The cavern wound upwards, and the path became stairs hewn from stone. The stairway widened out just enough for some of Menys’ fear to melt away, though she still suffered a jolt of alarm every time she opened her eyes. Being slung across broad shoulders helped alleviate the terror, but only a little. Rhas was a solid reassurance in the echoing dark of the cavern. He had both arms around her thighs, holding her firmly to him. Here and there she could see the entrances to other caves, and surmised there must be a whole warren of them under Tarnbreck. She’d been inside the Forest but once, when travelling through to Karon when she was little. Her father had never taken that route again. She’d never asked why, just assumed it was the same fear of the place that she’d felt; a brooding, malicious presence that lurked among the trees, so that not even the sunlight and heat of a summer’s day could disperse it. She’d come to the conclusion that Tarnbreck was haunted, assumed her father knew it too, and left it that. She’d never heard of anyone living in such a terrifying place.

A horrible thought occurred to her – that it was these very people who’d given the Forest its frightening aura.

‘It’s not much farther,’ said Rhas, sensing her fear. ‘Don’t throttle me, for Nol’s sake! I won’t drop you.’

‘How do I know that?’ she squeaked. She cursed herself. She’d meant to sound outraged, not terrified out of her wits.

‘If I set you down, will you topple over the edge in hysterics?’

‘I...I won’t. I think.'

He put her down then, holding her waist to make sure she was steady before turning and starting off up the stairs again. ‘As I said, it’s not much farther. Keep the wall and you'll be fine. Just watch your step - some of the stairs are at different levels, just in case anyone should invade this far.'

'Trip-steps?'

'Exactly.'

She could feel his gleefully wicked grin warm the cavern walls, and relaxed enough to put one foot forward, then another, and another, until she'd got the hang of climbing stairs made to tip unwary and unwanted guests into endless darkness.

They climbed for what seemed another mile to Menys’ shaking, aching legs. She began to pant and huff her way upwards, unused to such exertion. She could have climbed the stairs all day in House Willow and not climbed half the number there were here. Just as she thought her legs were about to give way and topple her over the edge, the stairs came to an abrupt end before a doorway. Menys stared at the tall arch, taller than two men, carved from the stone. It looked as though a vampire stone-mason had made it: grotesque heads adorned its apex, with trailing tentacles of some scaled, clawed creature twining downwards around the frame.

Menys’ heart thundered in her breast, and not just from the climb. Who were these people??

Rhas muttered a single word, then stepped through the door, vanishing into the darkness beyond. Even his mage-light winked out, leaving Menys and Rosa in pitch black for a breath, before Rosa snapped her own fingers and lit a small patch of darkness around them.

‘I’m not as accomplished as he is,’ she said apologetically, holding up her little candle-flame. Her mouth twisted in rueful humour. ‘Too many children, they say. You lose your magic if you drop more ‘n three brats. I’ve had six.’

‘Where are they? Do they live here…?’

‘Two live with their father in Karon, and three are dead, and one is…I don’t know.’ Rosa’s face darkened. ‘I suspect she was taken by Limean pirates, but I’ll probably never know. Best not ask me any more on the matter, scamp. I won’t answer you.’

‘Very well.’ Menys decided she didn’t want to ask, anyway. Was she supposed to care about these people?

Outlaws, her mind corrected her. They’re outlaws, outcasts, criminals. Otherwise, why live like this?

Rhas appeared through the door again. ‘Hurry up,’ he said. ‘I can’t hold the wards off all night!’

Rosa gave Menys a prod, and they went through the tall stone door and into the dark beyond.

……………..

Menys blinked in the golden glow of the lamps that lit the room beyond the door. It wasn’t a particularly large room, not like a throne room or banqueting hall, but easily as large as a castle kitchen. A long, rough-hewn table dominated the centre of the room, with two long benches either side. Along one wall were shelves and shelves of what looked like apothecary jars, though she couldn’t read the labels – she recognised the stylised script of the Karoni mage language. A range-oven, brown with grease, took up another wall. Tall arched windows took up the third wall. Leaded panes held pale greenish-grey glass, with here and there a chip of a more blueish colour, and yet others with a more vibrant, greener hue, giving the whole the effect of being underwater. The same tentacled carvings wound around the frames. Giant, warped octopus heads adorned the apex of each arch, three in total.

There were others there besides Rhas and Rosa. Menys saw two Karoni faces, and one fellow Duhnosian, his golden hair so long he was sitting on it. His eyes were crescents of liquid blue as he stared at her, his thin, firm lips unsmiling.

Rosa poked him. ‘Manners, Adharan.’ She ushered Menys to the table and sat her down. To one of the Karoni men she said, ‘fetch us ale and cheese, Laurentus. We’re famished.’

Laurentus, a slight man with long black hair and upswept black eyes in a pale-ochre face, winked at Menys, and went to fetch a platter of bread and cheese and half a leg of something Menys hoped was lamb. He set it on the table along with a jug of cold ale and several battered pewter tankards.

Rosa introduced the other Karoni man as Haniven, and the blond Duhnosian as Adharan. Haniven smiled warmly at Menys, but Adharan did not, and sat in sullen silence, staring into his tankard of ale while Haniven and Rhas exchanged reports from Wayland.

‘And where is Gael?’ Rosa demanded, looking round.

‘He’s sleeping,’ said Haniven. Menys couldn’t interpret the look he gave Rosa. He cleared his throat. ‘There’s worse, Rosa. I…we…when we tried to leave the town by the East gate, we…they’d…they’d strung Louen up…’

He faltered, his eyes downcast, but not before Menys had seen the glint of tears on his lashes.

‘I saw the same,’ said Menys quietly, into the sorrowful silence. She clasped her hands in her lap and fiddled with the hem of her dress.

‘You knew Louen?’ Adharan’s voice was sharp. ‘How?’

‘I was a scullery girl at the brothel he worked at. But…how is it that you…’

Adharan swung one leg back over the bench, straddling it,  and scooted up to her, taking her face in his hands. His eyes bored into her. Such an intense scrutiny could not be endured for long. Menys fought not to shrink and twist from him. His hands tightened.

Rosa touched her shoulder. ‘Don’t struggle,’ she advised, gently. ‘He’ll have what he wants, so just sit tight and let him and it won’t hurt.’

That, to Menys’ somewhat brothel-jaded ears, sounded like some shit she’d heard a client say to a whore he wanted to beat, before she’d complained to Madam and Madam had thrown him out.

Adharan didn’t look like that sort, but she knew by now that looks weren’t any indication. Some of the prettiest clients had been some of the most monstrous. Her heart contracted as she thought of the complaint she’d made to Master Louen about it once. His caramel-brown eyes had hardened in grim displeasure, his fists clenched by his hips, his vow to eviscerate any man he caught wanting to treat a woman like that sounding like sweet winter bells in her ears.

Adharan dropped his hands and sat back. He looked at her properly now, his frost-blue eyes softer. ‘Well, there’s a thing. Not only did you know Louen, but you were close.’ He cupped her chin in one hand. ‘Can you tell us anything about his death – anything that led up to it? Were you there when they took him?’

She shook her head, mute with sorrow. ‘I wasn’t there. I’d already left, knowing that the General was on his way. I…’

‘You didn’t warn him?’

‘He wasn’t there when I got wind of it myself. I didn’t think he needed to be warned.’

‘Where was he, then?’

‘I don’t know.’ She shook her head. Louen had never not been there when she’d risen in the morning. After a couple of weeks at the brothel, she'd taken to rising earlier than she needed to, just so she could go and bother him for ten minutes before she was kept busy in the scullery. She often didn't see him again until mid-morning, when she could snatch a few moments' respite and bring him back his freshly-ironed napkins.

‘He was at the market meeting Gael,’ said Haniven. He was straddling the bench and picking at a gap in his teeth with a sliver of bone. He nodded at Menys. ‘He came once a month to meet us. Didn’t you know?’

‘No. He didn’t tell me that…’ 

‘Don’t take it to heart, scamp,’ said Rosa. She offered a kind, wobbly smile. ‘He wouldn’t have dared trust you – not because he thought you weren’t t be trusted, but because there was always the risk of capture. The less anyone not involved knew, the safer they were.’

Menys chewed her lip and thought: but the General was there to catch me. Not Louen. And Louen knew nothing about me and died anyway. How safe was I really, not knowing who he was?

She wrapped both hands around her tankard and drained it. She wished there was something stronger to lace it with: maybe some of her father’s Karoni fire-spirits, or the Limean ice-water. Both were strong enough to fell a man with half a cup. She’d have happily downed a jug of it and given herself up to a three-day stupor.

‘Come,’ said Rosa, rising. ‘No sense in getting morbid. Come and see the Eyrie!’

The strange mountain-top dwelling they showed Menys around was half castle, half cottage. Set into the side of the mountain on one level, there were two more floors atop the mountain under the sky. Besides the kitchen on one floor, there were two store-rooms and an armoury, and a narrow staircase to the next floor. This appeared to be the bedroom, with beds lining the wall, like a dormitory. The place was a mess. Clothes were dumped in piles, and boots and belts and other gear lay strewn around in an untidy pickle that made Menys wonder how long it had really been since Master Louen had set foot in there. She was sure he would never tolerate this. He hated so much as a cup being out of place. She had half a mind to beat them over the room with a broom and berate them for disrespecting his memory with so much mess.

The third floor opened out into a large room with arched windows on three sides, all like the ones in the kitchen. At one end was a large and ornate seat, high-backed and clearly carved by the same stonemason who’d made the windows and that strange and horrifying arched door. A blue cushion sat upon it, and the stained-glass back glowed with eerie underwater visions.

‘The Lord’s seat,’ smiled Rosa, crossing the room to it and making a small bow to the throne.

Menys watched as Haniven and Laurentus did the same, and then Adharan followed, beckoning her with him. She obeyed, not wanting to upset her new masters, but afraid of not understanding what it was she was doing. Whichever god they were genuflecting to, she had not heard of him.

They didn’t bother to tell her, either, but took her around the windows. She could see over Tarnbreck to Karon, and to Wayland, grey smoke still curling in faint wisps in the North and the South-West. Had they cut Master Louen down? Or had they left him to swing in the wind, food for crows?

She felt sick as she thought of that.

‘They burned House Willow, did you know?’ Adharan said softly, coming to stand beside her. ‘If you got free, you might not have known.’

‘I didn’t,’ she whispered. She hated that he could read her mind. She’d never heard of a mind mage before. He must have been using some other magic. Perhaps it had been in the ale. She did feel a little light-headed, come to think of it.

But if House Willow had burned, that meant no-one left to cut Master Louen down.

She made up her mind. ‘I want to go back for him.’

‘We’ll go back for him,’ he said, just as grimly. He gripped her shoulder, and she knew that he was far from being the surly, sullen man she’d first thought him.

Haniven and Rosa came to stand with them, gazing across the Forest at Wayland in the distance. ‘Somebody has to pay for that,’ said Rosa.

‘We knew it would come to this, one day,’ Haniven added. ‘I just didn’t think it would be Louen we would be going back for.’

‘Well, first things first,’ said Rosa briskly, ‘and no-one’s going anywhere tonight anyway. Rhas, can you heat water? I want to get my new pet scamp here cleaned up before she can bed down with us. Nol’s arse, but you stink like a sewer, girl! How could Louen stand to be in the same room as you?’