‘A phoenix?’ Annev said, turning it over once more.
‘Could be, could be,’ said Crag, shovelling another spadeful onto the dying flames. The small camp plunged into darkness, the cart and pedlar now only dimly lit by the light of the stars and half-moon filtering through the forest canopy. Crag walked back to the cart and stowed the spade. ‘I’m not certain, though,’ he continued, not missing a beat. ‘You see, the carvin’ isn’t finished yet.’
Annev scooped up his blankets and carried them and the block of wood over to Crag. ‘Then you should finish it.’
‘I shall, but tonight we need its light.’ Annev looked down at the carving then back at Crag, and the man snorted. ‘It’s a riddle box. Figure it out.’ He threw the blankets over the back of the wagon and tucked the corners in, covering his wares and securing the loose articles on top of the load. As he did so, Annev studied the carving, no less perplexed.
‘Solved it yet?’ Crag said, returning.
‘I’m not sure what I’m supposed to figure out. Does it open?’
‘No. It does something greater than that.’ The pedlar took the block of wood in his hands, pressed on a hidden mechanism, and pulled. Pale yellow light streamed from the carved feathers.
‘Silver staves!’ Annev exclaimed, startled. ‘It’s magic. Real magic.’
Crag chuckled. ‘No, it’s a trade secret.’ He touched the side of his nose with his index finger and winked. ‘When you press certain parts of the wood in a certain way, certain things happen. Just now we need light to see where we’re goin’, and I hate torches. All that black smoke and stink.’ He handed the glowing block of wood back to Annev. ‘You’re the guide. Lead me out of here – and don’t think for a minute you’re off the hook just ’cause you saved me life.’ He cackled and then heaved up the draw-bar before sliding underneath and behind it. Annev started to duck beneath the rail as well.
‘Stop right there,’ Crag said, holding up a hand. ‘Your arm’s still healin’. Let it rest. I can pull me own cart, especially when I don’t have a grown boy lyin’ atop it. Lead on.’ Crag heaved his paunch against the rail and the heavy cart rolled forward. Annev walked alongside him, holding the carved block of wood aloft to light the way.
‘You should hang that on the front of the cart,’ Crag said, nodding to the carving. ‘I’ve some nettle-hemp under that corner of the blanket. Pull it round the bird and hang it from that hook.’ Annev reached under the cart’s blanket and extricated a small net of woven hemp. ‘You should also grab a quarterstaff while you’re back there,’ Crag advised. ‘If we come across another wood-witch, I don’t want to be caught unawares.’
‘Where are the staves?’
‘On the far right side.’
Annev walked alongside the rolling wagon as he rummaged beneath its blanket. When he touched a staff, he peered inside and stopped. ‘There’s a sword back here!’ he said, surprised. ‘Do you want that instead?’
Crag shook his head. ‘The staff is fine for me. You can carry the blade for yourself if you like. It’s more rust than metal, I fear, but it’s sharp.’
Annev pulled the staff and a worn cutlass from the back of the cart, then hefted the latter in his right hand. The blade was a heavy thing, perhaps three spans long and half a span wide; it carried no sheath, possessed no crosspiece and lacked any ornamentation. The narrow cup guard had been broken at some point, and both it and the rest of the hilt had been wrapped in a multi-coloured mix of rags – brown sackcloth overlapping white lace, slashes of green and blue tied to strings of yellow and ribbons of red. Rust pitted the blade, and the edge was chipped in several places, but when Annev tested his thumb against it, he felt the metal catch against his skin, razor sharp.
‘Where did you get it?’ Annev asked, tucking the sword into his belt and jogging up to rejoin the merchant.
‘Off a Reotan pirate in Sterklin. Had the scurvy somethin’ fierce, so I traded him a few lemons for it.’ The cart rolled to a halt and Crag stopped to look around while Annev hung the phoenix lantern in its mesh netting.
‘This is where I called it quits,’ Crag said. ‘The path disappears up ahead. It’s all scrub and underbrush.’ He turned, nodding in the opposite direction. ‘But that’s the way we came from, which I guess is north-west.’
Annev studied the trail. ‘Was there a fork in the road about a mile back?’
Crag nodded. ‘I turned right.’
‘We’re still on the correct path then,’ Annev said. ‘If we go straight through that scrub, the trail will pick up again.’ Crag nodded and got the cart rolling once more. Annev tucked Crag’s staff beneath his arm and strolled beside the pedlar. As he walked, his right hand drifted down to his belt, to the cutlass at his hip. The sword Sodar had given him – Mercy – was a beautiful silvery thing, polished so brightly that Annev could see his reflection in the steel. But Annev doubted he would ever unsheathe it again. Even if he somehow passed Tosan’s test, the headmaster had forbidden him from seeing Sodar and he couldn’t take the sword with him into the Academy, so it was unlikely he would ever see Mercy again. Worse, if he were made a steward, he’d probably never be allowed to touch another weapon.
But this was a real pirate’s sword. He’d never carried live steel like this, out in the open. Annev grasped the colourful hilt, imagining its history.
‘What’s the ocean like?’
Crag jerked the cart forward, flattening a shrub in his path. ‘It’s big. Wet. Salty. Full of fish.’
Annev watched as the shadows of the forest trees grew and shrank under the dim light cast by the phoenix lantern. He sighed, letting go of the cutlass. ‘I’ll never get to see it.’
A black shadow flitted across the edge of his vision.
‘Did you see that?’ Annev said, whirling to follow the darker shape amidst the black forest. His hand instinctively shot back to the sword hilt as Crag slowed the cart to a halt.
‘See what, lad?’ The merchant peered into the trees.
‘It was a shadow … one that moved.’
‘An animal?’
Annev pulled the phoenix carving from its mesh netting then held it aloft, gazing intently into the darkness. He saw nothing.
Crag reached for the light. ‘Needs to be brighter,’ he said. He pulled the two ends, twisting them in opposite directions, and the diffuse light surrounding the block condensed into a single, brilliant cone blazing from the phoenix’s eye.
‘Incredible,’ Annev said, genuinely impressed. ‘You’re sure it’s not magic?’
‘If I said it was, would some monks in red pyjamas come to steal it from me while I slept?’ Annev smiled, though he knew there was more truth to Crag’s jest than he realised. ‘Think of it as high art,’ Crag said, shining the light into the trees, illuminating a thick clump of bushes and the boar that had been hiding there. ‘It’s not magic when you know how it works.’
‘Well, how does it work?’ Annev said, his eyes following the beam of light.