Frank Tuttle - The Banshee's walk

I frowned. But the room was dark, and getting darker by the second.

Evis darted down the stairs, pausing halfway to the landing to motion me up.

“He’s right,” he said. “The wand-wavers are busy.”

“Busy doing what?”

“Come and see.”

“Keep this lot right where they are,” I snapped, when feet began to shuffle my way. “Wash some dishes. Mop some floors. Just keep your fool heads away from the windows, got it?”

I dashed up after Evis.

I was panting by the time we reached the attic. Victor and Sara were already there, as were the carpenters, who had dropped their tools in favor of huddling in a corner and engaging in silent prayers.

I put myself by the opening Serris had nearly leaped from, opened it quickly and glanced up.

Then I slammed the makeshift door shut and held it closed as a trio of arrows broke against it.

The sky above was gone. Just gone. Instead, and impossibly, it appeared as though a vast flat mirror hung just above Werewilk’s peaks. I’d even seen my own frightened face reflected back at me, seen the upraised faces of the men on the ground, the tops of the roofs, the ravaged, burned yard.

The carpenters paused and looked my way. “Pray harder,” I said.

Evis snorted. “Ever seen anything like that?”

“I’ve never had that much to drink. You?”

“Never saw it. May have heard of it, used at a place called String during the War. If that’s what it is, it’ll drop slowly lower and lower. Anybody it touches gets pulled into it. They still move, still try to talk-but they never come out. When it hits the ground, it breaks up and melts like ice.”

“Marvelous. Wonderful. Any defense against it?”

Evis shook his head no. “The wand-waver that cast it was called Three Eyes. Heard of him?”

“Maybe. Didn’t hear much if I did. Died during the war.”

“Didn’t die. Just didn’t resettle in Rannit. Went into hiding in what was left of Prince. Fits with what else I saw out there.”

“This day gets better and better, doesn’t it?”

“Seems that way. Look. If you have any more chats with a certain mutual acquaintance of ours, she needs to know all this. Make sure you tell them, or that I’m there to tell it myself.”

“I’ll have the invitations printed right away. What about this lot? Any point in keeping them working?”

Evis sighed. “No. We’re going to lose the attic soon to that.” He hooked a thumb up toward the missing sky.

“You lot. Beat it. Change of plans.”

They scurried off, leaving their tools behind.

Evis lit a candle and handed it to me. “We’d better get downstairs. The Lady. She out of the picture, as far as wand-waving goes?”

“Looks like. That one trick with the ropes laid her out.”

Evis’ face didn’t change.

“Hisvin is still in the mix. If I know what’s up there, there’s a good chance she does too. Maybe she knows a way to turn it all into a flock of geese or something.”

“You trying to make me feel better?”

We headed down. Evis grinned.

“You’re on your own, pal. I’m trying to talk myself into feeling lucky right now.”

A flood of shouted questions met us on the stairs. I lifted my hands and yelled for silence and made reassuring noises that sounded pretty strained even to me.

The House was engulfed in darkness now. People were carrying candles or lighting lamps. A clock didn’t help morale by striking out noon in a lull amid the grumbling.

I was glad Darla and Gertriss were keeping Buttercup out of sight. I was also acutely aware of how few places they’d have to hide her, should the mood in the House turn ugly.

I looked at the faces glaring up at me and amended that. The mood was already ugly. The sudden descent into midnight dark at noon had just completed the transformation.

Evis moved first, simply marching down into the mob. I’m not sure they’d have parted for me, but Evis sent them tripping in their haste to give him room.

I followed in his wake. Marlo came thundering down the stairs and fell in behind me with a curse and a piercing glare. The crowd broke up. This time.

“What have they done to the sky?” Marlo had the good sense to whisper.

“No idea. But it isn’t an immediate danger.” I explained that it would lower itself very slowly. Marlo took little comfort from that.

“Looks like they’re planning on just squeezing us out.”

“They don’t want to hurt the banshee. They can’t bring down the House without risking that.”

Marlo snorted, obviously unconvinced. I changed the subject.

“How’s the Lady?”

“Resting. Took a lot out of her. And no, she ain’t up to another hex, and ain’t gonna be for a while.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

“Right. But that’s your answer anyway. Reckon that man in the cornfield is brewin’ up something for us about now?”

“Bet on that.”

“Reckon he’d better be quick about it.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

Darla and Gertriss came darting out of the gallery hall, Buttercup dangling between them. The banshee was giggling and swinging, one hand clutched on Darla’s shoulder, the other on Gertriss.

“You two. Upstairs. Find Mama. Stay with her.”

Gertriss nodded, all business. Darla gave me a weak smile and hurried off up the stairs.

Marlo glanced around before he spoke. “Just so you know, Finder. There’s been talk about that there banshee of yours, and how it ought to be gutted and thrown out the door.”

“Thanks for the warning, Mr. Marlo. And just so you know, the first one to try it will likely experience some gutting themselves.”

“Just watch your self, that’s all I’m saying. People are scared. You know what happens when people get scared.” He looked suddenly thoughtful. “Maybe I ought to show them a room with a good strong door. Might be best to get them out of sight.”

I just nodded, and was suddenly glad that Mama and her cleaver were handy.

The catapults didn’t burn.

I hadn’t really thought they would. The timbers were too green, and the crews managed to get the fires out far quicker than we’d hoped. Worse, the ropes Lady Werewilk had ruined with her sorcery were being replaced on two of the engines as we watched, which meant they’d be ready to start tearing down our walls by sunset. Two catapults would wreck the House just as effectively as three.

All our efforts might have bought us another few hours of safety. No more.

I hoped Hisvin’s bag of tricks was deep and potent.

Evis dared the top floors long enough to measure the reflective spell’s descent, and placed it at about a foot an hour. That gave us maybe forty hours before we’d be forced into the tunnels. It also meant the army outside would need to pull back. We couldn’t see the edges of the spell, so we had no idea how far it extended, or if even the deep woods tunnel would carry us beyond it.

We could hear the soldiers outside, winding the catapults again, using a team of Lady Werewilk’s plowing oxen to speed the process. The soldiers in the yard ambled freely about now, sometimes shouting at us, or hurling debris at the door amid hoots of laughter. All the outbuildings were burned or aflame, and I could hear half a dozen women sobbing as they realized the smoke they smelled was the smoke from their burning homes.

Aside from Marlo and Evis, no one spoke to me. Oh, they glared and they whispered, doubtlessly laying the blame for their current ills at my feet, but they dared not call me out directly. I kept Toadsticker in plain view just in case someone got brave.

An hour passed. Outside, ropes were wound, wagons were parked, men idled or ate or sharpened their blades.