Deri watched Henry and the hounds, her face rapturous. Thinking myself undetected, I studied the disturbingly pale features when her neck slowly swiveled, and our gazes locked.
“So far from home, Biddie girl,” she chirruped in a childish voice. “Did ye like little Deri’s present? Biddie lady got sent away so ye could have it tonight.”
My eyes narrowed. “What present do you mean?”
The girl gave a squeal of laughter that scraped against my spine. “Madness in the head, beat her till she’s dead.”
Her words erupted like thunderclaps in my ears. “Holy mother!” I whispered. “You split that man’s mind apart.” You killed Jenny.
Her pink lips parted in maddening glee, revealing two perfectly formed rows of small white teeth. “Aye, Biddie girl, I muddled his head.” She swept her ragged skirts in a clumsy curtsey.
I made a sudden move toward her, driven by a similar impulse as when a spider comes too near for comfort. Emitting another squeal of laughter, she spun on her heel and skipped into the darkness, snippets of singsong trailing behind her.
“Madness in the head...”
Henry grunted, and I turned just in time to see his sword bite deep into the neck of a hound. Farther down, two men entered the lane, each carrying a lantern and dressed in the Fitzalan livery. They yelled out to Henry, who looked up once the hound hit the ground, its white fur heavily mottled with mud and blood. The other wounded hound had yet to move from where he’d been thrown against the building. The two remaining creatures took no notice of the approaching men as they continued to prowl just out of sword reach.
“Beat her till she’s dead...”
The footmen were now close enough to provide ample light and support for the fight. “Stay here,” I told Ellen.
Gripping the lantern, I lifted my skirts and went after the wretch. The lane twisted and turned like a corkscrew, and I would have soon lost my way if not for her little verse, which she repeated every few seconds.
The lane narrowed even more, and I nearly tripped over a drunken man, who sat propped against a barrel with a bottle resting in the crook of one arm. Regaining my footing, I caught sight of the girl as she disappeared down an alleyway. Her words drifted back to me, the resonance somewhat altered from before.
“Beat her till she’s dead...”
I rounded the corner to discover the cause for the different sound. Two lodgings sat on opposite sides of the alley, their second floors jutting out to create a tunnel of sorts. I darted in without a second thought, determined to stop Deri. My light found the ghostly faces of several ragged young men huddled together in a doorway. They looked like a gang of pickpockets and cutthroats, and any other time I would have been terrified to be so close in the dead of night. The men hardly gave notice as they stared after young Deri, cold fear shining in their eyes.
The alley opened into what appeared to be a large square. Tall wooden buildings bordered the space on all sides with a handful of lanes leading back into the maze from which I had just emerged. Deri had ceased singing the dreadful verses. The soggy patter of her footsteps had also stopped. The tenements were deathly still other than the repetitive drip of rainwater that rolled from the roofs and gutters.
Holding the lantern straight out, I slowed my gait to a cautious pace. A stone well came into view, the foundation circled by tufts of grass and weeds. Thick brown rope trailed down from a rickety windlass to the slated bucket that sat upright on the rough stone ledge. A shadow shifted from behind the well, moved toward me with an eerie lightness of step. The air turned frigid, and my skin prickled with cold.
Deri stopped just out of reach. The threadbare shawl had slipped from one shoulder, and the loose end trailed in the mud behind her. “There yeh be Biddie girl,” she chirruped. “Did yeh like our skip along? Poor Deri had to creep like a tortoise for yeh to keep up.”
Poor Deri was a cold-blooded killer, and at that moment I wanted nothing more than to wrap the shawl around her scrawny neck till the pale skin turned dark as a plum. And I may have regardless of the inevitable burns if the girl weren’t so quick on her feet, and almost sure to escape.
“Can’t recall when I’ve had a pleasanter time,” I said, matching her tone in an attempt to buy more time. “Do you often skip through the rookeries? Or is tonight a special occasion?”
She shrugged and twisted a toe in the mud. “The folks in here is weak from need, and little Deri likes to play with the children.”
“Like you played with Jenny?”
A malignant grin curled on her mouth. “Aye, she be the most fun of all.”