taskmaster.
At a certain point she accepted the inevitable and the arguments ceased. She gave me curt instructions about what to pack and told me, without consultation, which path we’d be taking. She avoided talking to Regan.
He seemed much as usual. He sat down with Bearberry, Hawkbit, and me, and we went over what the Folk Belowhad shown us at midwinter. Tali and I both knew the way to Darkwater, a settlement on a western sea loch. But we would not pass through the place where my father had died. Instead, we would make for Pentishead, some miles to the south, and embark on the voyage Twayblade had demonstrated in the nest-boat: out between the inner islands, then to Ronan’s Isle, steering clear of the skerries.
“What about a boat?” I asked.
“Leave that to Tali,” said Regan. “Once you’re out of the mountains, you’ll travel as a pair of women seeking work. It’s the best choice for avoiding notice. Once you reach the coast, you’ll likely find someone to ferry you over for a few coppers. Flint has been expert thus far at keeping the king’s attention away from the outer isles, using the argument—true enough—that they’re hard to reach and not many folk live there. That can only be to your advantage.”
“There are sure to be Enforcers on the road now spring’s come, especially around Summerfort. The idea of traveling openly does scare me.”
“Between Tali’s good judgment and your instincts, I’m confident you’ll reach the isles safely.” A pause here, as he turned his searching blue eyes on me. “Believe me,” he said, “it never gets any easier to send the folk of Shadowfell out across Alban, not knowing how many will come back in one piece. We’ve lost a few over the years and never found out what befell them. But we have work to do, a message to spread abroad. With Tali to protect you, you’ve a better chance than many of making the journey without coming to harm.”
I said nothing, only nodded. A look passed between Bearberry and Hawkbit. It told me they, like me, were thinking this perceptive human leader had missed the important fact that the Good Folk had played a significant part in keeping me safe on my journey to Shadowfell, and perhaps in those difficult years before. Sage had been watching over me from a distance for some considerable time. Never mind that; Sage was gone. I did need a strong human companion, and there was no doubt Tali was strong, though whether she could be a good companion was yet to be seen.
The rebels left Shadowfell a few at a time, taking advantage of breaks in the weather, going their separate ways. The night before Regan and Fingal departed, I dreamed of Flint riding out from Winterfort with his Enforcer troop, though I could not tell where they were headed. When I woke, Tali was sitting on her bed, polishing an already gleaming knife by the dim light of the lantern that hung out in the hallway. I caught her eye, but the look on her face told me to hold my tongue. I lay awake for some time, as was usual when Flint had appeared in my dreams, and she said not a word. Later, when I had dozed fitfully and woken again, she was folding garments into a pile with meticulous precision—she, who tended to throw clothing in a heap on the floor, unless it was her combat gear, which was cleaned and oiled and stored with as much care as her weapons. I thought of things to say and discarded each of them in turn. Eventually I slept again. When I woke, soon after dawn, she was up and gone. Perhaps she talked toRegan before he left, perhaps not. When the time came, I bade him and Fingal farewell with the best smile and the bravest words I could find. But it seemed to me that when Regan went down the mountain, Shadowfell lost its heart.
Tali and I were next to go. As we made our way down to the river and across the shaky rope bridge, I tried not to wish it were Flint walking beside me. The longing for him was a physical ache in my chest, all the stronger
At a certain point she accepted the inevitable and the arguments ceased. She gave me curt instructions about what to pack and told me, without consultation, which path we’d be taking. She avoided talking to Regan.
He seemed much as usual. He sat down with Bearberry, Hawkbit, and me, and we went over what the Folk Belowhad shown us at midwinter. Tali and I both knew the way to Darkwater, a settlement on a western sea loch. But we would not pass through the place where my father had died. Instead, we would make for Pentishead, some miles to the south, and embark on the voyage Twayblade had demonstrated in the nest-boat: out between the inner islands, then to Ronan’s Isle, steering clear of the skerries.
“What about a boat?” I asked.
“Leave that to Tali,” said Regan. “Once you’re out of the mountains, you’ll travel as a pair of women seeking work. It’s the best choice for avoiding notice. Once you reach the coast, you’ll likely find someone to ferry you over for a few coppers. Flint has been expert thus far at keeping the king’s attention away from the outer isles, using the argument—true enough—that they’re hard to reach and not many folk live there. That can only be to your advantage.”
“There are sure to be Enforcers on the road now spring’s come, especially around Summerfort. The idea of traveling openly does scare me.”
“Between Tali’s good judgment and your instincts, I’m confident you’ll reach the isles safely.” A pause here, as he turned his searching blue eyes on me. “Believe me,” he said, “it never gets any easier to send the folk of Shadowfell out across Alban, not knowing how many will come back in one piece. We’ve lost a few over the years and never found out what befell them. But we have work to do, a message to spread abroad. With Tali to protect you, you’ve a better chance than many of making the journey without coming to harm.”
I said nothing, only nodded. A look passed between Bearberry and Hawkbit. It told me they, like me, were thinking this perceptive human leader had missed the important fact that the Good Folk had played a significant part in keeping me safe on my journey to Shadowfell, and perhaps in those difficult years before. Sage had been watching over me from a distance for some considerable time. Never mind that; Sage was gone. I did need a strong human companion, and there was no doubt Tali was strong, though whether she could be a good companion was yet to be seen.
The rebels left Shadowfell a few at a time, taking advantage of breaks in the weather, going their separate ways. The night before Regan and Fingal departed, I dreamed of Flint riding out from Winterfort with his Enforcer troop, though I could not tell where they were headed. When I woke, Tali was sitting on her bed, polishing an already gleaming knife by the dim light of the lantern that hung out in the hallway. I caught her eye, but the look on her face told me to hold my tongue. I lay awake for some time, as was usual when Flint had appeared in my dreams, and she said not a word. Later, when I had dozed fitfully and woken again, she was folding garments into a pile with meticulous precision—she, who tended to throw clothing in a heap on the floor, unless it was her combat gear, which was cleaned and oiled and stored with as much care as her weapons. I thought of things to say and discarded each of them in turn. Eventually I slept again. When I woke, soon after dawn, she was up and gone. Perhaps she talked toRegan before he left, perhaps not. When the time came, I bade him and Fingal farewell with the best smile and the bravest words I could find. But it seemed to me that when Regan went down the mountain, Shadowfell lost its heart.
Tali and I were next to go. As we made our way down to the river and across the shaky rope bridge, I tried not to wish it were Flint walking beside me. The longing for him was a physical ache in my chest, all the stronger
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