Grabbing onto the sides for dear life, Iwa prayed that the thing would stop swaying before she threw up. In the distance the drumbeat faded. Cautiously, she tried again, being careful not to dip the blade too far into the water and almost jumping at the ripple of sound as the wood hit the stagnant surface of the lake; but there was no answering sound, not the slightest movement on either shore, only the rustle of reeds.
Now that she was further out, things became easier and she no longer cared about keeping quiet, but it was hard to keep a steady course and she found that she had steered the boat in a wide semi-circle and then wasted more time in a futile attempt to correct her mistake.
She paused: the music had stopped. Slowly she lifted her head, her ears filled with the sound of her beating heart. Tendrils of mist swelled up from the water – was it Bethrayal coming across the lake? She ducked inside the boat and when she next looked up she was still alone. Behind her the island lay like a dark blue cloud across the water.
Slowly she began to row, painfully aware of the sound of the oars as they rolled across the water. After some practice she managed to build up a steady rhythm and soon she was almost at the far bank. Let’s hope this is the only boat, she thought as the hull jarred against the shore. Or that Miskyia can’t walk across water.
It was so good to have her feet on dry land once again. At least here she knew what she was doing. Yet she couldn’t help but cast her eyes to the lake and the reeds stagnant on the far shore. Still she had the feeling that she was being watched.
Without bothering to tie the boat she ran into the forest. It felt so good to be free and getting further away from magic. Not even the fact that she was lost worried her. I’ve found my way before: how difficult can it be? Pushing through a thicket, she paused, her breath misted in the night. Now that the exhilaration of her escape had worn away, old fears began to emerge; stories of ghosts and goblins and trees that would lay traps for the unwary. The paths change, Miskyia’s words came back to her, and just because you set foot on a well-known trail does not mean that it will take you where you expect.
I should have waited. She cursed as she stabbed a loose rock with her foot. If only I’d promised to steal the amulet: Miskyia might have let me go and then I could have run off into the cave. Of course that was if the woman had believed her.
Cautiously she forced her way onto what appeared to be the semblance of a track. She’d no idea where she was or in which direction she was going, and there was the awful feeling that she was being followed. Maybe Sturmovit had come after her. She didn’t think that the creature could keep up with her, not here in the open forest, and there hadn’t been any sign of another boat or craft. Let him skulk on his pile of rubble and rot for all I care.
So long as she was free from this Bethrayal, not even the thought that Miskyia might follow scared her. Shaking her head, she tried not to think about the dead woyaks. Nothing compared to that vision.
Cautiously she began to walk, glancing hastily over her shoulder. Even the trail behind her seemed to change: sometimes she’d look to find it had vanished or else that it veered off in a completely different direction.
‘What have I done?’ she murmured. If only Katchka hadn’t forced me to pick mushrooms. Only an idiot would come up with a plan like that: this is all her fault.
Chapter Thirteen
Iwa sank against the roots of some great tree. At her feet the bark twisted to form a leaf-lined hollow; how tempting it was just to curl up there and sleep, but that was to invite death. She had to get away, back to Yaroslav. Everything has failed, the hunters have deserted us. I have failed as well. There is nothing more I can do. But the thought of him lying all alone in that great cave was too much to bear. I wonder what lies Jarel and the others have told him. That was what hurt the most, above and beyond even the betrayal.
But which way to go? By now the moon had disappeared behind the clouds so she couldn’t even see properly as she stumbled over root and briar. And all the while the suspicion that she had been missed clawed in the back of her mind. What if Miskyia was looking for her even now? Iwa could almost sense her spells cast over the forest, calling for her. And, in her desperation, she tried to answer but didn’t know how. This was foolhardy, she was lost and alone and the sorceress had been right. I never should have left, and now a miserable death in the forest is all there is. Staying would have been better, so long as she didn’t encounter Bethrayal.
But that was past. She had to find shelter, and soon, before the cold of night fell fully upon her and dragged her to the ancestor world.
In the distance an owl hooted. That was a good sign, at least, since she didn’t think that a familiar bird would have been able to come into the hidden places. I must be near the border with the outside world: if only I
