Beneath (11 page)

He opened his eyes.

At first, he didn’t look at her. His gaze was on the ceiling, and she could see him struggling to remember where he was, and why.

“Finn,” she said quietly.

He turned his head towards the sound, and she saw his eyes widen.

“Jess?”

He knew her. That was a start. She smiled at him. Before she could say anything, he spoke again, his words slurred and uncertain.

“I’m sorry. I should have stayed away. I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”

“You haven’t. No one knows who you are.” There was no reason to trouble him with the truth just now. “What happened to you? I don’t mean the cold, or the wolves. Something else has happened to you.”

He closed his eyes and turned his face away from her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
Come on, Jess,
she thought.
This isn’t what he needs just now
.

“Are you warm enough?”

A smile. “Yes. I’d forgotten what it was like to be warm.”

She bit back the questions she longed to ask, and concentrated instead on practical ones.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

“Starving.”

She looked at his hollowed face.

“You actually mean that. I’ll go and get you something.”

“No. Don’t go yet. Sit for a bit longer first.”

Jess nodded and sat back, wondering what it was safe to say, but after a couple of minutes he fell asleep anyway. She
waited impatiently for him to wake again. How long would it take?

She heard footsteps on the stairs and Martha’s head came round the door.

“Anything?”

“He did wake up, but only for a couple of minutes.”

She came fully into the room and Jess saw that she was carrying a basin of water.

“Your father’s coming up to help me clean his wounds.”

“I can help.”

“No, thank you.” Ian stumped in with the medicine chest under one arm.

“Go and heat some soup,” Martha said. “The poor soul needs some food.”

Jess had no choice but to let herself be banished again.

Finn ran. He drifted between horse and human form. He didn’t know if he was being hunted, or searching for something that kept sliding out of sight.

Wolves howled around him, but he couldn’t see them, although he could feel them tearing at his flesh.

“Get out! See what you’ve done.”

“Finn!”

Voices crowded into his head, shouting at him.

“Come back!”

“Get out!”

The wolves slashed at him again. He couldn’t get free.

“No!”

He realised he’d spoken aloud and opened his eyes. Jess’s mother was there again, the father with her this time.

“Jess?”

“She’s downstairs,” said her mother. “Lie still now. It looks as though a dog attacked you. We need to clean the bites.”

“Wolves.”

“What?”

“Not dogs. Wolves.”

Jess’s mother looked at him curiously, and he wondered if it had been a mistake to tell her.

“Anyway, we need to clean them up, or they’ll make you ill. More ill.” She started to wash the bites. “Your family must be worried about you. Where are you from? We’ll get word to them as soon as we can.”

“I don’t have any family.” He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to think any more. It was too difficult.

He slept and woke and slept again. Sometimes the mother was there, sometimes Jess.

He ate some soup, slept again.

“Wake up, lad. I want to talk to you.”

Something poked him in the chest. He ignored it.

“Come on. You’ve slept for long enough.” Poke. “Wake up and talk to me.”

It seemed he didn’t have a choice. He fought his eyes open and recoiled slightly. There was a face very close to him, bright-eyed and wrinkled with age. It retreated a bit as its owner sat down again.

“That’s better. Are you thirsty? Here.” She gave him a drink of water. “I’m Jess’s grandmother. I know who you are. Why are you here?”

Surely she knew how they’d found him?

“They brought me here. I was in the orchard.”

“Yes, I know that.” Impatient. “What were you doing out there in that weather? Why weren’t you with your own people?”

I know who you are. Why aren’t you with your own people?
The words sank in slowly.

“Ah, now you understand me. I can see from your face. Why aren’t you in your own world?”

Finn shut his eyes, hoping that he’d fall asleep and she’d be gone when he woke again.

Poke.

It was no good.

“I can’t go back.”

“Because the pool was poisoned? You’re trapped here?”

He nodded. Let her think that. It was easier.

“And what do you mean to do to us? To Jess?”

She had his attention properly now. He opened his eyes.

“Nothing. Nothing, I swear. I don’t mean you any harm. I didn’t mean to come here.” His voice was agitated now. “I don’t want to cause trouble.”

The old woman looked keenly at him. After a moment she spoke again.

“I believe you.” She put a hand on his brow. “You’ve got a fever. I’ll go and make you something for it.” She got up. “Do I have your word that you’ll leave here as soon as you’re well enough, and do us no harm?”

“Yes. Yes, of course,” he said, though in his heart, Finn knew how desperately difficult it would be to leave Jess.

“Very well. No one knows about you but Jess and I. We’ll keep it like that.”

“Well?” said Jess, looking up as Ellen came into the sitting room, where she sat darning socks very badly.

Ellen sat down.

“He swears he means us no harm and he’ll leave as soon as he’s able. I’m inclined to believe him, but in any case he’s too sick to be any sort of threat just now.”

“How sick is he?”

“Oh, I dare say he’ll be all right. He’s young, and healthy despite what’s happened to him recently.”

“So you won’t tell the others?”

“No. If he saved your life, I owe him that – so long as he keeps his part of the bargain. Now, I said I’d take him up some willow tea. He’s feverish – not that that’s surprising, rolling about in the snow for days with untended wolf bites. Will you take it? I can’t be bothered to climb all those stairs again just now. Here – give me that darning. You’re making a right mess
of it.”

Jess relinquished the sock with a grateful smile, and five minutes later she was stepping into her room with a cup of her grandmother’s tea.

Finn had a heap of pillows under his head so that he could see out of the window to the snowy landscape beyond. He lay looking out now, and his expression as he did so made Jess stop, feeling that she was intruding on something private and painful.

“Tea,” she said abruptly. He looked at her, half smiled and pulled himself up a bit so he could drink.

“I met your grandmother,” he said dryly.

“She’s decided you’re not here to murder us all,” Jess replied.

He took a drink and grimaced.

“That’s horrible. What is it?”

“Willow tea. Gran says you’ve got a fever.”

He made a face and took another swallow.

“How deep is the snow now?” he asked.

“Hip deep on me. There hasn’t been any fresh stuff for over a day, but it’s not moving either.”

He started to say something, then changed his mind.

“Will there be snow in your world just now?” Jess filled the silence.

He shook his head.

“Things freeze – the whole river freezes sometimes – but it never snows. I remember seeing snow for the first time. I couldn’t think what it could be. I watched you and your brother playing in it.” He smiled, remembering. “You’ve no idea how much I wanted to come and join in. You both looked so happy.”

He’d heard the screams and run towards the farmyard through the cold white that wasn’t fog or rain, afraid that Jess was hurt or frightened, not stopping to think.

Then he’d seen the two of them throwing handfuls of the stuff at each other, flushed and elated, and realised as he ducked out of
sight that the screams were screams of delight.

“I wish you
had
joined in,” Jess said. “When was that?”

“Years ago,” he said. “You must have been about nine or ten. I thought snow was beautiful back then, but I’ve seen enough of it now.”

He took another swallow of tea and held the cup out to Jess. “Please – I can’t drink any more of it. But don’t tell your grandmother.”

“I won’t.”

They lapsed into silence, and Finn went back to looking out of the window. Jess watched his expression change back to the melancholy one she’d seen when she came in.

“You’ll be able to go home soon. Once you’re well, and some of the snow’s gone. Your family must be worried about you.”

“I can’t go back,” he said flatly.

He kept his face turned away from her and she waited silently for him to speak again, afraid that if she pressed him, he would clam up altogether.

“I warned you,” his mother had said. “I warned you that you would bring disaster down on all of us. Look at what you have done to your sister. All for a human girl. Go. Leave our world, since you think so little of it. Go through that poisoned water to the Upper World and stay there. Leave the Nykur world and never return. You are no longer Nykur.”

Finn stood mute. He couldn’t fully comprehend what he had just heard.

“Get out.”

“But…”

His mother turned her back.

“Please. I didn’t mean…”

She ignored him completely.

He backed away towards the door, too stunned to protest any more. In the bed, Rowan realised at last what was
happening.

“Finn, stop! Come back.”

“Hush,” said her mother, sitting down beside her. “He has to go.”

He ran then, Rowan’s cries ringing in his ears.

There was no one to look after him when he burst out of the hideous water, burned and retching. He forced himself into horse shape so that he could get away from the pool and lay wincing among the mosses and trees high on a hillside while his skin healed.

He had no idea what to do, cast adrift like this. It was difficult to think, cold and hurt and hungry as he was. He wandered without purpose, managing to find enough food to keep himself alive, but not much more than that.

The farm pulled at him like a lodestone. He kept his distance as much as he could, but he couldn’t bring himself to go elsewhere: every time he glimpsed her in the distance, his resolve to leave evaporated.

And then came the day when he’d smelled the wolves and knew they had broken through from his world and he’d had to fight them to save Jess; and then came the snow. He’d given up, decided to let himself slide away into a final sleep, but he’d needed one last look…

And he’d even got that wrong, for he woke again, trouble following him as usual.

Jess had sat waiting for Finn to answer. Now she couldn’t bear his silence any longer.

“It’s my fault, isn’t it? For putting that thing round your neck.”

He pushed himself up on the pillows, taking in her expression properly at last.

“No. No, Jess, it isn’t that.” He reached out and caught one of her hands. “I took Freya, and there was trouble about that.
We weren’t supposed to take anyone else. I disobeyed that. And then the pool was poisoned, and my sister was hurt… My family have disowned me. I can never go back to the Nykur world.”

Saying the words aloud made it seem even more final. He let go of her hand and turned his face to the window so that she wouldn’t see the tears in his eyes.

Jess had no idea what to say. Every word she knew was useless.

“I’m tired. Let me sleep,” he managed to say.

She went without a word, and closed the door behind her.

Ellen limped upstairs, muttering to herself. The boy’s fever was gone, but he was – there was no other word for it –
moping
. Ellen had no patience with mopers. When she pushed open the door he was lying in bed staring listlessly out of the window. Again. He didn’t even turn his head to see who it was.

She flung back the quilts that covered him. That got his attention.

“Come on, horse boy. You can’t lie there forever. Time to get up.”

“I can’t,” he said dully.

“Rubbish. You just don’t want to.”

“There’s no point.”

“You made me a promise – remember? To leave when you were well enough. I want you to make some effort to keep it.”

“But,” and she poked him in the chest to emphasise the point, “I don’t want you to just wander off to die in the snow somewhere.”

“Why not?”

“Because Jess would never forgive herself. She thinks this is her fault.”

“It’s not. I’ve told her.”

“I know that. But when you leave here, you leave with some
purpose other than to pine away. You’re not the first person to lose their family, you know. It happens every day.”

“Not like this.”

“No, not like this. Always different, and always terrible for the one who’s left behind. You’ll have to make yourself a new life. It’s been done before.”

“Why do you care what I do anyway?”

“I told you: I don’t want to see Jess miserable, or blaming herself for something that’s not her fault.” Ellen paused.

“But there’s another thing too. You know we’re kin. Your father is my cousin. I was there when he was taken.” There was no friendliness in her eyes or voice now. “Most people thought I was lying when I told them what had happened. Some of them thought I’d done away with poor Euan myself. The tales followed me for years. So, horse boy, I don’t have much patience with your self-pity. We all make our own way in life, whatever it gives us to work with.”

She went out of the room without another word, leaving Finn to consider his future.

“Someone’s coming!” Ashe came thudding down the stairs. “There’s someone on a horse coming along the road.”

He ran back upstairs, his mother close behind. She peered out of the window. He was right. Against the dead white of the snow, a small black blot stood out, moving where the road should be.

“Can you see who it is?” Ashe asked, craning his neck for a better view.

Martha shook her head. “No. They’re too far away just now. Go and tell your father and Jess. Whoever it is, it’ll be good to see someone else’s face for a bit of variety.”

Ashe dashed off, delighted to have some news to spread.

On the way back down the stairs, Martha paused and knocked on Jess’s door, then went in.

Ellen sat in the chair. Finn was up and dressed, standing by the window. Martha was intrigued. Her mother-in-law had spent a lot of time in here talking to the boy in the last few days, though she answered in the vaguest of terms when Martha asked her what they spoke about.

Alhough Martha didn’t want to throw Finn out, friendless, into the winter weather, she was pleased to see signs that he would soon be well enough to go. His presence had disturbed the atmosphere of the house in a way that she was hard put to explain. Neither Ian nor Ashe – of course – seemed aware of anything, and looked at her in bafflement when she asked them if they had noticed. Jess however, was fractious and preoccupied, quite unlike her usual self. As for Ellen, Martha didn’t know what to make of her attitude to Finn: she radiated disapproval of him for reasons that were entirely obscure to Martha, and yet she spent hours talking to him.

They’d all been shut in together for far too long.

“There’s someone on the road,” she told Ellen and Finn. “It looks as though we’ve got a visitor.”

By the time Ashe came back with his father and sister, Martha had recognised the rider.

“It’s Magnus,” she said as they came in. “He’s riding a carthorse.”

“Magnus?” said Jess blankly. “I’ll… I’ll just…”

“Go on,” said her mother, shooing her up the stairs.

When had she last thought about Magnus?
Jess pounded upstairs to Ashe’s room, which she was temporarily sharing. She hauled off the filthy dress she’d been wearing to help with the animals, pulled on a clean one and tidied her hair. There; she was ready.

She sat down abruptly on the bed, feeling anything but ready. Her mind had been concentrated on Finn for days. It had never crossed her mind that he and Magnus might meet.

Fleetingly she thought of running out into the snow to hide until one of them – either of them – left.

“Stop being stupid,” she said aloud. “As far as Magnus is concerned, Finn is just some boy you found in the snow.”

And as far as Finn was concerned, who was Magnus? She’d never talked to him about Magnus, and regretted that more and more with each second that passed.

She risked a look in the mirror and was surprised to see that she didn’t look like the unravelling lunatic she felt she was. There were still a few minutes to spare. She went into her own room and found Finn alone. He turned from the window and looked at her.

“You look…”

“Clean. I know – it’s quite a change. We’ve a visitor coming, you see,” Jess said. “You don’t count any more. You’ve been here too long.” She stopped and took a breath. “That came out wrong. I just meant… We haven’t been making an effort to look our best for you.”

“You look – you’ve always looked… fine.”

Fine? What did that mean?

There was an unquiet silence.

“The visitor – Magnus – he’s Freya’s cousin. I’ve known him a long time – we all have. He’s a… He’s my…” She couldn’t say the word.

“Oh. I see. I’m… I’ll… Don’t worry, I’ll keep out of the way.”

“No. I didn’t mean that. Just…”

“I’ll be careful what I say.”

“Yes… yes, that’s what I meant.” But it wasn’t. At all.

“I’d better go,” she said. “But you don’t have to hide up here. Magnus is an easy person to like. Come and meet him.” It was probably best to get it over with, after all.

“I’ll come down in a while. You should have some time with him first. All of you, I mean.”

“All right. But you can’t hide up here for too long. Ashe will tell Magnus all about you as soon as he gets through the door. You’re the most exciting thing that’s happened in ages. Happened to him.”

They parted with uncertain smiles, and Jess ran down the stairs.

The family clustered round the open front door, watching the big horse almost burrowing its way through the snow towards them. Magnus jumped down to help it force its way through the last drift.

“You’re all well?” he asked, breathing hard.

“We are that,” Ian replied.

“And all the better for seeing you,” added Martha. “Come inside. Ian will see to the horse.”

Magnus let himself be led indoors. Jess hung back as Martha and Ellen fussed around him.

Ashe was jumping up and down in an effort to be noticed.

“You’ll never guess,” he said, very loudly. “We found someone dead in the snow. Well, not dead, just nearly dead and the wolves had tried to kill him, the wolves have come
down already, and his name’s Finn and he’s upstairs. He’s nearly better now. I can take you up to meet him.” He stopped bouncing. “If you want.”

Magnus opened his mouth and closed it again, unsure who he should respond to first.

Ellen caught Ashe’s arm and steered him firmly towards the kitchen, Martha following.

“I’ll get the kettle on. Hot drink,” she said, disappearing along the passage.

Jess looked at Magnus.

“I wanted to see if you were all right. All of you, I mean,” he said, beginning to peel off layers of clothing.

“We’re fine. Yes.” Jess came forward to help him.

“Good.” Magnus stopped, halfway out of a jacket, and put his arms round her instead. “I mean, I knew you would be, but…” He stopped talking and kissed her instead, and for a moment she forgot to be worried about Finn.

“Magnus!” Martha called suddenly.

They jumped apart.

“Come and tell us what’s been happening in Kirriemuir.”

Magnus grinned at Jess. “Coming,” he called. He took her hand and towed her along to the kitchen.

“Freya sends her love,” he said to everyone as he entered. “She’s in bed with a cough or I don’t know how I could have stopped her coming.”

Martha put a steaming mug and a huge slab of fruit cake down in front of him. “Eat. Drink. Get warm. And then tell us everything.”

“It sounds as if you’ve more to tell me than I have to tell you. Who’s the mysterious not-dead person upstairs?”

“He’s called Finn.” Ashe wasn’t having anyone else get the chance to pass on such important information. “He’s staying in Jess’s room.”

“Which means I’m staying in Ashe’s room,” Jess added. “Which is lovely, of course. Peaceful.”

Magnus gave her a conspiratorial smile.

“I hope you’re staying the night?” Ian asked as he came in from stabling the horse.

“Please – if I won’t be in the way,” Magnus replied. “The horse will be tired. I’d have to turn straight round to be back before nightfall, and with what you’ve said about the wolves…”

There was a chorus of protest that he should even consider such a thing and the matter was settled. He’d only stay one night though: any longer and Freya would have Arnor out searching for him.

“Why don’t you take Magnus up to meet Finn?” Ellen asked Jess with counterfeit innocence. “It’ll give us a chance to cook enough extra food for him.”

Magnus laughed, taking Ellen’s jibe, as always, in good part.

Jess had been hoping that everyone had somehow forgotten about Finn. Despite what she had said to him earlier, this was not a meeting that she was looking forward to.

“I’ll take him,” Ashe volunteered selflessly.

“We’ll both go with Magnus,” she said quickly. “Off you go and tell Finn we’re coming up.”

Following more slowly, Jess gave Magnus a quick version of Finn’s official story. When they went into Jess’s room Finn and Ashe were sitting on the window seat. Finn was whittling at something with Ashe’s knife.

“Look.” Ashe pointed, forgetting all about introductions. “He’s made a horse. It’s really good.” He took it from Finn and held it up for Magnus’s approval. “This is Magnus.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” said Finn, rising.

Who from?
Jess wondered. It certainly wasn’t her.

Magnus studied Finn curiously. “I like the horse.”

Finn shrugged. “It’s something to do to pass the time.”

“You must all be bored to distraction stuck out here in the snow for so long,” Magnus said.

“Well, it’s certainly good to have a different face to look at,” said Jess with feeling.

“But we’ve had Finn,” Ashe said, as though she might have forgotten. “He’s been a different face.”

“Yes, I suppose he has,” said Magnus, looking suddenly thoughtful.

“Jess!” Her father bellowed up the stairs.

“What?”

“Your mother needs a hand.”

Not now.

“Can’t it wait for a bit?” She didn’t want these two talking without her there as a buffer.

“No. Come down please.”

“I’ll have to go. Magnus, are you coming?”

“I’ll stay here for a bit with Finn and Ashe. I’m sure we’ll find plenty to talk about.”

She waited for Finn to help her by saying he was tired, but he didn’t say anything. Seething inwardly, she forced a smile.

“Right. That’s fine then.”

She remembered just in time that it would look childish to slam the door.

“The snow in Dundee’s nothing compared to here,” said Magnus later on as they ate.  “Not even up to your knees. But the folk are terrified that it will bring the wolves. A lot of people won’t go out at all after dark.”

“How bad
are
the wolves?” Ian asked.

“I’ve got nothing to go by but the stories – there hasn’t been a real wolf winter since we moved there.”

“What stories?” asked Finn.

“Great black wolves that come into the town and attack people – adults as well as children. No one knows where they come from – they just appear, create havoc, then disappear again.”

Jess looked curiously at Finn, trying to read his expression. He had said little during the meal, and she had been aware of him quietly observing Magnus.

Later, Jess was making up a bed for Magnus in the sitting room. Normally he would have shared Ashe’s room, but of
course…

“You’ll be glad to get your room back when he goes,” Magnus observed, watching Jess shove a pillow into its cover. “It can’t have been easy having a stranger stuck in the house with you. Mind you, he’s been here so long he hardly counts as a stranger any more, does he?”

Was she imagining it, or was there an edge to his voice?

“Why does Ellen watch Finn all the time?” he continued.

Jess stopped what she was doing, taken aback. “Does she? I hadn’t noticed that.”

“It’s as though she doesn’t approve of him, or she’s watching to see what he’s going to do.” Magnus shook his head. “Maybe she knows something about him that none of the rest of you do. His Dark Secret. I’m pretty sure Ellen would be able to uncover anyone’s Dark Secret.”

Jess gave a forced laugh. Magnus was straying in a direction she didn’t like at all.

“And what about
your
Dark Secret?” she asked with false lightness. “Has she uncovered that?”

“Ages ago,” said Magnus ruefully. “Long before you realised what it was.”

“Idiot.” Jess threw the pillow at him.

Magnus left next morning after what he called a fortifying breakfast.

“He’s so fortified it’s a wonder the horse’s legs don’t buckle,” Martha observed as they waved him off.

Having their isolation broken had cheered everyone up, as had the discovery that the snow was beginning to melt. That would bring its own problems, but at least they’d be different problems.

Jess was alone in the barn when the door opened and Finn came in. He’d kept to his room when Magnus was leaving. Jess smiled at him and carried on with what she was doing. She wanted to know what he thought of Magnus, but she didn’t
want to ask him.

Finn watched her work in silence for a moment, then said abruptly, “I’m going to leave in two or three days.”

Jess stopped.

“That’s too soon. You’re not ready – and the weather…”

“I’m better now, and the snow’s melting. Magnus will tell people in Kirriemuir that I’m here. I have to go before things get complicated.”

“You can’t leave just like that. Where will you go? What will you do?”

Finn shrugged. “I’ll find something. I’ll find a place. Your grandmother…” He searched for words. “She made me see things differently. I’ll be all right.”

“You
can’t
go. I… I’m…” Words stuck at the back of her throat.

They looked at each other for several seconds.

“I’ll let you get on.” Finn turned to leave.

After he’d gone, she stood for a long time staring at the closed door.

It wouldn’t take him long to pack. He had no belongings, except what Jess’s family had pressed on him: a couple of changes of clothing, two blankets, a knife and a tinderbox, some food and a little money. He’d tried to refuse the money when Ellen had given it to him, but she had insisted.

He could hardly bear to look at Jess, yet at the same time he wanted to look at her constantly. He might never see her again. It was
likely
that he would never see her again. He had to go far enough from here that whatever it was that seemed to bind him to her would be broken.

She mustn’t know how he felt. That would be the final indignity. He imagined the look of horror on her face; or, worse still, pity.

His thoughts turned to his family. Rowan, surely, would be better by now. He wondered if his mother regretted banishing
him. Probably not; he’d never known her change her mind about anything. And his father would never go against his mother’s wishes.

That part of his life was finished. He had to forget that he had ever been Nykur. From now on, he could be only human, could only live in this grey, muffled, grubby world.