The Shadow's Heart Page 3

  Saeddryn shuddered. ‘Oh, shadows … I remember … so confused … didn’t know where I was, who was there … just seein’ things that had already happened, didn’t know if they were today or yesterday …’

  ‘But you’re all better now,’ said Heath, trying to sound jovial. ‘Can I have my knife back, please?’

  Saeddryn’s eye narrowed. ‘Who are ye? Where did ye come from?’

  Heath glanced at the other two. ‘Me, I came from Skenfrith. From … well, maybe you should see for yourself.’ He reached into his tunic, and offered her a piece of paper with a wax seal on it.

  She took it and scanned its contents. Then she smiled, and handed it back. ‘I see. He did well, to send ye. Here.’ She gave back his knife. ‘I’m sorry I hurt ye. I didn’t know if ye were a friend, or … what ye were.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Heath. ‘Honestly, a scar from the Shadow That Walks should be an honour for anyone.’

  ‘Aye, an’ I’ll honour the half-breed with a few more before I’m done,’ Saeddryn growled.

  ‘Of course.’

  Heath took a few deep breaths. He’d succeeded. Now he’d just have to hope the scar he was probably going to have would make him look heroic, rather than just ugly.

  ‘Now …’ Saeddryn dusted herself down and looked at her two followers. ‘Thanks to both of ye. Ye’ve done yer duty as true Northerners, an’ I promise ye both that when this is all over ye may tell Caedmon who ye are an’ have any reward ye care to name. As for me, when I next see the Night God I’ll tell her both yer names an’ praise ye to her.’

  ‘Er, I don’t suppose you could maybe mention me?’ Heath said from the background.

  ‘It’s still night outside, an’ I should go now,’ said Saeddryn, ignoring him. ‘The longer I stay here, the more danger I bring ye. I’ll take Heath with me, an’ thank ye both.’

  ‘And thank you from me too,’ said Heath. ‘I couldn’t have done it without you.’

  He nodded politely to them, and followed Saeddryn out of the cellar. To his alarm, she climbed straight up through the trapdoor without checking if the coast was clear, and walked off without waiting for him.

  He hurried after her. ‘Wait!’

  Saeddryn stopped near the alley entrance, and peered out into the street beyond before turning to him. ‘We’re leavin’ the city tonight,’ she said.

  ‘Are we going to meet up with you-know-who?’ asked Heath.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Understood,’ said Heath. ‘Now, as for getting out of the city, I have a few suggestions. Just between you and me, I have some experience — ’

  Saeddryn took him by the arm. ‘Shut up. Yer comin’ with me, an’ yer gonna do it without talkin’ or I’m leavin’ ye here.’

  ‘Fine, fine. Just as you say, my Lady. Can I just ask how we’re going to do this?’

  ‘Hold on to me,’ said Saeddryn. ‘Don’t let go, no matter what happens. Got that?’

  Heath gripped her arm. ‘I think so, but — argh!’

  Saeddryn leapt forward, dragging him with her, out of the alley and into a black void.

  Dark winds blew over the winter landscape of the North. They carried snow with them, and dead leaves, and bad news. But no news could be worse, or darker, or cause more death than the griffin that flew high above.

  Few griffins could or would fly at night, but this one had no fear. He made a massive shadow against the stars: a moving blackness that would terrify anyone who saw it, man or griffin.

  No griffin was mightier than the Mighty Skandar, and everyone knew it. He was the master of this territory and always would be, unless another griffin won it from him. But that would never happen.

  He had been away for a while, waiting for his human to get better. Arenadd always got better, no matter what. This time it seemed to be taking longer than usual, but that didn’t matter. He had been content to stay where he was, at least until the mysterious white griffin came to him again in his sleep. Last time he had seen her, he had done as she said he should and it had made him master of the North. So this time he had been quick to listen to her again. He had flown away to Warwick, and used his power to bring Saeddryn back to life, just as he had once done for Arenadd.

  But when he realised that the white griffin meant for him to make Saeddryn his human now, instead of Arenadd, Skandar had rebelled. Saeddryn belonged to his son, Aenae, and besides, Skandar did not like her. She had argued with Arenadd, made him angry, tried to stop him doing what he wanted. It had not been her place to do that, when he was dominant over her. Fighting with Arenadd had meant that she wanted to challenge him for his position as dominant human, and Skandar would not have allowed that. Aenae had wanted to challenge as well, had wanted to fight his own father and take his place. But Skandar had defeated him easily.

  No, Skandar wanted nothing to do with him, or with Saeddryn. He wanted Arenadd with him, but if Arenadd was too ill then Skandar would go without him until he was better. He had had enough of waiting. He was going back to Malvern now, back home to resume his place as supreme griffin, and surely nobody would stop him. He even relished the possibility that someone might try. Killing them would be the fastest way to display his might to anyone who had lost respect for him while he was away.

  Malvern was close now. He recognised its shape just ahead, and flew eagerly toward it.

  Before long the outer walls passed beneath him, and he made for the tallest tower of the Eyrie. At the very top, an opening beckoned to him — an archway much bigger than any of the others that dotted the sides of the tower. Faint light showed through it, and helped him come in to land on the floor of his old nest.

  He was pleased to find it unoccupied, and with only the faintest, oldest scent of another griffin. The straw hadn’t been changed in some time, and the water trough had gone dry. Good — that meant nobody else had been using it.

  Skandar took a moment to groom himself, then sauntered through the curtain and into Arenadd’s bedroom.

  There was someone in it. A human, sitting by the fire. For an instant the black, curly fur on its head made Skandar tense, but then the smell hit his nostrils and he huffed sharply and shook his head. Not Arenadd.

  The human reacted with fear when it saw him, but it did not back away very far. ‘Skandar!’ it said. ‘It’s you!’

  Skandar took an aggressive step toward it, but then he finally recognised the scent and stopped. He knew this human; it was Arenadd’s friend, and had always done what he told it to. Therefore, it was not a threat or a challenger, but a useful inferior. It had even helped Skandar once, by finding Arenadd when he was lost.

  Skandar gave a friendly flick of his tail. ‘You, human,’ he said. ‘You wait for me here?’

  ‘I didn’t think you was gonna come back,’ said the human, in fractured and clumsy griffish not that different from his own.

  ‘Have,’ said Skandar. ‘I come home to be Mighty Skandar again.’

  ‘That’s good,’ said the human — Laela, that was her name. ‘Where’ve yeh been?’

  ‘Have been with human,’ said Skandar. ‘But now come back. Human come back later.’

  ‘Skandar, Arenadd’s not comin’ back,’ said Laela. ‘He’s dead.’

  Skandar snorted; humans were all so stupid. ‘Human come back,’ he said. ‘Come back soon. Human is magic. Human never die.’

  ‘But he’s dead now, Skandar.’

  Skandar decided to ignore that. It didn’t matter if she understood or not. ‘Am home now,’ he said. ‘And will not leave again.’ Then, remembering: ‘Where you griffin? Where Oeka?’

  ‘She’s … gone,’ said Laela.

  Skandar chirped. ‘Oeka leave you?’ he opened his beak wide with amusement. ‘You weak human, if she leave! What you do? You make Oeka angry?’

  ‘No,’ said Laela.

  Skandar wasn’t listening. He watched the human, enjoying the sheer pathetic idea of this. It was rare for a griffin to actually abandon their human; the death of ei
ther human or griffin was one thing, but for a griffin to actually leave … well, that only happened if the human had done something truly stupid or weak. He wondered what this one had done to make the little runt Oeka fly away.

  ‘Listen, Skandar,’ said Laela. ‘I got an idea.’

  Skandar cocked his head. ‘What idea?’

  ‘You ain’t got a partner now,’ said Laela. ‘Neither do I. You wanna rule Malvern again. I’m tryin’ to keep on ruling. So why don’t we work together? Yeh know, help each other?’

  Skandar just stared at her.

  ‘Make me yer human,’ said Laela.

  Skandar hissed. ‘Have human already! Not need you!’

  ‘Then let me help yeh!’ said Laela. ‘I helped you an’ Arenadd before, didn’t I? Let me do it again. I can go with you an’ help yeh the way Arenadd would while he’s gone.’

  Skandar huffed softly; this idea sounded interesting.

  ‘There’s somethin’ I should tell yeh,’ said Laela. ‘The Unpartnered — remember them? Well, they’ve left. They went to Warwick an’ then Fruitsheart, t’fight my — Arenadd’s enemies, an’ now they won’t come back. They won’t fight any more.’

  Skandar hissed. ‘Why not fight?’

  ‘They won’t fight without a griffin t’lead them,’ said Laela. ‘You, Skandar. Only you can lead them.’

  Skandar hissed again, louder. ‘They not leave! Not sit and groom when there are enemies!’

  ‘They need you to go to them,’ said Laela. ‘But they won’t listen if yeh don’t have a human. Take me with yeh.’

  ‘I go,’ Skandar growled. ‘I make them follow, and we fight again! You — you human come too, you come to help.’

  ‘I will,’ said Laela.

  ‘Good! You good human, to help. We fight enemy together!’ Skandar paused. ‘What enemy?’

  ‘Saeddryn,’ said Laela.

  Skandar cocked his head. ‘Why fight Aenae’s human?’

  ‘She wants to take over,’ said Laela. ‘She wants all yer power, Skandar. To rule Malvern like Arenadd di — does.’

  Skandar screamed his rage. ‘Human not rule! Aenae not rule! I rule! Arenadd rule!’

  ‘That’s right!’ Laela shouted over his din. ‘Saeddryn doesn’t rule the North; you do! An’ her son, Caedmon, an’ his partner Shar — they’re helpin’ her.’

  ‘I kill,’ said Skandar. ‘I bring Unpartnered, and I kill. Kill anyone who challenge. Kill you.’ He thrust his massive black beak toward her, glaring straight into her tiny white face. ‘Kill you if you challenge. Human hear this?’

  ‘Yes. I won’t challenge, Skandar. Promise. Oeka won’t either.’

  ‘If she challenge, she die too,’ Skandar warned.

  ‘She won’t.’

  ‘Is good, then,’ said Skandar, pulling away from her. ‘I go sleep now. Human bring food, water.’

  ‘I will,’ said Laela.

  Skandar retreated into his nest.

  Once the curtain had fallen back into place behind him, Laela punched the air and did a little jig. ‘Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! Hahahahah!’

  She flopped down onto the bed and tried not to laugh like a lunatic.

  Her journal was under the pillow. On impulse, she pulled it out and went to her desk. There she sat down and scratched out another entry. It was very short.

  Skander is back an were gonna wipe those basterds off the map. Caedmon is finnished.

  THREE

  SCARS ARE HEROIC

  Heath’s journey back to Skenfrith with Saeddryn was shorter than the one that had taken him to Malvern. Much shorter. But then, he was travelling Saeddryn’s way this time around.

  He didn’t enjoy it much. Again and again Saeddryn would drag him into the shadows, and there would be nothing but a horrible stumbling rush through a darkness that seemed to suck all the warmth out of his body. In between times they would stop and rest in the light, but Saeddryn seemed desperate to get back to Skenfrith as fast as possible, and she gave Heath almost no time to eat, or even sleep. She herself didn’t seem to need food or rest at all. Heath was too intimidated by her to complain, and did his best to put a brave face on it. After the first day or so he stopped wanting to eat anyway, but he wanted to sleep more and more. Only sheer terror of the darkness stopped him from dozing off while Saeddryn pulled him through it, and the rest of the time she constantly woke him up before he had had the amount of sleep he needed.

  Also, his face hurt. Before long it began to itch as well, and the ache behind the itch got so bad that it kept him awake even when he got the chance to sleep.

  And all the while there was the darkness.

  Heath soon grew to hate it. He felt weak and sick every time he came out of it — unlike Saeddryn, who looked stronger and healthier with every trip. She was massively strong while they were in the darkness too; there was no chance of her ever losing her grip on him, thank the gods. When Heath slept, he had recurring nightmares where she let go of him, and left him to wander alone in the darkness until it sucked the life out of him forever.

  By the time Saeddryn told him they were close to Skenfrith’s walls, he barely cared any more.

  ‘Can we just walk the rest of the way?’ he mumbled. He hadn’t used his trademark smile in some time.

  ‘All right,’ said Saeddryn. ‘It’s not far.’

  ‘Thank goodnesh,’ said Heath. His mouth felt clumsy.

  ‘Here.’ Saeddryn offered him her arm. ‘Ye’ve done well all this way, an’ when we get there ye’ll have a nice rest. I’m sure they can heal ye, too. Ye don’t look so good.’

  ‘Don’t feel so good,’ said Heath. His mind felt all tangled up.

  He stumbled the rest of the way along the road, letting Saeddryn guide him until she made him stop. As if in a dream, he heard her talking to someone, and caught a glimpse of the gates of Skenfrith. After that he walked some more, along what he thought were streets, until there was a door and some stairs, and there was Caedmon and his friend Myfina.

  Saeddryn let go of Heath and embraced her son.

  Heath turned and saw Myfina looking at him with shock. ‘Heath? My gods, what happened to you? Heath?’ Her voice sounded distorted.

  Heath tried to grin, and groaned when pain lanced through his face. ‘I’m fine,’ he said. His voice sounded distorted too.

  Another voice. ‘Heath? Dear gods.’

  Caedmon. Heath took a step toward him. ‘Back and all … all finished … sir,’ he said. The words felt thick and clumsy in his mouth. ‘Found your mother, she’s fine, but I think I need …’

  Caedmon’s hands grasped his shoulders. ‘Heath? Heath, are you all right?’

  ‘Need to sit down,’ Heath managed.

  ‘All right. It’s all right. Come this way.’

  Heath saw the chair, and managed to grab the back of it. ‘Thanks.’

  Caedmon let go of him. ‘You just sit down and rest, Heath. You’ve done brilliantly.’

  Heath sat, but the chair seemed to be moving underneath him. ‘Caedmon,’ he said, trying to catch him by the arm and missing. ‘The darkness … you’ve got to … darkness takes the … takes the life …’ His voice faded away in his ears. ‘Takes the life away,’ it said, so faintly he could barely hear it, even though it was his own. ‘Stay away from … dark …’

  Myfina cried out in horror as Heath fell off the chair and crumpled onto the floor. ‘Oh no!’

  She and Caedmon ran to his side and tried to wake him up, but he didn’t answer. He was unconscious and his skin was burning hot. On his face the wound stood out horribly, red with swelling that had spread outward and pushed one eye shut.

  Saeddryn knelt by his head and put her cold hands on his forehead. ‘Oh no …’

  ‘That wound’s infected,’ said Caedmon. ‘It’s made him sick; he’s burning up with fever.’

  Saeddryn looked up, and she sounded as cool and detached as she looked. ‘This man saved my life. He saved all our lives. Brought me back from madness. An’ this is how I r
epaid him.’

  ‘We have to get him to a healer, now,’ said Caedmon, running for the door.

  Myfina stayed by Heath’s side as he was lifted onto a stretcher, and followed him to the infirmary. Caedmon went too, but stayed outside when Heath went in, catching Myfina by the elbow to prevent her from following.

  ‘Stop,’ he said. ‘You’ll only get in their way.’

  Myfina stood beside him, shaking her head gently. ‘No,’ she murmured. ‘Please, Night God, don’t take him.’

  Caedmon, watching her, felt a cold stab in his heart. But all he said was, ‘I’m sure they can help him.’

  ‘They will,’ Myfina said fiercely. ‘He can’t die. He’s Heath.’

  ‘Yes.’ Caedmon smiled. ‘Heath of no fixed name and no fixed abode. One day I’m going to make him tell me his real name.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Myfina. ‘But he’ll always be Heath to me.’

  ‘There’s nothin’ ye can do for him now,’ said Saeddryn, from behind them. ‘An’ we have things to talk about.’

  Caedmon turned to her. ‘You’re right. Let’s go to the Council Chamber, and you can tell us both what happened.’

  The three of them hurried off there, and shut themselves in before Saeddryn told them her story.

  ‘Got into Malvern, an’ did some talking. Gathered followers, instructed ’em on what to do when we came back there. They told me some nasty things about what’s been goin’ on in the Eyrie. Said the half-breed’s partner, Oeka, had been doin’ something in there. Working some sort of magic that killed anyone who got too close. They also told me about what happened to yer father, Caedmon. An’ I wouldn’t tell ye, but it’s important that ye know.’

  Caedmon’s mouth tightened. ‘What is it?’

  ‘The half-breed had set things up t’kill him the usual way, but that didn’t happen. When they brought him out, Oeka did somethin’. Spoke into people’s minds. Everybody there heard her, in their heads.’

  ‘She can do that?’ Myfina interrupted.

  ‘Aye,’ said Saeddryn. ‘It’s a rare power, but she’s got it. Power over the mind. An’ the power does worse than just talk. She used it. On yer father, Caedmon. Did it t’show everyone what she could do.’