The Spell of Rosette - Kim Falconer [24]
‘Nell, why are you fussing? It’s just a trip to the woods.’ Rosette’s eyes suddenly went wide. ‘Is there a transit you aren’t telling me about?’
‘You’ve studied the ephemeris. Is there?’
Rosette closed her eyes, visualising the planetary positions for the day. She couldn’t see anything outstanding, and said so.
‘What about last month?’
Rosette frowned. ‘Last month was the lunar eclipse on my north node, but what’s that got to do with today? It’s long past…Oh.’ Rosette put her hand over her mouth to stop a stream of babble.
‘Yes. Oh!’ Nell smiled briefly before letting it fade. ‘What can you tell me about the timing of eclipse events?’
Rosette took a deep breath. ‘An eclipse can have its outcome thirty days before or after the exact alignment, plus or minus three days either side.’
‘Yes, it can, and that brings us to today. It’s nothing to fret about, though I want you to stay aware, and be out of those woods before dark.’
‘Don’t worry, Nell. I’ll be back before dinner.’ She fished gloves from her pockets and pulled them on, picked up her staff and shouldered her backpack before kissing Nell’s cheeks.
The wind struck her face as she opened the cottage door. Nell called her back.
‘Here.’ She daubed a sweet-smelling ointment on Rosette’s lips and thrust the small tin into her gloved hand. ‘This’ll keep your lips from chapping. Use it sparingly; it’s very strong.’
Rosette put the container in her pocket before flipping up her hood and waving goodbye.
Several hours later she was scouring the borders of the Dumarkian Woods, looking for the elusive Snow Root. She had found only one small plant so far and no sign of any others. Pausing before the wall of pine trees, she smiled. She remembered a patch of them carpeting the summer forest floor, their tiny purple blossoms dancing like puppets on a stick. They were further in. She glanced up at the pale sun, took a deep breath and entered the woods.
The stillness struck her first. No wind whipped and cut at her face and not a branch moved. Only the occasional snapping of a twig underfoot, the crunch of snow and the distant screech of a raptor broke the silence. She couldn’t believe a place so still could feel this alive. It teemed with energy, and today not all of it felt friendly.
She imagined this would be an amazing place to explore on horseback. How long had it been since she’d so much as seen a horse in the distance? The last she’d touched had been Assalo, right before he died. She pushed the memory away before it choked her and continued through the woods.
By late afternoon, she had six good-size roots in her backpack. She sat on a fallen log beneath a tall grove of pines, munching on the oatcakes that Nell had packed for her. The sun had vanished behind the cloud cover, and a light snowfall floated down between the branches like puffs of dandelion looking for somewhere to land. It was already getting dark. She shivered.
Retracing her steps, she made slow progress. Her hands and feet were cold and stiff. Her legs felt like lead weights, and she had the eerie sensation of being watched. She turned a full circle, seeing nothing but the sentinel trees and falling snow before she caught a flash of movement. A blast of adrenaline hit her solar plexus, and she sucked in her breath.
There it was again, something slipping in and out of the shadows. She couldn’t identify it. Then a hunkered shape appeared. It seemed damaged. It wasn’t moving right. A high-pitched scream pierced the air and was immediately answered by a squawking challenge. Some creature was clearly under attack. Gripping her staff with both hands, she ran forward, her eyes wide and her heart pounding.
As she came closer, she made out two birds on the ground, flapping dark wings. There was a tug of war going on between a crow and a buzzard twice its size. Both were intent on the quarry and neither would back down. She couldn’t make out what they’d scavenged, but it wasn’t moving or making any noise. Rosette watched with fascination as the