searched for the oldest hinds, so old their hides were greying. They had protected many years of young, and would be the first to bolt if they suspected danger. The most alert hind was on the top edge of the herd, keeping watch with her wide-set eyes and swivelling ears.
If Pearl and Thomas were to get round the herd unnoticed, they would have to stay under the line of sight, stay silent, and stay out of the downward air current above the herd so their scent didn’t reach that alert hind.
If they took the easy path, back to the left and up the side of the burn, they would be hidden by the gully, but eventually they’d have to cut across through the air current. So instead they would have to go to the right, with nothing to use as cover except the thin heather. They would have to move very slowly. Would Thomas have the patience to do that?
She crawled back towards him. He was no longer lying on his back like a cat in the sun; he was low on his stomach, his dark eyes watching her. Alert, but not like the deer watching for danger; like a predator waiting for its prey to come close.
Was she his prey?
Pearl was accustomed to being the hunter, to tracking and stalking, shooting and gralloching. She wasn’t used to feeling watched and afraid.
She urged herself forward. She may not be on familiar land here, but she was used to being outdoors. Thomas spent nine months of the year at an English school. He couldn’t possibly be as comfortable and skilled on moors and mountains as she was. He was no danger to her.
She moved slowly towards him, staring back at him until he blinked. Then she lay down beside him, and put her mouth to his ear. “There’s an alert hind at the top of the herd, and the air is moving down the Anvil. We have to go back down a hundred yards, and up the glen to the right of them. We have to be slow and quiet.”
He shook his head. She turned away so he could whisper in her ear. His breath was hot. “That will take far too long!”
“Any other way will startle them,” she insisted.
“If you know so much about deer, can’t you just cast a spell on them so we can walk right through the herd?” he whispered through gritted teeth.
“No. This isn’t magic, it’s skill. If we don’t do it right, they’ll tell the whole mountain range we’re here. If you want to blunder through them and crash on over the pass, that’s fine. You’re the one who thinks we’re being spied on by swans and conspired against by crows.”
Thomas glared at her. Maybe he’d never been given orders by a girl before. Or maybe he’d never been given orders by someone who couldn’t sing before. She shrugged and shifted slightly as if to stand up.
Thomas put his hand on her arm. “Alright. This is your lore. You got close without startling them. I probably couldn’t have done that. So you lead.”
They turned round and slid away from the Grey Men’s Grave.
Pearl knew the best stalkers could move so carefully and so close to the ground that a deer grazing ten feet away wouldn’t see the heather twitch.
Though she was well trained by Father, she wasn’t an expert yet, and neither she nor Thomas were wearing proper stalking gear. But they were both slim, both supple, and both deadly serious.
So they moved slow and silent as sundial shadows, and the deer didn’t notice them. But Pearl noticed growing frustration in Thomas’s face every time she glanced back at him.
Pearl could move like this for hours, but Thomas was already tiring. He was having to drag his gun and that huge twisted branch along with him. Pearl considered offering to help, but she’d be delighted if he left the stick or the gun or both behind, so she just kept going.
After twenty minutes creeping through the ground cover, Pearl reached the mouth of the pass. She sat up and smiled at the deer grazing calmly below.
Then Thomas emerged from the heather beside her. He wiped his hands on the lining of his jacket and ran his fingers through
If Pearl and Thomas were to get round the herd unnoticed, they would have to stay under the line of sight, stay silent, and stay out of the downward air current above the herd so their scent didn’t reach that alert hind.
If they took the easy path, back to the left and up the side of the burn, they would be hidden by the gully, but eventually they’d have to cut across through the air current. So instead they would have to go to the right, with nothing to use as cover except the thin heather. They would have to move very slowly. Would Thomas have the patience to do that?
She crawled back towards him. He was no longer lying on his back like a cat in the sun; he was low on his stomach, his dark eyes watching her. Alert, but not like the deer watching for danger; like a predator waiting for its prey to come close.
Was she his prey?
Pearl was accustomed to being the hunter, to tracking and stalking, shooting and gralloching. She wasn’t used to feeling watched and afraid.
She urged herself forward. She may not be on familiar land here, but she was used to being outdoors. Thomas spent nine months of the year at an English school. He couldn’t possibly be as comfortable and skilled on moors and mountains as she was. He was no danger to her.
She moved slowly towards him, staring back at him until he blinked. Then she lay down beside him, and put her mouth to his ear. “There’s an alert hind at the top of the herd, and the air is moving down the Anvil. We have to go back down a hundred yards, and up the glen to the right of them. We have to be slow and quiet.”
He shook his head. She turned away so he could whisper in her ear. His breath was hot. “That will take far too long!”
“Any other way will startle them,” she insisted.
“If you know so much about deer, can’t you just cast a spell on them so we can walk right through the herd?” he whispered through gritted teeth.
“No. This isn’t magic, it’s skill. If we don’t do it right, they’ll tell the whole mountain range we’re here. If you want to blunder through them and crash on over the pass, that’s fine. You’re the one who thinks we’re being spied on by swans and conspired against by crows.”
Thomas glared at her. Maybe he’d never been given orders by a girl before. Or maybe he’d never been given orders by someone who couldn’t sing before. She shrugged and shifted slightly as if to stand up.
Thomas put his hand on her arm. “Alright. This is your lore. You got close without startling them. I probably couldn’t have done that. So you lead.”
They turned round and slid away from the Grey Men’s Grave.
Pearl knew the best stalkers could move so carefully and so close to the ground that a deer grazing ten feet away wouldn’t see the heather twitch.
Though she was well trained by Father, she wasn’t an expert yet, and neither she nor Thomas were wearing proper stalking gear. But they were both slim, both supple, and both deadly serious.
So they moved slow and silent as sundial shadows, and the deer didn’t notice them. But Pearl noticed growing frustration in Thomas’s face every time she glanced back at him.
Pearl could move like this for hours, but Thomas was already tiring. He was having to drag his gun and that huge twisted branch along with him. Pearl considered offering to help, but she’d be delighted if he left the stick or the gun or both behind, so she just kept going.
After twenty minutes creeping through the ground cover, Pearl reached the mouth of the pass. She sat up and smiled at the deer grazing calmly below.
Then Thomas emerged from the heather beside her. He wiped his hands on the lining of his jacket and ran his fingers through
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