The Flame in the Mist (26 page)

“Jem!” Digby’s amazed voice came from behind her. “What the …?”

“Look at Ma!” Talon said. “She’s sleepin’ like a babe! I don’t know what you done, Jemma, but you done somethin’. Her breathin’s easier too.”

Jemma was vaguely aware that the soreness on her own back from Fang’s scratches had subsided as well. She mumbled thanks to whatever or whoever had guided her, then crumpled onto the floor next to Alyss. The image of a face—her mother’s—floated from one of the crystals and hung in the air. Another, a man’s, hovered beside it. Her father? It wasn’t clear, just a dark blur.

The faces diffused, and she fell into a deep sleep.

A cord of light pulled her toward a man. Behind him, a small town appeared, walled, on a hill. The man became clearer—the one from her dream last week, cloaked, coming for her through the Mist! She tried to scream, and resisted with all her might, but the cord of light kept pulling, pulling.… Then she saw his face. It was Nox Agromond—she was being pulled toward Nox Agromond! “You have the Power to call her back,” he said. “The mare. Call her back!” Who, Pepper? Why, why was he telling her this, him of all people?

*  *  *

Jemma woke, terrified. Noodle and Pie were sitting in front of her face, their ruby eyes blinking at her in the gray dawn light.

Another dream?

Yes, another dream, and she didn’t want to think of it. She sat up and looked around. Alyss, on the mattress, was still sleeping peacefully, with Talon beside her. Over by the hob, Digby was snoring on the floor, the saddlebags under his head as a pillow.

Last night’s events rolled through Jemma’s head: her hunt for Digby, the rally, Nox’s words.… A dull ache spread across her chest. What time was it? About six, judging by the light. Three more hours to go. Then they would stop looking for her. She’d be safe. But Powerless.

Even if Pepper was to turn up at that very moment, it was too late to reach Oakstead in time. And anyway, far too dangerous, with people out hunting for her.

Call her back
. Noodle nudged Jemma’s hand with his snout.
The horse. Call her back
.

“Are you reading my dreams now, Rattus?” Jemma whispered.
Call her back.…
Well, she may as well try. Closing her eyes, she thought of Pepper’s velvety muzzle, her brown eyes, her dappled coat—every detail she could.
Pepper
, she called in her head, picturing the route they’d taken from Blackwater.
Come on, girl. Past the fork. Left at the yew …
She crawled to the window to look outside. Nothing but Mist, of course. She crawled back to the rats and nestled with them under her mud-caked cloak. What was it going to feel like to lose her connection with it, and the book and the crystals?
Would she no longer be able to hear Noodle and Pie either? The thought was unbearable. It was all unbearable. Even the prospect of meeting her real parents did nothing to lighten her mood. Anglavia was doomed. And she would be nothing but a laughing-stock for the Agromonds and their followers to crow about, just as Nox had said.

Jemma opened one eye. The mattress next to her was empty.

“Hey, Jem.” Digby was squatting next to her. Behind him, Talon was sitting at a small table, Alyss opposite her, both tucking into something and finger feeding morsels of it to Noodle and Pie, who were perched one at each bowl.

“What time is it?” Jemma’s voice rasped. Her heart felt as heavy as an anvil.

“Around noon. We thought we’d let you sleep. Here, I’ll help you up.” He held out his hand and pulled her to her feet. “There’s some nice bread an’ milk. You must be hungry.”

Hungry? She ought to be; she’d hardly eaten a thing for almost a day. But she had no appetite. The world had changed. All her dreams, come to nothing. She slumped onto an upturned pail at the table.

Alyss took her hand. Her fingers were skeletal, but this morning, energy bristled through them. “I can’t thank you enough, child,” she said. “I been out of bed for more’n an hour. It’s at least two years since I was strong enough to do that.”

Jemma tried to smile.

“Jem,” said Digby, putting a bowl of milk-soaked bread in front of her. “I know this is hard on you. Your Powers gone, an’ all. But life don’t end here. Your folks is waitin’ for you in Oakstead. Marsh too. You still got family. An’ me.”

“Us too,” added Talon. “Me an’ Ma, we’re gonna leave Blackwater as soon as she’s strong enough, in’t we, Ma? You done that, Jemma. You healed ’er. You changed our lives.”

Jemma nodded and picked up a piece of the soaking bread. It smelled nice and stale, and she nibbled at it, hunger inching into her. “Any sign of hunters?” she said.

“No,” said Talon, shaking her head. “I heard yellin’ earlier, though. Hollerin’ like lunatics they was. Sayin’—” She clamped her lips together.

“Saying what?”

“Victory.” Talon whispered. “Sorry, Jemma. I should’ve kept me trap shut.”

“Victory.” Jemma sighed. “It doesn’t matter. It’s the truth; I may as well face it. At least Digby and I can go to Oakstead now, with nobody to stop us. How long do you reckon, Dig, to get there on foot?”

“On foot?” Digby’s face lit up. “We in’t goin’ on foot, Jem! While you was asleep— Well, come an’ see!” He jumped to his feet, pulled Jemma to the door, and threw it open. “Look who turned up a couple of hours ago!”

Pepper lifted her head from a patch of chickweed, tossed her mane, and snorted.

“Don’t know how she found us, but find us she did. All ready to go, she is.”

Hope dribbled into Jemma’s veins. The last acts of her short-lived Powers were here in front of her eyes: Alyss’s recovery and Pepper’s return. At least that was something.

“Well then,” she said. “Oakstead, here we come.”

Before long, she and Digby had packed up their few belongings, filled her wineskin with milk, and were back in
Pepper’s saddle, having made Talon and Alyss promise that they’d come to Oakstead as soon as Alyss was strong enough to travel.

“Thanks again for savin’ Ma,” Talon said, patting Pepper’s shoulder. “I’m awful sorry ’bout you losin’ yer Powers, though. Here, let’s make a friends’ knot. Like this …” She reached for Jemma’s hand and interlocked their fingers. “Now, say, ‘Friends forever, friends forever—’ ” She stopped, her eyes widening. “Well, grisly goblins … Look—around yer hands!”

Jemma looked. The air around them was still free of Mist—even though her Initiation time had passed.

“Cor, yes,” said Digby, peering over Jemma’s shoulder. “It’s still clear around ’em!”

“What d’you s’pose it means?” Talon said.

“I’m not sure,” Jemma said, her spirits lifting, “but I think it might be a good thing.”

Digby kicked Pepper into a gentle canter. Jemma looked over her shoulder and waved at her new friends until they were no longer visible in the midday Mist, then turned her gaze forward. Nine o’clock was long gone; yet around her hands, every strand of Pepper’s mane was crystal clear. Perhaps she had not lost her Powers after all, back there among the couch grass and reeds.

Jemma wrapped her cloak around her and leaned against Digby to give him some of its warmth. Soon after leaving Talon and Alyss, they’d been deluged by rain that had washed the remaining berry dye from her hair before she’d had a chance to cover it. Now, a steady drizzle was falling. Noodle and Pie burrowed into her pockets, and Pepper’s initial zest after leaving the shack was replaced by a solid, soggy stomp. But despite the cold and damp, she felt content. Every muddy hoofstep was bringing them closer to Oakstead and meeting her parents. And rain or not, being close to Digby was not such a bad place to be.

“Your hair’s red again, Jem,” Digby said, stretching. “All but a few bits. Hey, look down there in the valley—you can just see the river. This must be the Elm River Pass.”

Jemma wiped her face dry with her cloak and looked at the faint ribbon of water below. “We couldn’t have seen anything from so far away, yesterday. The Mist is definitely getting thinner.”

“Mmm. But not much. An’ Marsh said that by an hour north of Blackwater, it’d be nothin’ more’n a wisp. Which means it’s spread quite a bit since she last came this way, twelve years ago.”

Jemma gripped Pepper’s mane. The Agromond evil was
everywhere, even this far from the castle. Well, if the clearing around her hands meant anything, and Nox had been wrong about her losing her Powers, then she would show them, somehow! Them, and their accursed Mist—

“Jem!” Digby gasped. “What’s happenin’?”

A bubble of clear air shot out to several yards beyond Pepper’s ears. Within it, every raindrop and blade of grass was sharply visible.

“I didn’t do that, did I?” Jemma said. The Mist sprang in, engulfing them again.

“You tell me!” Digby sat up straighter. “Try it again, an’ let’s see.”

Jemma focused, and prayed, and muttered under her breath
—Mist, be gone!
Nothing happened. She held her Stone, and the Mist rolled a few inches up Pepper’s neck, then swirled into the space again. “Sorry, Dig,” Jemma said. “It must’ve been a coincidence.” Her momentary hope deflated like an overcooked soufflé. Nox must have been right, after all. It probably just took time until her Powers drained completely. And besides, merely having a halo around her hands wasn’t much use to anyone, and certainly couldn’t bring down an empire.

Digby walked Pepper at a steady clip. They’d seen no sign of Inquisitors, and had passed barely a soul; the moorlands were almost devoid of any shack or cottage. Mid-afternoon, the road turned west, and Jemma spotted two shadowy figures lurking between the trees, then slinking away. Digby and the rats tucked into the rest of the previous day’s sandwiches as they rode, but all Jemma could manage was a few swigs of
milk. The closer they came to Oakstead, the faster her heart beat in anticipation of meeting her parents, and the harder her stomach churned. Eight miles to go, Digby said. Then seven. Then six—

“Stand an’ deliver!” The gang was upon them before Jemma or Digby realized it, lashing their ponies into attack from behind the trees, screeching with gleeful triumph, and wielding whips and knotted ropes.

“Get ’em!” A boy pulled alongside—the ringleader, Jemma guessed. His face was scarred, his nose pierced with a small bone. The others moved closer, the alcoholic stench of their breath filling the air. With a start, Jemma realized who they were: the last herd to careen past them last night on the road from Blackwater—the ones Talon said would attack just for sport.

One of the girls reached for the saddlebags. “Let’s see wot they got ’ere!”

“No you don’t!” Jemma slapped the girl’s hand away. The ringleader reached out and grabbed Jemma’s arm, leering at her with a rotten-toothed grin.

“An’ who are
you
to be tellin’
her
what to do?”

“Careful, Jem,” Digby hissed into Jemma’s ear. “Pretend to be a boy—”

“Let us go!” Jemma jerked her arm away. “We’ve got nothing—”

“Yeh, but
we
got you!” The girl fingered Jemma’s cloak. “Nice …”

“Leave it
alone
!” Jemma tugged the cloak away.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute!” The ringleader held up his hand, quieting the others, then looked Jemma up and
down. “Them eyes,” he said, “an’ the purple all over yer ugly mug—” He darted out his hand and yanked her hood back. A slow smile oozed across his face. “Well, well … looky here! If it in’t that girl wot Nox Agromond is wantin’ … she in’t a boy at all!”

The girl laughed. “Yer right, Rizzle. Jus’ like that Approjection las’ night!”

Jemma felt Noodle and Pie tensing in her pockets, and willed them to lie low. If they tried to help, they’d be dead in seconds. “You heard what Nox said,” she croaked, trying to quell the tremble in her voice. “I’m no use to him now. My Powers have gone. Don’t you remember?”

Rizzle glared at her, then clasped a clump of her hair.

“Hands off her!” Digby kicked him, and made a grab for him.

“Digby, don’t!” Jemma screamed as a rope slammed down on Digby’s shoulder. Several more hands restrained him.

“Well, Little Miss Betrayer,” Rizzle said, pulling Jemma’s head back, “ ’ow’s it feel to be without yer Powers? An’ don’t you look a sight, nothin’ more’n a grubby little red hedgehog!” His cronies cackled and jeered. Then his expression hardened and he shoved his face up to hers. “An’ jus’ for the record,” he sneered, “I don’t give a rat’s crap what Nox Agromond said. You done us
all
wrong, thinkin’ you could beat us. We’re gonna make yer pay! Whad’you say, gang? Should we take ’er, or should we do as she asks, since she asks so
nice
-like, an’ let ’er go?”

“Take ’er! Take ’er!”

“No!” Jemma grasped at her Stone, but hands grabbed her from either side, pulling in both directions. As she struggled
to stay in the saddle, the saddlebags were whipped off Pepper’s haunches. Digby was dragged to the ground. Several of the gang leapt from their ponies and pummeled him with their fists, yelling “Get ’im! Get ’im!” Jemma wriggled and bit, as Pepper, panicked, pounded her hooves perilously close to Digby. He was lashing out in fury, but was no match for the four boys pinning him down.

“Stop!” Jemma yelled, trying to pull from their grasp. “Don’t hurt him! No—STOP!”

A tide of determination swept through her. Suddenly, her mind seemed to leap outward in all directions at once. The Mist shot back, creating a large, clear sphere around them all. Light poured into it—light so bright that it obliterated everything in Jemma’s vision: the gang, the horses, even Digby. She heard voices, yelling—
“Where’d she go?” “I can’t see nothin’!” “Rizzle, where is you?” “Help!”
—followed by screams, and shrieks of terror—
“Ow, somethin’ burned me!” “It’s comin’ fer us—run!” “She’s a witch—Ruuuun!”
—then frantic whinnying, and stamping hooves.… With a final burst of light, the sphere collapsed, and the band of attackers galloped pell-mell into the darkening Mist.

“Digby!” Jemma jumped off Pepper. Digby lay on his back, groaning, with the saddlebags next to him. The crystals had been thrown out of them and lay in the mud nearby, smoldering. She picked them up and pressed them into his palms.