through gritted teeth. Sigwide stuck his nose into
her ear as she moved on again, trying to hold her wounded arm
immobile. She swayed as faintness again threatened to overwhelm
her. Sigwide settled himself against her neck, uttering a rough,
grumbling purr.
Llandry took
another three steps and stopped. The world blurred and her vision
clouded with fog. She swayed, and Sigwide squeaked with alarm as he
tumbled out of her limp arms. She fell.
***
Llandry woke
beneath layers of blankets in a bed that was not her own. She
frowned, confused, blinking in the low light of a bedside globe.
Her arm throbbed painfully when she tried to move, so she lay
still.
'Llandry?' Her
mother's voice, muted and filled with concern. Llandry recognised
the room now: the bedchamber in her mother's tree where she had
slept as a child. It still flourished with the forest's most
colourful fungi, well tended in neat clay pots.
Soft footsteps
sounded, then her mother's face bent over her.
'Ah - you are
awake.' There was relief mingled with fear in Ynara's voice. She
peeled back the covers gently. Llandry glanced down at her arm
reluctantly, afraid of what she might see. The pain was so
excessive, she felt as though half of her arm was
missing.
It wasn't. Her
arm lay inert but whole, swaddled in bandages. Clouds of blood
marred the white cloth in several places, alarmingly red. Ynara's
lips twisted in sympathy. Llandry felt curiously detached as she
watched her flesh bleed.
'Keep still,
love,' said her mother. Her face vanished from Llandry's line of
sight, her footsteps rapidly receding. Llandry had no intention of
moving. Was it possible for a limb to spontaneously detach itself?
It felt possible. Maybe it ought to be encouraged: at least it
would stop hurting.
Ynara returned,
and set a steaming cup to her daughter's lips. The scent was
familiar: litorn mushroom, but stronger than she'd ever tasted
before. She drank, and the pain gradually began to
recede.
Ynara allowed a
few minutes to pass before carefully rebandaging her daughter's
arm. Llandry lay quietly until it was done, her mind busy. She
recalled the black claws, the ice-coloured eyes in the darkness,
the sudden, searing pain in her arm...
'Where's
Sigwide?' Her voice sounded strange, distant and annoyingly
feeble.
'In the kitchen.
I left him with a whole bucket of food, so he's quite
happy.'
'Was he
hurt?'
'No; he's quite
well.'
Llandry relaxed
slightly. 'Thanks, Ma.'
Ynara tucked the
blankets carefully around Llandry's chin. She was smiling, but her
eyes were anxious.
'He was curled up
on your stomach when you were found. Apparently he would hardly let
anyone near you.'
Llandry smiled
too. 'That's my Siggy.' A thought occurred to her, distantly. It
took a while to work its way to the fore. She waited patiently as
her mother busied herself with collecting the discarded bandages
and cup.
'Ma. Should the
Night Cloak change?'
'Change how,
love?'
'Spread. Swallow
parts of Glinnery.'
'I've never heard
of that before.'
Llandry nodded
drowsily. 'Well, that's what happened.'
Ynara frowned.
'And what else, love?'
'Don't know,' she
said hazily. Her mind wouldn't co-operate; she felt like she was
swimming through fog. 'Something else in there. Shadowy,' she added
helpfully.
'All right, love.
We'll talk of it when you've rested a bit more.' She placed a kiss
on Llandry's brow and moved away.
'Aren't you angry
with me, Ma?'
Her mother sighed
deeply. 'I ought to be. But no. I am far too relieved that you're
alive.' Llandry was distantly aware of her standing on the other
side of the room, smiling down at her. 'Get some sleep, Llan.' She
left, closing the door quietly behind her.
Llandry
slept.
***
Next time she
woke, she opened her eyes to see her mother sitting in a chair
nearby, reading a book. She looked up when Llandry stirred, and
smiled.
'I was hoping
you'd wake soon. Are you hungry?'
Llandry sat up
slowly, horrified by the stiffness in her body and the