It wasn't as
hard going down
as she'd expected. Maybe because she was still high on adrenaline,
running in survival mode. Her feet seemed to find
the toeholds of their own accord and in a few min
utes she was on the boulders.
"Cady." Her fingers found warmth and cloth. It
moved and she heard another little sigh. "Cady, are
you okay? I can't see you."
And then the darkness seemed to lighten, and
Maggie realized that she
could
see the shape she
was touching, dimly but distinctly. She glanced up
and went still.
The moon was out. In a sky that was otherwise
covered with clouds, there was a small opening, a clear spot. The moon shone down through it like a
supernatural white face, nearly full.
"Maggie." The voice was a soft breath, almost a
whisper, but it seemed to blow peace and calm into
Maggie's heart. "Thanks for letting me rest. I feel
stronger now."
Maggie looked down. Silver light touched the
curves of Cady's cheek and lips. The blind girl
looked like some ancient Egyptian princess, her
dark hair loose in crimped waves around her shoul
ders, her wide, heavy-lashed eyes reflecting the
moon. Her face was
as
serene
as
ever.
"I'm sorry it took so long. I got some water,"
Maggie said. She helped Cady sit up and put the
water bag to her lips.
She doesn't look as feverish, she thought as
Cady
was drinking. Maybe she can walk.
But where?
Where can we go?
They would never make it to the pass.
And even if they did, what then?
They'd be high on a moun
tain-some mountain-in the dark and cold of a
November night.
"We need to get you to a doctor," she said.
Cady stopped drinking and gave the bag back. "I
don't think there's anything like that here. There might be some healing woman down there in the
castle--
but
.
.
She stopped and shook her head.
"It's not worth it."
"What do you mean, it's not worth it? And, hey, you re
really feeling
better,
aren't you?" Maggie
added, pleased. It was the first time Cady had gotten
out more than a few words. She sounded very weak,
but rational, and surprisingly knowledgeable.
"It's not worth it because it's too much of a risk.
I'm
too much of a risk. You have to leave me here,
Maggie. Go down and get to shelter yourself."
"Not this again!" Maggie waved a hand
She
re
ally couldn't deal with this argument anymore. "If
I left you up here, you'd die. It's going to get freez
ing cold. So I'm not going to leave you. And if
there's a healing woman down at the castle, then
we're going to the castle.
Wherever the castle is."
"It's the place all the Night People are,"
"The slaves, too.
Every
body who lives here is inside the castle gates; it's
really like a little town. And it's exactly the place
you shouldn't go."
Maggie blinked. "How come you know so much?
Are you an escaped slave like Jeanne?"
"No. I heard about it a year or so ago from some
one who had been here. I was coming here for a
reason-it was just bad luck that I got caught by
the slave traders on my way in."
Maggie wanted to ask her more about it, but a
nagging voice inside her said that this wasn'
t the
time. It was already getting very cold. They couldn't
be caught on the mountainside overnight
"That road the cart was on-does it
go
all the
way to the castle? Do you know?"
Cady hesitated. She turned her face toward the valley, and Maggie had the strange sense that she
was looking out.
"I think so," she said, at last. "It would make
sense that it does, anyway-there's only one place
to go in the valley."
"Then we've got to find it again." Maggie knew
that wouldn't be easy. They'd run a long way from
tion. "Look, even if we don't get to the castle, we
should find the road so we know where we are. And if we have to spend the night on the mountain,
it's much better to be in the forest. It'll be warmer."
"That's true. But-"
Maggie didn't give her a chance to go on. "Can
you stand up? I'll help-put your arm around my
neck
. . . ."
It was tricky, getting Cady out of the nest of boul
ders. She and Maggie both had to crawl most of the
way. And although Cady never complained, Maggie
could see how tired it made her.
"Come on," Maggie said. "You're doing great."
And she thought, with narrowed eyes and set teeth,
If
it comes to that, I'll
carry
her.
Too many people had told her to leave this girl.
Maggie had never felt quite this stubborn before.
But it wasn't easy. Once into the woods, the can
opy of branches cut off the moonlight. In only min
utes,
Cady was
leaning heavily
on Maggie,
stumbling and trembling. Maggie herself was stum
bling, tripping over roots, slipping on club moss
and liverwort.
Strangely, Cady seemed to have a better sense of
direction than she did, and in the beginning she
kept murmuring, "This way, I think." But after a
while she stopped talking, and some time after
that, she stopped even responding to Maggie's
questions.
At last, she stopped dead and swayed on her feet.
It was no good. The taller girl shivered once,
then
went limp. It was all Maggie could do to break
her fall.
And then she was sitting alone in a small clear
ing, with the spicy aroma of red cedar around her, and an unconscious girl in her lap. Maggie held still and listened to the silence.
Which was broken suddenly by the crunch of
footsteps.
Footsteps coming toward her.
It might be a deer. But there was something hesi
tant and stealthy about it.
Crunch, pause; crunch
pause.
The back of Maggie's neck prickled.
She held her breath and reached out, feeling for
a rock or a stick-some weapon. Cady was heavy
in her lap.
Something stirred in the
salal
bushes between
two trees. Maggie strained her eyes, every muscle
tense.
"Who's there?"
CHAPTER 11
T
he bushes stirred again. Maggie's searching fin
gers found only acorns and licorice fern, so she made a fist instead, sliding out from underneath Cady and holding herself ready.
A form emerged from the underbrush. Maggie
stared so hard she saw gray dots but she couldn't
tell anything about it.
There was a long, tense moment, and then a voice came to her.
"I told you you'd never make it."
Maggie almost fainted with relief.
At the same moment the moon came out from
behind a cloud. It shone down into the clearing
and over the slender figure standing with a hand
on one hip. The pale silvery light turned red hair
almost black, but the angular face and narrowed
skeptical eyes were unmistakable. Not to mention the sour expression.
Maggie
let
out
a
long,
shuddering breath. "Jeanne!"
"You didn't get very far, did you? The road's just
over there. What happened? Did she drop dead
on you?"
It was
amazing
how good that irritable, acerbic
voice sounded to Maggie. She laughed shakily. "No,
Cady's not dead.
dead-you know, the big
slave trader guy. But--"
"You're joking." Jeanne's voice sharpened with respect and she moved forward. `"You killed hunt'
"No. It was-look, I'll explain later. First, can you
help me get her to somewhere more
protected
? It's
really getting freezing out here, and she's com
pletely out."
Jeanne leaned down, looking at
you before I wasn't going to help you if you got
in trouble."
"I know," Maggie said. "Can you sort of pick her
up from that side? If we both get an arm under her shoulders
she
might be able to walk a little.
"
.
`Bull," Jeanne said shortly. "We'd better
chair
carry
her. Link hands and we can get her up."
Maggie clasped a cold, slender hand with cal
luses and a surprisingly firm grip. She heaved
weight, and then they were carrying the uncon
scious girl.
"You're strong," she grunted.
"Yeah, well, that's one of the side benefits of
being a slave. The road's this way."
It was awkward, slow work, but Maggie was
strong, too, and Jeanne seemed to be able to guide
them around the worst of the underbrush. And it was so good just to be with another human being who was healthy and clear headed and didn't want to kill her, that Maggie felt almost lighthearted.
"What about
P.J.? Is she okay?"
"She's fine. She's in a place I know-it's not
much, but it's shelter. That's where we're going."
"You took care of her," Maggie said. She shook her head in the darkness and laughed.
"What are you snickering about?" Jeanne paused and they spent a few minutes maneuvering around
a fallen log covered with spongy moss.
"Nothing," Maggie said. "It's just
you're pretty
nice, aren't you?
Underneath."
"I look out for myself first. That's the rule around
here. And don't you forget it," Jeanne said in a threatening mutter. Then she cursed as her foot sank into a swampy bit of ground.
"Okay," Maggie said. But she could still feel a
wry
and wondering smile tugging up the corner of
her mouth.
Neither of them had much
breath
for talking
after that. Maggie was in a sort of daze of tiredness
that wasn't completely unpleasant. Her mind
wandered.
she had never met anyone so confus
ing. Her entire body reacted just at the thought of
him, with frustration and anger and a longing that
she didn't understand. It was a physical pang.
But then
everything was so
confusing. Things had
happened
so fast since last night that she'd never
had time to get her mental balance.
incredible thing that had happened between them
was only one part of the whole mess.
He said he'd killed Miles....
But that couldn't be true. Miles couldn't be dead.
And
Was he?
She found that she didn't want to think about
that. It was like a huge dark cloud that she didn't
want to enter.
Wherever Jeanne was taking her, it was a long,
cold trek.
And a painful one.
After about fifteen
minutes Maggie's arms began to feel
as
if they were
being pulled out of the sockets, and a hot spot of pain flared at the back of her neck. Her sweat was
clammy running down her back and her feet
were numb.
But she wouldn't give up, and Jeanne didn't ei
ther. Somehow they kept going. They had traveled
for maybe about forty-five minutes, with breaks,
when Jeanne said, "Here it is."
A clearing opened in front of them, and moon
light shone on a crude little shack made of weath
ered wood. It leaned dangerously to one side and
several boards were missing, but it had a ceiling
and walls. It was shelter. To Maggie, it looked
beautiful.
"Runaway slaves built it," Jeanne said breathlessly
as
they took the last few steps to the cabin. "The Night People hunted them down, of course, but they didn't find this place. All the slaves at the castle know about it." Then she called in a slightly
louder tone, "It's me! Open the door!"
A long pause, and then there was the sound of a
wooden bolt sliding and the door opened. Maggie
could see the pale blob of a small face. P.J. Penob
scot, with her red plaid baseball
cap
still on back
ward
and her
slight
body
tense,
was
blinking
sleepy, frightened eyes.
Then she focused and her face changed.
"Maggie! You're okay!" She flung herself at Mag
gie like a small javelin.
"
Ow
-hey!"
Maggie swayed and Cady's limp body
dipped perilously.
"I'm glad to see you, too," Maggie said. To her
own surprise, she found herself blinking back tears.
"But I've got to put this girl down or I'm going to
drop her."
"Back here," Jeanne said. The back of the cabin
was piled with straw. She and Maggie eased
dia
again.
"You got us out. We got away," P.J. said, her
sharp little chin digging into Maggie's shoulder.
Maggie squeezed her. "Well
we all got us out,
and Jeanne helped get you away. But I'm glad ev
erybody made it."
"Is she
...
all right?" P.J. pulled back and looked
down at
"I don't know." Cady's forehead felt hot under
Maggie's hand, and her breathing was regular but
with a rough, wheezy undertone Maggie didn't
like.
"Here's a cover," Jeanne said, dragging up a piece
of heavy, incredibly coarse material. It seemed as
big as a sail and so rigid it hardly sagged or folded.
"If we all get under it, we can keep warm."
They put Cady in the middle, Maggie and P.J. on
one side of her and Jeanne on the other. The cover was more than big enough to spread over them.
And the hay smelled nice. It was prickly, but
Maggie's long sleeves and jeans protected her. There was a strange comfort in
P.J.'s
slight body
cuddled up next to her-like a kitten, Maggie
thought. And it was so blessedly good to
not
be
moving, to not be carrying anyone, but just to sit still and relax her sore muscles.