She did not bother with the massive front door, knowing it would be locked, but walked around to the kitchen, which had a bad bolt that could be wiggled loose. As expected, a few good thumps and the door swung open, but it was shockingly dark inside. Briony had never been in the place at night without at least a few lamps glowing, but now it was as lightless as a cave, and for a terrified moment she could not make herself enter. Only the thought of Shaso lying on the chilly dock, suffering, perhaps dying, fi¬nally forced her through the open doorway.
Locked in a cell for months, and it was my fault-mine and Barrick's. She frowned. Yes, and a bit of blame on his own cursed stiff neck as well…
She managed to find her way by touch to the kitchen fireplace, although not without a few unpleasant encounters with cobwebs. Things skittered in the darkness around her-just mice, she promised herself. After some searching, and many more cobwebs, she located the leather-wrapped flint and fire-iron in its niche in the stone chimney with a handful of oil-soaked firestarters beside it. After a little work Briony struck a spark, and soon a small blaze caught in the firestarters, which gave her the courage to knock over a spidery pile of logs and throw on a few of the smaller branches so the fire could begin growing into something useful. She considered setting a fire in the main hall fireplace as well. The thought made her ache with the memory of her lost father, who had always insisted on lighting that lire as his own personal task, but she knew it would be foolish to show light at
the front of the house, on the side facing Southmarch Castle. Briony doubted anyone would see it without looking through a spyglass, even from the castle walls, but if there were any night that Hendon Tolly and his men might be on the walls doing just that, it would be tonight. The kitchen would be refuge enough.
The front of the summer house was still darkly unfamiliar as she went back down the steep path, but the knowledge that a fire now burned in the kitchen made it a friendlier place, and this time she had a shuttered lantern in her hand so she could see where she was putting her feet.
So, we've lived through the first day-unless someone saw the boat and they're coming after us. Startled by the thought, she looked toward the castle, but al¬though she saw a few lights moving on the walls, there was no obvious sign of pursuit by water. And if someone came to search M'Helan's Rock be¬fore she and Shaso could depart? Well, she knew the island and its hiding places better than almost anyone else. But, what am I doing? she asked her¬self. I shouldn't tempt the gods by even thinking such things…
Shaso was able to walk a little, but the two young women had to do most of the work getting him up the stairway; it was a mark of how weak he was, how close to utter collapse, that he did not protest.
When they reached the lodge Briony found blankets to wrap around the old man, then sat him in a corner near the kitchen fireplace, propped on cushions she had pilfered from the over-furnished sitting room known as the Queen's Withdrawing Chamber. The girl Ena had already begun to search through the few odds and ends left in the cupboards in hopes of adding to the food she had brought from her house beside Skimmer's La¬goon, but Briony knew the pantries would be empty. Supper would be dried fish again.
Dried fish was a great deal better than starvation, she reminded herself, but since Briony Eddon had never in her life come anywhere near starv¬ing, that was a purely academic sort of comfort.
After having been fed the first mouthful or two of fish broth, Shaso made it very clear he was going to feed himself. Although still too weary and ill to speak, he managed to get enough soup into his stomach that Briony felt confident for the first time that the old man would survive the night. Now she could feel her own exhaustion pulling at her. She pushed her bowl aside and stared at it, fighting to keep her head upright.
"You,are tired, Highness,"said Ena. Briony could not easily read the girl's expressions, but she thought she saw kindness there, and a surprising, calm strength. It made her feel a little ashamed of her own frailty. "Go and find a bed. I will look after Shaso-na until he falls asleep."
"But you are tired yourself. You rowed that boat all night!"
"It is something I was raised to do, like swimming and mending nets. I have worked harder-and for less cause."
Briony stared at the girl for a moment, at the huge, round dark eyes and the naked brow shiny as soapstone. Was she pretty? It was too hard to say, too many things about her were unusual, but looking at the intelligent gaze and strong, regular features, Briony guessed that among her own kind Ena might be considered pretty indeed.
"Very well," she said, surrendering at last. "You are most kind. I'll take a candle and leave you the lamp. We have bedding in the chest in the hall- I'll leave some out for you and for Shaso."
"He will sleep where he is, I think," said Ena quietly, perhaps to spare Shaso the shame of being talked about like a child. "He should be com¬fortable enough."
"When this is over and the Tollys are rotting on the gibbet, the Eddons will not forget their friends." The Skimmer girl showed no emotion at this, so Briony tried to make herself clear. "You and your father will be rewarded."
Now Ena definitely did smile, even looked as though she might be sti¬fling laughter, which confounded Briony utterly, but she only said, "Thank you, Highness. It is my honor to do what I can."
Puzzled, but too weary to think about it, Briony felt her way to the nearest bedchamber, turned over the dusty bedcover, then stretched out. It was only as sleep dragged her down that she remembered this room had been the one that Kendrick had used.
Come back, then, she told her dead brother, dizzy with exhaustion. Come back and haunt me, dear, dear Kendrick-J miss you so…!
But the sleep into which she fell, tumbling slowly downward like a feather in a well, was impenetrably dark, empty of both dreams and ghosts.
The island was surrounded by fog, but dawn still brought enough light to make the lodge on M'Helan's Rock a familiar place once more-light that slipped in through the high windows and filled the great hall with a blue-gray glow as soft as the sheen on a pearl and made the statues of the holy onirai in their wall-niches look as if they were stirring into life. Even
the kitchen again seemed to be the homely place Briony remembered. Things that she had been too exhausted to notice the night before, the tang of the air, the lonely cries of shearwaters and gulls, the heavy furniture scuffed by generations of Eddon children creating imaginary riding-caravans or fortresses, now made her insides twist with sorrow and longing.
Gone. Every one of them. Barrick, Father, Kendrick. She felt her eyes brim with tears and wiped them angrily. But Barrick and Father are alive-they must be. Don't be a stupid girl. Not gone, just… somewhere else.
Crouched in the heather at the front of the lodge, she stared long and hard back at the castle. A few torches seemed to be moving on the bay at the base of the castle walls-search boats checking the inlets and caves along the shore of Midlan's Mount-but none of them seemed to have ventured any farther from Southmarch. Briony felt a gleam of hope. If she herself had forgotten the summer house, there was a chance the Tollys wouldn't remember until she and Shaso were long gone.
Back in the kitchen she dutifully ate her fish soup, enlivened this time by wild rosemary which Ena had found thriving in the masterless, over¬grown garden. Briony could not be certain when she would eat again, and she reminded herself that even fish soup was noble if it would give her the strength to survive so that one day she could drive something sharp through Hendon Tolly's heart.
Shaso was eating too, if not much more skillfully or swiftly than the night before. Still, his ashen pallor had improved a little and his breathing did not hiss like a fireplace bellows. But most important of all, though his eyes still lay sunken in dark-ringed flesh (which Briony thought gave him the look of an oniron like Iaris or Zakkas the Ragged or some other sun-scorched, wilderness-maddened prophet from The Book of the Trigon), his gaze was bright and intent again-that of the Shaso she knew.