respond neutrally, but it wasnât easy. She and Solon both smelled sour, like burning wood tinged with rotting meat. It was hard not to wrinkle his nose and convey the wrong impression of his own feelings towards them both.
You hardly smell of scented soap , he reminded himself. The phrase was Jeannieâs, and the memory caught in his throat. He hoped his dadâs lifelong relationship with the old housekeeper was keeping him from harming her.
As they climbed, Matt wondered what was on this part of the island in the present day. He, Em and Zach knew all the coves and caves near Seaport and on Era Mina, but he didnât think Auchinmurnâs spelunkers were aware of smugglersâ caves on this side of the island.
âLook out!â Solon suddenly yelled, flattening himself against the crags as an avalanche of rocks and roots tumbled towards them.
Matt covered his head with his hands as rocks rained down on him, battering and cutting him. Curled against the rock face, he experienced a jolt of homesickness that took his breath away.
Carik reached out her good hand to Matt as the avalanche trickled to a halt.
âYou will see your sister again soon,â she said.
Kindness at last , Matt thought wryly. She had obviously sensed his longing.
âIâm fine,â he said shortly. âKeep going.â
They climbed on in silence. Solon was some way ahead now, almost at the ridge line.
âWhy did your father send those knights to attack us?â Carik asked abruptly.
Matt focused on where he was placing his hands. âI donât know. Maybe he didnât want us following him, seeing where he took Jeannie.â
The higher they climbed, the thicker the bracken and brambles became. The moon was full now, glittering on the bay below them. Mattâs hands and face were covered in scratches. Above them, Solon had stopped at a thick curtain of bramble and hawthorn bushes, and Matt detected a cave opening behind their swinging branches.
âMay I use your magic glasses again?â Solon asked.
Matt breathlessly handed the opera glasses over. They huddled together on the ledge as Solon focused on the small island of Era Mina.
âWhat are you looking at?â asked Matt.
Solon returned the glasses to Matt. âBrother Renardâs tower on Era Mina. The one we are building to keep him safe from his own fracturing imagination. Look.â
The tower on Era Mina stood full height in Mattâs time, slender and commanding. Right now, it was part-way through the process of being built.
The rocky promontory was swarming with hundreds of black knights in identical armour, cutting stone, mixing mortar, carrying bricks â building the tower at record speed and all moving in the same precise way that Matt, Solon and Carik had witnessed earlier on the beach. Matt wondered again at how his father was doing all of this. Guardians could not animate. What were these creatures? Where had they come from?
Solon took the glasses again. âWhy does your father not animate the tower itself?â
âHeâs a Guardian,â said Matt. âNot an Animare.â
Solon looked startled. âThen how is he doing this?â
âI have no idea.â
They moved inside the cave and Solon dropped the brush cover, plunging them into darkness. Matt could feel and smell Carik standing next to him. The sense of her mistrust and intense curiosity assailed him.
Who are you? she was saying, as clearly as if she were speaking the words aloud.
Matt wasnât sure he knew the answer to that either.
TWENTY-TWO
Solon crouched over a scratched-out pit with two sharp pieces of flint. In seconds, a fire burst to life in the centre of the cave, illuminating the damp space. Then he loosened his sword and slumped on to a flat rock next to the fire.
Carik set her quiver, her bow and a hunting knife on a rock that jutted out from the far wall like a tongue. She cupped her hand under the water
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