Fletcher sat up, looking out into the gloom around their camp.
‘We need to move at first light, put as much distance between us and them as possible. Athena will keep an eye on them, make sure they don’t know we’re so close.’
He looked at his team’s bright fire, then began etching the ice spell in the air. With a pulse of mana, a stream of frost crystals enveloped the wood, casting the camp in pitch darkness.
‘Get some rest,’ Fletcher sighed, settling down against Lysander’s soft underbelly. ‘It might be the last we have for a while.’
As the others pulled blankets from their packs, Othello wriggled in beside him.
‘Trust you to hog Lysander as a pillow,’ Othello whispered. ‘Move over.’
Fletcher shuffled to the side and Othello stretched out beside him. It was comforting to have the dwarf there.
‘Hey,’ Othello said suddenly. ‘What did you end up doing with that gremlin?’
‘I … Er … I let it go,’ Fletcher said.
Othello sighed. ‘I knew you would but … it makes me uneasy.’
Fletcher’s stomach twisted with unease at Othello’s words. He had almost forgotten about Blue, with everything else going on.
‘I’m pretty sure it won’t betray us. And anyway, it was the right thing to do,’ Fletcher replied, not knowing who he was trying to convince more – himself or Othello.
‘Well, I hope you’re right,’ Othello murmured, shifting on to his side. ‘For all our sakes.’
Fletcher took a deep breath, trying to push the doubt from his mind. He already had enough to deal with, without the gremlin to worry about too.
‘You’ve been brooding all day …’ Othello said under his breath, so that the others couldn’t hear. ‘Anything else on your mind?’
Fletcher paused. He knew they should be sleeping, but he was sure he would be up all night thinking of Athena’s infusion dream. Maybe it would help to talk about it.
‘I saw my parents die,’ Fletcher murmured.
‘You remember it?’ Othello asked.
‘No … I saw Athena’s memories. You know, from infusing her,’ Fletcher replied, as tears welled in his eyes. ‘They were so happy, and then … It was horrible.’
‘Oh …’ Othello whispered. He paused.
‘I’m sorry.’
Silence. Then Othello spoke, his voice throaty with emotion.
‘Did you know I had another sister?’
‘No,’ Fletcher said, creasing his brow. Had?
‘Essie was born when Atilla and I were three, two years before my mother became pregnant with Thaissa and the laws were relaxed. We had to keep her hidden – dwarves were only allowed one child back then, and what with Atilla and I being twins we had already got away with two on a technicality. We kept her underground, hid her under the floorboards when the Pinkertons did their inspections. But when Essie was one year old she got sick … really sick. So we took her to a doctor, a human.’
Othello stopped, and Fletcher saw his friend’s face was wet with tears.
‘He called the Pinkertons, Fletcher, and they took Essie away from us. We don’t know where. A few weeks later they told us she had died from the illness. Just like that – she was gone. They never even returned her body.’
Fletcher reached out and laid a hand on Othello’s shoulder.
‘I’m so sorry that happened to you, Othello. To your sister. To your family. I can’t imagine how that must feel.’
‘We never talk about it,’ Othello said, wiping his tears with his sleeve. ‘Thaissa doesn’t even know. But if I had the chance to know what really happened to her – to hear her laugh, to see that smile one more time – I’d do anything for it.’
Fletcher knew he was right. It had been a blessing – to see his parents, know their voices, their faces. What had happened to them was a tragedy, and the truth of their death was painful to know … but necessary.
Above him, Lysander turned his head and stared down at Fletcher’s tear-streaked face. Gently, he raised a talon and brushed Fletcher’s cheek, the movement too human for the demon to do alone. Then he laid a wing on top of them, like a blanket. Fletcher knew that Lovett was watching over them.
‘Thank you for sharing that with me, Othello,’ Fletcher whispered. ‘I’ll remember it.’
30
It was early morning, and the team were moving at a fast pace through the jungle. They were even more careful than before to cover their tracks, but fortunately the trail they were on was regularly used by the jungle animals, confusing the ground with dozens of different claw and hoof prints.