with cold, even though she was now wearing almost every piece of clothing she’d brought with her. ‘I’d really rather not lose my fingers and toes to frostbite.’
Jack sighed.
‘We are nearly through the forest, though you cannot see the edge of the trees from here. The cave I spoke of is not so very far now, no more than an hour away.’ Sorrel snorted and tossed her head and Jack narrowed his eyes, staring into the shadow beneath the surrounding trees. ‘And it’s our only choice: you cannot sleep in the woods. Not if you wish to be alive when morning comes.’
‘I’m pretty sure I can deal with whatever this wood might throw at us.’
Jack bent his head towards hers.
‘Perhaps so. But what about your friend? Would you risk him?’
Merry glanced at Finn. He was slouched on a fallen tree trunk a few metres away, staring down at the snow. Jack had a point. Despite his earlier show of bravado, without magic, Finn couldn’t defend himself so well, and if he got captured …
She wasn’t about to have another person she loved turned into a bargaining chip.
‘OK. Let’s go.’
Jack nodded, strode over to Sorrel and began pulling the bags off the horse’s back.
‘You should ride.’
‘No. I don’t know how, and I don’t want to. I can keep walking.’
‘You’re shorter than the –’ Jack paused, cleared his throat – ‘than Finn and me. You’re slowing us down.’ He tilted his head, watching her. ‘I can tie you on, if you wish.’
Merry gritted her teeth.
‘No, thanks. I’ll manage.’
Luckily, Sorrel was standing quietly. There was a saddle of sorts, but no stirrups: Jack had to hoist her up on to the horse’s back. Once there, Merry had to wedge her knees underneath two horn-shaped bits that stuck out from the front of the saddle. She leant over and wound her hands into the horse’s mane.
A howl ripped through the stillness of the forest. Sorrel shied and Merry lurched precariously. Jack grabbed the reins and drew his knife, urging Sorrel into a walk. Finn picked up his and Merry’s bags and took up position next to her.
‘Finn? Are you OK?’
He didn’t reply; just dropped his head and jerked his backpack further up on to his shoulders.
‘Finn?’
‘I’m fine, Merry. C’mon, let’s get you out of this cold.’
He didn’t sound fine.
Merry tightened her grip on the horse. She really needed this day to be over.
Perhaps Jack’s estimate of the distance to the cave was accurate, but to Merry it seemed like one very long hour. A couple of times she nearly fell asleep, nodding over Sorrel’s neck, catching herself just in time as she began to slip sideways. And once she thought she saw a face peering at them from the trees nearest the path. But by the time she’d blinked and straightened up to get a better look, whatever it was – if it was anything at all, other than her imagination – had gone. Finally, the trees thinned and petered out. Spread below them in the moonlight, which now shone only fitfully between the clouds, was a wide, empty plain.
Not entirely empty: Merry could just make out scattered groups of buildings, or the remains of buildings. But there was no firelight, or torchlight. No signs of life anywhere.
‘This way.’ Jack turned right, away from the path that meandered down the side of the hill, leading them parallel to the wood in the direction of a rocky outcrop. He was walking faster now, guiding Sorrel past boulders half-submerged in snow, until they came to a clump of Scots pine. Beyond the pines was a sort of … fold in the ground, which deepened into a steeply sloping channel. Finally, after another few minutes of anxious scrambling, they reached the bottom.
‘Here.’ Jack pulled aside an overhanging curtain of trailing ivy. Behind was a tall cleft in the rock face. ‘It widens, inside.’
Finn dumped the bags on the ground by the cave entrance, wincing and rolling his shoulders back. ‘We need a fire.’
‘I can take care of that.’ Merry tried to dismount elegantly. But after sitting for so long, her arms and legs were too cold to obey her; she managed to swing one leg across the saddle before losing her grip and sliding sideways.
‘Careful—’ Jack began, but Finn was quicker. He grabbed Merry and lowered her gently to the ground. Her knees buckled under her immediately.
‘Sorry,’ Merry murmured. ‘Pins and needles.’
‘You’re frozen.’ Finn picked her up. ‘Let’s get inside.’
The cave was a lot larger than it looked from the outside, stretching back a long way into the hillside above. As they passed behind the ivy Merry conjured several globes of witch fire, sending most upwards to hover by the roof of the cave and keeping one in between her hands to warm them. The flickering violet light cast strange shadows, but at least it revealed their surroundings: a sandy floor in the front sections of the cave, giving way to moss-covered rocks further back. The twisting shape of the cave – from the middle of it, Merry couldn’t see the entrance – gave protection from the wind outside. Someone had dug a pit in the ground that was filled with ash; clearly, they weren’t the first people to have sought refuge here. There was even a small spring that bubbled out of a fissure in the wall before seeping away into the earth. Watching the water, Merry realised how hungry and thirsty she was. She glanced round to locate her bag and saw that Finn was sitting with his head in his hands again, tapping his fingers over and over against his skull.
‘Finn …’
He looked up at her – there was so much grief and fear in his eyes.
‘I can’t feel it any more, Merry.’ He touched the centre of his chest, and Merry remembered how he’d talked to her in the garden back home about sensing and controlling her power. ‘There’s just … emptiness.’
Merry slipped an arm round his shoulders. ‘Have you tried again to cast a spell?’
Finn shook his head. ‘There’s no point. I know it won’t work.’
Jack came in carrying a few branches and twigs. ‘This is all I could find. And it’s damp.’ He glanced uncertainly at Finn. ‘But the spring water is good to drink. It may revive you.’ Arranging the wood in a rough heap in the pit, he brought out two stones from a pouch hanging off his belt and struck a spark. But the fire wouldn’t take.
‘Let me help.’ Merry came to crouch next to Jack. The branches were thin and sodden; even to her untrained eye, they didn’t look like good bonfire material.
They need to be dryer. And much bigger.
There had been a collection of household spells among the books that Gran had given her. Merry could see it now: a blue cloth cover embossed in black. And inside had been all sorts of charms that Merry hadn’t found that interesting. Cleaning spells and darning spells and charms for making your bread mixture rise. There had also been spells for drying clothes and one for getting a tree to produce larger fruit. Some combination of those would surely work here? Merry closed her eyes and tried to remember …
Her power was strong and instant. Before she’d even finished murmuring the makeshift charm, she could feel heat on her face. And light. She opened her eyes again. In place of a few damp bits of wood there was a substantial pile of logs. Flames blazed brightly from the centre of the pile, licking around the edges of the outer logs and making them glow. Merry held her hands up to the fire and sighed as her cold, cramped muscles finally began to relax. She looked at her companions. Finn was staring at the flames, but otherwise he hadn’t moved. And Jack … Jack was busy getting food out of his bag, almost like magical fire-starting was something he saw every day. So far, he’d produced