Thornwyn Mossbrook's Arc

Chapter 9 of 38

Morning came gray. Thornwyn stood at the window and watched the shed door. Smoke rose thin from the tin pipe. The elf was awake. The girl slept still under the wool by the hearth, the carved horse tucked under her chin. Thornwyn had not slept. She did not know who had locked the man in a cell for a year. She did not know if those people were done with him. If they had followed his trail, they were already close. She had six days left of the week she promised the girl. She meant to spend one of them finding out what she had let inside her ward. She pulled on her cloak and took her staff. The piebald deer waited at the door, patchwork coat bright against the frost, long tail brushing the boards. Thornwyn set a hand on its neck. "Track him back," she said. "Where he came from. Who walked with him." She crossed the yard. The elf was splitting wood by the shed, sleeves pushed up. Old scars ringed both wrists. She had not seen them before. "Who put you in the cell," she said. He set the axe down. "Men who wanted what I would not give." "Names." He told her three. She did not know them. He said they were sellswords, paid by a lord two valleys east. He said the lord thought elven children could be sold south. He said he had refused to say where his daughter was and they had kept him for it. "Do they know you're out." "They know." "Did you cover your trail." "For eight days. Then I stopped. I was tired." Thornwyn's jaw closed. She whistled once. The deer came to her side. She knelt and held the elf's sleeve to its nose, then pointed east. It went at a trot along the ward line and out through the trees. She waited until midday on the stump the deer liked. The crow came and went. The girl watched from the window with the horse pressed to the glass. The deer returned at noon, flanks damp, no blood on it. It stopped in front of her and lowered its head. No fresh scent on the east road. No boots. No horses. Only the elf's own week-old trail, cold. Thornwyn breathed out. She had bought time, not safety. She walked to the shed. "No one followed you here yet," she said. "But they will. I need names of every place you slept. I need them tonight. Tomorrow I ride east and I lay a false trail that ends far from this door." He nodded. He picked up the axe again. She went back to the cottage and bolted the door. The girl looked up. Thornwyn crouched and took her hand. "We have a week," she said. "I mean to keep it."