The Wildkin’s Curse by Kate Forsyth

foot, and jostling him with the basket of bread.
    Merry gave him a hard punch in return, all in silence.
    There was a low grating sound, and the wall swung open. A rush of sweet, fresh air flowed over them. Something white and ghostly and soundless soared past them, and Zed cried out in alarm.
    â€˜Shut up, you fool!’ Liliana hissed.
    They stood, pressed together. Merry’s heart was beating so hard he thought it must be bruising the bones of his thin chest. His legs trembled, and he locked his knees so no-one could tell. Tom-Tit-Tot crouched on his shoulder, his sharp claws digging into Merry’s skin. This was a sign the omen-imp was afraid, for normally his claws were sheathed.
    All was quiet. Soft came the hoot of an owl.
    â€˜Come on. Quietly now,’ Liliana whispered. Once again she led the way, and the boys jostled for a moment to be the next to follow her. She glanced back, and even in the darkness Merry could see the scowl on her face, her knotted brows black against her pale skin.
    Merry fell back and went last, looking around him with a fast-beating heart. He recognised the shape of the high, arched ceiling of the grand hall. He could see stars through the gaps in the broken wall. Everything else was a mosaic of black shapes against black. His chest was hurting him. It felt like he had caught pneumonia again, or that something dark and cruel and heavy was crouched upon his ribs. He looked back, suddenly wondering where Stiga was, but he could not see far in the darkness. Liliana pulled the secret doorway shut behind them, and motioned them forward with her hand.
    A flicker of blue light caught Merry’s attention. He looked up. Far above, flames ducked and danced through the window of a room high in the tower.
    â€˜I will never be able to return,’ Liliana said somberly.
    â€˜I . . . I’m sorry,’ Zed stammered.
    â€˜I told you they’d be watching,’ Liliana answered, cold as ice.
    â€˜It wouldn’t be because of that tiny little light,’ Zed said angrily. ‘It must’ve been all that water gurgling down the pipes.’
    â€˜Or the sight of an enormous footstep in the dust,’ Liliana retorted.
    â€˜Or the sound of a shrew nagging all the time,’ Zed said at once.
    â€˜Or the whining of an ill-mannered oaf who cannot bear not to have the last word,’ Merry said.
    â€˜Who’s talking, squirt?’ Zed snapped back.
    â€˜Use your loaf, oaf!’ Tom-Tit-Tot jeered, dancing up and down on Merry’s shoulder.
    â€˜Stop it! Just stop it!’ Lili’s voice broke in half. She raised one thin hand and dashed it across her eyes. ‘Come on, let’s just get out of here. Our only hope is to outrun them. Let’s hope the soldiers haven’t heard all your noise.’
    â€˜Boys enjoy noise,’ Tom-Tit-Tot muttered, but Merry shushed him.
    Suddenly a great white owl swooped down from the sky, screeching so loudly Merry felt every nerve in his body startle. At once Liliana stopped, drawing back into the shadows.
    â€˜What is it?’ Merry began to whisper, but she made an urgent shushing motion with her hand.
    â€˜Soldier in the yard, keeping close guard,’ Tom-Tit-Tot murmured in Merry’s ear.
    Merry stared and stared. Slowly, as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw the shape of a soldier crouched in the shadow of an archway. Had it not been for the faint gleam of starlight on his silver armour, Merry would never have seen him. The guard was looking about, the long snout of his fusillier lifted and ready. It was clear he had heard something and was on the alert.
    Merry glanced up, looking for the owl. It soared away soundlessly, then shrieked again, sounding far away. It was a strange, eerie cry, and made Merry shudder and draw in his breath. The soldier listened, tense and straight, then as the small crickets in the grass resumed their chirping, relaxed, stepping back into the shadows,