1
Market Day
For ten years the
town of Morvane had been left alone. Its people had lived safely
behind its high walls and watched as other towns around them died
one by one. The country of Albion was at war, but most people had
never seen an enemy come close to their gates. The only threat they
knew came from within their own lands; from the High Council seated
within the distant capital city of Fume and the wardens sent to
harvest towns for anyone strong enough to fight.
There was never any
warning before the wardens came. When soldiers were scarce,
ordinary people were forced to take their place in battle and
anyone who refused the call to fight was put to death. In five
decades of war, Morvane had been harvested twice. Children had
grown up hearing stories of missing parents they would never know,
people had built hiding places and dug secret paths beneath the
ground to escape the wardens, and many buildings stood bare as
people gradually left the town to live in the wilder villages
instead, where harvesting rarely happened.
Kate Winters was five
years old when the wardens last came. That was the day when
everything changed. The day her parents were taken away and she had
first learned what it meant to have an enemy.
Since that day, she
had grown up with her uncle, Artemis Winters, living and working in
his bookshop on the edge of Morvane’s market square. Morvane was
one of the last few great towns in the northern counties, almost
three miles wide from wall to wall and divided into quarters by
four stone arches left behind from an age long before the wardens
and the war. The market square stood in the very heart of the town,
but instead of trading in luxuries and curiosities alongside the
usual market fare, the traders sold only what they could grow,
stitch or build themselves, concentrating on the basic items
Morvane’s people needed to survive.
Books were not one of
Morvane’s main priorities any more, but since Artemis and Kate’s
bookshop was the only one left in the town, there was still enough
trade to justify keeping it open. Every book they had for sale was
at least second-hand and every spine was cracked and worn. They
repaired them whenever they could, taking tattered old books and
selling them for a small profit, and the shop earned just enough
silver to be able to support them comfortably, as well as paying a
small wage to a third member of staff who could repair two books in
the time it took Kate to fix one. The bookshop had been passed down
through the Winters family for generations and Kate hoped that, one
day, it would be hers.
Artemis had taught
Kate to be cautious and alert in case the wardens ever decided to
return to Morvane, and theirs was the only shop on the market
square to keep a dagger hidden beneath the counter and bolts locked
on every window, even during the day. Precautions, Artemis had
said, that could one day save their lives.
The rest of the
townspeople had become complacent, preferring to live with the
pretence of freedom rather than living in fear. They no longer
checked their escape routes as often as they should, or kept horses
bridled by their doors at night. Soon only the two quiet owners of
the dusty old bookshop had been left with their suspicions. Morvane
had begun to relax. The townspeople’s lives went on. And so, on the
day the wardens finally did return, only the Winters were
ready.
Kate woke at sunrise
to a soft tap on her bedroom door. She grumbled at the unwanted
noise and pulled her blanket over her head.
‘Kate, are you
awake?’
‘No.’
‘Breakfast’s
ready.’
‘I’ll be out in a
minute.’
Artemis Winters was a
great believer in early mornings. Kate definitely was not.
Normally, she would have tried to grab a few extra minutes of sleep
before he came to wake her again, but then she remembered what day
it was and forced herself to sit up. Rattling sounds were coming
from the kitchen and the smell of hot porridge crept under her
bedroom door. She slid her feet into her slippers and shuffled over
to the mirror.
It was market day;
the last market day before the Night of Souls, and the bookshop
could expect to see a lot more customers than the handful that
usually came through the door each day. The Night of Souls was
Albion’s biggest celebration, when everyone dressed up and threw
parties in the streets to honour their ancestors and remember the
dead. Crates of fireworks had been arriving in the market square
for weeks, ready to mark the stroke of midnight in four days’ time
when the spirits of the dead were said to walk the streets and
speak to the living. Not that Kate really believed in any of
that.
To most people the
Night of Souls was all about dressing up, planning parties and
exchanging gifts. It was a time for drinking and feasting and
celebrating. Raising a glass to the dead was just one old tradition
hidden amongst the new. Far more important was the gift giving.
Even the quietest shops were at their busiest that time of year,
and the bookshop would have to open early to make the best of
it.
Kate tied her black
hair into a plait and glared at her reflection. Her eyes were wide
and feline, her nose was small and her skin was pale thanks to the
hours she spent in the shop every day. Artemis insisted she looked
like her mother. Kate thought she looked more like a skinny cat.
Her hand went to her throat, where a small pendant hung on a silver
chain: a delicate circle of precious metal holding an oval gemstone
that matched perfectly the vivid blue brightness of her eyes. Her
mother had worn that necklace every day and, apart from the
bookshop, it was all she had left of her.
Kate closed her tired
eyes against the tears that were already starting to gather there.
It had been ten years, but the Night of Souls always made the bad
memories come creeping back. She let them settle in her mind for a
few moments and polished the surface of the stone with her thumb,
making it shine a little brighter than before.
‘Kate?’ Artemis’s
voice carried down the corridor again.
‘I’m
coming.’
‘Get dressed. Quick
as you can.’
Kate turned away from
the mirror, letting the stone fall back against her skin. Then she
dragged on her clothes, fought her boots out of the mess lurking
under her bed and shuffled sleepily down the corridor to the
kitchen, letting her nose lead the way.
‘I’ve heard something
new,’ said Artemis, pouring her a cup of hot milk from a steaming
pan. His brow was tense; an open letter lay upon the table, bearing
a black wax seal that Kate had seen many times before.
She dropped on to her
chair and tried to wake up.
‘As you know, the
wardens haven’t taken anyone from the northern counties for some
time,’ said Artemis. ‘I contacted a few friends in the south and it
turns out things have been just as quiet all over
Albion.’
‘That’s good, isn’t
it?’ asked Kate, resigning herself to yet another early morning
warden conversation.
‘I’m not sure. The
last I heard, Continental soldiers had tried to land boats on the
southern coast and Albion soldiers burned every one of them with
fire arrows before they even reached the shore. The war could be
going well for once. Or the wardens might just have new
orders.’
‘I don’t suppose
they’ll leave people alone for very long,’ said Kate, eating as she
talked. ‘What else did your friends say?’
‘They told us to be
careful,’ said Artemis. ‘Without a pattern to follow, no one knows
where the wardens are likely to go next. Morvane is doing well. We
have more people here than any of the smaller towns nearby. In the
High Council’s eyes we could afford to lose a few hundred to the
war effort. A harvest here could be well overdue.’
‘You think they’re
coming back,’ said Kate, her face serious.
‘I think we need to
be prepared.’ Artemis pushed his bowl aside and stood up. ‘We won’t
be opening the shop today,’ he said. ‘I’ve sent a note to Edgar
telling him not to bother coming into work. Find a bag and pack
whatever you will need for the next few days.’
‘We’re leaving
Morvane?’
‘Just for a
while.’
‘But if the wardens
are coming, we have to warn people. We have to tell them! We can’t
just leave!’
‘Yes, we can,’ said
Artemis. ‘Two of us might pass unnoticed on our way out of the town
gates. Any more than that will certainly be seen and
stopped.’
‘What about Edgar? He
can come with us. One more won’t—’
‘No,’ said Artemis.
‘Not even him. We can’t take that risk. You’ll just have to trust
me, Kate. We’re leaving today.’
Kate had never seen
Artemis as worried as he was that morning. She packed a small bag
as quickly as she could and dragged it downstairs to wait for him
on the bookshop floor. She looked out of the front window and
across the market square. The sun had started to rise over
Morvane’s frosty streets and the market traders had already set up
their stalls on the cobbles, welcoming their first customers with
red cheeks, hugging themselves against the cold. Two would-be book
buyers tested the bookshop’s door and Kate hid behind a curtain,
not wanting to explain why she couldn’t let them in.
‘Good idea,’ said
Artemis, lugging his travelling bag down the stairs. ‘The last
thing we need is customers trying to fight their way in. We’ll make
our way out of town on foot and follow one of the old roads out to
the west. No one will know us there. We’ll walk to the next town,
find a good place to stay and after a few days … Well … We’ll be
back before you know it.’
‘This is the best
trading day of the year,’ said Kate, who had never known her uncle
take a day off work, never mind actually close up the shop. ‘Why do
we have to go today?’
Artemis pulled on his
coat and gloves and slid the dagger from its hiding place beneath
the desk. ‘There are far more important things in this world than
money,’ he said.
Thud.
Kate
turned.
Something had just
struck the window.
‘What was that?’ Kate
asked.
‘Whatever it was,
it’s not important,’ said Artemis. ‘We have to go.’
Kate picked up her
bag while he unlocked the door and when they stepped out into the
icy square she almost stood on something small and black laid upon
the cobbles.
‘It’s a bird,’ she
said, picking up the limp body and cupping it in her hands. ‘It
must have flown into the window.’
Artemis’s eyes went
immediately to the sky.
‘I thought blackbirds
didn’t nest here in Albion any more,’ said Kate. ‘I’ve never seen
one in town before.’
‘Kate. Get
inside.’
‘What?
Why?’
Before Artemis could
answer, a second bird speared down past his head and struck the
shop door with a sharp crack. And it was not alone.
Kate looked up and
saw a huge flock of blackbirds swooping over the square. Hundreds
of them, screeching to one another and thumping down at the
buildings two or three at a time. People ran for cover, huddling
together in doorways as the flock shifted and dived. Artemis
grabbed Kate’s arm and pulled her back into the shop.
‘We’re too late,’ he
said.
Thud-thud.
‘What’s
happening?’
‘It’s a hording! Get
in! Don’t let them into the shop.’
‘What’s a—?
Ahh! ’ Kate ducked away from a
blackbird that speared down at the door on a collision course, its
bright eyes wild and unnatural. Artemis swung the door shut,
ignoring Kate’s shriek of horror as a flurry of black feathers
bounced off the glass and flopped lifeless to the ground. He
dragged the bolt across and pulled her away from the
window.
‘Go down into the
cellar,’ he said, throwing their bags into the darkness at the back
of the shop. ‘Stay there and hide. It’ll be all
right.’
Thud-thud.
‘What are you going
to do?’
‘I—I don’t know. Just
stay down there.’
Bang-bang-bang.
A fist pounded on the
front door and Artemis jumped.
‘Everyone all right
in there?’ A young man was outside, braving the mad birds with his
nose pressed to the glass.
‘Edgar!’ Kate yelled.
‘Edgar’s out there!’
Edgar waved at her
through the door. ‘Bloody birds!’ he shouted, his voice muffled by
the glass.
‘We have to let him
in!’
‘No. Get down to the
cellar. Please, Kate!’
‘We can’t just leave
him out there!’
Edgar squealed as one
of the birds flapped down on to his head, tangling its claws in his
mess of dark hair. He reached up and grabbed it, tugging it loose
and pinning its wings to its sides so it couldn’t get away. ‘Steady
there!’ he said, trying to calm it down.
The bird pecked at
its reflection in the glass and freed one of its wings, fluttering
hard. Edgar’s boots slid on an icy cobblestone and he fell on to
his back, keeping tight hold of the bird until its other wing
flapped loose, smacking him full in the face.
Kate wasn’t about to
stand and watch her best friend wrestling on the ground. She
dropped the dead blackbird into her coat pocket and pushed past her
uncle, ignoring his shouts as she threw back the bolt and swung
open the door. ‘Edgar, come on!’
‘Look out!’ cried
Artemis.
The bird flapped hard
and Edgar let go, sending it fluttering up past Kate’s face to join
the others in the air. Kate helped Edgar up and pulled him into the
shop.
‘Now that’s something
you don’t see every day,’ he said, holding out his arms as if his
coat sleeves might bite. A sticky green residue had stained one of
the cuffs. ‘I rubbed that off its beak,’ he said. ‘Bloodbane. Very
poisonous. If I was a bird, I wouldn’t want to eat any of that.’ He
sniffed it experimentally. ‘And it’s fresh.’
‘The wardens are
responsible for this,’ said Artemis. ‘Both of you, get down into
the cellar.’
‘Are you nuts?’ said
Edgar, taking off his coat and kicking it across the floor. ‘If
there are wardens about we have to run. Hiding won’t do us any
good.’
‘Did you see any of
them out there?’ asked Kate.
‘No, but they’re not
exactly going to walk up and spark up a conversation, are they?
Hey! What are you doing?’
Artemis had grabbed
hold of Edgar’s arm and was marching him and Kate over to the
cellar door. The three of them squeezed on to the cellar steps and
Artemis locked them in. A flame flickered in the darkness as he lit
a match from his pocket and fed it to an oil lamp that swelled with
light, revealing an underground room packed with shelves, books and
dozens of storage boxes.
‘Down to the bottom,’
he said.
Kate and Edgar
followed him down into the middle of the cellar and stood there
listening to thud after thud as the birds slammed into the windows
above.
‘Those birds are here
as a test,’ he said, in as loud a whisper as he could manage. ‘We
can’t let them in. We can’t even look at them. Do you
understand?’
‘A test for what?’
asked Kate.
‘You wanted to know
what else my friends told me? They told me about this. This exact
same thing has happened many times in the south over the last few
years. Hordings were witnessed in six towns in just six days right
before the wardens went quiet. It seems the High Council aren’t
happy collecting just anyone any more. They want a specific kind of
person. I think they’re looking for the Skilled.’ Artemis was
trying his best to put on a brave face but his hands were shaking
and his fear was infectious.
Kate gently lifted
the blackbird’s body out of her pocket. She only knew a little
about the Skilled, from rumours mostly. They were people with
abilities that most ordinary people did not possess. No one knew
exactly what they could do, but most of them were healers, or seers
who believed they could see into the future or communicate with the
dead. Many of them lived in hiding and, by the time anyone realised
they had met one of the Skilled, they would already be gone, never
to be heard from again.
‘Those birds will
have been bred for this,’ said Artemis. ‘The wardens have used the
same technique for years. Whenever they want to find the Skilled,
they poison hundreds of blackbirds and set them loose. The birds
die, the wardens make their move, and when a Skilled eventually
comes into contact with one, the bird is healed. No one knows how.
All the wardens have to do is find one of their birds alive and
hunt close by for the person who healed it. Most of the Skilled are
wise to the trap, but there are always some who don’t yet know that
they have the ability. Those are the ones in real
danger.’
Kate felt a small
stirring in her hands. Had she imagined it? Had the bird
moved?
‘If there are wardens
here, there will be very little left of this town by nightfall,’
said Artemis. ‘The hording is only the beginning. I’m sorry, Kate.
I should have taken you away from here sooner.’
Kate looked down at
her hands. The bird’s leg had definitely twitched. ‘I think we have
a bigger problem than that,’ she said, staring in disbelief as the
dead blackbird suddenly blinked, fluttered one wing and struggled
drunkenly to its feet. Once up, it teetered a little and then
flapped into the air to land expertly on one of the
shelves.
‘That bird …’ said
Edgar. ‘It was just stunned, right?’
‘No, it wasn’t,’ said
Artemis. ‘Its neck was broken.’
‘It couldn’t have
been. How could it fly up there with a broken neck?’
Artemis’s lamp was
shaking now. ‘Kate,’ he said. ‘You’re the right age. And they say
when it happens, it happens suddenly. Often under
stress.’
‘No,’ said Kate,
staring at her hands as if they were no longer a part of her. ‘It …
it couldn’t have been me.’
‘Did Kate do
something to that bird?’ Edgar looked around stupidly, as if
everyone had gone crazy except him. ‘It looks pretty perky to
me.’
Artemis lowered the
lamp, making his eye sockets look deep and dark in the shadows.
‘This changes everything,’ he said. ‘I think … I think she just
brought it back to life.’