Dark Lord of Derkholm (Derkholm 1) - Page 73

“Start gathering more firewood,” Geoffrey commanded. “The wizard knows his job.”

Everyone did so. Blade was annoyed at the way everyone did what Geoffrey said, and he was even more annoyed at having to be grateful to Geoffrey for it, but a large bonfire got built. When it was blazing nicely on top of the rise, Blade stuck his hands in his sleeves again. “I must meditate,” he said. He went downhill to wait for the person who saw the large fire and brought the geese there. He hoped it was Kit. He was missing Kit badly. Kit had so many ideas about what to do, and he organized people even better than Geoffrey did. Blade realized that he had relied on Kit to organize him all his life, and he felt quite lost without him, out here in the middle of nowhere.

But it was Callette who came. She ghosted down about two hours later and wearily thunked a hamper beside Blade’s feet. “Why are you in this place? I’ve been looking all over the hills for you.”

It was so dark by then that all Blade could see of her was a curve of beak, a gleam of eye, and the paleness of the bars on her wings. He was delighted to see even that much. She was Callette. She was family and home. “You wouldn’t believe, Callette!” he said. “We got lost because the bandits were murdered by some escaped soldiers and one of them keeps falling off her horse and one of them isn’t even a Pilgrim!”

“Yes, but I have to get back,” Callette said. “I spent hours looking for you. I’m supposed to be doing the Hunt.”

“Sorry,” Blade said. “Is everyone all right? Kit, Dad, Don?”

“Don nearly lost all the dogs last night,” said Callette. “Even Kit’s tired. He keeps being nice to me. Do you want these geese or not?”

“Yes, I suppose,” said Blade.

He got behind the hamper as Callette tipped it up and opened it. No geese came out. Instead, two large pale pigs, sleepily grunting, stuck their snouts up to stare at Callette. Callette stared back in almost exactly the same surprised posture she had used when she brought Mr. Chesney the barrel of blood, beak poised downward, wings curved up. But Blade could somehow see her surprise was real. “How are they here? What have those geese done now?” she said.

“Translocated two pigs? Callette, they can’t have done!” said Blade.

“They can,” Callette said. “They do all sorts of things at night at home. They got bored being avians. Last night I only managed to get one into the hamper. I put her in, and she pecked me.”

“And now they’re showing you. I see,” Blade said. The pigs recognized him and ambled amiably around to him. They were Ringlet and Bouncer by the feel, he thought.

“Do you want to use the pigs instead?” Callette asked.

Blade, with an arm around each of two warm, tubby, bristled bodies, found himself horrified at what the professor’s whistling sword or Reville’s rapier might do to them. “They’d get killed. Dad would have fits.”

“I suppose I could swoop over your bonfire a bit,” Callette offered.

Blade found himself horrified at that, too. “No, you’d get hurt. Then you couldn’t do the Hunt. Put them back in the hamper and go. I’ll think of an illusion or something.”

“If you’re sure,” Callette said, obviously glad to go.

“I am sure,” Blade said. “You get going.”

Ringlet and Bouncer were only too pleased to resume their interrupted snooze in the hamper. Callette took them up with a jerk and a slight whop of wings and ghosted away. Blade felt sad. Too sad and much too tired to think of illusions. He had no idea how Kit did them, anyway.

“I have averted the evil,” he announced to the Pilgrims. “You may sleep in peace.”

Shona naturally wanted to know what had happened. Blade took her some way down the hill and explained.

“Those geese have funny minds,” she said. “Dad says they always want to fly south

really. Maybe they did.”

“They’d better not fly near me,” Blade said. “I’ll—I’ll—actually it’s hard to think of something to do to geese that are probably wizards, but I’ll do something.”

He took the Pilgrims toward the Wild Hunt the next day. They missed it entirely.

Blade could not understand it. He had led everyone through the confusing hilly landscape, not confused at all and quite confident that he was converging on the place near the river where the Hunt was to find them, and instead they came out above the wide green vale where Mara’s aunt’s house was. Three days early. Blade was almost as astonished to see it as Callette had been to see the pigs.

TWENTY-ONE

BLADE LOOKED AT THE distant clump of trees hiding Aunt’s house, and the inviting spire of smoke rising up from it, and decided that it would be silly not to go down there. Besides, he doubted if the Pilgrims would let him lead them away from it.

Dad Poole said, “Hey, that looks inviting!” and most other people said thankfully, “Civilization at last!” while Sukey said, “I’m cold, I’m hungry, and I’m tired. I’m not going a step further on this stupid tour unless I can have a bath and wash my hair.”

“You shall, you shall, my lady,” Reville assured her. He was looking at the spire of smoke as eagerly as anyone there.

Tags: Diana Wynne Jones Derkholm Fantasy
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