Page 17 of Her Cruel Redemption

I was struck then by this ability Gwinellyn had to inspire loyalty in those around her. In all these friends of hers. In me. Here we were, traipsing through the dark and into danger all because we’d put our faith in her. What was it about her that made people love her like that? With a little wisp of jealousy, I realised she could make a better a queen than I had ever been.

‘Look, I can see light up ahead,’ Gwinellyn called from behind us, and when I paid attention I could see what her eyes had already picked out; the glow of sunlight. Before long, we were squeezing through the gap at the end of the tunnel and stepping out on the other side, squinting into the sunlight glinting from the surface of the river flowing past.

‘So, now we follow the river?’ Mae asked, glancing at me.

‘We follow the river,’ I agreed. The river would take us to Baba Yaga’s empty cottage, where we would spend the night before trekking down and out of the Yawn in the morning. And, I hoped, I might look through her things one last time to see if I could find any answers to the questions that had spun round and round my head since she’d gifted me her magic. Why had she given it to me? Who had given it to her? How had she learned to use it? I‘d searched the place before Gwinellyn and I had abandoned it, but I could have been more thorough. I was more motivated now that I knew how difficult magic was going to be to master.

And I harboured a stupid, secret wish that Baba Yaga hadn’t really died after all, that she was beyond and above such a force as mortality and she’d be standing before her door, waiting to scold me and give me answers to all the questions I’d never got to ask. I didn’t know why I longed for that so much. I’d barely known the old witch, and half of what she’d ever said to me had been insulting. It was perhaps the same inexplicable feeling that had driven me to her when I’d been desperate and clutching a dying Gwinellyn. Some sort of instinctive assurance that she had the power to mend problems and offer protection.

‘I’m sad to know she won’t be there too.’

I came back to my surroundings, to the tread of my feet against the ground as we walked along the bank of the river, at this comment from Daethie. I found that she was walking next to me, her fluffy blond hair catching the dappled sunlight in streaks of bright gold as she looked around at the surrounding trees, blinking dreamily. I hadn’t had much to do with the strange, reclusive member of Gwinellyn’s friends. She was rarely out with the others. I had been surprised to learn she would be joining us.

‘Who?’ I asked.

‘Baba Yaga,’ she said, and immediately I tensed up.

‘Did you read me?’ I demanded, stopping short. I hadn’t even felt it. How had I not noticed?

‘I wanted to know if you shared my sorrow. I thought I saw it in your eyes when Mae mentioned her name,’ Daethie replied, slowing her walk.

‘Don’t do it again,’ I snapped. ‘I don’t want any of you reading me, do you understand?’

Daethie cocked her head, but if she was offended by my temper, she didn’t show it. She still wore that same vague smile that made her look a little addled. ‘If you’d prefer to risk being misunderstood.’

‘She meant nothing by it, Rhi,’ Mae said, drawing up to me. ‘She didn’t know how you feel about being read. We’ll all respect your preference.’

I blew out a breath and started walking again, trying to let go of that instinctive revulsion and fear I felt at the idea of anyone having access to my emotions. There was plenty I didn’t want them reading. If they caught me in the wrong moment, who knew what might be revealed.

‘Sorry Daethie,’ I said after a few minutes spent in strained silence. ‘I shouldn’t have snapped at you.’

‘It’s alright,’ she replied easily. ‘I’ve been warned that you’re prickly.’

Prickly. Is that how they all thought of me? Had they been talking about me before we’d set out? I supposed I should have expected as much, but for some reason it stung a little to know it.

We continued to follow the river through the gorge until we found Baba Yaga’s cottage. The little clearing was quiet, the flock of chickens gone. Feathers everywhere. I wondered if they’d gone to roost elsewhere, or if they’d steadily been eaten by the creatures of the Yawn. It felt like we were intruding on the territory of said creatures now, without the witch acting as guardian over this space. It felt like there were eyes watching us from the trees.

‘This is new,’ Daethie’s airy, singsong voice chirped. And there was something, a premonition maybe, that whispered over the skin of my neck.

‘What’s new?’ I asked, turning towards her. She was examining a tree several strides away, her head tilted. Goras joined her with a frown.

‘I found another over there,’ he said, pointing.

‘What is it?’ I demanded, approaching them. When I was standing beside them, I answered the question myself.

There was something carved into the tree. Two jagged slashes deep into the bark, at odds with each other. It looked like the number seven.

‘Look,’ Daethie said, pointing to another tree, where the number eight was haphazardly slashed into the bark, all straight edges and crude shapes. Then I took in the rest of the clearing, my heart beginning to pound. I followed the clearing edge, the trail of damaged trees. Nine, ten, eleven, twelve… The numbers went on, each sending another jolt of panic racing through me, quickening my steps until I was almost running. I found the number nineteen in the tree closest to the path that lead to the front door, before finally fixing on the door itself, dread rising, filling me with a cold shudder. I could see something scratched into the wood, but I was almost at the door before I could make it out.

Twenty.

‘What does it mean?’ Gwinellyn asked, coming up behind me. I couldn’t respond. It felt like my throat had closed over. If I opened my mouth, my voice would be a squeak. So instead, I just shook my head. She stepped past me, but I lurched towards her, snatching her arm.

‘Don’t go in there!’

She froze in her tracks, fixing baffled eyes on me, before frowning back at the door. ‘What do you think we’ll find?’

I had no idea. But I could hazard a guess that I wouldn’t like it. ‘Just let me go in first.’

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