standing stock still, looking out through the opening in the hedge where the path led down into the apple orchard. “What's wrong?”
Corbin backed way to Brand's side. He pointed into the white encrusted trees. “There,” he hissed. “Beyond the fourth row. I saw something moving about.”
They crouched down like hunters, Corbin pointing. To both their ears then came the sweet music of distant pipes. Corbin looked into Brand's eyes, their faces close together, the white plumes of their breath fogging the space between them. Brand knew the truth before his friend spoke.
“It was your shadow man, Brand. I'm sure of it. I feel his spell now, calling us to come and dance.”
The two of them rose up and ran into the house. Behind them the two tin pails spilled their water onto the snow, melting dark patches in the smooth expanse of white.
Brand, always fleeter of foot, won the race to the door and burst through it. “Jak!” he shouted to his brother. “Get your crossbow!”
Jak, who had been sitting on his favorite chair with his feet hanging over the arms, jumped up in alarm. He spilled the tea that he had been sipping. Modi surprised everyone by producing his battleaxe, which he had placed out of sight behind his chair. He leapt up and charged to the door as if an army was on the island. Brushing Brand and Corbin aside, he pushed shut the door and barred it, putting his broad back against it. Only then did he turn to the boys.
“What did you see?” he demanded, his bass voice ringing with command. He gripped his battleaxe in both hands, at the ready.
“The shadow man,” said Brand, pointing toward the orchard and the dock beyond. “Corbin saw the shadow man who has been following us for some time.”
Modi's eyes narrowed. He went to the shuttered window nearest him and released the latch, peeking outside. White light illuminated his weathered face and hard eyes. “Just one man?”
“Yes, but he is very mysterious,” replied Brand.
“Are you sure it is the same one?” Jak asked them.
Corbin shrugged. “I don't know. This time we heard the music of pipes.”
“Perhaps we should go out and thrash him,” suggested Jak, rolling up his sleeves and donning his cloak and boots.
Corbin shook his head. “He is not a normal man. It was like Brand said, I–I felt a cold dread come over me. Even to look at him was difficult. Perhaps he is one of the Faerie. One of the Dark Ones.”
Modi slammed the shutters and latched them. They all jumped at the noise. “I see nothing. Faerie, you say?” he said, snorting. “What do River Folk know of Dark Ones?”
Before any could answer him, Gudrin and Telyn came into the room. “I'm sorry, but I seem to have slept late,” said Gudrin. Brand was a bit amused to note that although she wore a nightshirt, she still had her package under her arm and her rucksack on her back. Gudrin looked at Modi and sighed. “I see your weapon is ready again, Modi of the warriors. What is all the commotion about?”
Brand quickly explained about the shadow man while Jak finished dressing and went upstairs to get his crossbow. While Brand was describing the shadow man, Gudrin became increasingly concerned.
“And the length of the weapon you saw the first time…”
“I couldn't be sure it was a weapon,” interrupted Brand.
“Yes, yes, but if it was, would you say it was the length of a dagger or a sword?”
Brand pondered for a moment. “In between, perhaps.”
Gudrin nodded, kneading her chin. She held her package to her chest, as if it gave her comfort of some kind. Brand watched her and noticed that her rucksack gave a tiny twitch again, as it had last night, a small movement. Brand blinked and frowned. He surmised that Gudrin must have some kind of odd tick in the muscles of her back. Perhaps it only showed up when she was thinking, the way old man Tad Silure's cheek would twitch when he spoke before the Riverton council.
“We must investigate this, Modi,” Gudrin said to her companion.
Modi shrugged his massive shoulders. “It is but one man.”
“They describe not a man, but one of the shirik,” said Gudrin.
At this, Modi came alive. He strode forward to Gudrin's side. They spoke briefly in their own tongue, which, to the ears of the River Folk, sounded both crude and subtle. It was a language of many hard sounds and careful inflections. Each word seemed clear and clipped; none ran into the next as words tended to do in their own tongue. Only Telyn seemed to enjoy the sound of it.
“There was one other thing,” said Corbin. “We heard the sweet music of pipes after the phantom had disappeared.”
Gudrin and Modi exchanged glances. “Man-sized? Bearing a long knife and playing sweet pipes? It can only be Voynod,” said Modi.
Gudrin nodded, but gestured Modi to silence. “It is best not to name them so casually when one is near,” she said.
Telyn had followed Jak and his crossbow to the door, both now fully dressed for the cold. In her hand she held a long thin dagger. Brand frowned at the look of it.
“Wait,” said Gudrin. She raised up a thick-fingered hand. “You must not confront the shirik now. It is weak so far from home, I'm sure, but not so weak as to fall to an honest crossbow bolt or dagger.”
“I didn't want to kill the man,” said Jak, a bit taken aback. “I just wanted to warn him off.”
Gudrin nodded. “It is not a man. It is a shirik — a shade, as you would call it in your tongue. A powerful servant of the Enemy. This one you saw, that Modi has already unwisely named, is the Enemy's bard.”
“The Enemy? Do you mean Herla?” asked Brand.
Gudrin raised her hands to her face and made shushing motions. “Shhh! Don't speak his name aloud with one of his servants near!”
All the River Folk stared at her with mouths open. Brand had heard stories of bogies such as the dreaded shades, free agents of Herla and his Wild Hunt, but the idea that there was one of them stalking about outside was just too much.
“Well, that's it,” Jak said, throwing up his hands. “That's just grand.”
“How do you know?” Brand asked Gudrin, ignoring his brother's outburst.
“I can feel it. Now that I know it is here, its presence is clear to me,” she turned then and leveled an accusatory finger at Telyn. “I believe it was some of your doing that it is here this morning. I warned you about the beacon, but still you saw fit to burn it. There are many things, even here in the Haven, that should not be disturbed by a call from one without the wisdom to deal with them.”
Telyn hung her head, but by the set of her jaw and the way she toyed with her dagger, Brand suspected she was not cowed. Gudrin looked at her and sighed. “Still,” she said, “it wouldn't be fair to blame you entirely, as the thing has been following these boys of Clan Rabing for some time now, even without your aid in marking them.”
“What shall we do?” asked Jak, his voice sounding weak and betraying that he was at a loss as to how to protect his home and his guests.
“We will have breakfast,” said Gudrin simply. The only one who smiled at this idea was Corbin.
Posting Modi as a lookout at the front window, they ate around the fire and made plans. While eating, they all felt the presence of something outside, something that wished them ill. Occasionally, they thought to hear the soft playing of sweet pipes, but they were never sure, as it might have been only the wind whistling around the eaves of the old house. The music, if music it was, brought them no joy. There was no laughter in the house, and somehow the food tasted less appetizing, despite Corbin's excellent cooking. They plied Gudrin with questions, most of which she answered vaguely. Some, she refused to answer entirely. Telyn was the most persistent questioner.
“But madam, you must tell us about Herr-ah, that is, about the Enemy. He is just one of the Faerie, is he not?”
“Yes, and no,” said Gudrin. She swallowed another two strips of bacon, seemingly whole, before continuing. “The Enemy is one we must not speak of just now. Not if that is one of his servants outside.”
She paused for a moment to glance to the closed shutters, her eyes seeming to focus on the snowy scene outside and whatever might lurk there. A tinkling sound came to them all then, a soft half-melody, felt as much as heard. Frowning, Gudrin turned back to the group. She leaned forward and lowered her voice. The others all leaned
