The Weaver's Source

Chapter 52

After hours of woodwork, my mind was heavy and my fingers sore. Lillith had shown me how to whittle an arrow and what it is meant to look like when ready but I still had much to learn. My technique was terrible, I knew it by how wonky the arrow was and the amused expression Lillith had as she watched me work over the small book she scrawled in. I was yawning a fair amount when Grigore came to get me before dusk. His face haggard from the cold wind and his temper still sour. He didn't talk to me much and kept distance from me. It made my curse my magic and roughly run through ideas on how to corner him less in the future but very quickly realised I couldn't, not until I knew why my magic would try to get me to touch him. Begrudgingly, I settled on keeping him from me physically and alerting him when I felt my magic stir, to give him a warning of some kind, and speak with Lillith about it the following day. She would know about it, I was sure of it, and hopefully give me a solution.

As soon as I had eaten, Grigore had left me in my room to patrol once again. Worry had flittered like a harried bird in my mind as I realised tonight the Black Dog would be out, wandering about the lanes. Grigore would find it and I feared for his safety, despite reminding myself that he promised to come back and wouldn't fight it. He knew it was too much for him. Even so, sleep came slowly.

At first it was a dreamless sleep until midnight had passed. Slowly a fearful darkness flashed in my mind. Screams and crying. The spattering of blood and the flash of white teeth. The screams of horses as they were torn apart, the men gurgling and desperately trying to fight off the shadowy monster.

And then my eyes snapped open.

Staring up at the darkness, I panted hard with sweat warming my neck. Unlike last time, I remembered. I remembered the bright caravan moving slowly to the town. The monstrous shadow slaughtering the men as they tried to fight back. The mother and child fleeing only to been hunted down and butchered just inches from light.

I sat up sharply and wiped my face. People were going to die tonight. I knew they were. The same intense feeling, the sense of dread, was filling me just like the dreams of Gabi had. I looked sharply to the window. The sky was dense with clouds, blocking out the white moon. I was torn. I knew going out there was one of the most stupid things I could do but I couldn't call Grigore nor would I get to him and then to the family in time. I knew where these people were and I knew the Dog was going to get to them shortly. I couldn't let them die like Gabi. I couldn't sit here and do nothing this time, not when my magic gave me the opportunity to help. Determination burned. Lillith had faced monsters for three hundred years and still lived, despite her Weaver having fallen. If I wanted to follow her example, I had to start somewhere. Cowering away wasn't going to change me.

I got up, grabbed my boots and cloak and pulled them on hurriedly. With every movement, I apologised to Grigore. I apologised for breaking my promise to him when he kept himself bound to his but I was sure he would understand, that I couldn't sit here knowing that this family was about to be slain, that a small child was going to get eaten, and I could warn them. I hoped he would anyway. Doubt niggled away.

I grabbed the lantern and lit it with care. I stared at it for a moment, holding it up to my face. Light was my only defence against the Dog if it found me. I had to make sure the light never died. I stuffed the flint in my pocket and hoped I wouldn't have to relight the candle. I doubted I'd have time to.

With fear thick in my throat, I stepped out of my room and wandered downstairs. The inn was quiet but the sounds of men snoring filled my ears when I entered the hall. Many men, children and women had fallen asleep here amongst tables and chairs. The fires in the three hearths were burning loudly, covering them all in light and warmth. Beside them an elderly man sat, struggling to stay awake as he kept watch over their safety net. His head kept drooping only to suddenly snap back up. I was certain he couldn't see me.