to get out of sight,’ she hissed, watching the wagon disappear into the mist. She looked up as rain pattered against the leaves. Cool water fell on her face and she licked
it from her lips. Its crisp taste sharpened her mind. ‘Come on, let’s get off the road,’ she said, putting her arm around David’s waist and helping him to his feet. They
peered over the bridge parapet at steep banks studded with shrubs and mossy rocks. From the bottom, lost in shadow, rose the sound of rushing water. ‘Ready?’
‘No.’ David heaved a rattling breath.
‘Me neither. Let’s go.’
She guided David off the bridge and over the edge of the bank.
How on earth did I end up in this situation?
she thought, stepping carefully on to what she hoped was a solid foothold.
‘Step where I step, and take care – it’s slippery and a long way down.’
‘Step where she steps, step where she steps, step where she steps . . .’ David murmured.
‘Oh dear,’ said a small voice. Bramley had somehow scrabbled his way back up to his favourite perch behind her left ear. ‘I think the poison is making him go
doolally.’
It was raining hard by the time they were halfway down the embankment, soaked to the skin and gasping. Streams of water foamed down the slope, loosening the soil and stones. Desperate to get as
far away from the road as possible, Hazel forced herself to descend slowly, helping David with every faltering step. Only the thought of him lying at the foot of the bank with a broken neck stopped
her from going faster.
After an eternity of slips and near falls, they splashed into a puddle at the foot of the bank. The stream was swollen with floodwater, rushing in a torrent around jagged rocks.
‘At least it drowns out our noise,’ Bramley said, shivering. ‘And perhaps covers our scent too.’
Movement on the bridge caught Hazel’s eye and she pulled David behind a boulder. She put a finger to her lips. He nodded. Two silent figures crossed the bridge, one black, and one white,
ghostlike in the miasmic rain. Hazel held her breath and only let it out after they had disappeared up the road.
‘It worked,’ she said. ‘They’re following the wagon.’
David staggered towards the riverbank. ‘I c-can’t leave him to face them alone,’ he muttered. ‘He’s an old man . . .’
‘Don’t be stupid,’ Hazel said, grabbing his arm. ‘He told me to get you to a safe place. Besides, you’re in no state to fight. You’d just be a
hindrance.’ She sighed when his face fell. ‘I’m sorry, but it’s true.’
‘All right,’ he said, his teeth chattering. ‘But first chance I get I’m going to k-kill that spider myself.’
Keeping to the shadows, Hazel and David followed the stream east, slipping on rocks and gasping as the freezing water gushed over their feet. Eventually they emerged from the
cutting. The banks levelled out and the stream widened, flowing over a bed of flat, smooth stones.
Hazel looked up through a gap in the trees. The morning sky was drab: grey, dark and oppressive.
‘I need to stop,’ David croaked. ‘Can we rest for a minute?’
‘All right.’ Hazel glanced at his haggard face. ‘But not for too long.’ She led him under the fronds of a willow tree and settled him down by its trunk. He sat for a
moment with his head between his legs and then threw up on his boots.
‘Oh, lovely,’ Bramley said.
Hazel dipped the edge of her cloak in the river and wiped David’s mouth and chin.
He’s so pale
, she thought
. He looks dead already.
Guilt squirmed in her stomach.
‘Step where she steps, step where she steps . . .’ David mumbled.
Hazel sat next to him and snuggled deeper into her cloak. ‘David,’ she said – realizing the boy had fallen silent. ‘
David?
’
He stirred and opened his good eye. ‘Oh. So it wasn’t a bad dream.’
‘I’m afraid not,’ she said with a small smile.
‘Those people back there, they might still be after us. You . . . you should
it from her lips. Its crisp taste sharpened her mind. ‘Come on, let’s get off the road,’ she said, putting her arm around David’s waist and helping him to his feet. They
peered over the bridge parapet at steep banks studded with shrubs and mossy rocks. From the bottom, lost in shadow, rose the sound of rushing water. ‘Ready?’
‘No.’ David heaved a rattling breath.
‘Me neither. Let’s go.’
She guided David off the bridge and over the edge of the bank.
How on earth did I end up in this situation?
she thought, stepping carefully on to what she hoped was a solid foothold.
‘Step where I step, and take care – it’s slippery and a long way down.’
‘Step where she steps, step where she steps, step where she steps . . .’ David murmured.
‘Oh dear,’ said a small voice. Bramley had somehow scrabbled his way back up to his favourite perch behind her left ear. ‘I think the poison is making him go
doolally.’
It was raining hard by the time they were halfway down the embankment, soaked to the skin and gasping. Streams of water foamed down the slope, loosening the soil and stones. Desperate to get as
far away from the road as possible, Hazel forced herself to descend slowly, helping David with every faltering step. Only the thought of him lying at the foot of the bank with a broken neck stopped
her from going faster.
After an eternity of slips and near falls, they splashed into a puddle at the foot of the bank. The stream was swollen with floodwater, rushing in a torrent around jagged rocks.
‘At least it drowns out our noise,’ Bramley said, shivering. ‘And perhaps covers our scent too.’
Movement on the bridge caught Hazel’s eye and she pulled David behind a boulder. She put a finger to her lips. He nodded. Two silent figures crossed the bridge, one black, and one white,
ghostlike in the miasmic rain. Hazel held her breath and only let it out after they had disappeared up the road.
‘It worked,’ she said. ‘They’re following the wagon.’
David staggered towards the riverbank. ‘I c-can’t leave him to face them alone,’ he muttered. ‘He’s an old man . . .’
‘Don’t be stupid,’ Hazel said, grabbing his arm. ‘He told me to get you to a safe place. Besides, you’re in no state to fight. You’d just be a
hindrance.’ She sighed when his face fell. ‘I’m sorry, but it’s true.’
‘All right,’ he said, his teeth chattering. ‘But first chance I get I’m going to k-kill that spider myself.’
Keeping to the shadows, Hazel and David followed the stream east, slipping on rocks and gasping as the freezing water gushed over their feet. Eventually they emerged from the
cutting. The banks levelled out and the stream widened, flowing over a bed of flat, smooth stones.
Hazel looked up through a gap in the trees. The morning sky was drab: grey, dark and oppressive.
‘I need to stop,’ David croaked. ‘Can we rest for a minute?’
‘All right.’ Hazel glanced at his haggard face. ‘But not for too long.’ She led him under the fronds of a willow tree and settled him down by its trunk. He sat for a
moment with his head between his legs and then threw up on his boots.
‘Oh, lovely,’ Bramley said.
Hazel dipped the edge of her cloak in the river and wiped David’s mouth and chin.
He’s so pale
, she thought
. He looks dead already.
Guilt squirmed in her stomach.
‘Step where she steps, step where she steps . . .’ David mumbled.
Hazel sat next to him and snuggled deeper into her cloak. ‘David,’ she said – realizing the boy had fallen silent. ‘
David?
’
He stirred and opened his good eye. ‘Oh. So it wasn’t a bad dream.’
‘I’m afraid not,’ she said with a small smile.
‘Those people back there, they might still be after us. You . . . you should
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