nothing to diminish the strength and shrewdness of her gaze. Her nose was a sharp beak, her hair a cloud of grey-green fuzz through which her pointed ears protruded. I felt as if she was looking right inside me, into my secret thoughts, and that turned my heart cold. ‘It’s culling time,’ I added, ‘and the Enforcers are around every bend in the road, behind every wall, listening for every careless word. I shouldn’t be talking to you. I should be pretending not to see you.’
There was a brief silence, then Red Cap observed, ‘You set out supper for us.’
‘My grandmother taught me to share,’ I said, tears pricking my eyes. ‘It was a good lesson. She said that even if you think you have nothing at all, there is always something you can give to another. She taught me early to respect your kind.’
If the Good Folk felt any warmth toward me after this, it did not show on their faces. Indeed, most of them were looking at Silver, as if waiting for her lead. Only the green-cloaked woman had her gaze on me.
‘Goodnight to you, Neryn,’ she said. ‘Safe journey.’
‘And to you,’ I replied, wondering how she knew my name.
‘Nowhere is safe,’ said Silver. ‘Not for your kind, not for our kind, not for anyone. In this benighted realm, all is turned to darkness.’
‘The wolves howl,’ put in Long Fingers.
‘The winter bites,’ said Red Cap, and as he spoke, there was a wriggling from the sling on his back, as if whatever was there had burrowed down deeper.
‘King’s men come with cold iron,’ said the crow-like being. ‘They seek out our hidden places.’
‘I know that, and I am sorry for it. If it was in my power to help, I would. But all I can do right now is follow my own path.’
‘You will be cold.’
‘Lonely.’
‘Hunger and thirst will walk the road with you, every step.’
‘The wind will chill you. The rain will soak you. Your shoes will break apart.’
‘Many trials lie before you.’ Even the woman in the green cloak had joined in now. ‘You will be tested to your limit.’
‘Enough!’ I snapped. ‘My father died not long ago, I’ve lost the last of my family, and I’m tired. I’m terribly tired. Stop making me sad and let me sleep.’
They vanished as if they had never been, fading into the stones and the water and the darkness of the forest. I felt instantly ashamed of myself, but when I whispered, ‘I’m sorry,’ there was only the night, and the call of a bird, and silence.
I dreamed the Good Folk were in their circle again, with a furious debate raging among them.
‘Her? A wee lassie with holes in her shoes? You’re off your head!’
‘What about the way she shared her food with us? If that’s not the Giving Hand, then I’d like to know what it is!’ The creature who spoke resembled a small bush, for it was all over twigs and leaves, with eyes like ripe berries set deep in the foliage.
‘Sorrel speaks wisely, as always,’ said the woman in the green cloak. ‘You felt the girl’s presence as we all did, don’t deny it. It was powerful. Compelling. A pull the strongest of us would find hard to resist. It makes no difference if she’s a wee lassie or an old woman of seven-and-seventy.’
‘The Giving Hand?’ A wispy, big-eyed being spoke, its voice all scorn. ‘Easy enough to give when you’ve plenty to spare. Didn’t you see that supply of way-bread? Let’s see how giving the lass is when she’s half-starved and too weak to forage.’
‘And even if you’re right, Sage,’ said a little man in a rattling cape of nutshells, ‘what’s one out of seven?’
Red Cap cleared his throat. Now he was seated by the banked-up fire and he had a miniature version of himself in his arms, up against his shoulder. The infant from the sling; perhaps he was soothing it after a nightmare. ‘It’s a start, that’s what it is,’ he ventured, eyes going from the little woman, Sage, to Silver and back again, as if he were not sure which of them
Learning to Kill: Stories