The Blood Debt by Sean Williams Read Free Book Online Page A

left so small a mark on their world that no one would notice its absence.

    ‘I’ve got it,’ she said, grateful for the opportunity to think about something else. Rummaging in a closet, she wrapped up two small vials in a leather bag and tied her hair in a short pigtail. She picked up her favourite walking stick, one which Sal had carved with simple but potent charms for strength and endurance out of a piece of near perfectly-straight driftwood. The charms sparkled with the Change irrespective of how the light caught them. ‘I’ll be home soon.’

    Outside, the sun had begun its lazy drift across the westward quarter of the sky, and she walked with it at her back. Tom had moved the buggy into the dunes, where it would be less conspicuous, and she gave it a wide berth, even though she had no reason to be afraid of it. Buggies were rare in Fundelry; few travellers used them, and the town’s mechanic spent most of his time repairing fishing boat engines and water pumps. This one was an efficient Sky Warden machine, made of black metal and brooding like a disgruntled spider on wheels. Big enough to hold four, it seemed to glower at her as she passed.

    ‘Be patient,’ she told it. ‘You’ll be on the road again soon enough.’

    Then she was hurrying through the dunes to the rendezvous point, a dry creek bed halfway between the workshop and Fundelry. She went into town only when she absolutely had to, and made sure Sal charmed her appearance thoroughly before she did. Her and Sal’s friends knew how to find them, but no one else did. Or so she had preferred to think.

    Long-limbed Thess and her young son sat under the shade of a spreading eucalyptus, playing a game involving Thess’s hair and the boy’s small fingers. The sound of Gil’s laughter brought a smile to Shilly’s face. Gil’s father had drowned in a fishing accident the year before. The five-year-old had been uncommunicative since.

    ‘I hope you haven’t been waiting long.’ Shilly kissed Thess’s cheek and sat next to them, stretching her bad leg out before her. Gil looked up at her, wide-eyed, then shied away. They were as dark-skinned as herself and Tom; on the Strand, Sal’s light skin was the exception. ‘It’s been a complicated morning.’

    Thess beamed. ‘We’ve had fun. Haven’t we, Gil?’

    ‘Mmm,’ said the boy, discovering a sudden interest in the ants exploring stringy bark on the far side of the tree.

    ‘I have some of the sand I told you about,’ said Shilly, putting the first of the vials into Thess’s lap. ‘Put this in little Gil’s shoes and the itching will go down in a couple of days.’

    ‘Thank you. I —’

    ‘And this one’s for you.’ The second vial contained a yellow powder that shifted smoothly, like a fluid. ‘Half a teaspoon in water every morning and I promise you’ll notice the difference. I tried it last week, and —’ She mimed an explosion of energy.

    ‘Shilly, thanks, but —’

    ‘It’s the least I can do. I know it’s been a long haul for you.’ She pressed Thess to take the vial. ‘I’d advise against taking this forever, but it’ll help get you out of this rough patch.’

    ‘I think I might already be out of it.’ Thess dropped her voice. ‘That’s actually why I called you.’

    ‘Oh?’ Thrown off giving the spiel she had memorised from Lodo’s notes, Shilly stared at her older friend, really looking at her for the first time. Gil wasn’t the only one of the pair sporting a more cheerful demeanour. Understanding suddenly dawned. ‘Not that fisherman!’

    Thess shushed her so Gil wouldn’t overhear. ‘Yes.’

    ‘What was his name? Boone? Boden?’

    ‘Booth. Last night —’ Thess’s voice dropped even further in volume. ‘He stayed all night. I haven’t woken up with a man beside me for an awfully long time. It felt good.’

    Shilly gripped her friend’s hand. ‘I’m glad for you. I am, truly.’

    Thess affected a measure of nonchalance. ‘Oh,