Two
They left Londlow early the next day. It was warm with a tiny wind that whipped up strands of the carthorse’s mane and blew dust into their eyes, making Quennel curse loudly. Morley blinked and said nothing.
The Raven sat in the back of the cart, the lead attached to her collar tied to a large heavy crate that held most of Quennel and Morley’s clothes and possessions. The other luggage included a leather trunk and a smaller crate containing two scrawny chickens who sat dispirited and silent, heads drooping. Morley, wedged between the trunk and large crate, held a small canvas bag. Quennel sat on the seat up front, next to the carter whom he had hired to drive them to Selseaton.
The cart rattled from side to side, first over the cobblestones of Londlow’s streets, then onto the road that led out of the city into the countryside. Houses changed to hedges, and they turned onto a smaller road, leaving the traffic of carts and horses and coaches behind. The way ran ahead, divided into three parts: dusty grey earth rubbed bare by cart wheels and a strip of untouched grass in the middle.
Lying on her back, the Raven could see the sky burning bright blue above, like a wide, smooth bowl turned upside down. It was as though she were inside the bowl, looking up at the carefully glazed base. Smears of thick white paint – clouds – hung motionless in the blue, making pictures of people and animals within themselves.
She sighed and closed her eyes, feeling the hot floor of the cart press against her cheek. The sky was so beautiful. No matter what happened, the sky was always beautiful. Something Elven deep inside the Raven made her crack open one eyelid and stare upwards, momentarily dazzled by the everlasting blue of the sky.
The cart jolted; Quennel swore again. Lazily but carefully, she reached out with her mind and felt for his thoughts. They were not interesting or even very coherent – a stream of grumbles and feelings: the seat was too hard, the sun too hot, the dust too annoying, and the carter too stupid. Then one solid thought formed: All right for the hybrid, cursed creature. The Raven Sensed him turn and scowl at her. Asleep, lazy beast.
She smiled smugly to herself and closed her eyes again. Quennel turned back, and, wriggling a little on the hard-boarded, jolting floor of the cart, the Raven went to sleep.
---
A sharp poke in her side awakened her a few hours later. The cart had stopped by an inn and the carter was getting down and unhitching the horse. Morley poked her again. ‘Get up.’
‘What’re we stopping for, Morley-sir?’ she asked, jumping stiffly down.
‘Drink and a rest.’
‘Do I get either of those?’
‘Rest, yes. Drink, if you’re good.’ Quennel wrapped her lead around his wrist and nodded to Morley. ‘Go and ask the landlord if we can borrow an extra stall.’
‘Stable stall?’
‘Yes, Morley, a stable stall. Say it’s for an exhibit. We can’t take it in with us, after all, can we?’
Morley shrugged and went into the inn. A few minutes later he was back. ‘He says it’s all right, so long as it ain’t anything what’ll scare ’is ’orses.’
‘Well, we’re fine there.’ Quennel handed my lead to Morley. ‘Go stable it. I’ll be inside. Make sure that it’s secure. No, wait – stay with it yourself.’
Morley opened his mouth to protest, shut it, bit his lip, and then asked, ‘Can I have a drink first?’
‘If you’re good.’ Quennel laughed and entered the inn.
Morley made a rude gesture at the inn door and led the Raven to the stable, which was a long, thin building attached onto the inn at the back. Inside it was light and airy, smelling of hay and leather and manure. A row of stalls ran against the right-hand side, and a ladder leading to a hayloft stood at the end.
Morley opened one of the stalls at the end and led the Raven in. He tied her lead to a ring set low in the wall and bolted the low door. Then he hesitated. She blinked owlishly at him. He sighed and said, ‘Behave. If you’re good, then I’ll bring you a drink. If you’re naughty, then you won’t get a drink and Quennel will beat you. Understand?’
The Raven nodded and sat down meekly. ‘Yes’m.’
Morley left. She heard him close the stable door. After waiting a minute or two, she reached up and untied the lead. The horse in the stall next to her – a chestnut with a long, thin nose – gave her a cursory glance and then turned back to staring at the wall.
The Raven swung her lead around in the air, enjoying the whitt-whitt-whitt-whitt sound of whirling leather. There was a spider struggling to reach the top of the door. It slipped and swung on its thread, legs waving frantically. She caught it on her finger and stuck its thread on the wall. The spider caught and began to climb. It found a knothole and rested there a moment before continuing its journey. When it reached the sloping ceiling, it scuttled around aimlessly for a bit before settling down. It twitched a front leg triumphantly and began to spin.
The Raven wrapped the end of the lead around her wrist and put her hands on the wall that connected her stall to the empty one next to it. She hoisted herself up and swung a leg over the edge of the stall. It wasn’t thick enough to sit comfortably astride, so very carefully, holding onto the beam that ran above her head to the spine of the roof, she stood up. Her bare toes gripped the stall edge; she could just feel the rough wood under her brine-toughened soles.
Her next door neighbour turned his head as far as his halter would allow and stared at her, his ears flicking back and forth. Odd thing. Danger. Danger? Odd thing up. Big. Big? Man. Small. Cat? Bird? Odd thing. Danger.
Odd thing good, the Raven told him, a grin spreading over her face. She let go of the beam and spread her arms out. A half-buried memory floated to the surface of her mind; someone not so long ago, someone with long, kind hands and golden eyes and a seer’s mind…
She took a step forward and another, humming under her breath, then out loud: ‘Boys and girls of every age, wouldn’t you like to see something strange? Come with us and you will see – this our town of Halloween…’
A longer step and she stuck her leg out to one side. ‘This is Halloween, everybody make a scene. Trick or treat ’till the neighbours gonna die of fright…’
She pivoted around and made a circle in the air with her arms. Then another step and she reached up to touch the ceiling beam. ‘I am the one hiding under your stairs; fingers like snakes and spiders in my hair.’
Her feet groped to find her balance, slipping a little. She swayed and recovered again. The stable was quiet; her high, quiet singing hardly disturbed the dust motes that danced in the rays of sunlight falling through the skylight onto the floor. ‘Halloween, Halloween, Halloween, Halloween…’
She gripped the ceiling beam and carefully lifted her right leg straight up, feeling the muscles stretch as she touched her toes to her right ear. ‘Tender lumplings everywhere, life’s no fun without a good scare! That’s our job but we’re not mean, in our town of –’
‘What the hell!’
The Raven froze. Four stable boys stood in the doorway, their eyes sticking out like they had goitre.
There was a long, long silence. Then the Raven slowly lowered her arms to her sides. As if that had been a signal, they rushed forward. She leapt down back into the stall, knees bent, and pressed herself into the back right corner. They stared at her over the door.
‘Gorblimey,’ one breathed.
‘Wha’ is it?’
‘It was singing…’
The Raven took a deep breath. ‘Singing is a very generous term.’
They leaped back, creating a very comic effect. ‘Wha’…’
‘Did it…?’
‘I thought…’
She stood up, went to the lower door and looked at them over the top. They stared at each other for a few minutes, then the biggest of the boys slowly reached out a hand. Very quickly and lightly, he touched her arm.
‘Flesh and blood,’ she said.
‘Where?’ He snatched his hand back hurriedly.
The Raven rolled her eyes. ‘No, asen. I,’ – she pointed to herself – ‘a-am,’ – she spread her fingers wide – ‘flesh and blood.’ She gave a wide, exaggerated smile and blinked her eyes.
They goggled. She pointed with her chin to the red-haired one. ‘Pockets. Sandwich.’
Redhead frowned. ‘How’d you know what I got in my pockets?’
She smiled. ‘I smell mustard.’
‘Oh.’
‘Give me a bit.’
‘What? No!’
‘Go on,’ she wheedled. ‘Gimme. Gimme gimme gimme gimme gimme gimme gimme gimme gimme gimme –’
‘Shut up!’
‘Gimme gimme gimme gimme –’
‘And just what is going on here?’ Quennel demanded. He strode forward; the boys gulped, began to stammer excuses and the Raven dropped down into a crouch on the floor.
‘We didn’t do nothing, sir…’
‘We was just lookin’…’
‘We heard it…’
‘Then it just started gabblin’…’
‘Never saw anything like it…’
‘It wanted my sandwich…’
Quennel yanked the stall door open and pulled the Raven up by her collar. He gripped her chin and turned her face up towards him. She looked at the floor and refused to meet his eyes. He frowned, then said to the boys, ‘Did you do anything to it? No,’ – sarcastically – ‘of course you didn’t.’
‘We didn’t, honest!’
Quennel flapped a hand at them. ‘Go away. If you fiddle with her again, I’ll see that you all lose your jobs.’
‘Oooh, sir!’
‘Believe me, I will.’
‘Yes, sir.’ They left reluctantly, looking back and whispering.
Quennel tightened his grip. ‘What,’ he asked, ‘did you do?’
‘Nothing.’
He pressed her collar against her throat, his fingers digging into her neck. ‘What did you do?’
‘Nothing. I just… got up on the stall and… and sang.’
‘Sang? Sang about what?’
‘Jack Skellington,’ she muttered.
‘What?’
‘Jack Skellington,’ the Raven said, louder. ‘The Pumpkin King.’
Quennel pushed his face close to hers. ‘Talk properly,’ he said, each consonant sharp with precision.
‘I am. You just don’t know who Jack Skellington is.’
Quennel released her collar and hit her smartly across the face. She stumbled back into the far corner, her hand pressed against her cheek.
‘Don’t speak to me like that again.’ Quennel pointed a finger at her. ‘Do you hear? Don’t you ever speak to me like that again.’
‘Yes. I mean, no…’
‘No what?’
‘No, master.’
‘Good.’ He opened the door and went out, bolting it shut after him.
The Raven stared up at the ceiling. The spider had begun a web, weaving and gluing silk like the whole world depended on it.
---
Comments on the characters appreciated, please. And if there's any places where it's in first when it should be third. ><
)
