She found a half-smile for me and did as I said. I watched as she swung herself into the saddle, still graceful despite the lack of sleep. I could feel the nerves coming off her and I wanted to say more but we were running out of time.
We made good progress, rounding the eastern point of the Chalk sometime after midnight. From there Belis took the lead, winding her way easily through the gnarled trunks of oaks and elms even in the inky black of the night. When dawn broke I recognised the shape of the land again and a moment later we were there at the edge of the clearing.
Belis jumped down from the saddle, pausing to tie her horse’s reins to a tree at the edge of the glade. I followed, then stepped out into the space. Boudica’s body had been worried by scavengers. Belis bowed to her mother’s corpse, tears glittering on her cheeks. Then she turned to her sister.
Catrisca lay where we had left her, pale and still, long, straight red hair splayed across the grass like blood. Fallen leaves had drifted around her like petals so that she seemed to be the heart of a great flower. At her feet slept a mighty hound, white fur with red ears.
“Dormath,” I whispered. He drowsed a little then opened one golden eye. I held out my arms to him and in a moment hewas up and running towards me. He was stronger than me now and I toppled backwards, laughing as he covered my face with slobbery kisses, sniffling at the strange smells I carried from the road.
“Dormath, Dormath, shush,” I spluttered, trying to hush his yelps and yips of delight. “I missed you too, boy. You’ve survived all right without me?”
I sat up and felt his sides. He didn’t seem to have lost any weight and the clearing was scattered with rabbit bones. I climbed to my feet and he nipped at my hand to protest that I had stopped petting him.
“Ouch! Oh, give your poor mistress a minute.”
He snorted in disgust and went to go and pester Belis. She was standing at Cati’s side, still as her sister. Her left hand rested on the whelk shell at her neck, fingers twined in the red thread.
“Belis,” I called, keeping my voice low. “Are you all right?”
She blinked suddenly and looked over at me, her fingers still twisting at the pendant. Then she shook herself and hurried forward. She crouched next to me and I reached out to take her hand. I could feel the hummingbird thrum of her pulse in her wrist.
“I know you’re scared,” I said, “but we have to hurry. The Romans are still hunting us. We need to move as quickly as we can.”
She nodded and her fingers interlaced with mine.
“Can you help me? I’m shaking so much, I’m worried I’ll drop the shell.”
I picked up the whelk, lifting it from the soft skin of Belis’s neck, and ran my fingers up the thin linen cord, looping it back over her head. Her long braid had become tangled with the necklace, so I held the shell in my hands while she reached back to unravel the knot. It was incongruously light for something that held the weight of a human soul, the weight of everything we’d fought and bled for over months. Dormath snapped at it hopefully and I pushed him away.
Belis finally unwound the cord from her hair and I handedher back the shell. She balanced it between two fingers, one on the siphon, one on the spire, holding it up to the light. When she spoke her voice was stronger. She was back in control.
“Thank you, Mallt. I think I’m ready now. Can you open her mouth? I need to breathe the soul back in.”
I moved around to Catrisca’s head, placing one hand on her forehead and one under her chin, tilting it back so that her lips opened. Her skin was stone-cold, but there were no signs of decay and her muscles moved easily beneath my fingers.
Belis crawled up beside me and stroked her sister’s cheek.
“I’m so sorry, Cati,” she whispered, “I’m here to make this right.” A few tears slid down her cheek and I reached out to stroke the back of her hand.
“Whatever happens,” I said, my voice thick with emotion, “I love you.”
She gulped down her tears and angled the mouth of the shell against Cati’s lips. She darted a look up at me and I nodded. Belis bent and blew gently into the spire of the whelk shell. My old eyes would have been able to see the strange corona of the soul, to trace it as it wound its way through the shell’s maze-like interior into Cati’s mouth, then sank into her chest. My human eyes couldn’t sense this, could only see the final result when Cati’s chest rose, like the first intake of breath when a swimmer breaks the surface.
Belis sat back, moving next to me. I took her hand and we waited together. The clearing was very quiet; even the birds had stopped singing. Belis was holding my hand tight, as a promise.
For a moment there was nothing but stillness in the glade. Then there was a choking sound and the last of the Iceni was the last no more. Cati retched, the force of the movement charging through her and wrenching her upright. Belis let go of my hand and flew across to her sister, enfolding her in her arms.
I hurried over to them. Catrisca was still coughing but the colour was rushing back into her cheeks. Tears were streaming down Belis’s face.
“Cati, Cati, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I will never be ableto forgive myself.”
Cati gasped, struggling for breath. I passed Belis a waterskin and she trickled a little water into her sister’s mouth. The girl drank greedily, swilling out dust and the taste of death. When she had had enough she raised a shaky hand, looking up at Belis and me. I saw she had the same grey-green eyes as her sister though they were bloodshot and ringed with purple shadows.
“I dreamed I was dead, Belis,” she croaked, “I dreamed I was alone, cut off from this world and the next, floating in the nothingness of the void. I called out for you, for mother and father, but you weren’t there.”
Belis cupped her sister’s face. “You’re never going to be alone again. I’m here, we’re together now.” She fished the shell pendant from her pocket, looping it around Cati’s neck.
I stepped back, letting them have a moment to reunite. Dormath growled and I glanced down at him. He was staring into the forest, hackles raised.
