that I thought my hair would burst into flames! Only a very experienced magician is capable of doing that.”
Uh-huh. Someone like my friend Valder.
“Well, it definitely wasn’t me who did it.”
“Naturally,” Alistan said coolly. “But we’d like to know who did.”
I shrugged.
“And the phantoms? Who, I mean, what were they?”
“They’re the spirits of the men whose bones lie on this side of the ravine,” I said. “The soldiers of the Dog Swallows Brigade returned to our world when they sensed the shamanic magic at work.”
Miralissa kept her pensive gaze fixed on me. I think she knew perfectly well that I wasn’t telling her everything, but for some reason she didn’t try to shake the truth out of me right there and then.
“What the Nameless One’s shamans created could have awoken the spirits of the fallen.”
“And what happened to that cloud?” I asked.
“It disappeared.”
“And Tomcat?”
Everyone turned their eyes away.
“He’s dead, Harold,” Uncle answered eventually.
“What happened?” Somehow I couldn’t believe in the death of the platoon’s tracker.
“That creature, whatever it was, passed through him and killed him. That’s all we know. Are you fit to sit in the saddle, thief?” asked Alistan.
“Yes.”
“Good. We’ve lost a day and we need to get out onto the highway. Is everything ready, Uncle?”
“Of course, captain,” the sergeant of the Wild Hearts said with a nod.
“Get up, Harold, we need to see a soldier off on his last journey.”
They had buried Tomcat before I came round. He had found his final resting place under a young rowan tree with silvery bark and branches that spread out above the large gravestone. On the stone someone had traced the words TOMCAT. BROTHER OF THE WILD HEARTS.?–1123 E.D.
“Good-bye,” Uncle said for all of us.
“Sleep well,” Miralissa whispered, passing her hand above the grave.
Kli-Kli was blinking rapidly, trying to hold back the tears. Arnkh was clenching and unclenching his fists helplessly. Deler and Hallas looked like twins now—both small, sullen, and somber.
And then Lamplighter launched into the song “Forgiveness.” The song that the Wild Hearts sing over the bodies of their brothers, no matter whether they fell in battle or died of old age. It’s a strange song, not really suitable for warriors. After all, how can warriors forgive their enemies?
But this song was as old as the Wild Hearts and the Lonely Giant, and it had been sung since such hoary old times that now no one knew who first sang it to see warriors off on their final journey.
Kli-Kli and Alistan and Miralissa and the elves and I listened to this strange song that semed so incongruous for soldiers, and yet wrung the heart in such bitter enchantment. After the first couplet all the Wild Hearts joined in.
When the song came to an end, only the chirping of the crickets disturbed the silence of the morning. No one said a word; no one wanted to be the first to break the silence of mourning.
Our group had lost a comrade. But would he be the last? No one knew who or what was waiting for us up ahead. We still had so many obstacles to overcome in order to reach the Forests of Zagraba, where the burial chambers of Hrad Spein lay concealed.
“That’s it.” Uncle’s voice sounded like flintpaper. “Time to go.”
“Have a good winter, Tomcat.”
Kli-Kli turned away, trying to conceal his tears. I had a bitter feeling in my heart. As well as the pain of loss we all felt a violent, seething anger. If the creators of that cloud had been there then, I swear I would have torn them limb from limb with my bare hands.
The group rode almost all day long without talking. Hallas and Deler stopped arguing, there were none of those interminable little songs from Lamplighter’s reed pipe, Kli-Kli forgot about his jokes and sniffed occasionally, with his eyes noticeably redder than usual. Marmot frowned dourly and stroked Invincible, who was frozen as still as a statue on his shoulder.
I rode apart from everyone else, immediately behind Uncle and Honeycomb. I was in a foul mood and didn’t feel like talking to anyone. My solitude was only interrupted once, when Alistan rode up to me.
Somehow he appeared out of nowhere on my right and we rode together for several leagues. I didn’t object to his silent company and was actually a little surprised when he broke the silence.
“You know, Harold, Tomcat’s lying in a good place.”
“Is he?” That was all that I could force out to express my surprise at his words.