Half Discovered Wings (4 page)

Gabel sat in the chair. ‘Were you sleeping?’

‘
I tried at sunset, but couldn’t,’ Rowan said
slowly.

He noticed
that she had dark rings underneath her brown eyes, and as he looked
at her neck and shoulders saw how thin she was. She mistook his
concern for impropriety, and pulled the blanket further around
herself.

‘
I came to tell you that William Teague is dead,’ he told her
clumsily. She looked blank, until he added, ‘the were-creature. The
one that killed Bethany.’

‘
He’s dead?’ she asked, eyes brightening but then dimming
suddenly. She coughed into her fist.

‘
You’re sick.’

‘
It isn’t too bad, but Father says it’ll get worse.’

‘
I’ll leave you. You should get rest.’

‘
Rest is no cure for what I have.’

She looked suddenly pale then, as he examined her, and her
eyes had an obscure quality in the low light. She seemed like a
wraith, translucent. She told him how the Father had no clue as to
the cause of her sickness, and that she felt very tired, always. He
took that as his cue to leave.

She said to his back: ‘Was its name … Teague? That killed
Bethany?’

Rowan and Bethany had not been related to one other, but ever
since Rowan had been found on the fringes of town two years ago,
Father and Bethany had taken care of her. They were a
family.

‘
Yes,’ he replied. ‘Don’t worry. He’s gone now.’

She smiled
sleepily, laying down and pulling the covers up to her chin. ‘Thank
you, Joseph.’

‘
Goodnight, Rowan.’

~

‘
What did she say?’ Father asked quietly.

‘
She was happy it was all over.’

Gabel looked toward the back of the apse. Rows of candles sat
like soldiers, guttering forlornly in the breeze that stole inward
through the decaying masonry.

‘
What is she ill with?’ he asked.

Father sat down on the front row of pews, sighed and said,
‘It’s not clear. I believe that she’s simply run down. Perhaps it’s
this business over the were-creature…’

‘
Didn’t she imply once that it had something to do with how you
found her?’

‘
Yes, but I get the distinct impression that she’s not quite
certain. She still doesn’t remember anything of the time before I
stumbled across her in the forest.’

‘
At least Bethany was avenged.’

‘
And I think the whole town is grateful for that.’

The hunter
scowled. ‘The rest of the town looks at me like a leper.’

‘
Remember,’ said Father, putting a friendly hand on his
shoulder, ‘you’re doing Irenia’s work, whether you like that idea
or not.’

~

The town felt deserted. Amidst the long shadows the light
swam colourful and rich, but Gabel couldn’t enjoy the sight any
longer. He felt tired from the fruitless searching, sapped, and the
setting sun only made him feel more exhausted.

As he
approached the bench where Bethany died, the cloudy sky turned
orange in a sudden flare, and he was left swamped in twilight
beside the weathered birch tree. He looked down and found he was
standing on the patch of dried-up blood, but made no attempt to
move.

He heard a voice behind him saying, ‘You may not believe me,
but I had nothing to do with her murder.’

As if a numbing dew had settled over him with the dusk, Gabel
didn’t feel the expected ire, but an unnatural serenity. He didn’t
turn to look at the old man. In the fading light he was breathing
hard, and he saw his own misty breath in the cold. He rubbed the
back of his hands.

‘
You knew she would be killed.’

‘
I did, yes,’ said the speaker. ‘But there are many things that
are mysterious in this world – as you know – and many tragedies.
That you also know, and you knew even before last month. Bethany is
dead, yes, but killed by the theriope, not I.’

‘
How did you know that it would happen at all?’

‘
You called me magus when we first met.’

‘
You can see what’s coming?’ Gabel asked.

‘
Sometimes. Your future is to come with me on a journey. I’ve a
job for you, Mister Gabel.’

The hunter
turned and looked at the man. He dug his fingernails into his palms
and said, ‘What would be the point of such a journey?’

‘
There’s a monster you need to kill.
I can’t tell you
much
. But we will head toward the
distant west, to a city there.’

‘
Shianti?’

‘
Possibly. You’ll be paid after six months.’ The magus looked
up at him through the orange light. His green eyes had strokes of
emotional exhaustion within the mistiness, and the sparkling
freckles upon the man’s cheeks had darkened. ‘By then you should be
on the return journey.’

Gabel looked
over at the church, turning his back on the old man. ‘Bethany’s
still alive in my mind. I have to say my farewells.’

‘
Then say them. There is a lot for us to do between now and
when the world ends.’

*

Two

OUTSET

By the time the sun rose above the flatlands behind the
church, Gabel was leaning against the large tree by Bethany’s
grave. The wind was soft and fast against his face, and he felt hot
under his leather jacket. Finally standing and putting on
his
fedora
, he made his way to the
front doors of the church.

He knocked, and Father answered. He told Gabel that Rowan was
still sleeping, and Gabel agreed to rest inside the church awhile,
until she woke or he felt it was late.

Almost an hour later, he knocked on her door and received no
reply. He slowly entered.

She was quiet
and very still in her bed. Gabel made no move as he stood in the
doorway, until finally he saw her breathe and sit up.

‘
Joseph…’

He hesitated for a second, his anxiety kicking in. ‘Father
did tell you…?’

‘
Yes. I won’t be a minute. You can wait outside.’

~

They lingered
restlessly at the edge of the forest until the magus met them, and
then together they passed out of the sun. When neither Gabel nor
the magus spoke, Rowan stayed silent as well, following obediently
through the trees until they were surrounded by them.

She had packed few clothes – enough to last – and tied her
brown hair loosely back into a ponytail, which hung ragged and
knotted down her back. Thin hung in streamers over her eyes, which
were ringed with darkness. A warmer outfit was rolled up and added
to Gabel’s pack; it looked heavy, but he seemed to have no problem
carrying it.

Silently
through the leaves, the magus walked beside him.

Rowan didn’t know where they were going, or which route they
were going to take. She didn’t know why she was with them, only
that Father had spoken to Joseph quietly in the church the day
before.

She remembered Bethany’s funeral, when she had last seen
Gabel. There had been no words spoken in that quiet hour. Only the
three of them had been present. She had stood beside a tree, and
once in a while she would steady herself by resting a hand on the
gnarled bark. Tears hesitated beneath her brown eyes.

Father had closed the incunabulum and nodded at Gabel, who
had been standing a few metres back from the grave under a great
birch, shadowed from the moonlight. He had his hat pulled low over
his eyes; Father hadn’t seen the tears, but Rowan had.

The night before the departure, Gabel had stayed under the
tree by the grave. Rowan had seen him re-enter the church and speak
with Father. They’d argued briefly before Father questioned him
about the magus’ job offer, and where it might take him. When Gabel
had replied
Shianti
Father blew up.

‘
Joseph, you’ve never considered this place your home, even
after Rebekah, and William, and … and Bethany. But is that any
reason to abandon the allegiances you have here?’

‘
I’ve mourned for Bethany today.’ Gabel had replied. ‘Tomorrow
I work. I don’t have any allegiances here.’

‘
Fine, then. If you leave, then you must take Rowan with you.
She’s desperately ill, Joseph. You know that the best doctors live
in Shianti. Don’t let Rowan die because you wouldn’t take
her.’

‘
Hermeticia will take months to reach,’ the hunter replied,
using the city’s unofficial name. ‘Even if that
is
where I am going.’

‘
That is why you must take her with you. Otherwise, by the time
you get back, she’ll already be dead. We don’t know what her
illness is. Whatever this mysterious job is that you’ve accepted
from this so-called magus, ignore it as you go. Rowan is your true
quest. Save her, Joseph.’

~

In the forest, Rowan turned back toward Niu Correntia, but
already the trees had swallowed them up and the straight spire of
the church could no longer be seen.

‘
There’s a footpath just to our right,’ Gabel said
suddenly.

They followed him through the forest, and after a few minutes
Rowan felt a gravel path crunch under her feet and looked down. It
was worn by rainwater, not boots, and she doubted anybody ever used
this path. People from the town always walked
around
the forest.

A thought occurred to her. ‘Aren’t there dangerous animals in
the forest?’

Gabel looked
around as the magus carried on walking.

‘
I’ll keep us safe,’ he promised. ‘You know I do this thing
often.’

‘
I’ll try to trust you, Joseph,’ she murmured.

She realised then just how little she knew of the hunter. All
she learned of him had been glimpsed through the iron latticework
of the church windows: he was a character coloured by their stained
glass; an image built up both from his reputation as a factotum and
from the Father’s unbreakable trust of the man. Rowan had yet to
see Gabel’s true colours. Bethany used to speak of him often,
usually in an uncertain tone of voice halfway between admiration
and despair. ‘He isn’t even
distant
,’ she had told Rowan once,
‘he’s just not always there.’ They’d both seen him praised for
killing whatever beast was harassing the town, but they’d also
witnessed the hunter half naked by the lamplight, singing
melancholy songs as he staggered from the inn to that dusty little
hovel of his.

Rowan looked again at the hunter. Her eyes followed the rim
of his hat until it disappeared behind the front of his face; he
half turned and she saw the corner of his eye.

She’d seen him once, in a fight in the town square. He had
knocked a man across the face with the back of his fist and roared
something like,
You know why it was
done
! She’d never learned what the
argument was about, nor who the other man was, but – just for a
fraction of a second – she thought she saw Gabel’s eyes spark and
drip red flame. His anger made corporeal.

Turning her attention to the mysterious magus, she saw that
he was old, but seemed to cope well with the walking. He looked
like a traveller, with his heavy boots and ragged coat; however
she, so many years younger, felt exhausted, feet aching, shoulders
slumping, cold in the lack of sunlight. Time had passed since they
left – more than she realised – and she became aware that she’d
been assessing the two men for some hours.

She asked if they might rest, and though the magus protested,
Gabel sat down defiantly on a fallen, moss-covered tree. Rowan sat
on the opposite end and looked about herself at the still woods and
their ivy-laced trees.

Before she had
time to catch her breath, the hunter was sitting next to her. ‘Are
you okay?’

‘
I’m fine.’

‘
Your feet hurt.’

‘
Yes,’ she said.

‘
Your shoes aren’t very suitable. We’ll get you some more when
we reach Pirene.’

‘
The next town?’ she asked, not looking at him. She had no
intention of making herself seem stupid or inexperienced, but she
wouldn’t always be able to avoid such straightforward questions.
She had never left Niu Correntia, as far as her amnesia allowed her
to remember.

‘
That’s right,’ Gabel replied.

‘
How long will it take to get to Shianti?’

‘
A while,’ he allowed. ‘But once we’re there, we’ll get you
better.’

‘
I don’t want to be a burden.’

‘
You won’t be,’ he said absently, peering along the path. ‘Come
on. The old man doesn’t want us resting long.’

They moved until it seemed the forest seemed to grow around
them. Nets of branches parted for them and closed once they had
passed by, and the sparse greenery that sprouted out of the dirt
was either pale as soapsuds or brown as rotten fruit. So little
wildlife, so few birds, as if the giant creatures that roamed the
place had all gathered for a banquet and eaten too much. There
seemed nothing left to refill the desolate burrows and empty
branches.