“No,” said Fabian. “The girl was already leaving when I turned up.”
They continued in silence. Above them, trees towered over the road and met in the middle, and Tanya recognized it as the route her mother took whenever she drove to the manor. Through gaps in the hedges they saw a wide expanse of fields and farmland. After another forty minutes they had twice more ducked into the bushes at the side of the road as Rowan paused to navigate the lanes, and Fabian complained that he had torn his shirt.
“Why is it we always end up doing this?” he muttered, pulling brambles from his thick nest of hair. “Skulking about after dark. I thought our skulking days were over—”
“Shh!” said Tanya. “She’s stopped.”
They backed into the hedge, watching as the fox sniffed the air, then vanished into the foliage.
“Where did she go?” Fabian whispered.
They waited, wondering if Rowan would emerge. There was no sign of her.
“She must have seen us,” Fabian said. “She’s waiting for us, I bet.”
“Or maybe she’s taken a shortcut,” said Tanya. “We’re surrounded by fields, she could have gone into one. Let’s just head to where we last saw her. If she has seen us then we may as well confront her.”
They eased out of the hedge once more and headed onward. Tanya kept her eyes fixed on the spot where she thought Rowan had vanished. When they reached it, they poked about for a bit before determining that there was no break in the hedge at that point. Tanya wandered on a little further, watching Oberon for any telltale signs that they were on the right track. He snuffled at the grass and shuffled forward, pulling her closer to some bushes several meters from where Fabian stood.
Up ahead there was a fork in the road, with a weathered signpost informing travelers that Tickey End was twelve miles away, in the direction they had just come from. Tanya viewed it, calculating that she and Fabian must have walked at least three miles from the bus stop.
Then she saw that Oberon had stopped by a gap in the shrubbery and was looking up at her expectantly.
“Fabian,” Tanya whispered. “This way.”
They both pressed into the gap. A short distance across the field, a tumbledown building squatted forlornly. The brickwork was crumbling and part of the roof was missing. A few meters from the ruin stood an old feeding trough and a cluster of trees.
“It must have been used by one of the farms,” Fabian whispered.
“Doesn’t look like it’s used for anything much now,” Tanya whispered back. “Do you think that’s where Rowan’s gone? Why would she go in there?”
“Only one way to find out.” Fabian stepped into the scrubby field and began padding toward the building. He motioned for Tanya to head toward the trees with Oberon. She crept past the shabby building and took cover behind the trough, crouching with Oberon at her side. The trees whispered softly above her, their leaves making a canopy over her head, stopping her from feeling too exposed. From her position she saw Fabian moving silently around the building. The scent of rust from the old trough filled her nostrils.
She saw Fabian stiffen, his back to her. Moments later he crept back and eased himself down next to her.
“What did you see?” she asked in a low voice. “Was she in there?”
Fabian nodded.
“Well, what’s she doing?”
“Just sitting there on the floor, facing the door. She’s taken the coat off and has it draped over herself. From the look on her face, I’m pretty sure she’s waiting for something, or…” He hesitated.
“What?” asked Tanya.
Fabian’s eyes were wide. “I think she’s meeting someone.”
Rowan huddled against the wall of the stone building. The chill of the damp brickwork at her back was giving her the creeps, stirring up memories of the cold, damp cellar once more. She kept her eyes trained upward, watching the moon through the broken roof, and pushed thoughts of the cellar from her mind.
Once or twice she tensed as rustles came from outside. It was not one of them, not yet. It must be some nighttime creature, a fox or badger perhaps. She would know when they arrived. She shivered, breaking her stillness to blow into her hands.
The minutes dragged by, and she grew colder. She got up and began to pace, looking at her watch. Any minute now, they’d start arriving. A noise made her freeze. A footstep, outside.
The door creaked open, barely staying on its hinges, and a man stepped inside. Though the night had stolen his coloring, washing his features in shades of blue and gray, Rowan knew his face well. Dirty blond hair skimmed his shoulders, kept long to conceal pointed fey ears. His eyes were mismatched: one hazel, one green. She heard him draw breath to speak as the door swung shut.
“Well, well,” he said in a low drawl. “Red—you’ve come back to us.”
“Tino,” she replied evenly. “Where are the others?”
Tino came closer. “They’ll be along. Not much point in us getting started until they arrive. I’m sure they’ll want to hear what you’ve got to say for yourself just as much as I do.”
Rowan blinked at the barbed words but said nothing. She concentrated on holding his gaze. To look away would be a sign of weakness, but it was taking everything she had not to. She’d forgotten how intense his stare was, how scrutinized he made her feel. She’d felt that way ever since the very first time she’d met him.
Rowan remembered the smell of fresh mint in the caravan, steaming from the glass of liquid that Tino had passed her. She hadn’t touched—and wouldn’t touch—a drop of it.
“It all depends on how involved you want to get,” he’d told her, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass.
“I’m already involved,” she had replied, clutching her own glass tightly. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get my brother back.”
He knew he had her after that. His swarthy face had broken into a smile, and he had reached for her hand, shaking it. Sealing the words to a promise.
“There are thirteen of us working against them,” said Tino. “We call ourselves the Coven.”
“You’re a coven?” Rowan asked uneasily. “Like… like witches?”
Tino shook his head, his mismatched eyes never leaving hers.
“No, not witches. The word ‘coven’ is older than that. It means ‘gathering.’ ”
“So why are there thirteen of you? Don’t witches’ covens have thirteen members?”
Tino leaned forward. “Forget witches. Can you think of no other significance for that number?”
“The thirteen treasures of the fairy court?”
“Exactly.”
“I don’t see the connection.”
“What happened with the thirteen treasures was the cause of the changeling trade in the first place,” Tino said patiently. “The split into the Seelie and Unseelie Courts was the beginning of it all. There were thirteen members of the original fairy court. And so the Coven has thirteen members, to counteract them. Like the Seelie and Unseelie, we’re divided. Some of us are human, some of us are fey. Each member swears an oath—an oath to serve the Coven to the best of their ability, and to keep it from discovery at all cost.
“It’s a dangerous job,” Tino continued softly. “People come and go. We’re always on the lookout for new… recruits. Those recruits need to be invisible. Nameless. People who are tough and hardy. People who have known loss.” He leaned forward. “People with nothing left to lose. People like you.”
“What do you mean about people ‘coming and going’?” Rowan asked.
“The Coven is hundreds of years old,” Tino replied simply. “And no one lives forever. When old members retire, new ones are recruited.”
“And if people change their minds?” she asked. “What then?”
Tino’s finger paused momentarily in its track around the rim of his glass before starting again, slightly more slowly. “People don’t generally change their minds,” he said softly.
Rowan was jolted from the memory as the ne
xt member arrived. A stocky boy of about her age slid through the door, his sandy hair obscuring his face. He shook it back out of his eyes and stared at her. She waited for the easy smile she knew—the smile with the distinctive chipped tooth—but it did not come.
“Sparrow?” she said hesitantly.
The boy responded with a curt nod and moved closer. Still he did not speak, but now that he was nearer she could smell him, all unwashed clothes and body—the smell of the streets. It was the first time she’d noticed that smell, and with a shock, it hit her: the last time she had seen Sparrow, she had smelled exactly the same as him. Placing his back to Rowan, Sparrow faced Tino.
“Do we know if all the others can make it?”
“Most have confirmed.” A muscle started to twitch in Tino’s cheek. “A couple have gone… quiet.”
“Who—” Sparrow began, but fell silent as two more figures slipped into the building: a petite, sharp-faced girl whom Rowan recognized as the beggar she had met in Tickey End, and a skinny teenage boy with a shock of messy black hair. The girl’s eyes were everywhere—on the faces of the others, their surroundings, taking everything in. Rowan scowled at her.
The boy’s gaze was slower, craftier, but Rowan knew who he was and knew he missed nothing. He set down the slim black case he was carrying, stuck his hands in his pockets, and casually leaned against the wall.
“So who is she?” Rowan asked Tino, nodding toward the girl. “Apart from a convincing actress, that is.”
“She’s called Suki,” said Tino. “She’s been with us for almost a year. She’s Cassandra’s replacement.”
“And she can speak for herself,” Suki retorted in a voice that was as sharp as her features.
Rowan studied her, for the first time wondering who her own predecessor had been. Tino had never volunteered the information.
“We lost contact with Cassandra last summer, in July,” Tino said quietly, and this time Suki did not object to his speaking. “We don’t know whether she’d had enough or whether something… happened to her. No one heard from her, or about her. I started to look out for a replacement. It was around that time that I remembered Suki.”
“You already knew Suki?” Rowan asked. “How?”
“I was taken when I was five,” Suki said, taking over from Tino. “I never thought I’d be coming home… but then Tino found me. He brought me back to my mother.”
Tino nodded. “Suki was recovered by the Coven. Even then, we could see she was special. We could see why she’d been taken. Her gift was so strong—”
He stopped as Suki held up her hand for silence. Her head was tilted to one side, causing her short, white-blond hair to skim her cheek.
“What is it?” Tino asked softly.
Suki’s head straightened, and her eyes narrowed. “Seems one of us has been careless tonight.”
“What do you mean?” Sparrow asked.
Suki’s eyes shifted across all of them in turn. “If I’m not mistaken, we were all told to come alone.”
Tino’s head snapped up. “That’s right. What’s the problem?”
“We’ve been followed.”
Still crouching behind the trough, Tanya began to shiver. The night was none too warm, and the new arrivals were unnerving her.
“Who are these people?” Fabian whispered.
“Only one way to find out,” Tanya replied. “We need to get closer and try to hear what they’re talking about.”
“Or we could just go in and demand to know what’s going on.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. We don’t know who they are or what they want with her—they could be dangerous.”
“Shh,” said Fabian. “Look, over there. There are two more people coming through the field, just about to go in. Look how soundlessly they move.”
“How many is that?” Tanya wondered out loud, once the figures had crept out of sight. They heard the slight scuff of the door opening and closing.
“There’re seven of them in there now, including Rowan,” Fabian said. “How many more will come?”
The door scraped again and three figures came into view at the side.
“They’re leaving!” Fabian hissed.
“We’re going to have to follow them,” said Tanya, beginning to edge out from behind the trough. She stopped when she saw that the figures were walking. “They’re coming this way!”
“Get down and keep quiet,” said Fabian. “We’ll follow once they’ve passed.”
Tanya hunched down behind the filthy trough, pressing her back against it and pulling Oberon toward her. The first they heard of the approaching strangers was the hissing of their breath in the night air and the whispering of their voices.
“… Not far away,” said a girl’s unfamiliar voice. “Nearby… I can sense it.”
Tanya turned to Fabian. His pale eyes were wide. The strangers were too close now, the trough the only thing separating them from Tanya and Fabian. When it was heaved from behind them, both fell back onto the soft ground with a shout, and Oberon ran for the trees, his leash trailing behind him.
Rough hands hauled Tanya up by the shoulder, forcing her to turn around. A hulk of a man held her effortlessly, unaffected by her struggles. Beside her, another man, similar in size to her captor, held Fabian tightly. Tanya’s knees buckled as she saw a huge sword at his side. Both of the men were fey.
A slight girl with white-blond hair stood a little way back.
“They’re only kids, Suki,” the man holding Tanya told her. His voice sounded unusual, and when Tanya looked up she saw that he was missing some of his front teeth. “What are we going to do with them?”
“I don’t care if they’re just kids,” Suki answered abruptly. “They were spying on us and we need to know why.” She jerked her head toward Fabian. “I recognize him—he was with Red when I delivered the message—but it doesn’t explain why he’s here now. Samson, bring them both in. Victor, you go and get the mutt. In a moment or two, it’ll recover its courage, so watch yourself.”
Victor obediently handed Fabian to Samson, who proceeded to drag both captives toward the stone building.
“Who are you?” Fabian said to the girl, but he was shaken silent.
Twisting in Samson’s grip, Tanya saw Victor heading toward the trees, where, sure enough, Oberon had emerged, snarling.
“Don’t you touch my dog!” she yelled just as Samson’s hand shifted from her shoulder to her mouth, cutting her voice off. She managed to catch a glimpse of Oberon bolting toward Victor before Samson steered her in the opposite direction. They stumbled over the uneven field until they reached the door of the barn.
“I’ve got them,” Samson announced.
The door swung open, pushed from within, and Tanya and Fabian were herded through, with Suki close behind. Inside, Tanya saw four others: a man, two boys… and Rowan. She stared at them, plainly horrified.
The door closed behind them as Victor came in last, holding a snapping, growling Oberon at arm’s length on his leash. He handed him to Tanya.
“Calm the dog down.”
“Why should I?” Tanya demanded.
She caught Rowan’s subtle nod and grudgingly took the leash, crouching to put her arms around Oberon. He stopped growling immediately and pressed himself into her, quivering.
Samson guffawed. “After all that—his bark’s worse than his bite!”
The man with the mismatched eyes next to Rowan stepped closer, not joining in with the laughter.
“Who are you? Why were you out there?”
Tanya hesitated. She had no idea what to tell him. Whatever she said could endanger them all—including Rowan.
“They’re with Red,” Suki said, folding her arms.
“They’re my friends, Tino,” said Rowan. “They must have followed me. We can trust them. Just let them go.” She faced Tanya and Fabian and spoke urgently. “You don’t want to get involved in this. Don’t ask me to explain. Go home.”
“I don’t t
hink so,” said Tino. “They’re not going anywhere until we find out what they’re doing here.”
“And we’re not going anywhere until we find out what you want with Red!” said Fabian through clenched teeth.
Tanya glanced at Rowan. Her lack of reaction to being called by her old alias told Tanya that these people knew her as “Red,” and she guessed that Fabian’s use of it had been intentional. Given that the group members were making no effort to conceal their names, she quickly concluded that all of them were using aliases and decided that, for now, it was safer not to use Rowan’s real name.
Tino’s eyes slid over them in assessment.
“At least we agree on one thing.” He turned toward Rowan. “What have you told them?”
“Nothing,” she replied curtly. “I know the rules.”
“Seems you’re not too good at keeping them, though,” Suki put in.
Rowan bristled but continued to direct her words at Tino. “I’ve done my best. But it’s not exactly easy when you send messengers in broad daylight—noticeable messengers. You were asking for trouble.”
“You mean Suki in Tickey End?” Tino asked.
“Of course I mean her. She stuck out like a sore thumb.”
“Red’s telling the truth,” Fabian said quietly. “I was there. It rattled her. We knew something wasn’t right, so we followed her tonight. She never told us a thing.”
“So what do they know about you, Red?” Tino asked. “Because one thing’s obvious.” He tilted his head in Tanya’s direction.
Rowan nodded. “She has the second sight.”
“But the boy…?”
“No. But he knows. He’s used something before, a tonic to allow him to see fairies temporarily.”
“Do they know about your brother?”
A look of pain crossed Rowan’s face but she kept her voice neutral.
“They know everything except my link to you. I kept my word.”
Tino nodded slowly. “And what of your brother?” he asked. “Have you given up on finding him? Or are you so cozy in your nice new home that you’ve forgotten about him?”