The Spell of Rosette - Kim Falconer [102]
There was a gentle breeze, the howls of both wind and beast gone.
He nodded.
‘Now what?’
‘Shush,’ he cautioned with his gloved finger to his lips. ‘We wait.’
And so they waited.
Rosette thought it had been cold plodding up the mountain in the wind, but this waiting was infinitely worse. Even though the sun shone from behind thin clouds, its pallid light held no warmth. She couldn’t feel her fingers and was long past feeling her toes. She and An’ Lawrence stood motionless, holding the reins of their exhausted mounts, the temple cats sitting side by side, their ears pricked, scanning for the faintest sound or movement.
Then Drayco stood, hackles rising along his back, emanating a low-pitched growl. They come.
Rosette looked up at her father as he nodded. Both familiars had warned simultaneously. Both were growling.
‘Quiet him, and unsaddle your horse.’
‘What?’
‘Demons, Rosette. Do as I say! We have to let the horses loose. It would be too tempting to have them in tow.’
‘Tempting? For what?’
The Sword Master’s brow wrinkled as he undid the girth and hauled off the saddle. ‘They’re Lupins, Rosette; the messengers are Lupins. Do you understand what that means?’
Rosette gasped. ‘Lupins? But…’
‘Quiet him!’ An’ Lawrence tilted his head towards her familiar.
Drayco, my lovely, shush. You mustn’t growl. It’s worse than I imagined.
‘Untack your horse and cut it loose now! With any luck and a little magic, they’ll head back to the cave and we can collect them later.’
Was he joking?
‘Do it now, Rosette.’
The tone of the Sword Master’s voice was frighteningly soft and urgent at the same time and it propelled her into immediate action. She threw the near stirrup over the saddle and unbuckled the girth with clumsy fingers. She unclipped the breastplate and hauled the lot—saddlebags, fur roll and all—off the horse’s back from where they thudded onto the frozen ground.
She slipped the reins up to her mount’s ears, grabbing as best she could the broad leather headstall. She couldn’t get her frozen fingers under it. Sinking her teeth into the wet tips of her glove, she pulled her hand free and thrust her blue fingers under her coat, into her armpit. It felt like a hot iron branding her skin.
Pain shot through her as the blood returned to her hand, but she finally worked the bridle from the horse’s head, easing the bit from its mouth. Looking up, she saw An’ Lawrence watching.
‘Stand back.’ He lifted both his hands skyward and cast them, like fishing rods, one at each horse, mouthing a word she didn’t understand. The horses reared, bolting back down the path. The sound of falling shale mixed ominously with thundering hooves and high-pitched whinnies. Rosette watched their rumps as they turned the sharp bend and disappeared.
There was no time to think of the animals’ welfare or how she and An’ Lawrence might retrieve them for the journey back. Something more pressing grabbed her attention, sending chills down her spine.
Three wolves approached, black against the white ice and snow. Did wolves get that big? They were enormous. She felt for the top of Drayco’s head. The temple cat moved in close, sitting by her right side. Scylla was sentinel-still on her left and An’ Lawrence stood in front of them all. Though his sword was not drawn, she saw his hand on his hip, inches from the hilt, and she heard him whisper back to her.
‘They aren’t simply wolves, Rosette. They shift shapes by refracting light from within. It’s an ancient magic, but they have mastered it like no other clan. Keep your hand close to your sword. Be ready. They’re basically men.’
‘They look like beasts to me,’ she whispered back.
‘An illusion, though they are that too.’
‘I’ll keep it in mind.’
Eyes wide, she watched as they came inexorably closer, stiff-legged with heads high.
I won’t let them hurt you. Her familiar’s voice offered comfort, even though these beasts were twice Drayco’s size.
I know, lovely, but let’s not pick a fight.
She had never seen a Lupin before. If the stories she’d heard were anything to go