harpy had started shredding Jack’s arms and neck, scattering dark red droplets of blood across the white snow. Merry summoned two balls of witch fire and launched them at the creature. The seething, coruscating violet strands encased the harpy and it screamed again – screamed in pain, this time. As it flapped around, trying to shake the magic from its wings, Finn leapt forward and brought the sword round in a great arc, slicing the creature’s head from its neck. Body and head tumbled to the ground.
Jack, still crouched on the snow, dragged his gaze away from the dismembered remains and the pool of blood that was rapidly sinking into the frozen earth, and stared at Merry and Finn.
‘You saved me.’
‘Yeah.’ Merry sighed. ‘We saved you.’
All three of them watched the dead harpy for a bit longer. Merry had no idea what to do next.
Finally, Finn bent down to clean the blade of the sword on a bit of moss that was sticking up out of the snow. Jack’s knife was lying nearby; Merry picked it up. ‘If I give you this back, will you promise not to attack us?’
Jack hesitated for a moment, then nodded. Merry handed him the blade. He pushed himself up off the ground and shoved the knife into its scabbard.
‘So,’ he looked at her, the hint of a smile on his lips, ‘just a girl?’
‘I am a girl.’ Merry shrugged. ‘But I’m also a witch.’ She glanced up: two large carrion crows had settled on the branch of a nearby tree, eyeing the bleeding carcass. They were probably just regular birds, but she hadn’t forgotten the crow that seemed to be following her and Leo through the woods a few weeks back.
‘We’re attracting attention.’ She nodded towards the harpy. ‘Let’s get rid of this thing.’
Twenty minutes later, Merry had magically incinerated the remains of the harpy and had healed the injury to Finn’s neck. She walked over to Jack, the pot of Gran’s healing salve still in her hand. ‘Here: this will help.’
Jack peered at the jar. ‘What is it?’
‘It’s an ointment my grandmother made. It will heal the cuts on your arms.’
He drew back. ‘How do I know you’re not trying to poison me?’
‘Poison you?’ Merry shook her head, slipping back into modern English as she exhaled sharply. ‘And why would I be trying to poison you?’
Finn was sitting beneath a tree nearby with his arms wrapped round his legs and Leo’s sword stuck into the ground next to him. He glanced up. ‘If she wanted you dead she’d have let the harpy kill you. Idiot pleb.’
Jack flushed. He couldn’t have understood Finn’s words – and it was doubtful he had ever heard the word pleb used the way wizards used it, as a dismissive term for a non-magical person – but he obviously recognised Finn’s tone of voice. Still, he held out his arms and allowed Merry to dab some of the ointment on to the gashes dealt out by the harpy’s claws. Almost immediately, Merry could see the wounds begin to heal as his skin puckered and pink scar tissue formed: Gran’s potion was working.
Jack winced, flinching from Merry’s touch.
‘The pain won’t last long,’ she reassured him.
He nodded and gritted his teeth. ‘Tell me: are you and Ronan kin? Is that why you speak the same strange language as him?’
Merry stiffened. ‘Can you understand what Finn and I are saying to each other?’
Jack shook his head. ‘I merely recognise some of the words. Ronan’s creatures speak the same way, and I have spent time around them.’ He shuddered, either with discomfort or remembrance – Merry wasn’t sure. ‘Too much time.’
‘Well, Ronan and I are definitely not kin. But we’re both witches.’
‘He is a witch? Not a wizard?’
‘No. Ronan is a male witch – there’s a difference. He inherited his magic from his mother. Male witches are really rare, and they’re usually unstable and have some sort of magical … deformity …’
Jack was looking confused.
‘But Ronan and Finn and me, we do all come from the same place.’
‘But he,’ Jack nodded towards Finn, ‘is not a witch.’
‘No. He’s a wizard.’ More confusion. ‘And no, I don’t know why he didn’t just put a spell on you.’
Jack gasped as Merry spread the ointment on a particularly deep cut. ‘Neither of you dress like any other witch or wizard that I know of.’
‘Really?’ Merry said, trying to appear thoroughly absorbed in what she was doing. ‘How many other witches and wizards do you know?’ The line of Jack’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t reply. ‘There. All done.’
Jack closed his eyes and slumped against the tree stump behind him as Merry sat back on her heels. ‘Now, you need to tell me a couple of things,’ she started. ‘When did Ronan arrive here? And when exactly did you see him and my brother together?’
‘How long has Ronan been here? I do not know. But I do know that he began his attacks around harvest time, and the year is nearly over. As for your brother, I saw him the day Ronan and his creatures first attacked Helmswick. The day the queen died.’
Merry’s stomach lurched. If Jack was right, at least three or four months had passed since her brother had arrived here, possessed by the King of Hearts. She couldn’t bear to think about what Leo might have suffered during that time. She’d seen Jack possessed, of course; had seen him slowly consumed by the King of Hearts, but she’d been able to cast the creature out and had broken Gwydion’s curse. Still, the King of Hearts had survived. Which meant that Ronan had been able to summon it, and place it inside her own brother.
What if the King of Hearts had already taken Leo over entirely? Perhaps there was nothing left of him. Perhaps he was already dead.
‘What was Leo doing, the day you saw him?’ Merry asked. ‘Did he look ill?’ Fear turned her stomach. ‘He didn’t … He didn’t help Ronan murder Edith, did he?’
Jack glanced up at her. ‘No. The queen died by Ronan’s blade alone. Your brother’s hands were not tied, that much I know, but he could have been under a spell …’ He shook his head. ‘I cannot say for sure.’ He sat up straighter, looking about him and frowning. ‘The morning is wasting. I must find my horse. She bolted when your friend blundered into the clearing.’ Jack got to his feet and wandered off into the forest. Soon he was lost to view, though Merry could still hear him calling out the horse’s name.
Finn hadn’t moved all this time.
Merry went to sit next to him. ‘I’m going to try a spell on you, like I did on Leo once. It was so he could understand what Jack and Gwydion were saying. Hold still.’ She pressed one fingertip lightly against his forehead. Finn’s eyes widened as Merry used her power to reach into his mind and share her understanding with him. There was probably a more orthodox way of doing such magic, but she hadn’t learnt a formal spell for it yet. ‘Hopefully that’s worked. I suppose we’ll find out when Jack comes back.’
‘If he comes back,’ Finn murmured, running the tip of one finger across the old scar on the inside of his wrist.
‘What happened before I arrived? Why didn’t you disarm Jack when he attacked you?’
‘I tried to, but …’ Finn shuddered. ‘I couldn’t cast properly. None of the spells worked.’ He clutched her hand. His skin was clammy, and his chest was rising and falling rapidly, as if he couldn’t quite catch his breath. Merry realised that he was scared. Terrified. And that frightened her, because she’d never seen him like this before. Not when they’d first met, and he’d been trapped by a binding charm. Not when they’d found her friend Flo’s body