13 A Voice in the Dark

THREADFIN BEGAN TO notice Pole’s wheezing efforts to remain upright and moving. ‘You need to rest a while.’

‘I’m fine,’ he barked, the purple scar on his face puckering as he winced. ‘Bastard didn’t get anything vital. I bandaged it up good.’

Sounded convincing, true enough, but Threadfin couldn’t help thinking the man shouldn’t be alive. Well, considering the amount of blood that had spilled out of him. Could breathers survive wounds like that? He didn’t know, wasn’t certain he cared. So why am I bloody well thinking about it then?

He walked on with the odd glance behind. Pole stumbled as they went downhill at an angle, skirting the mountains on their southern edge. Birch and elm gave way to oak. The light was fading, but that didn’t bother Threadfin. A viral saw in the dark as well as a slinkt. Another reason he’d been valuable in Lame. Encountering a small stream, Pole took gulps of icy water as they stopped to rest. Nothing but creaking cold as the sleet fell heavier.

With a wince, the breather lowered himself against a cadaver of wood that was twisted and rotten. He closed his eyes for several minutes as night fell quickly.

‘Hey, are you okay?’ Threadfin touched his shoulder.

Pole broke into a spluttering cough, gripping his side. He opened his eyes. ‘Were being followed, lad. You head on to Keel. It’s a village somewhere northeast of here. I’ll be along in a bit.’ Another series of coughs shook him.

Threadfin put an arm around his shoulders, but Pole attempted to shrug him off. ‘Look, I shouldn’t have made it this far.’

‘What is it you’re not telling me?’

‘Had to see that you were alright.’

‘Why?’

‘Because ... we need you.’

‘Who is this, we?’ Not to mention, who would need Threadfin Todder? It couldn’t have been for thieving, could it?

‘There’s ... ah,’ he cried in pain. ‘There’s a woman waiting for you. Her ... name is, Scatter. You must trust her.’

Threadfin got to his feet and scanned the forest. It was too dark to see far even for him, though he saw enough. He listened, sniffed the air. ‘There’s no one out there.’ At least, there wasn’t yet. ‘Come on, we can both make it.’

Pole shook his head, wheezing. The drop in temperature was dramatic, the ground hardening. Threadfin felt iciness rummaging through his clothing, though it didn’t touch him like it did Pole. Fog curled about his ankles as the sleet stopped falling.

‘You’re ... a good man, Todder, for a half corpse.’ A series of coughs racked him. ‘But you’re as thick as a grolg’s dick, you know? You need to ... go.’

‘Keel must have a healer.’ He’d never heard of this village and guessed it would be isolated from everywhere. Still, most villages had at least one healer. ‘I can go get help and come back.’

‘You don’t understand. You must get away and make that rendezvous. She will take care of you. You don’t stand a chance otherwise.’ He froze. ‘Listen!’

Threadfin did, ears straining. The trees creaked but otherwise the forest was silent.

Gripping him beneath the arms, Threadfin forced Pole to his feet. ‘It’s just a bit further, right? You know, I never believed I’d see the day when I’d be helping a breather, especially one as ugly as you.’

‘Hah,’ coughed Pole, ‘never thought I’d need help from a walking corpse to keep me from getting dead.’ Another cough shook him. ‘Hah, that’s one I got to remember.’

‘I’m half dead like that brain of yours. You know, you’d almost make a decent viral, but we do have standards.’ Through the trees, Threadfin heard a sighing sound, but there was no wind. The upper branches were stiff with cold. Besides, wind couldn’t make that noise. It was like distant voices, calling.

They settled into a hobbling gait. At first, he didn’t think they’d ever manage. Then the other man began to cooperate. He’d no choice since Threadfin wasn’t giving him one.

‘You’re as thick as a grolg’s—’

‘Yeah, you said already. You seem to know a lot about grolg anatomy. Had much experience in that area then?’

Another bout of wheezing coughs swallowed Pole’s laughter. It was slow progress. They halted and crouched behind a large oak, needing rest. Threadfin still felt odd as though something was wrong with his insides. It felt like the same affliction and yet different.

He also felt an itch, like someone was watching them. He attempted to muffle the man’s coughing. The sleet resumed, dripping through gaps in the canopy. In the distance, patchy greyness suggested the forest’s edge. Then he spotted Pole’s sword belted to his waist. Threadfin slid the weapon free of its hide sheath. If someone attacked them, it didn’t look like the breather was going to be much good. Better if he had it ready, just in case. Besides, he felt a comfort in the weight of a weapon. It was then he realised his mistake, as the metal caught a glint of errant starlight through a gap in the canopy.

Within the blade, he saw a naked man, tufts of bloodied fur around his feet. The face remained in shadow. Looming behind him were monstrous figures, thumping closer. The breather appeared oblivious, pointing straight at Threadfin.

The vision faded to the dull gleam of iron.

He lay back, stunned by what he’d seen, uncertain what it might mean. Reflections were dangerous things. He should’ve known better, but he was exhausted and recent events had left him unbalanced. All he needed to do was find a healer’s gurd. He could leave Pole there and continue on.

He thought him asleep or passed out, but still put a hand near the breather’s face to check. He felt moist warmth on his palm. The warmth of a breather’s breath, the thumping of a pulse, or the drip of red blood had always fascinated him.

Twigs snapped nearby.

He froze, hand still at Pole’s mouth. It was unlike him to allow anyone sneak close. I really must be tried.

‘Hello,’ hissed a voice. ‘I know you’re there, yes, yes, oh I know.’

Threadfin snatched his hand back and gripped the sword. Was it a friendly voice? Do I have a Grim-blinded choice? ‘Here,’ he shouted, and cringed. ‘We’re over here,’ he added in a lower voice.

Out of the night stepped a haggard form, doubled over, and leaning on a staff. It stepped right up to him. ‘Is he alive?’ spat the deformed figure, a woman’s voice. He got the impression this breather was ancient.

Threadfin wiped spittle from his face. The living could be disgusting at times. ‘Can you help him? He was wounded, days ago.’

‘Silence,’ she hissed. An audible sniffing ensued. The knarred form twisted left and right. ‘Not alone, no, no. Quickly, get him up. Yes, yes, follow me.’