Free Shadowfell by Juliet Marillier Page B

small ears of the infant sticking up from it. None of the others seemed to be around. I crept into the shelter and realised I was wrong on one count, for the flames’ warmth was a blessing on my chill body. I sank down, easing my bag from my shoulder.
    ‘Aye, that’s it,’ Sage said, eyeing me as I stretched out my hands to the fire. ‘You can’t go on anyway, with king’s men on the road. You may as well be warm and fed.’
    Before I could say much at all, Red Cap was ladling a mushroom broth out of his tiny pannikin into even smaller bowls fashioned of interwoven leaves. He put one of these in my hands. ‘Eat up,’ he advised, and applied himself to his own meal. Sorrel drank his share straight from the bowl. Sage ate tidily, using an implement fashioned from an acorn cup.
    I hesitated, my mouth watering, my mind on old tales about folk who wandered into the realm of the Good Folk, accepted tempting treats and found they could never return home again.
    ‘Get on with it, then,’ Sorrel urged. ‘You’re skin and bone, girl.’
    ‘You’ll take no harm from the brew,’ put in Sage, quicker to understand why I held back. ‘Eat your fill.’
    So I ate, though my sore throat made it hard to swallow. The food was good. It was astonishing that such a small pot could provide sufficient for all four of us, but it did. When Red Cap had drunk half his bowlful, he loosened the sling, lifted out the baby and sat it on his knee, where he proceeded to feed it the remainder of his meal by dipping his finger in, then letting the infant suck off the broth.
    As soon as I was done eating, I got to my feet again.
    ‘I should go on,’ I made myself say, though I longed to stay by the fire. ‘Thank you for helping me –’
    ‘Sun’s up,’ Sorrel observed. ‘King’s men will be watching. Besides, you’re dripping wet. Bide awhile, dry yourself, and watch who comes and goes down there. If you have to run in the open, don’t do it without thinking.’
    ‘That could be the best way to do it,’ I said. ‘Before I lose my courage.’
    ‘A plan, that’s what you need, and common sense,’ said Sage. ‘Do what the wee mannie tells you, Neryn. Rest, dry those wet things, get some heart back.’
    I sat down again or, rather, my legs gave up the effort to support me. ‘How do you know my name?’
    Sage gave me a beady-eyed look. ‘We know what we know,’ she said, which was no answer at all.
    ‘Where are the folk who were with you earlier? Silver, and the man in the nutshell cape, and all those others?’
    ‘Ah.’ Sage had her hands held out to the fire’s warmth. She gazed into the flames. ‘We had what you might call a disagreement. The three of us came this way. The others . . . well, they followed Silver, as they generally do.’
    Had I been the cause of this? Had I parted friend from friend? I hoped not.
    ‘Our kind, we’re solitary folk mostly, you understand. Get more than two of us together and we’re uncomfortable. Get more than three of us together and you’ll likely have a dispute.’
    ‘There are three of you.’
    ‘Aye, well, three’s not such a bad number. In the old tales it’s all threes. And we’re not your run-of-the-mill folk.’ She glanced at her companions. ‘Silver and her band were eager to leave you to your own devices. Keen to send you on your journey alone.’
    ‘They were right,’ I said, ‘though today I am very glad of your fire, your food and your companionship. The king’s laws forbid all of this. You should go home and leave me.’
    ‘Home? What home does she mean, Sage?’ If Sorrel had been possessed of visible eyebrows, he would have lifted them at this point.
    ‘I don’t rightly know, Sorrel. The old home under the earth? Or a new wee home, with a bittie wall in front and flowers growing over it, maybe?’ Sage’s unswerving stare had never left my face. ‘Would that be your picture of it, Red Cap?’
    ‘With this king ruling Alban,’ Red Cap said, ‘we’ve