The Shadow's heir

trade with. Nobody to tell her if she was going in the right direction.

Under the circumstances, she did the only thing she could: She kept doggedly following the road, hoping to find someone or something that could help her.

Eventually, with her food running low, she came across what looked like abandoned farmland. Crops were growing wild, and she spent some time picking whatever looked edible before she moved on.

Finally, after nearly a solid week of walking, she came across her first village.

She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting a Northern village to look like, but now she saw one, she felt vaguely disappointed to discover it was barely any different from any farming community in the South.

But the people were different.

Laela walked through the main street, heart pounding, waiting for someone to single her out.

Nobody did. She garnered a few curious stares, but nobody shouted at her, nobody came up to accost her. There were no jeers or insults.

Laela felt all her anxiety drain away. Thank Gryphus, she had been right. She could blend in with these people.

Her confidence soaring, she approached a farmer busy unloading a cart.

“What d’ye want?” he asked-impatient but not hostile.

“I’m tryin’ t’get to Malvern,” she said, careful not to look him in the eye. “Could yeh give me directions?”

The farmer looked curiously at her. “I ain’t heard an accent like that before-where’re ye from?”

“Nowhere yeh’d know,” said Laela. “But I want t’get to Malvern. Just tell me if I’m goin’ the right way.”

“Well, the main road leadin’ out of here goes straight there,” said the farmer. “Just keep followin’ it an’ ye’ll be at Malvern’s gates in the end.”

“How far is it?” said Laela. “I’m on foot.”

“On foot!” the farmer repeated. “Ye gods. Ye’ll be lucky to make it there in two months, girl.”

Her heart sank. “D’yeh know how I could get there faster, then?”

The farmer scratched his nose. “If ye see anyone goin’ in that direction, ye could try an’ hitch a lift, or ye could buy a horse if ye had the money. . it’s playin’ with fire, takin’ horses into Malvern, mind.”

“Why?” said Laela.

“The place is swarmin’ with griffins, ain’t it?” said the farmer. “An’ we all know how much they like horses.”

Laela hadn’t heard of this. “Er. .”

“Griffins hate horses,” the farmer told her. “Mostly they kill the things on sight. Ye know, I heard this old story once how there was unicorns in Cymria once, but the griffins wiped ’em out.”

“Oh,” said Laela. “I never knew that. Can’t ride, anyway.”

“Well, I’ll tell ye what,” said the farmer. “Tomorrow I’m headin’ off on a jaunt northward meself. I might be willin’ to give ye a ride on the cart if ye can pay.”

“I can,” Laela said promptly. “An’ I’ll pay yeh extra t’let me sleep in yer barn.”

“How much?” said the farmer.

“Ten oblong for the ride, an’ ten more for the barn,” she said.

“Done,” said the farmer. “My name’s Mawrth, by the way.”

“Laela,” she said.

She handed over the money-keeping ten oblong back in case he decided to change his mind the next day.

“Thankye kindly,” said Mawrth. “I’ll give ye some food, too.”

Laela smiled. “Thanks.”

“Well, it ain’t every day I meet a lady as attractive as yerself,” said Mawrth. “No need t’look so surprised-I mean it! Ye don’t need t’be so shy, girl.”

Laela, keeping her eyes on the ground, blushed. “Thanks,” she mumbled. “Can yeh show me where the barn is?”

Her new friend obliged, and she settled down into the straw very gratefully. It was good to have something close to a proper bed again.

She slept, and dreamt of her father. He was trying to tell her something, but there was a scream in the air that made his voice impossible to hear.

Mawrth was as good as his word. The next day, his cart rattled out of the village, and Laela found herself riding on the driver’s seat rather than on the back, which was piled high with cabbages, while her host, apparently oblivious to her nervousness, made cheerful conversation.

“. . an’ they say that in Malvern, the King himself comes t’celebrate the Wolf Moon every month. I heard once the priests tried t’conduct a funeral for a friend of his without tellin’ him, an’ he showed up halfway through, punched the High Priestess in the face, an’ then finished the rites himself.”

Laela wanted to look him in the face, but forced herself not to. “Have yeh ever seen the King?”

“Once,” said Mawrth. “Not up close, mind. I was there when he announced that he was lettin’ traders come in from Amoran.”

“What was it like?” said Laela. “What was he like?”

Mawrth paused to wipe his nose on the back of his sleeve. “He looked ordinary, mostly. Young, but old. Wore a black robe, like a slave would. It’s said he never wears anythin’ else. An’ he had the Mighty Skandar with him, of course.”

“The Mighty. . you mean the griffin?”

“Aye. The dark griffin. ‘Darkheart,’ some call him. By the moon, but that was a sight t’scare any man. I’ve seen griffins. Not up close, but I’ve seen ’em. But the Mighty Skandar is the biggest I ever saw in my life. They say he’s killed more people than any griffin in the world, an’ that his magic is so powerful, it could kill a whole army in one go. They say,” he added darkly, “they say he eats people. Enemies of the King.”

Laela shivered. “People’re scared of him. The King, too.”

“’Course they are,” said Mawrth. “Ye’d have t’be an idiot not t’be. But they protect us, Laela. See? They might be scary t’some, but without them, we’d be lost. It’s thanks t’them we’re free, an’ it’s thanks t’them we stay free, too. The Southerners outnumber us, but they’d never dare invade again. They’re too scared to, after what Skandar an’ the King did to their friends here all them years ago. An’ it’s a damn good thing, too.”

Laela frowned to herself. It was odd to hear the King, who in the South was always spoken of with fear and hatred, referred to as a heroic protector. But, she supposed, it only made sense, after all. .

She travelled with Mawrth for nearly a week, and by the end of it she had come to like him. It was almost sad to say goodbye.

“Good luck, Laela,” he said as he pocketed her money. “I hope ye find the new home ye’re lookin’ for.”

She couldn’t stop herself from looking him in the face at last. “Thanks for everythin’, Mawrth. Yeh were a good friend.”

Mawrth nodded and smiled. “It was my pleasure.”

Laela walked away from his cart. He hadn’t shown any sign of noticing her blue eyes. Maybe he just hadn’t seen them. But then, who noticed the colour of someone’s eyes?

That part of her journey didn’t just bring her much closer to Malvern-it also gave her even more confidence.

And it showed her that her belief had been correct: Here in the North, she could blend in. Here, people treated her like an ordinary person-some of them were even friendly. Here she could make a new life-she knew it.

Her belief was confirmed over the next few weeks as a combination of money and the kindness of strangers made her journey quicker and easier. In one of the larger towns she passed through, she bought a new set of clothes-made in the thicker, warmer Northern manner. She even went so far as to enjoy a drink or two in a tavern, and aside from the usual drunken leering, no-one molested her.

By the time Malvern’s walls came in sight, she had all but lost her fear. In fact, she had come to love the North. She had barely been there any time at all, but it already felt like home. Even her misery over her father had