“I saw her teeth,” said Susan, with a shudder.
Vivien handed the scabbard to Susan, who gratefully sheathed the sword. When the blade was bare she was always uncomfortably aware of its presence and sharpness, as if it wanted to cut someone.
“Do you remember any details about the Fenris?” asked Vivien. “I might be able to identify her. Did she have distinct silver hairs in her snout, or—”
“Morcenna greeted her as the Fenris of somewhere that sounded like One-under Mere.”
Merlin raised an eyebrow and looked expectantly at Vivien.
“Onundar Myrr,” said Vivien. “Lake Windermere.”
“Does that help?” asked Susan.
“It will, I’m sure,” said Vivien, frowning. “But I’ll need to check the references. I don’t recall the Fenris of Lake Windermere being associated with any particular Old One . . . we need to call in, Merlin. Ask Thurston and the New Bookshop team—”
“I’m still not sure that’s a good idea,” interrupted Merlin. “But we certainly have to get out of here, anyway.”
He pointed at a distant speck in the sky, or what was a distant speck to Susan at least. It took her a few seconds as it drew somewhat closer to recognize it must be a helicopter.
“Police helicopter,” said Merlin. “Following the A50. Hopefully not looking for our new car yet.”
“What time is it?” asked Susan, lifting her wrist to set her watch. It was going again, but clearly wrong. “I got kind of confused in the wood, and the sun looks much higher than it did. . . .”
“It’s ten to twelve,” said Vivien, not bothering to consult any timepiece. Susan accepted this as another right-handed skill, and set her watch. “I’m glad you worked out how to get out of the wood; we’ve been wandering the fringes for the last two hours trying to find a way in. Not having the appropriate reference with us to tell us how to placate or pressure the entity concerned.”
“I asked the wood to let me out,” said Susan. She ignored the swift glance between Vivien and Merlin. “Um, why do we need to get away from a police helicopter?”
“Merlin had to shoot a policeman,” said Vivien. “Well, two police officers. But one was killed.”
“What!”
“I didn’t mean to kill him,” said Merlin wretchedly. “But once shots are fired . . . anyway, they fired first. They were under a compulsion. Like those thugs who tried to abduct you, and the ones who killed Mum. Someone . . . something . . . messed with their minds.”
“It’s going to take time to sort that out, and we haven’t been able to call in to the Greats to get that done,” said Vivien. “In the meantime, the Leicestershire Constabulary and I guess every other force in the country will be looking for the two people who killed a cop on the M1.”
“Oh,” said Susan, and then, “Oh! If it’s really ten to twelve, Morcenna said the Fenris would get wherever it’s going within a few hours. The wolf will have told whoever was expecting me exactly where I was.”
“So two reasons to move,” said Merlin, visibly pulling himself together. “You haven’t got a book on you, by any chance, have you, Susan?”
“No,” said Susan.
“Pity.”
“There’s no time to read, Merlin,” said Vivien gently.
“I know, I know,” replied Merlin. “I thought a few pages, as we walked . . . it’ll have to wait. I should have put some books in with my clothes. I wasn’t thinking. Come on, let’s go.”
“Where are we going?” Susan asked Vivien, as Merlin typically zoomed ahead. “Why does Merlin want a book?”
“He killed someone,” said Vivien. “And he’s understandably very upset about it. The left-handed have great capability for violence, and they need to . . . counterweight it, I suppose . . . with quiet reading, or writing poems. He’ll be okay.”
“And where are we going?” prompted Susan.
“That’s a tricky question,” said Vivien. “Away from here, for now.”
“Yes, let’s get some distance,” said Merlin. He’d found the bridle path and stopped to let them catch up, and was now looking up at the sky. “If we can. Damn!”
The helicopter was flying back along the A50, west to east, heading away. But a few miles away to the north, a murmuration of starlings was rising from a distant field, thousands of the small birds moving together to form a dark cloud uncannily like an enormous hand, its fingers groping over the land below. The birds were erratically moving towards the center of the wood, in a series of turns and drifts upwards and downwards.
“Is that natural?” asked Susan.
“It could be,” replied Merlin. “But I bet it isn’t.”
“Definitely an Old One’s work,” said Vivien. “And a Cauldron-Keeper to boot. Crossing too many mythic boundaries for it to be anyone else.”
She stared in fascination at the moving cloud of birds. “I’ve never seen a murmuration before, whether perfectly natural or not. It’s rather beautiful. Or would be if it wasn’t looking for us.”
“They’ll be overhead in less than ten minutes,” said Merlin. “Come on!”
They’d left the Capri in a lay-by on Old Forest Way where the bridle path started, but as they got closer, Merlin stopped and held up his hand. Vivien and Susan moved up next to him and crouched down. They were still in the fringe of the forest, but Susan caught a glimpse of a silver car through the trees.
“What is it?” whispered Vivien.
“Helicopter’s coming back our way,” said Merlin. “Wait for it to pass over.”
Susan could hear the whop-whop-whop of the helicopter, but couldn’t tell whether it was getting closer until all of a sudden the sound grew much louder and a few seconds later it flew overhead, quite low.
“If it keeps going, we’re okay,” muttered Merlin to Susan. “If not, the car we took is already reported stolen and they’ll have linked it to the cab.”
“The cab?”
“We borrowed Audrey’s to chase after you,” said Vivien.
The helicopter noise faded away. Merlin craned his neck, surveying what he could of the sky between the treetops.
“It’s turned west again,” he said. “Come on.”
He started off again, moving fast. This time, Susan and Vivien pushed themselves to keep up with him. Merlin unlocked the car
