The Spell of Rosette - Kim Falconer [88]
On the morning of the fifth day, Jarrod tied his overcoat to the back of his saddle and stowed his gloves deep in the pockets. They had left the relentless cold behind and the air felt fresh but welcoming, no longer an adversary to be overcome. Nell didn’t seem to mind either way, whatever the temperature, though her familiars did. He looked at the massive oak tree beside them, smiling at the raucous sounds.
‘Are they still with us?’
Nell put her fingers to her lips and whistled. The caws and clatter suddenly stopped as three ravens shot out from the centre of the tree and circled above them.
‘They go where I go, for the most part.’ She smiled, following their line of flight. ‘Snow, wind, storm or calm, though they’re thrilled now that it’s warmed up.’
‘So am I.’ He said the words, but he didn’t really feel thrilled.
‘We’ll ride until midday,’ she said, mounting up beside him.
She stroked her horse’s neck and settled into the saddle, scanning the distances. The hills were a dirty brown—the same colour as the wasted cows that were strewn across them. She moved out at an easy jog.
‘Midday?’ Jarrod’s brow wrinkled. ‘But that means we won’t get to Treeon until after noon tomorrow. We could be there in the morning if we kept going. The horses are in fine shape, and surely there’s a town…’
‘Yes, there surely is a town, Jarrod. It’s just a few hours’ ride northeast of the temple. That’s why we’re stopping well before it and skirting around at dawn, undetected.’
He frowned. ‘Why, exactly?’
‘The local pub will be full of bards from Treeon tonight. It’s where the apprentices go to perform and unwind, if customs haven’t changed. The last thing I want is to announce our arrival. The less attention we attract, the better. Remember, we don’t know who the opposition is, and if La Makee has a hand in it, I don’t want her to see us coming.’
Jarrod nodded, shortening his reins as the mare snorted at a burnt-out tree stump by the road. The dead hulk was a startling shape, twisted into the form of a looming bear with outstretched claws. He smiled, leaning forward to pat her shoulder, whispering softly that there was nothing to fear. When she settled he caught up to Nell.
‘You don’t trust La Makee?’
Nell was quiet, still watching the hills as if searching for something, someone. ‘I did once…’ she said under her breath.
‘What’s that?’
Nell cleared her throat. ‘Makee won’t be happy to see me at her gates.’
Jarrod nodded. ‘Does she have any notion of what the spell means or your link to it?’
‘She’s never been to Earth. I doubt anyone could fully comprehend what the spell does—or the nature of the DNA links—if they’ve never seen what can happen when things go wrong. This is an agrarian society. Technology is far beyond her grasp.’
‘But magic isn’t.’
She pressed her lips together. ‘You’re right there. Magic isn’t. Those idiot Corsanon priests…’ She ground the last few words with her teeth.
‘The Corsanon high council?’
‘They were the ones who helped fracture the Entity in the first place, sundering it from the portal with their attempt to pass through.’
‘Perhaps we should grant them their wish.’
‘How’s that?’
‘I’m thinking they might benefit from a little offworld travel.’
‘They wouldn’t last a minute on Earth.’
‘You’re probably right.’
Nell smiled. ‘Interesting thought,’ she said, but she didn’t elaborate.
‘You’ve been through recently?’ he asked after they crested a hill.
‘Fairly.’
‘What’s left?’
‘You really want to know?’
He nodded.
‘Take a world utterly dependent on technology for survival and without warning, pull the plug. Then picture it rotting from the inside out as attempts to bolster the remaining life forms backfire, turning the seas and valleys and forests into cesspools. I must say, the bacteria and insects are thriving, along with many new strains of virulent microbes