Page 54 of The Affair of the Mysterious Letter
Having returned both literally and figuratively to earth, and reassured myself that my limbs and vital organs were relatively intact, my thoughts turned to the unacceptably shambolic figures we would cut as we entered Vedunia. We were both soaked to the skin, my doublet was torn in a dozen places, my hat was missing, I’d lost a buckle from one shoe and the entirety of the other, and my stockings were more run than they had any business being in public. Ms. Haas’s attire, being altogether composed of more durable materials, had fared ratherbetter, although she herself had not. She lay worryingly still, her hair matted, her fingertips charred, and blood running freely from a gash on her forehead. But she was, at least, breathing.
Finding myself unable to rouse her, and leery of the dangers inherent in leaving an unconscious woman alone in a foreign woodland, I took the rather uncomfortable and not altogether seemly decision to carry Ms. Haas to Vedunia. This proved less difficult than I had anticipated; I had some experience of lifting fallen comrades, and Ms. Haas, though taller than I, was lighter than she appeared, as I should perhaps have expected, given that she subsisted on a diet of oysters and laudanum.
I had some sense of the way to Vedunia and it did not take me too long to emerge from the forest onto the road. There I turned and walked towards the city in the hopes that I would soon pass some kind traveller who could assist me in conveying my friend to a place where we might find help. I had not gone very far at all when I heard hoofbeats behind me. And, standing aside to avoid making a nuisance of myself, soon I observed the approach of a low cart, drawn by a donkey and driven by a hunched old woman in a cloak. Setting Ms. Haas down, I attempted to attract the traveller’s attention, a relatively simple matter, considering our current predicament.
She came to a stop beside us and eyed me speculatively from beneath her hood. “How can Granny help you, dearie?”
Her voice was peculiar in two ways. Firstly, it was possessed of an unnatural shrillness that made even the kindest of sentiments feel sinister. Secondly, she spoke in flawless Eyan. Despite these uncanny nuances, my circumstance was one of begging rather than choosing.
“My companion is injured,” I said. “And I would be most grateful if you were to provide us with passage to town and directions both to a reputable apothecary and to somewhere we can rest.”
“Come up beside me.” The old woman shuffled over and pattedthe seat next to her. “Whatever your heart desires, Granny will see you right.”
I was beginning to suspect that this stranger would pose more problems than she would solve. “Madam, if I might ask, would you by any chance happen to be a witch?”
She grinned, displaying an impressive snaggletooth. “What cynical times we live in. I am but a harmless old woman on my way to market to sell a few simple herbs and trinkets.”
I was not sure if the lady’s intent was to confirm or allay my suspicions, but ultimately it made no matter. I lifted Ms. Haas again and transferred her as gently as I was able into the back of the cart. Not wishing to give this clearly untrustworthy person any opportunity to drive away with my insensible companion, I immediately hauled myself in as well, settling down against a bale of straw.
The witch turned in her seat and gave me a wounded look. “Why so nervous, dearie? Poor Granny means no harm to you or your pretty compan—oh.” She paused, staring at Ms. Haas, and then went on in quite a different tone. “Who are you and why are you travelling with Shaharazad Haas?”
“My name is John Wyndham. Ms. Haas and I live together and are presently engaged on business of some urgency in Vedunia.”
“And why is she unconscious?”
Once again, I was in the difficult position of wishing neither to lie nor to inadvertently give away information that might endanger others. “We fell from the sky.”
“How like her.” Then, before I could stay her, the witch snatched a handful of blackish powder from a nearby basket and cast it into Ms. Haas’s face. “Shaharazad. Wake up, Shaharazad. Granny’s got a bone to pick with you.”
My companion’s eyes flickered open. “Is that you, Liesl?” she murmured, still sounding somewhat fatigued. “I thought I’d killed you.”
That made the old woman cackle. “Don’t be silly, dearie. If I died every time a teenage girl stole my books, cut off my head, and set my cottage on fire, I’d have been gone centuries ago. It was very unimaginative of you. I hope you’ve done better since.”
“I’m lying in a cart full of dung because my nauseatingly soft-hearted housemate convinced me to rescue a fishmonger from a vampire.” She flung an arm across her forehead. “I’ve done magnificently.”
There was a long silence.
“Well now,” said the old woman finally. “Isn’t it lucky Granny found you?”
Ms. Haas twitched her fingers wearily. “That rather depends on whether you’re going to make another attempt to carve my still-beating heart out of my chest and eat it in front of me.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, Shaharazad. You’re not the succulent young thing you once were.”
I cleared my throat politely. “If you could just take us to Vedunia, that would be more than amply helpful.”
“You, on the other hand”—Granny’s glittering eyes alighted on me—“would make an excellent filling for a pie. So sweet and tender.”
“That’s terribly gratifying, but we really do need to get to Vedunia as soon as possible.”
“Actually,” Ms. Haas observed, “we likely have several hours before the train departs. Which is fortunate because I am not feeling quite myself. Besides, we have little hope of infiltrating the Austral Express looking like the last survivors of Sarnath.”
Granny reached down and raked her fingernails through Ms. Haas’s hair in a gesture that seemed strangely affectionate. “Not yourself? Why, Granny is just a simple old woman who lives in the woods and even she can see that you have a concussion, at least two cracked ribs, and a broken leg. To say nothing of the storm-shredded tatters you seem to have made of whatever passes for your soul.”
“Don’t fuss me, Liesl. I’ve fought dragons with worse.”
“Ah, my pretty Shaharazad, you haven’t changed in thirty years. Always wanting too much too quickly. Always thinking you can do everything.”
“Well, I usually can.”
