The Farwalker's Quest Read online

  As they neared Zeke’s house, she kept her eyes on the sycamore, silently begging its approval. Meanwhile, her skin prickled with worry that the tree might actually give it.

  CHAPTER

  9

  “I’m glad you came to ask me,” Jeshua told Luna. He, too, already had heard that Ariel might go off with the Finders, but unlike most others, he didn’t approve. After saying so, he added, “My opinion means nothing, of course,” and went to sit for a long time alone near his tree. Ariel and her mother waited on the edge of the square, far from his voice.

  When he rose and approached them at last, he looked somber. But he shared what the sycamore had said.

  “It is best that she go. And she will.”

  Through the waiting, Ariel’s own fears and her mother’s had sneaked over her heart. The tree’s answer sent relief surging through her and bolstered her nerve.

  It seemed to have the opposite effect on her mother. “She will?” Luna demanded. “As if I have nothing to say about it? What does that mean?”

  Jeshua shook his head. “I can’t tell you. Regardless of my question, that is the answer I receive.”

  Luna drew Ariel to her. “I won’t let her go. I can’t do it.”

  Reaching a sympathetic hand to her arm, Jeshua replied, “You know how I feel about ignoring their advice, especially when it’s this clear. That always seems to cause trouble.”

  Luna smoothed Ariel’s hair. Feeling too much like a pet, Ariel pulled away.

  “I can’t command you,” Jeshua added, “but if she were my child, I would send her.”

  At that, Ariel’s mother bowed her head, pressed her fists to her chest, and nodded. Ariel squirmed, a silent shriek of excitement vibrating through her bones.

  She wanted to tell the Finders herself she was coming. Her mother insisted on knocking together at the door across the lane. When Scarl had been summoned, Luna didn’t even say hello.

  “Walk with me, please,” she said, striding away. Over her shoulder she ordered, “Ariel, you stay here.”

  Scarl gazed thoughtfully after her. Then his eyes slid to Ariel.

  Her breath caught. Could she really spend three weeks with those piercing eyes?

  “The horse is around back,” he said under his breath, “if you’d like to go make friends.”

  Ariel watched Scarl’s long legs catch him up to her mother. He tipped his head toward Luna and clasped his hands at his back as he walked.

  “There’s that crow again,” Ariel thought. If she didn’t know that shape-shifters existed only in stories, she would have thought she had met her first one.

  Seeing them hurry away, she abandoned the hope of overhearing their talk. Disappointed, she skipped from cobble to cobble, watching her mother’s gestures from a distance before she took Scarl’s advice.

  Luna must have walked him ten times around the village square before returning. Meanwhile, Ariel found the horse tethered on a patch of scrubby grass. She stood lock-kneed at first, her heart thumping, until she could look at the horse without flashbacks of the forest on Namingfest Day. His enormous, warm eyes won her over. She stepped closer, first gingerly stroking the animal’s nose, then slipping both hands into the cozy nook beneath his thick mane.

  “Would you protect me, if I needed you to?” she whispered.

  The velvety nose merely sniffed at her pockets.

  Hearing footsteps, Ariel looked up. The two adults turned the corner of the cottage. Luna’s eyes still crinkled with worry, no conviction clear on her face.

  “His name is Orion,” Scarl said, approaching.

  “Is he smart?” Ariel asked.

  Scarl shrugged. “Not really. He’s sturdy. And kind. Have you ridden before?”

  Ariel’s eyes shot to her mother. Luna allowed a fraction of a smile to soften her lips.

  Words could barely get out through the cramp of anticipation and fright in Ariel’s chest. “No,” she admitted. “But I’ve been on a boat and climbed a tree.”

  Scarl’s lips twitched. “It’s not much like either. You’ll learn.”

  “Run to Madeleine’s house now,” Luna told Ariel, “and see if she’ll trade with me for one or two of her birds. Scarl says that in a few days you could send me something tied to its neck. A bit of ribbon or string, so I’ll know you are well. He thinks that since they’ve had practice, the bird would find its way home.”

  In fact, Madeleine gushed and nodded, round-eyed about the idea. Ariel soon returned home with two birds in a grain sack. Luna sat Ariel down with them sternly.

  “This part is my idea, not his. Keep it secret.” She waited for Ariel’s promise, then handed her several strings snipped from an old fishing net. “The yellow means you’re all right. The black …” Luna kneaded her hands. “If anything is wrong—anything at all—send me the black. Some Fishers will come after you. You know they will if I ask.”

  Ariel nodded. Several of her father’s old friends had looked out for them since his death. The salty-skinned men would become almost as ungainly as seals on land if they had to travel far on their feet, but she knew that nothing would stop them. Madeleine’s birds might never reach home from farther away than the Finders would take her by lunchtime tomorrow, but Ariel didn’t say that. Neither did her mother. The pigeons made them both feel better.

  Ariel spent the rest of the day getting ready, stuffing a knapsack with warm clothes and her new skirt to be worn in the grand village of Libros, plus all the food that would fit. The sky was dark by the time she flew around Canberra Docks, saying good-bye to people she’d miss. She enjoyed the amazement on their faces much more than the pained sympathy that had shone there since Namingfest Day.

  She couldn’t find Storian, though. And she saved Zeke for last. It was nearly bedtime before she undertook her toughest good-bye. Tired, she passed through the square toward his family’s cottage. The sycamore spread its shadow against the night. She brushed her hand on its trunk as she passed, wondering what else it knew about her or the future.

  It must have been just about then that her mother changed her mind.

  CHAPTER

  10

  “It will feel like flying, I bet,” Zeke decided, “riding up high on that horse.” Jealousy pushed through the worried crimps in his face. “I wish I could go with you!”

  “Me, too.” Ariel and Zeke stood fidgeting just inside the door to his house. They both knew she needed to get home and to bed, but she couldn’t push her feet outside. Her skin, wideawake, itched for morning.

  “Are you scared?” he whispered. His parents rested not far away.

  She nodded. “But excited, too. Scarl said I’ll see snowy peaks and rivers of flowers.”

  Zeke tugged a lock of his hair. “It’ll be okay. My father would know if it wasn’t.” With a sidelong glance he checked Jeshua’s expression. Perhaps not fully reassured, Zeke added, “Be careful of them, though. And don’t fall off the horse. I’ll ask the maple about you every day until you come back.”

  Shaking his right arm, he showed Ariel the tip of her bone dart hidden away in his splint. “I’ll still keep this while you’re gone, if that’s okay.”

  She threw her own arms around him. “Bye, Zeke. I’ll bring you a present if I—”

  The door banged open, nearly hitting them both. Everyone in the room jumped.

  Luna, a shawl flung over her shoulders, whisked inside. Her eyes swept the room. When she spotted her daughter, partly hidden behind the door, Luna reached both hands to pat her. She seemed to need proof that Ariel was solid and all in one piece.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Luna,” said Zeke’s mother, rising. “Zeke has kept her too late.”

  Gripping Ariel’s shoulders in hands so tense they might have been wringing laundry instead, Luna rolled wild eyes toward Zeke’s parents.

  “Jeshua, I don’t care what the tree says,” she moaned. “I’m frightened.” She lunged to grab the Tree-Singer’s arm. “Something will go wrong, I can feel it! Will you tell t
he Finders I’ve decided against it? I’m sorry they’ve waited, but I can’t do it!” Her head whipped in denial. Her hair, already let down for bed, swirled across her face.

  Yelps of surprise and protest jammed in Ariel’s throat. Jeshua took her mother by both arms and murmured her name, trying to calm her. Zeke’s mother rubbed Luna’s shoulder as well.

  “No. No.” Slipping into tears, Luna clung to both of Zeke’s parents. “I ignored this same feeling the night before Remus was lost. I thought it was silly. I won’t ignore it this time. I can’t lose her, too.” The words melted into sobs.

  Zeke’s mother and father exchanged a long glance while they mumbled soothing words. Jeshua’s eyes found Ariel, standing stricken next to the still-open door. He rubbed his brow.

  “All right, Luna.”

  She turned her reddening face to him. “You mean it?”

  “I likely will rue it, but yes. We can’t have you like this. I’ll go see Elbert now.”

  “Wait!” Ariel cried.

  Her protests sank into the flagstones. Zeke’s mother walked her and Luna home while Jeshua took up his task.

  Their own cottage squatted, familiar and dull, at the same place on the same lane in the same village forever. Ariel knew from past fits of temper that its door did not slam well enough to satisfy her. Instead she turned her back on her mother and flung chunks of peat onto the coals in the hearth. Angry sparks bounced and flew. The fire hissed, voicing Ariel’s frustration and drowning out a whisper of relief she refused to acknowledge. Luna said little, but her wan smile begged forgiveness.

  Not ready to give in but weary from days of emotional turmoil, Ariel hadn’t the energy to speak. When the sparks had all disappeared up the flue and the fire would take no more fuel, she numbly got ready for bed.

  The muffling bedclothes embraced her. Luna stood by the hearth, her eyes alternating between the flames and her daughter. Sleep was just filling Ariel’s head when someone tapped at the door. She jerked back awake.

  Once more, panic leaped to Luna’s face. “Who is it?”

  “Elbert, ma’am,” came his voice. “I know it’s late. It will take only a moment.”

  Luna covered her ears with her palms like a child. “Please leave. I’m sorry, but the answer is no. I won’t argue.”

  “Oh no, I’m not here to argue. Not at all. I understand.”

  Luna’s hands came down slowly. “Do you?” As if she couldn’t believe it and had to see for herself, she was drawn to the door. Ariel rose on one elbow.

  “Indeed. I only wanted to wish you well. No hard feelings. I’m afraid I do need the dart, though. I’d let her keep it, if it was up to me. But the man who sent us might not believe that we found it.”

  Luna spun to her daughter. Too exhausted to resist, Ariel reached for the knapsack still packed and ready at the foot of her bed. She handed over the dart, her face blank. Her mother cracked the door a few inches and poked the dart through.

  “Thank you,” Elbert said through the crack. “I’ll bid you good night, good-bye, and good days, then.”

  “Thank you,” Luna sighed. “And to you.” Hanging on the door in relief and exhaustion, she pulled it open a few inches wider.

  “You’re a good mother, I can see. And the young one? In bed by now, I suppose?” He stuck his head through the doorway. His eyes fell on the table, the hearth, and Luna’s workroom before alighting on Ariel.

  “Ah. But not asleep yet. So goodwill, Ariel, and good night.” His lips curled. “Sleep tight.”

  Elbert’s slow smile in the flickering light would haunt Ariel’s nightmares for the rest of her life.

  Only wind remained in the doorway, however. Luna shut the door behind him and delivered her daughter a hug before retiring herself. With her mind numb already, Ariel fell asleep immediately. If she dreamed, it was only of darkness.

  She didn’t sleep long.

  CHAPTER

  11

  Hands. A weight pressing, dragging. Darkness swirling.

  Drowned in sleep, Ariel pushed to the surface. She broke free and awoke, struggling to breathe. The glow of embers in the hearth slashed across her vision in the dark. She flailed, not understanding how she seemed to be moving without use of her arms or her legs. Then her fingers recognized the cords of a fishing net tangled around her. An icy awareness stabbed into her brain: someone had hauled her from bed. Unknown arms crushed her against a hard chest. She wailed, but the cry couldn’t get out. Her face was so firmly pressed into folds of net and a shoulder that she could barely breathe, let alone scream.

  Chill air blew past her bare feet. Outside, that’s where she was now—outside and being stolen away! Her lungs heaving to pull in a few gasps of air, she fought against her thief and the imprisoning net. Falling, abruptly free of the arms, she struck the ground on her back. Air whooshed from her lips. Her mouth yawned open to gasp for the breath she had lost. It found a cloth gag instead.

  Sailcloth fell over her. Her captor whisked it beneath her and scooped her up as if in a bag. Airborne again, she banged against something less firm than the ground. Two seconds later she jounced in time to the motion, she was sure, of a horse.

  Ariel squirmed and kicked, trying to right herself. When she wailed against the gag, only moaning escaped. Tears of panic and outrage filled the back of her throat. They made it almost impossible for air to slip in. Her attempts to inhale resulted mostly in a wet, ugly rasping.

  Wham! Something struck at the sailcloth, and through it, her ribs.

  “Stop it,” a voice hissed. “Unless you want to pass out. If you do, you’ll have a nasty headache when you wake up.”

  Hatred took over Ariel’s body and mind, numbing her fear and stilling her struggles. She bent all her attention on two things. The first was breathing. Relaxing her vocal cords helped. She sniffed and swallowed as best she could with a mouthful of rag. The more she focused on breathing, the easier it became. And that made it easier to think.

  Her attention turned to the second item: escape. She shifted, every limb tangled in netting, her body more upside down than upright. As the horse moved into a gallop, Ariel used the sway and lurch of her bag to jostle herself into a less awkward position. Moving carefully, her fingers tried to make sense of their trap. In a net, struggling was the worst thing to do; she’d seen enough fish entangle themselves when they could have swum away if they’d only backed off. Her half-awake panic had snarled the net badly already. With small, slow movements, she drew one arm across her chest until she could reach that hand to her chin. Bending her neck as far as she could, she managed at last to hook the gag with one finger. She plucked it free.

  A mouthful of air sent relief coursing through her. She didn’t bother to scream. No matter which direction they’d gone, they’d already passed well beyond the last house in the village.

  Ariel’s ears strained for clues to her location. She couldn’t hear the surging sea or anything other than hoofbeats. They’d been walking at first, probably so the thud of hooves didn’t wake any neighbors. Now they galloped. Ariel had little experience with horses, but she often ran herself. These dull thumps sounded more like feet pounding through meadow or forest than skittering on sand or rattling over rocks. The rustle of sailcloth and clothing, however, blocked any other telltale sound.

  Though she’d gained some movement with her hands, the net proved too tangled to allow her arms to explore any farther. The inside of the bag was so black in the night that she fingered her eyes to make sure they were open. She could tell by the bumping of muscle against her that the bag was slung behind the horse’s left shoulder. The sailcloth must have been cinched there with rope. Through the lurch, Ariel couldn’t even be sure if they were traveling in a straight line or not.

  Her captor was Scarl, she was certain, and not only because she linked him with the horse. The few words hissed at her could have been from any man, but she remembered the feel of being trapped by arms against a chest. Bird claws, not bear hugs, came to min
d.

  A new terror wiped away Ariel’s relative calm. If Scarl was with her, where was Elbert? Her teeth pinched her lip to repress a moan of despair. What had become of her mother?

  She fretted and jounced for what seemed like an hour before the horse slowed and finally stopped. Ariel could not only smell the animal’s sweat and hear the rush of its breathing, she could feel its damp warmth seeping in through the sailcloth. She waited, alert, as the rider swung off. Hands fumbled the bag, and it slid to the ground. Inside, Ariel yelped. She tried to brace for whatever came next. Perhaps he would unwrap the net enough for her to jump up and flee. She resolved to do nothing but glare until she could run.

  Hands felt through the cloth for her head, then rolled an opening past her face. Fresh air bathed Ariel’s skin, lifting the tears from her cheeks. She drew in a deep, sweet breath. The sight of Scarl’s thin face tainted that small joy.

  She tensed for action, but his hands closed about her neck so her limbs remained wrapped tight.

  “Still alive?” he asked. “Good. And smart enough not to waste breath with screaming. That’s good, too. So listen well, Ariel. This can go easy or it can go hard. If you make it too hard, Elbert—”

  “Where is he?” That name had cracked Ariel’s vow to stay silent. She whirled her head, peering into the night shadows. Elbert’s absence made it too easy to envision him wrecking her house. “What did you do to my mother?”

  “Stopped her from fussing, that’s what. Never mind. You have enough to fear here. Elbert will be along soon and—”

  “Is he—”

  “Listen!” He shook her. Her teeth clacked painfully shut. “You said you weren’t scared of me,” Scarl said. Even in the dark, his eyes bored into hers. “You had best be scared of him. He talks honey, but he’s made more of stone. He won’t truck with wailing and fighting. He won’t answer questions. He’ll just cut your throat.”