Let the Darkness In
Fifteen

“I’ll wait outside,” I snapped, turning on my heels and trying to remember my way back. My sense of direction, which had always led me home wherever I was in the forest, served me well once more and I burst out of the great hall into the winter air.

Clouds had come skulking in during the time I was trapped outside and small pellets of rain came tumbling down. A bitter wind came and went intermittently. The door’s arch, grand as it was, was too narrow to provide much protection but the building opposite might.

I jogged across the bailey, pushing open the door. The smell hit me first - bird poo. I gagged but at least it was warmer and dryer than the misery outside. Dozens of pairs of beady eyes turned to look at me. Through the dusty shaft of sunlight that filtered through, I saw the rows of magnificent birds sat on racks. There was a falcon, with its dark cap and its speckled legs. There was a kestrel with tan plumage and dark markings. These were birds I had seen flying through the skies and a stab of resentment filled me. As I weighed up the possibility of freeing these birds, I heard a dog bark and the thunder of hooves. From the bailey, a flurry of activity arose. Opening the door ajar, I peeked out, pulling my hood up.

The gates to the castle were being pulled open which was achieved just in the nick of time. A surge of horsemen swamped the space. Flags fluttered from pendants, gold with a red eagle emblazoned on them. The vibrant reds, purples, greens and yellows of the mounted riders lit up the grey surroundings. The horses parted and then I saw him.

I couldn’t be mistaken who this person was. He was young, he was full of life and he had a confidence that nothing would knock. His hair was thick and a rich brown, his face was covered with a full beard. He had powerful shoulders and arms that could swing a weapon with ease and from what glimpses I had, he was lean, with none of the fat the nobility liked to accrue. I felt my heart flutter and my knees felt soft. What was this?

Then I heard a coquettish laugh. A woman edged her horse just in front of the prince. She had been lagging a little behind the rest which is why I had missed her. Giggling, she flicked her long blonde hair behind her and turned her face to the prince. She was the colour of milk, like someone had drained all the pigment away from her. I felt anger prickle my arms.

The prince slid down from his horse and I saw the strong legs move. In a swift movement, he had come to stand by the side of the woman’s horse and offer her a hand. Simpering, she gripped it hard and I winced. Together, they came to earth and the woman stumbled. Any idiot could have seen that she had fallen over nothing.

“Did the lady Isobel enjoy her ride?” he asked, guiding her away from the mass of shouting, churning bodied and edging nearer me. I slipped into the shadows, closing the door until there was only a sliver of light coming through. My breathing was ragged and some of the birds were flapping at my disturbance. Praying they would not all start squawking, I took some breaths through my nose.

“I enjoyed the ride,” the woman squeaked. Her voice was like an irritating mouse being chased by a cat. “But I would like to have spent more time with my betrothed.”

So that was who this woman was. I silently moved to the crack, pressing my face against it. Closer up, I could see she wasn’t far off my age. In fact, now I could see her slightly rounded cheeks and snub nose, I guessed her to be a few years younger.

A slow smile curved across my face. She may have been more beautiful than a plain forest girl, but what she had in looks, I could make up for with wisdom and guile. She would soon get on the prince’s nerves. He knew it. As the girl babbled on, his eyebrows went up and down in response and the occasional “mmm” interjected the one-sided conversation.

It was a farce. The prince knew all eyes were on him. No doubt this had been arranged when both prince and lady were children running around with toys. Isobel probably owned swathes of land and came from a rich family keen to get even richer. And he had no choice but to continue with the marriage.

I waited, listening to the girl squeal on and on. Ainesilver would be finished soon. I could either walk past and risk detection or just wait it out. Taking a deep breath, I made my choice. Pulling my hood up, I pulled the door aside and subjected myself to discovery. I was aware of the conversation ceasing as I went by. Turning my head slowly, I slid my eyes to match those of the prince. Our eyes connected and lowered my head demurely. But instead of stopping and dipping into a deep curtsy as expected, I carried straight on.

For a few moments, I walked blind. I hadn’t thought this far ahead. I couldn’t stop anywhere....my whole idea was to leave him with a lasting impression. If I waited outside, or stopped anywhere, I ran the risk of him coming over. Of course I wanted him to take note but not right now. Let him be left with the shadowy, enigmatic girl.

I could feel Isobel’s eyes smoldering into my back. She was a fool if she thought she could intimidate me. As I neared the doors to the main hall, I realised I would have to get past the hundreds of guards. Without Ainesilver’s familiar face, I may not be recognised and kicked back out into the jaws of the prince.

My hand reached to pull back the hood as the doors swung open. A bent figure came waddling out. I realised I had been standing taught as a bow string. As Ainesilver swept past, I turned on my heel and followed suit. We strode past two watching figures, my companion nodding her head, me just carrying on.

When we had finally cleared the castle, I staggered, everything catching up with me in an overwhelming rush. I felt the ground rush up towards me. When reality swam back into focus, I found myself kneeling on the floor. A wizened face was close to mine, the mouth opening and closing. The sound was muffled and blurred beneath the squealing in my ears. Closing my eyes, I took a few measured breaths.

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The voice was crystal clear now. I blinked stupidly, the world moving from smudges to sharpness.

When the words find their way out of me, they were thick and heavy but at least I was responding.

“You need some ale,” the words were an order and not an option. Strong hands hauled me to my feet and an arm slipped around my middle. As my legs still felt like fragile blades of grass, I was grateful for the solid body to lean on.

We meandered our way back into the town. It was a trip that had only taken a matter of minutes before, but now felt like an eternity. My strength was slowly coming back but I just wanted to sit down again.

Ainesilver guided us into a drinking house. It was dark and smoky inside, but the roaring fire kept it toasty. I smelt the familiar tang of spilt alcohol and the pungence of unwashed people. There was a loud buzz in the room, conversations flowed and laughter filled the space. Even though I was surrounded by people and walls, a concept I was still unaccustomed to, compared to the prison of the castle, I was back on home turf.

A mug was slammed down on the table before me. Curling my hands around it, I took a sip. The liquid was sour and thin but it sent warmth back into my icy veins. I felt the blood begin to pump again. A steaming hot bowl was also put before me. Ignoring the fatty globules of meat floating around, I shovelled it down.

Finally, I began to find myself again.

“So what was that about?”

Ainesilver was munching on an apple, staring at me. My mind raced for answers.

“It was too overwhelming. I’m still weak from fever.”

“Perhaps you had better not come with me for the next few days. Go back and rest.” I tried to fight. The last thing I wanted was for Ainesilver to visit the castle without me. I needed to explore it, to figure out the entrances and exits, and how to get past the guards.

As I opened my mouth to protest, my conscience told me I was doing myself no favours. The more fuss I made, the more danger I put myself in. Besides, my body seemed to be behaving badly all by itself. A day of rest would do no harm.

I finished my meal and Ainesilver guided me home. I was feeling much stronger but the apothecary was sticking by her duty. She was doing her job and doing it, much to my disgruntlement, doing it well. I laid down on my palette and Ainesilver bent to tuck me in. A surge of nostalgia shot through me and I saw Ysymay bending over me and kissing me goodnight. I felt a pang. I wondered what she was doing now. It struck me that all the women I had ever known had been healers and hiding something. My own mother had taken one look at me and had forgotten all about me.

I was going to protect my own kind. Not the humans. Not my blood.

My eyes closed as more thoughts raced through my mind, but I was unaware of when I crossed the boundaries into sleep. I woke to the stealthy chill creeping under the blankets. Pulling my blanket closer, I curled into a ball.

I drifted in and out of sleep, dimly aware of Ainesilver leaving for the day.

Midday had arrived by the time I was ready to leave the warmth of my cocoon. Stretching my limbs, I felt the surge of movement under my skin. I stood up, wiggling feeling back into my fingers and toes. A jug of wine and some bread and cheese sat on the table. A smile invaded my face and I sat down, my stomach suddenly loud in its demand for food.

I rinsed my face with the water, the iciness splashing away any sleep remaining. Then I surveyed the room. Since the day I had arrived, I had lost count of how many nights I had slept here. But this place was my home. The bottles and lotions had become my companions those days when Ainesilver was away.

Once again, I began to go through them. The thing with Ainesilver was that she never put anything back in the same place. Ugly gaps pockmarked the shelves, but it also meant each time I looked, there was something new on display. As my eyes guzzled it all in, a padded, crinkled bottle met my eye. Reaching forward, only my fingertips brushed it. Standing on tiptoes, I leaned in with my shoulder, grunting in effort. My fingers closed around it and dragged it down.

It was a piece of parchment interrupted by ink. Pulling off the frayed string that tied it to the bottle, I unfurled its cover. I felt a tingle of excitement as I stared down.

It was a map.

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