“We can’t turn around now,” Louise insisted, her voice high and strained. “We’re so close. We’ll never have another chance.”
Carmitha wanted to add that there might not even be a pilot at the aerodrome; come to that she hadn’t actually seen the distinctive shape of the aeroambulance itself yet. Could be in a hangar. But with the way their luck was turning out right now . . .
Both the sisters were obviously near the end of their tether. They looked dreadful, filthy and tired, close to breaking down in tears—for all Louise’s outward determination.
Carmitha was surprised to realize just how much she had begun to respect the elder girl.
“You can’t go back, no,” Carmitha said. “But I can. If I take the caravan back to the woods the possessed will think we’re all running away from Titreano here.”
“No!” Louise said in shock. “We’re together now. We’ve only got each other. There’s only us left in the whole world.”
“We are not all that’s left. Don’t ever think that. Outside Kesteven, people are going about their lives just like before. And once you get to Norwich, they’ll be warned.”
“No,” Louise mumbled. But there was less conviction now.
“You know you have to go,” Carmitha continued. “But me. Hell, I’ll be a lot better off by myself. With my lore I can lose myself in the forests; the possessed will never find me. I can’t do that with you three tagging along. You know us Romanies belong with the land, girl.”
The corners of Louise’s mouth turned down.
“Don’t you?” Carmitha said sternly. She knew she was still being selfish; just plain didn’t want to admit she couldn’t stand seeing their delicate hopes burnt to cinders when they reached the aerodrome.
“Yes,” Louise said docilely.
“Good girl. Okay, this section of road is wide enough to turn the caravan around. You three had better get down.”
“Are you sure of this, lady?” Titreano asked.
“Absolutely. But I’m holding you to your promise of guarding these two.”
He nodded sincerely and dropped down over the side.
“Genevieve?”
The little girl glanced up shyly, her lower lip pressed against her teeth.
“I know we didn’t get on too well, and I’m sorry we didn’t. But I want you to have this.” Carmitha reached behind her neck and unfastened the pendant’s chain. The silver bulb which glinted in the pink light was made from a fine mesh, much dinted now; but through the grid a filigree of thin brown twigs was just visible. “It used to be my grandma’s; she gave it to me when I was about your age. It’s a charm to ward off evil spirits. That’s lucky heather inside, see? Genuine heather; it grew on Earth in the time before the armada storms. There’s real earth magic stored in there.”
Genevieve held the bauble up in front of her face, studying it intently. A fast smile lit up her delicate features, and she lunged forward to hug Carmitha. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for everything.” She climbed down into Titreano’s arms.
Carmitha gave an edgy smile to Louise. “Sorry it turned out the way it did, girl.”
“That’s all right.”
“Hardly. Don’t lose faith in your father because of what I said.”
“I won’t. I love Daddy.”
“Yes, I expect you do. That’s good, something to hold on to. You are going to be facing a few more dark days yet, you know.”
Louise started tugging at a ring on her left hand. “Here. It’s not much. Not lucky, or anything special. But it is gold, and that’s a real diamond. If you need to buy anything, it’ll help.”
Carmitha eyed the ring in surprise. “Right. Next time I need a mansion I’ll remember.”
They both grinned sheepishly.
“Take care, Carmitha. I want to see you when I come back, when all this is over.” Louise twisted around, preparing to climb down.
“Louise.”
There was such disquiet in the voice that Louise froze.
“There’s something wrong about Titreano,” Carmitha said quietly. “I don’t know if I’m just being paranoid, but you ought to know before you go any further with him.”
A minute later Louise clambered gingerly down the side of the caravan, keeping hold of the pump-action shotgun, the cartridge belt an uncomfortable weight around her hips. When she was on the dirt track she waved up at Carmitha. The Romany waved back and flicked the cob’s reins.
Louise, Genevieve, and Titreano watched the caravan turn around and head back up the rucked road.
“Are you all right, Lady Louise?” Titreano asked courteously.
Her fingers tightened around the shotgun. Then she took a breath and smiled at him. “I think so.”
They struck out for the aerodrome, scrambling through ditches and over hedges. The fields were mostly ploughed, ready for the second cereal crop, difficult to walk on. Dust puffed up from each footfall.
Louise glanced over at Genevieve, who was wearing Carmitha’s pendant outside her torn and dusty blouse, one hand grasping the silver bulb tightly. “Not long now,” she said.
“I know,” Genevieve replied pertly. “Louise, will they have something to eat on the aeroambulance?”
“I expect so.”
“Good! I’m starving.” She trudged on for another few paces, then cocked her head to one side. “Titreano, you’re not dirty at all,” she exclaimed in a vexed tone.
Louise looked over. It was true; not a scrap of dirt or dust had adhered to his blue jacket.
He glanced down at himself, rubbing his hands along the seams of his trousers in a nervous gesture. “I’m sorry, little one, it must be the fabric. Although I do confess, I don’t remember being immune to such depredations before. Perhaps I should bow to the inevitable.”
Louise watched in some consternation as mud stains crept up from his ankles, discolouring his trousers below the knee. “You mean you can change your appearance whenever you want?” she asked.
“It would seem so, Lady Louise.”
“Oh.”
Genevieve giggled. “You mean you want to look all silly like that?”
“I find it . . . comfortable, little one. Yes.”
“If you can change that easily, I think you ought to adopt something which will blend in a bit better,” Louise said. “I mean, Gen and I look like a pair of tramps. And then there’s you in all your strange finery. What would you think of us if you were one of the aeroambulance crew?”
“Finely argued, lady.”
For the next five minutes as they crossed the fields Titreano went through a series of alterations. Genevieve and Louise kept up a stream of suggestions, arguing hotly, and explaining textures and styles to their mildly befuddled companion. When they finished he was dressed in the fashion of a young estate manager, with fawn cord trousers, calf-length boots, a tweed jacket, check shirt, and grey cap.
“Just right,” Louise declared.
“I thank you, lady.” He doffed his cap and bowed low.
Genevieve clapped delightedly.
Louise stopped at another of the interminable walls and found a gap in the stone to shove her boot toe in. Straddling the top of the wall she could see the aerodrome’s perimeter fence two hundred yards away. “Almost there,” she told the others cheerfully.
The Bytham aerodrome appeared to be deserted. Both hangars were closed up; nobody was in the control tower. Away on the other side of the mown field the row of seven cottages used by station personnel were silent and dark.
The only sound was the persistent clang of the church bell in the village. It hadn’t stopped ringing the whole time they had walked across the fields.
Louise peered around the side of the first hangar, clutching at the shotgun. Nothing moved. A couple of
