Dormath wriggled out of my grip and streaked away from me, rejoining his brothers as they ran endless circuits. A chicken leg dangled from his jaws. I considered going and catching him. I was the faster even if he was more agile, but there was still so much to do. I gave him the eye and turned back to my labour.
I soon gave up on my hopes of joining the Wild Hunt’s celebrations as it was becoming clear that I would be working all night, would struggle even to finish before the sun came up. I was as at ease in daylight as in the dark, but soon the humans would start to trickle back to the battlefield, looking to loot the bodies or search for loved ones. I disliked live humans; I had no business with them before they died, and the dogs were prone to chasing them.
The eastern sky was beginning to blush with the light of a red dawn by the time I had finished combing the battlefield. Crows and ravens were clustering in the trees to the west of me, waiting for the dogs and me to leave. They would have afeast ahead of them, I thought, there would be enough meat to stuff every bird south of the Pennines. The thought didn’t bother me, death would always lead to life. I straightened up from the last body, a pale-haired Iceni woman who had been split almost in half.
I sent her soul into the air and called the dogs to heel. They rushed at me, panting and wagging their tails. I bent down and patted them, enjoying how the doggish smell blocked out the stink of blood.
“Come on then, are we done? Ready to go again?” In my mind I was already planning out the next journey, intending to head north. Boudica’s rebellion had occupied so much of my time of late that I had been forced to neglect the northern and western lands and there were bound to be souls there who needed my help. I would run through the woods taking a more circuitous path than I would at night, in order to avoid settlements. I flexed my toes and bobbed up and down again. The sun was threatening to rise at any moment, so I put the battlefield to my back and set off.
I had barely reached the edge of the trees when I felt something. A soul in pain, near death but too tangled up in itself to die. I slowed and looked back at the dogs.
“One more, then.”
I followed the sense of anguish into the woods. The morning light was quickly blocked out by the leaves, and I found myself darting between the trees in almost total darkness. There was something else alongside the pain I was sensing, a kind of pressure, causing my ears to pop repeatedly as I approached. Dormath growled a little and I almost tripped over as he dashed in front of me, a pale blur in the gloom.
I moved closer and identified the cause of the pressure. It was magic. A strange kind of magic but magic nevertheless. I was used to my own power, and I knew well the enchantments and tricks of the fae, both high and low. This was different, imprecise and weak, though its meagre strength was building. It reminded me of the earth spells the druids had woven, using blood andtree sap to paint ancient symbols through which to channel their incantations. Ah! I knew it now. Witchcraft. I rarely saw witches or wizards; they almost never needed my assistance in finding the final path. I had heard of them, though, and I was surprised to find one whose power hadn’t been diminished by whatever was killing her.
It was nothing to worry me, though, so I kept going, crunching twigs and leaves under my feet. The magic was growing as I neared, building in my ears and in my nose. Dormath sneezed and growled again.
A small glade appeared in front of me, well grassed and open to the dawn sky above. The light was a pinkish gold, bathing the slender elm trees and making the beads of dew sparkle like quartz in granite. I searched for the dying witch. A tall woman sprawled at the base of one of the trees, her long red hair splayed out around her. I moved out into the open and sniffed but her soul had long since gone. There was a sharp intake of breath from the side of me and I turned.
There were two more women in the shadows, one stretched on the ground beneath a spreading oak, her hand pressed to a bloody wound in the front of her dress, the other, barely more than a girl, crouched by her head. I moved a little closer, tasting the agony and confusion of death on the air. I had not bothered to glamour myself or the dogs and I heard the dying woman’s breath catch in her throat. I waved to the dogs to stay back and knelt in front of her, reaching out a hand to touch her face. I noticed she was muttering something, her lips moving in a blur even as she stared at me.
I smiled at her, thinking she was probably praying. A calming habit for humans, though it didn’t make much difference to me. The other girl leaned forward just as I laid my hand on the dying woman’s forehead. I saw her open her mouth to protest, even as my palm brushed the skin.
There was a huge crash as the magic I had sensed exploded, ballooning out to encompass the three of us. I reached for the woman’s soul, but it pulled back at me, draining power throughthe channel I had opened. I wrenched my hand back and there was a great cracking sound. I smelled burned metal and salt as I was flung backwards, my body arcing through the air until I hit something solid, and then there was nothing but blackness.
Chapter 2
Ahuman was groaning in pain somewhere close to me. They were making a terrible fuss; the sound was like an injured cow. I wished they would stop. There was some kind of problem with my head, and I needed to focus on it. I opened my mouth to tell them to be quiet when I realised the moaning was coming from me. This feeling in my head was… pain? It was different from the sympathetic agony I was used to sensing from the dying, sharper and more debilitating. I could barely focus my thoughts. They seemed blurred and slow.
I reached up a hand and felt a new bump on the back of my head. It was sore, sending fresh waves of discomfort through me when I poked at it. I prodded it again, just to confirm I wasn’t imagining it. I groaned again, without meaning to. No, it was definitely real. How strange, I had never injured myself before.
I cracked open my eyes and looked up. The sky was a very bright, very pale blue overhead, painted with long streaks of white clouds. Mid-morning at the very earliest. I must have been unconscious for a while. I tried to sit up, but my legs weren’t working the way they ought to and as I raised my head the throbbing got worse.
“Oh,” came a voice from my left and a figure appeared above me. It was definitely human and seemed strangely familiar.Coppery hair framed a face covered in a truly astonishing number of freckles that made the grey-green eyes now looking down at me seem even brighter by comparison. I frowned and the face tilted to one side.
“You’re awake, then? I thought you might be about to die.” The woman didn’t seem particularly bothered by the idea. “Here.” She shoved out a hand. I inspected it, noticing the skin on the back of her arms was just as freckled as her face, then knocked it aside and sat up, making a great effort to ignore the pain in my head. My vision blurred and I swayed, suddenly unable to make the world stay still around me. I pushed through the vertigo and forced my vision to sharpen.
I inspected my surroundings. I was in a small forest clearing, the ground covered in grass and studded with daisies. I couldn’t see my dogs anywhere, though that wasn’t unusual; they were prone to wandering. As I looked around, I spotted another woman, lying dead between meandering tree roots.
My memories slotted into place: the trapped soul, the two other women, the magic. I snapped back to the freckled woman, still kneeling beside me. I struggled to my feet, clutching onto the tree trunk to stay steady, and looked for the third human, the dying one. She was lying near where I had seen her last night, still and pale. The freckled woman grabbed for my arm, but I threw her off and stomped over to the side of the glade, eager to do my duty and then leave.
Or I tried to. I managed the first stride, but with my second I felt my foot land on something incredibly sharp. I wobbled and fell, clutching my injured foot. I inspected the sole, finding a scrape in the soft flesh, and looked around for the cause. It must be an enchanted dagger, a knife of obsidian, something powerful that should not be left lying around. There was a rather angular stone beside me, but I had never been hurt by something so paltry before.
“What is this?” I said aloud, massaging my foot. The freckled woman looked over at me, her face blank with confusion.
“Well, if you will insist on walking about barefoot, whatdo you expect?” Her tone was unsympathetic and more than a little rude.
I glared at her; humans were usually more polite when they addressed me. I still didn’t understand what had happened to my sole. I always went barefoot.
A mystery for later. Now I wanted to leave. I hauled myself up again and set off for the dying woman, walking more tentatively this time. There was still something not quite right; my balance seemed off, and I was taking shorter steps than usual. It seemed to take an age to reach her side, and my muscles felt stiff and sore. I bent down next to the third woman, no more than a girl really, reaching out to touch her cheek.
It was warm and smooth, strange for someone on the brink of death. I listened but I couldn’t hear her heartbeat, nor sense the condition of her spirit. Her chest was still and she wasn’t breathing. I slid my hand under her chin, feeling for a pulse.
“Don’t touch her,” said the freckled one behind me. I ignored her again. There was no pulse that I could feel. I pressed my finger a little deeper, wanting to check I was not mistaken.
Something grabbed my arm and yanked me away.
