“Helga!” Bad Bone shouted after the old friend who had once made him his fine wooden longbow. “Helga! Wait!”
“Hush, old scout!” a Goat standing near Bad Bone muttered, emphasizing the comment with a sharp jab in Bad Bone’s ribs. “You don’t dare acknowledge the expelled ones.”
Until that moment, Bad Bone had not known the content of the proclamation scrolls he carried to the Messenger Jays for delivery. The High One’s decree was known only to the Keepers of the Light until it was made public on Clear Water’s Day. Bad Bone had not returned in time to hear it read.
“The Wood Cows expelled?” Bad Bone asked the Goat. “How can this be? What have they done? Surely the foolishness of one Wood Cow does not condemn the rest to suffer?”
“Old scout,” the Goat replied in a hoarse whisper, “you dare not raise such questions too loudly. It’s dangerous. Let it be good enough to be a hero for rescuing these beasts from the Jays. Let the rest of it be as it will!” The Goat’s harsh look made Bad Bone grow quiet.
The sudden feelings of shame and sorrow he felt were lost on the Goat and the rest of the happy revelers. Bad Bone, however, no longer joined in the joyful partying with the same gusto as before. His horror at having participated so significantly in a deep wrong against his old friend could not be easily shaken off. Feeling small and weak, as if his great strength was ebbing away, Bad Bone walked slowly away from the revelry, wanting to pour out his tears in private.
Last Night at O’Fallon’s Bluff
Swish-luckt...swish-luckt...The unmistakable footsteps on the stone walk outside her cottage made Helga jump for the door. Even before the visitor knocked, she had already flung the door open.
Pulling her friend inside, Helga hurriedly shut the door and turned the lock. “Bad Bone! What are you doing here?” she asked urgently. Her troubled face showed additional signs of worry. “Are you insane? If his High Fropperdaftness knew you were here, your life wouldn’t be worth a grain of sand! We are officially declared enemies of the king—anyone who comes near us is in great peril. You shouldn’t have come!”
Bad Bone put a finger to his lips, urging quieter voices. “But you’re still glad I came, aren’t you?” he whispered.
The smiling, hopeful face of her friend had its affect. “O.K., so I’m glad to see you,” she admitted. “But you’re still insane to be here. You might’ve been seen.”
“No one saw me,” Bad Bone replied in a low voice. “It’s dark as pitch, and I kept to the back ways.” He paused and put his arm around her shoulders. “I saw you leaving the High Seat after the decree was read. I called after you, but you didn’t hear me. I’ve been wanting to come...” his voice trailed off. He looked down at the floor for some seconds, saying nothing more.
“I had to come,” he continued. “I couldn’t let you leave without telling you how sorry I am about what has happened. I had to be with you and Breister on your last night in the Hedgelands. It’s taken me a long time to get up my courage to come, but I had to see you before you left.”
“We leave at dawn,” Helga replied. “Papa’s in the workshop, packing our tools.” She motioned at the jumble of chests, barrels, and satchels scattered around the room. “You can see we’re mostly ready to leave. We’ve been preparing for departure almost non-stop for weeks. There’s been so much to do.”
“It’s been so many weeks; you didn’t expect to see me, did you?” Bad Bond asked.
“I can’t believe anyone would come,” Helga replied. “Especially the High One’s celebrated courier. Your mission to the Jays, and the rescue of those poor beasts, is the talk of the market and taprooms.” Helga gave her friend a kind look full of understanding. “You did as you were asked, not knowing what you were doing,” she said simply.
Bad Bone could scarcely believe how good those words sounded. “I’m not”—the uncertainty lingered in his voice—“an outcast here? I’m still welcome at your hearth?”
“We’re all outcasts here,” Helga said grimly. “If you’re here, you’re marked as an outcast by the High One. Even if you’re never officially expelled, in coming here you’ve chosen to join us in our fate. Because of this, you’re forever our friend.” She gave Bad Bone a friendly smile.
“I brought you some information that may help you,” the Lynx offered.
“What is it?” Helga asked.
“I know some of the High One’s officers,” Bad Bone began. “One of them has got a loose lip—talks more than he should. I learn a few things that most beasts will never know...I’ve heard about safe routes beyond the Hedge.”
“Come, sit down,” Helga invited warmly. “I’ll bring you a drink and we can talk a while.”