[Sevenwaters 06] Flame of Sevenwaters by Juliet Marillier

Author:Juliet Marillier [Marillier, Juliet]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781101611722
Publisher: PENGUIN group
Published: 2012-11-06T06:00:00+00:00

I never considered running back to the keep. Caisin Silverhair had given the kind of instructions people get in stories, and I knew well enough what happened in the old tales when folk disobeyed. It seemed to me that when dealing with the Fair Folk, stories might be a more reliable guide than plain common sense, though I hoped to apply the latter as well.

“Down the valley of the stones,” I muttered as Bear and I moved on. I had the blanket under my arm and the flask in the pouch at my belt; I’d managed to get the stopper back in with my teeth. Caisin Silverhair had left us sufficient food for that one meal only, which meant the cordial was all I had for Finbar. I hoped he would find the strength to walk home today. “Over the bridge of withies.” I would not think of the time when Bear and Badger had refused to cross another bridge. Would it break Caisin’s rules if Bear decided to wade or swim instead? Might so small a departure from the instructions spell my brother’s doom? “And look for a big oak tree.” Let this not be one of Mac Dara’s tricks. Let me not find Finbar curled up like a squirrel, cold and dead.

“That’s an odd name,” I murmured, putting out my free hand to stop myself from slipping over on the uneven, pebbly ground. “Caisin Silverhair. Maybe I should call myself Maeve Dog-Friend. Or Maeve Claw-Hands. Not an everyday name, a story name.” Gods, let this not be a terrible mistake, and the two of us heading straight into a trap set by Mac Dara. Let us not be walking boldly forward into one of those tales where human folk get trapped in the Otherworld for a hundred years and come home to find their families long dead and buried.

“Bear the Brave,” I said as he headed downhill, leading the way. “Bear the Beautiful. Faithful Bear.” And although I liked the last one best, it troubled me. It was all too easy to imagine a tale in which those to whom Bear was so loyal came to grief, and he sat vigil beside their bodies, fading day by day from a fine healthy dog to a bony, sad wraith. “We’re going to find them,” I said, squaring my shoulders and lifting my chin. “Today we’ll find them all and bring them home.”

At the foot of the little valley we found a path. It snaked forward into a dense, dark area of forest where the low sunlight barely penetrated. Pale nets of spiderweb festooned every tree. These were not oaks, but gray, spiky things of no kind I recognized, their branches thrusting out like hostile arms to block our way. If we kept to the very center of the narrow path we could avoid being scratched. When I forgot to duck I got cobwebs in my hair. There was a faint rustling all around us, as of countless small creatures busy with mysterious work.

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