Devils on Starfall Isle

21

The things didn't bother with them when they returned. They just thundered through the clearing, laughing their cruel laughs, and plunged back into the forest. They woke Verity briefly, although she was too tired to stay awake for long. It was just another night in a cold hut for her. The villagers were staring in wide-eyed fear around her.

She properly woke when the sun was up. Her body ached, both from another night lying on the bare earth, and from where she'd been hurt by the men and their ropes. Everyone else was asleep. She stood and walked out into the sunshine, limping slightly.

In the morning sun, the town of Hod looked terrible. The chapel was just blackened wood, nothing but a scattering of smoking planks which jutted from the scorched earth. The other houses were in various states of ruin, some almost completely intact, others crushed, ragged wounds in their roofs and walls. There were no bodies that she could see.

But then, there were never bodies. She shuddered. She'd never noticed that before.

She wanted to wash, and to drink fresh water; she went to the well, drew a bucket up, and sniffed it; it didn't smell of rot or blood, so she guessed that it was probably not spoiled. A corpse in the drinking water would kill her just as well as the claws of the things. Although, this had not happened yet; they seemed uninterested in the artefacts of humans, of granaries and dovecotes; they just wanted the people.

She sipped the water, so cold that it was sharp, and swilled it around her mouth, tasting for taint; again, nothing. So, she drank from the bucket, and splashed it on her face; then she took the bucket to one of the other huts, and gasping from the chill of it, she undressed and washed.

Her body was indeed covered in bruises, and she winced as she washed. She changed into fresh clothes from her bag, and washed the old ones in the same water, and then hung them out in the morning sun to dry. They were ripped and stained and would take a long time to repair. The tears in the cloth brought back the memories of being grabbed and tied, and she grimaced, the memory a bruise that would take longer to heal.

She found a wooden chair, thrown on its side, righted it, and sat; and she wondered what to do.

Assuming the ship comes back, and I can get on it – which is a big assumption – I need to last for another month, she thought. I can't look after these people for that long. I don't think I can look after me for a month, never mind them. I guess I could teach them the songs, like Tira taught me. But what then? I wander off? Back to her village of Glin, surrounded by ruins and silence?

And Father Hooper would never sing the charms. In fact, I'm not sure he can do anything at all: he just looks broken. And he actually cared about me. I can't leave him behind.

So what then?

Patience came out of the hut, yawning and stretching. She saw Verity, and she smiled, and walked up.

'Do you mind if I sit with you, Verity?' she asked.

Verity found it odd to have someone older deferring to her.

'Fine,' she replied, gracelessly.

Patience smiled again, found another mostly intact chair, and sat, on the mud. She leant back, and looked across the ruin of the town, at the torn apart houses, at the blackened corpse of the chapel.

'They never leave bodies,' she said, quietly. 'Least, not of people.'

Verity was startled out of her thoughts. Patience was crying quietly, eyes red and beaded.

'You lost someone, didn't you?' said Verity. 'I'm sorry.'

Patience shrugged, and wiped her tears away. 'I'm no worse than most, I'll warrant. Better off than some. Least there were no children. When my husband and I came here, and I couldn't get pregnant, we thought it was a curse; but then we found that no one could, and we realised that it was this place. We should have heeded the warning. Should have heeded it and left. But now he's dead.'

She spoke with calm dignity, even as the tears spilled from her eyes. She looked away, and paused for a moment. Then she continued.

'Well, the alderman's dead, and if what Hope said was true, he and her were what started this in the first place. The priest's no good; he's just praying. Last night broke something in him, and I don't know what. So it's just you. You're our only hope now. You know what you're doing. I saw how you just slept last night when those things came back. You're strong and you've got magic that keeps you alive.'

Patience leaned forward.

'If we can stop those things, I want to be a part of it. And the only one who can stop them is you. So let me be a part of whatever you're planning, please. Please, Verity Fisher.'

Verity was taken aback. She'd never considered herself strong, or magical. She was just... her. But Patience was staring at her with expectation in her eyes. She believed that Verity was her saviour.

Verity was about to shake her head, say that she had no idea, when a thought struck her.

'I don't know. But let's ask the runes.'

'You got runes?'

'Yeah. I got them from Tira. She taught me how to use 'em.'

Patience nodded. 'I've never seen 'em. What do they look like?'

Verity brought out the little leather bag, and poured the twelve bone rectangles out into her hand. They were still warm.

'Here. You sing a song about what you want to ask, and you throw them. We just need to decide what to ask.'

'Ask 'em how we get off this island.'

'It doesn't work that way. There are only a few questions you can ask. I'm going to try and ask them all the questions I know. Maybe I can figure stuff out from that.'