Read Online Raven Flight by Juliet Marillier - Free Book Online Page B

grandmother was a wise woman; what she taught me went into the making of this. Eva, who is expert at sewing, helped me. And every person who lives at Shadowfell—every human—contributed something. A strand of hair. A thread from a favorite garment.”
    “We offer it as a token of thanks and respect,” Regan put in. “I hope our meeting will be one of amity and goodwill. Please come into our hall. The human folk of Shadowfell are gathered for our council. Afterward, we invite you to share our midwinter feast.” He did not ask them for their names. I had warned him that the Good Folk were slow to reveal such details, especially to humankind.
    “I tellit ye,” the whisper from somewhere among the Northies was all too audible, “nae guid can come o’ this. Soon as we’re in this ha’ the fellow mentioned, they’ll be shuttin’ the doors, and it’ll be a wee knife in the back for every last one o’ us.”
    “You will be safe here,” Regan said. “We have no reason to wish you ill. If not for your support and generosity, we could not have made our base at Shadowfell. Now we seek your wisdom; hence the council. Will you come?”
    The Northies entered warily. Our own folk, who had moved back to stand around the walls so our smaller guests could sit in the center on the blankets, did their best to look calm, but even though I had warned them, the sight of the more unusual beings made brows lift and eyes widen. Whispering went around the chamber.
    Our visitors seated themselves in a circle. At Regan’s nod, our own people formed an outer circle. Sage and Red Cap sat on either side of me, with Fingal and Regan next. The five tiny folk were in front of us.
    I made a quick count and found that there were exactly as many Northies in the chamber as rebels. We had two on door guard; but perhaps they did too. I did not see the being that had challenged Sage and me on the day I called the Folk Below.
    There was a silence. Perhaps Regan was waiting for me to speak; I had thought he would address the visitors first. Then the little woman of the Northies, who had given the ritual greeting, rose to her feet. “We’re no’ here altogether o’ our ain free will,” she said, looking at Regan, then at me. “Ye ken that, I expect. ’Tis not our way tae mingle wi’ humankind, nor tie ourselves up in your disputes and difficulties. There’s twa things have drawn us tae your council. First, the Caller; we canna ignore her voice. Second, we had a visitor. No’ the Caller or the Westie. Another visitor, frae the north. Trouble’s brewin’. The Master o’ Shadows is up and walkin’, and him that should be keepin’ the Master in check canna be woken frae sleep. Seems the time for bidin’ awa’ and waitin’ for the shadow tae pass ower is gone.”After a pause, she said, “Because o’ that, I’ll dae what we seldom dae, and gie ye some names tae make this simpler. I’m Woodrush. This is Hawkbit”—she gestured toward the wee man with cobweb hair—“and that is Pearl-Wort.” She pointed to the catlike being. “And now,” Woodrush said, “ye can tell us why that fighter o’ yours, the one wi’ the pretty patterns on her skin, isna sittin’ doon like the rest o’ ye, but standin’ there wi’ her staff in her hand, ready tae sweep around and fell the lot o’ us.”
    Tali was standing in the shadows behind Regan. The other female fighters had changed their clothing for the winter feast—even Andra was in a gown—but Tali still wore her trousers, tunic, and boots.
    “I’m doing the same thing that fellow of yours is,” she said crisply, using the staff to indicate the tall Northie, the one who somewhat resembled a badger. He stood on the opposite side, in a position that exactly mirrored hers. She was guarding Regan; he was stationed behind Woodrush, Hawkbit, and Pearl-Wort. “Protecting what’s most precious.”
    “Oh, aye?” Woodrush’s gaze was searching. “Wouldna that be your spears and