Cymru - Chapter 31

AERONA

"Ooh, hello!" Aerona said brightly as Haf arrived in the Landing Tower. "I was hoping it would be you! Do you like games?"

"You're obscenely chirpy," Haf told her, running a critical eye over her and the merod. Aerona sighed.

"You're depressingly not," she said sadly. "But you should try it, really. It makes life happier."

"Happier?" Haf raised an eyebrow. "We're about to go and find a group of insane druids, why would I be happy?"

"It's sunny," Aerona said defensively. "We could be doing it in the rain."

"True, actually." Haf cocked her head to one side, examining Aerona carefully. "I hate that you think you're normal. I may as well tell you now, if we're going to be working together."

"You - what?"

"I hate that you have no chance of ever being normal, even if it were allowed," Haf continued. "And I especially hate that it's not. But, most of all, I hate that you think you're happy this way."

Aerona stared at her.

"I think," she said cautiously, "that you lost me somewhere around the first time you said the word 'normal'. And then the word 'normal' started to lose all meaning."

"Yes, because it has so much meaning for you anyway," Haf said, rolling her eyes. "No. You're so fucked up even the Greeks don't have a word for it. And they gave me your file, you're a mild case. But I'm glad that you're anti-torture. Well done."

"You know it's unfair to say all of this without explaining it," Aerona said reasonably. Haf shrugged, the indigo robe shifting about her in the breeze that blew in from the runway.

"You genuinely would not understand," she said, reaching an arm out for the reins. The loose sleeve of the robe slid back, exposing a small tattoo of an anti-clockwise spiral on her inner wrist. "So? Shall we go? I also hate flying, you know."

It was a good job, then, that Aerona had been provided with the most placid and sweet-tempered gelding possible to give her; although even if Haf had been the sort to turn up with a full set of flying leathers and a smile Aerona still would have given her an easy meraden. Intelligencer or not, Haf wasn't a Rider, and just didn't have the practice.

She helped her mount up and buckle on the harness. Despite wearing what amounted to a long skirt and sitting astride a large animal, Haf's robe still managed to look completely normal, hanging easily down to her ankles. Aerona decided that druids had magic clothes. It was the only possible answer.

"Comfy," Haf commented sourly as she lowered her goggles. Aerona sprang onto Briallu's back, a stable hand materialising to help. "Where first?"

"Casnewydd, or thereabouts." Aerona thought of the list in her pocket, and sighed. "Cas-Gwent specifically. I want - "

"The children first?" Haf asked, surprised. Aerona thought she detected a note of approval in her tone. "Not the druids?"

"I think the children have waited long enough," Aerona said, trotting Briallu forward to the runway as the stable hand finished and vanished. "They need help. And if they can give us a clear memory of what happened, it might help us."

"Received guilt, more like," Haf muttered, but without much bite. "Riders. You didn't kill that boy, you know."

"Of course I know," Aerona said, but uneasily. She did feel - odd - about poor Dewi. It was just so wrong. The first duty of a Rider was to protect Cymru and its people. For a Rider to kill a Cymric child... it was just such a reversal of the natural order of things, of the bedrock of ideals that Aerona's life was built upon. She felt guilty on Owain's behalf.

She passed into the sunshine of the runway, and smiled. After the rainstorm the weather had cleared right up, and the sunlight warmed Aerona to her bones. The thick fragrances of grass and hay drifted in on the clean scent of the wind, and the cloud and mist had cleared; far to the west was the shine of the sea, while Eryri reared beneath them. Aerona grinned, and urged Briallu on. She loved flying in any weather, but she really did like the sun.

Briallu's wings unfolded and she leapt lightly into the air, gliding lazily onto a thermal. After a moment Haf drifted in beside her, and they wheeled about and flew south.

"How was Iona when you left?" Aerona asked once they'd put some distance between themselves and the Union. Haf sniffed.

"Stronger now that wet boy of hers is there," she said. "In outlook, anyway. Which counts for a lot. Not so sure about him, mind."

"What do you mean?" Aerona asked, surprised.

"Bit of a shock to see her," Haf said. "Well, it would be, really. I was shocked, and she's not my mother. If you're wanting him to testify still, mind, you'd better be certain that Lord Flyn - " she spat the name "- will go down afterwards. Otherwise, I suspect he won't say a word."

"Oh dear," Aerona said. That was problematic. As lovely as Awen was, Aerona doubted she'd take kindly to Gareth retracting his statement, and Awen was quite willing to torture people herself. "Um - you said you might have to amputate?"

"No further news," Haf said, and sighed irritably. "It's all down to how well the bones mend. Even with druidic help to sort of... nudge them along three times a day, I won't really be able to tell for at least a week, I shouldn't think. If most of them knit cleanly, I'll see about relocating that shoulder. The worry is the elbow."

"Who dislocates elbows?" Aerona shuddered. "What a complete psychopath. Although he is also a child killer, so actually I think I'm reacting with more surprise than I should."

"He's not right anymore," Haf said darkly. "I won't speak for who he was before; a bit of a prick I'm told, but that's aside. He went up a mountain, alone, at night. It wasn't him who came back down."

"Well and creepily put." And yet, Twm ap Llywelyn had certified Owain as sane and healthy and ready to maim Saxons. "I have to ask; is it possible that Twm could just have missed it?"

"Definitely not." Haf raised an eyebrow. "This is where the semantics are important. You, people who aren't druids, you say that after a night alone on a mountain what comes down will be either a poet, a madman or dead. Druids don't say that, though."

"'It wasn't him who came back down,'" Aerona repeated, and Haf nodded.

"We can see what happens, Rider," she said. "So the three options are different. It's all about the strength of the mind. The corpse was far too weak, and died of its joy and terror. The poet carries the mountains back down inside their mind, and keeps them until they die. But the third - the 'madman' - the third leaves their mind inside the mountains. And that leaves a space. Something else gets in."

"Creepy again," Aerona nodded. "I hope you don't work with children. I realise I shall regret asking very much, but what exactly gets in?"

"Nothing I can explain," Haf said. "I really can't. You have to feel it to understand. But it's not... right, you see? That's how we know. You look at a mind like that, and you can feel the bit that's wrong. It doesn't matter if you've never met that person before. You don't have to know what they were originally. A part is just wrong."

"So why did no one else notice with Owain?" Aerona said. "If it's that obvious -"

"It's obvious if you look," Haf said irritably, waving a hand and revealing the tattoo again. "And we aren't magicians. We aren't telepathic. It takes a proper ritual to get into someone's head like that, so unless he regularly walked through chalk circles containing meditating druids while accidently carrying a smoking bundle of exactly the right herbs and walking into the druid's hands with his face, he was unlikely to be found out."

"Okay," Aerona said slowly. "Unlikely circumstances, yes. But... don't the border warnings work on druids meditating for - ?"

"Different," Haf interrupted. "A fair question, but no. That's a team of about four druids in synchronised meditation doing the equivalent of staring in one direction with a set of binoculars and looking exclusively for a full flock of buzzards. Under those circumstances, they will never notice if a gnat flies behind them."

"Interesting analogy," Aerona grinned. Haf threw her a look.

"Short notice, alright?" she said. "Whatever. The point is; border patrols aren't even looking at Saxon minds. They're looking for the herd mind. It's what you get when humans throng together en masse. Everyone naturally feeds off each other - well, you know this, you're a Rider. One of you scents danger, the rest go on alert as well. When Saxons start planning raids or full attacks, they shift from herd mind to pack mind. That's what the druids pick up. And it's why there are false alarms sometimes, if they're just attacking each other."

"But the druids can't see individual minds like that," Aerona said, and Haf shook her head.

"Not unless there are lots of them," she said. Aerona nodded.

"Okay," she said. "Related question, then - how could the border warnings be being delayed? If they're working as a team -"

"Then all of them would have to be involved," Haf nodded. "Or three out of four, possibly; three druids might be able to alter a fourth's perception, but it would be risky."

"That makes it easier." Aerona brightened up. "That means that if we know one druid isn't entirely present anymore, then everyone else on their team is a likely suspect. Okay - do you have any idea yet what's wrong with the children?"

"A few ideas," Haf said. "I'll know once we're there. My big theory, though, is dream walking. Someone did it on that first night after the boy was killed, and then burned it deep. That'll mean every new dream they have will turn into that one. I'm hoping, anyway."

"Really?" Aerona asked, nervously. "Is that the best case scenario?"

"Yes," Haf said, and paused, thinking. "I think I'm going to have to use some analogies again. Think of that one as being like... a footprint, on a path. Into thick mud. It's there, and it blots everything out. As time goes by, the ground around the footprint tries to recover, see? The mud dries, grass tries to grow back, you know. But it can't erase the footprint. That's still there, no matter how high the grass grows."

"But you can rub out the footprint?" Aerona said. "Sort of?"

"Sort of," Haf agreed. "The next possibility is more like a seed, though. You plant it, and the ground can't help but grow it. Time doesn't hide it like with the footprint. With the footprint the mind is healing around it, as best it can, trying to grow past it. But with the seed; well. The seed becomes a plant, yes? It grows through the mind. It takes over. The grass might try to grow back, but it can't compete with the plant."

"Can you -" Aerona paused, testing the analogy. It was much like a game itself. "Um... pick the plant?"

"Far, far more difficult," Haf said darkly. "Because, you see, it's a dandelion. Leave even the tiniest fraction of root and it'll grow back. They'd need regular visits to a druid for the rest of their lives. And there's no guarentee you could stay ahead of it."

"Good gods." Aerona sat up fully on Briallu's back. "Do you know, I was already quite cross about this situation. But now I'm angry. If they have -"

"They might not," Haf said serenely.

"I think I might kill them," Aerona said. "Maybe just one? The Union probably wouldn't mind me killing just one. Can you know who specifically did it?"

"Maybe," Haf shrugged. "I won't know until I'm there. My other theory, by the way, is that whoever's responsible is nowhere near elegant enough for either of the methods I've described and is simply somewhere nearby, and making them dream it every night. And there are other possibilities."

"Well, I'm certainly going to punch Twm ap Llywelyn in the face, at any rate," Aerona said, and then a thought occured to her. "What exactly is the procedure for dealing with them, by the way? What does the Urdd want?"

"Oh, them dead with speed," Haf said cheerfully. "Druids don't like the people who don't come back down."

Well that made things considerably easier. Aerona brightened up, and spent the rest of the flight trying to convince Haf to play the shop game.

****************

Cas-Gwent was rustic, but in its own way beautiful. Aerona wasn't used to mainland urban areas, so what might have been seen by someone else as a collection of shacks held together by mud on ground so poor even grass spurned it was a romantically retro testament to human spirit in Aerona's eyes. Although Cas-Gwent was nowhere near that bad. The buildings were solid wattle-and-daub affairs, the thatched roofs well-maintained, and sat neatly about a main road that sloped down to a river and the bustling fish market, sited conveniently next to the large quays. They tended to pick up the land traders in Cas-Gwent, the first Cymric stop in the Southlands over the border, and as such were both extremely welcoming to outsiders and in constant terror of Saxon raiding. But they weren't often attacked; the river was a tributary of the Hafren, the distinctively dangerous and ugly mud banks on each side providing enormous safety from a horde of angry gentlemen with swords intent on wading to mischief. But it did have a bridge, wide enough and sturdy enough for two carts to pass side by side, and with the promise of a trading caravan raids did happen sometimes.

They landed in the little town square beside the obligatory obelisk, Briallu sneakily trying to move herself closer to a hay-cart parked to one side. A small knot of shopkeepers turned to stare at them from one side, and as Aerona started to undo the clips of the harness she could hear a young voice running from house to house behind her, the words 'Rider! There's a Rider!' looping into a mantra. She grinned. Children were so cute.

One of the shopkeepers detached himself from the knot and approached Aerona and Haf, his eyes wide with the slightly awed look that border people all got when talking to Riders. It made Aerona uncomfortable.

"Rider," he said, clasping his hands in front of an apron that proclaimed him to be a blacksmith. "Welcome to Cas-Gwent, it's an honour to have you..."

"Oh, it's more of an honour to be here," Aerona said earnestly, and ignored Haf's shaking head out of the corner of her eye. "I've never been before, it's beautiful. Is there a stable we can borrow? Or even just a hitching post, there's no great need."

"Of course!" the man said eagerly. He seemed vaguely shocked that she might not expect him to evict his own horses in favour of the merod. "I've got a barn going empty at the minute, in fact, if you want we could turn them loose in there."

"That'd be lovely!" Aerona said happily, and the man beamed. "Excellent. My name is Aerona, and this is Derwydd Haf."

"Brychan," the man said, almost reverentially. By now a small crowd of people had gathered at the edges of the square, and Aerona found herself covertly scanning it for young children. There were a few, she noted; almost all were about ten or over however, only two looking young enough to be Dewi's contemporaries. A little girl, about as old as Aerona's children, was holding her mother's hand and watching Briallu, her face solemn and unsmiling. And further around the circle a woman was crouching on one knee, one arm around a boy's shoulders and the other pointing at the merod, while he simply stared at the ground, uninterested. Aerona forced herself to look back at Brychan, and undo the final straps of the harness.

"A pleasure to meet you," she smiled, dismounting neatly. Briallu shook herself from nose to tail, and a few of the older children laughed and clapped. "I suppose we should speak with your Mayor."

"He's on his way, Rider," one of the other shopkeepers said, coming closer. Her apron suggested she was a baker. Or had recently been attacked by a miller. "We can take your merod if you like?"

"Splendid!" Aerona said, handing the reins over to Brychan, who ran an automatic hand down Briallu's neck in a gesture that spoke volumes about how comfortable he was with animals. It was brilliantly reassuring. Briallu wasn't a difficult meraden, certainly not compared to some, but merod weren't animals for the inexperienced. Aerona left him to it, and went to help get the harness off Haf.

She'd just finished and was helping Haf dismount when the Mayor arrived. He was a plump man, his dark hair balding and leaving a shiny dome behind, his round face red. He was well-dressed, but clearly had only just struggled his way into his torque on the way down; it was slightly lop-sided, and partly caught on the collar of his tunic. Aerona held the meraden still for Haf to jump down and then turned to him, smiling her brightest smile.

"Lord Mayor!" she said happily, bowing. He beamed at her, clasping his hands in front of his round stomach.

"Rider!" he all but boomed. "Derwydd! Welcome to Cas-Gwent! To what do we owe the honour?"

"Actually, we've come about your children," Aerona said carefully, and the atmosphere changed subtly from one of excited puzzlement to one of grave understanding. "I'm told that they're still having this nightmare?"

"Every night, Rider," the woman kneeling said, looking up. She looked drawn, and exhausted. The boy beside her stared at the ground still, immobile. "We thought it would have stopped by now, or... slackened off a bit, maybe not every night, you know? But it's as bad as ever."

"And not just every night," a man in his fifties said, moving forward. "Gwion sees it every time he sleeps. Every time. Four or five times a night it can be, and if he manages to sleep in the day. Bethan even sees it when she closes her eyes. Anything longer than blinking and it's there."

"Do you think you can help them?" the Mayor asked, looking mostly at Haf. "Is that why you've come?"

"Possibly," Haf said cautiously. "I'd like to see them all, if I may. Could I set up somewhere?"

"Certainly," the Mayor nodded, anxiously. "We'll round up the children. Do you need anywhere specific?"

"Hmm." Haf tipped her head to one side, apparently considering. She kept staring at the Mayor, though, who looked abruptly uncomfortable in an earnest sort of way. Aerona felt sorry for him. "Trees or rock. Any hazel around here? By a hazel tree would be good."

"Two streets that way," a teenaged girl said, pointing to a road off the main square. "We've got a full copse on the edge of the woods. I'm a carpenter," she added.

Haf nodded, and Aerona beamed.

"Lovely!" she said. "We'll set up there."

And that seemed to be that. The merod were led away to Brychan the blacksmith's barn, most of the crowd scattered to find children and the rest vanished to find food and drink for them. The Mayor stayed, and walked with them to the copse.

He sighed as the onlookers vanished, and gave Aerona a sad look.

"We're starting to get seriously worried by now," he told her, twisting his fingers nervously. "We just didn't think it would stay this bad for this long. Most have stopped talking. And it just doesn't feel right."

"How so?" Aerona asked. The Mayor looked miserable.

"Well, I don't know," he said wretchedly. "A bear attack. That's what it was, that's what they see. It's haunted them so badly they see it again and again. So tell me why it is that when the Dál Riadan caravan came through last week with a load of bear skins, still with the heads on, not one of those children so much as twitched? Makes no sense to me, Rider, Derwydd. No sense at all."

Haf's jaw tightened. Clearly, it made sense to her.

"Have you had any other druids here to see them?" Aerona asked carefully. The Mayor nodded.

"One. Not long after it happened," he said. "The same day, in fact. Itinerent druid, it was, from Casnewydd. He said it was shock, it was to be expected. Said it would wear off. Then after the Union Rider came to take the official report we had the same druid come back to see them again. Iolo Mynwy, his name was."

Which was one of the names in Aerona's pocket. She forced herself to nod gently.

"But no change?" she said. The Mayor shook his head.

"We've lost a generation," he said quietly, checking briefly over his shoulder to see that they were out of earshot. "A whole generation, Rider. That's what it feels like. Not that I tell anyone else that." He smiled nervously. "But it's just so hard to take. Saxons? If they'd been caught by Saxons it would be horrendous, but we'd have someone to blame. Disease? Tragic, but understandable. But this? A bear attack. A simple bear attack, and they're just... fading. Not dead, but you try and tell me that's living. All over a bear attack."

"We'll see what we can do," Aerona said gently. Inside she was almost screaming with rage, but she pushed it aside. "It might help to have a new druid, a fresh perspective. And we want to just - be as sure as we can that it definitely was nothing more than a bear attack."

"Oh?" The Mayor gave her an odd look, and quite suddenly Aerona could feel herself shifting into Alert Mode. "You think it could be more?"

You do, Aerona thought. Interesting.

"It's possible they're conflating memories," Haf said. She paused as they approached the copse of hazel and pulled off her shoes, wriggling her toes into the earth. "If so we can try seperating them."

"Do you think there's any chance it's more than a bear attack, Lord Mayor?" Aerona asked, carefully schooling her tone to light sincerity. He threw her that slightly odd look again as they pulled to a halt beside the trees, Haf leaning against one with her eyes closed.

"The physical evidence says that's what it was," he said, and then sighed, rubbing a hand wearily over his scalp. "No. I'm sorry. I don't know what to think. They didn't even blink at those bearskins, but even if they had - how can it be the same dream? How can they all have an identical dream? The druid said it was normal. And I've never doubted a druid before, Derwydd, but I've also never heard of this, and it's only been him to look at them."

"It's okay," Aerona said quietly, putting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing. "It is possible he's missed something, after all. Human error happens to the best of us. Haf's very good, we'll see what we can see. You said Derwydd Iolo was here the same day as the attack?"

"Turned up an hour later, maybe two," the Mayor nodded. "And the day after the Rider made the report, but he said the Union had sent him that time."

"Okay." In front of them, Haf stepped inside the loose circle of hazel trees and crouched down, sinking her fingers into the earth for a moment before turning back to them and smiling.

"This is good," she said, approving. "I'll set up. As many hazelnuts or catkins as you can find, Rider, and if you've an ox skin anywhere in town, Mayor, it would be extremely useful. Especially if it's red."

"I'll fetch one directly," the Mayor beamed, suddenly cheered by the task apparently, and scuttled off. Aerona bent to the grassy floor, covered in the first fall of nuts from the trees they stood under, and started to gather them into a pile.

"So he came to them twice," Aerona said as Haf grabbed a stick and started to draw a line around the trees. "Does that help?"

"Means it's less likely to be someone nearby doing it every night," Haf said. She was dropping a thin orange power into the groove the stick was leaving; it looked a lot like rust. "Could still be a lot of things, though. Do you think you could fetch him? Iolo Mynwy? I'd rather like to have him here."

"Possibly," Aerona nodded thoughtfully. "He's currently serving in the Temple to Arawn in Casnewydd. If he's there I could get him, certainly. Would it help?"

"It might," Haf sniffed. "It'll help more, though, if you're clearly apprehending him after I find that these children's minds have been thoroughly fucked. The people here will be less angry if they see justice."

"Very political," Aerona said, gloomily. But, in all fairness, she desperately wanted to hurt Iolo Mynwy, particularly after the Mayor's description of the effects on the children. And it would be a trip to Casnewydd, maybe Awen would be up for thumping some druids. She was certainly a girl who needed to let off some steam right now. "Alright. I'll get you started first, though, I want to know what you think after the first child."

It only took about quarter of an hour for Haf to be ready, the circle carefully filled with runes and swirling symbols and seven piles of different herbs that burned quietly, the vapours seeming almost to be staying inside the circle. A throng of people had gathered around it, anxious families holding vacant six-year-olds who walked silently, unsmiling and uninterested in their surroundings. Haf was whispering something to herself, sitting completely still on her heels, her hands resting lightly on her knees. Finally, she looked up, and Aerona was gratified to see that she had her Compassionate Healer Face on.

"Okay," she said gently, but her voice had mellowed, slightly richer than it had been. "Could I have the first?"

"Rhian," a man said, stumbling forward with a red-haired girl in his arms who stared blankly in front of herself. "Please? This is Rhian. She doesn't speak anymore..."

Haf raised her arms serenely, her own eyes slightly distant, and the man set Rhian down just inside the circle. Rhian paused for a moment and then stepped forward to Haf, her movements jerky as though she was on autopilot, and moved into Haf's arms. Gently, Haf guided her down until the child was sitting on her lap, leaning bonelessly against her chest.

"Good girl," Haf murmured, her fingers gently working themselves into Rhian's hair, her thumbs in the centre of her forehead. "That's it..."

And then Haf's eyes went completely blank, staring unseeing across the circle as she whispered something, a chant of some kind.

An unnatural silence seemed to roll in from the wood behind the circle. The birds fell silent, the wind dropping off suddenly as though someone had closed a giant window. Even the gentle, distant sound of the river seemed to abruptly mute itself. It was eerie.

It scraped across Aerona's nerves, too. She dropped into an uneasy crouch, fingers brushing the floor, trying her best to ignore her suddenly hyperactive instincts as she watched Haf and Rhian, both of them immobile in the circle. The townsfolk seemed unperturbed; some of them watched her, clearly slightly unnerved at the sight of an edgy Rider reacting to something. Aerona couldn't blame them. She couldn't explain it, either.

Finally, after what felt to Aerona's overwrought mind like an hour but was actually probably about a minute, Haf blinked, coming back to herself, and hugged Rhian close.

"Well?" the man asked, his voice tight. "Rhian? Is she -?"

"Aerona?" Haf asked. Her voice was still caught up in the rite, still richer and edgier than it should have been. "What did you draw?"

"Draw?" Aerona asked blankly, and looked down at the ground where her hand was resting. A rune was clearly marked in the soft earth beneath her fingers, dirt impacted under her fingernails. "Oh. What did you do?"

"Used a conduit," Haf said, smiling faintly. The townspeople drew surreptitiously closer, all trying to see the mark without crowding Aerona. "You're a Rider. Linked to the people and made of instincts. You people make the perfect diagnostic tools; you pick up on the danger. What did you draw?"

"An Ogham rune," Aerona said uneasily. "Muin, it looks like."

"Definitely," a woman said, leaning over Aerona's shoulder. "I worked a trade route with Erinn, once. That's muin."

"Oh," Haf said quietly. "I'll need to go deeper. She may not like it."

"Just help her," the man whispered, dropping to his knees hopelessly. "If it helps - "

"No. Rhian won't feel it," Haf said, and turned to look at Aerona. The slate-blue eyes seemed to pass right through her, and Aerona realised with a sinking heart what she meant.

"Oh," she sighed. "Everyone back away from me, please? Three or four metres."

"Thank you," the man said, turning and looking Aerona in the eye. "I don't know what it does to you, but - thank you."

"No need," Aerona said, bemused. "It's what I'm - "

She jerked to attention as the silence rolled in again, and this time the light seemed to dim as well, as though a cloud had rolled across the sun, and every single nerve ending in Aerona's body sprang to attention. The skin on her back felt like it was crawling, as though she was being watched from somewhere she couldn't see, making her instincts scream danger. The shadows around the trees changed, warping out of shape; something about the silence into the forest was wrong, very wrong, and Aerona stared in, the corners of her eyes seeing movement that ceased when she looked properly. And then it was everywhere, a surreptitious movement that she couldn't define, happening all around her and she couldn't stop it. She kept the crouch but backed up a step, one hand on the floor for support, the other moving to the hilt of the dagger in her belt as her heart-rate accelerated. The shadows were moving, Aerona realised with a thrill of horror. They were moving in from the forest, shifting closer when she turned her head, creeping unstoppably forward toward the people gathered around, and she couldn't stop them -

And then sound came back, the sunlight warm again on her face, and Aerona blinked. She had one arm out and ready, dagger drawn. The fingers of her other hand were still in the earth, cool and damp and soothing. Haf was looking through her again.

"I thought you'd rather you took it than her," she said distantly, and Aerona inhaled deeply, trying to shake the last vestiges of useless adrenaline while she sheathed the blade.

"I would," she said, pulling her hand back out of the soil and examining the results. "Um... muin again. And úath, and ngéadal, and... I think that's úr. And a Union symbol I can't translate in front of everyone. Oh, and that looks like luis."

Very gently, Haf detached herself from the unresponsive Rhian and stood, stepping towards the edge of the circle without leaving it. She looked down at the symbols for a long moment, and then nodded, turning abruptly back to the child.

"Bring him, Rider," she said, her voice suddenly like ice. "I was wrong. We'll need him."

Aerona stood swiftly, suddenly the centre of attention as the crowd looked sharply at her.

"Alive?" she asked, disappointed. Haf nodded, crouching back down to Rhian again.

"And conscious," she said. "But that's all."

"Bring who?" the Mayor asked, stepping forward. "Who do you need? What's wrong with them?"

"Iolo Mynwy," Aerona said grimly, to a horrified muttering from the crowd. She was back to being Very Cross Indeed. "Where was my meraden taken?"

"This way, Rider," Brychan the blacksmith said, stepping forward through the people. "It's not far."

"But why Iolo?" a woman was asking as Aerona stepped away, rising her voice over the gathering crowd disquiet. "He helped them, didn't he? Why him?"

"It's only ever been him," another man said grimly, and then Aerona was led around a corner, and they could no longer hear individual voices. The blacksmith glanced back at her, his eyes strained.

"Why do you need the druid, Rider?" he asked. "You want to kill him. Did he do it to them? Is that what's wrong?"

"We don't know," Aerona said, which was technically true. "But it's a working theory. Can you do two things for me?"

"Name them," the blacksmith said fervently, leading her around another corner and bringing her to the door of a barn. He pulled open the door and they slipped inside; Haf's gelding was placidly eating hay down one end, while Briallu swooped about in the rafters.

"Before I get back, make sure everyone knows that they absolutely cannot mob him," Aerona said. She whistled, and Briallu obediently flew down, landing at a trot and halting in front of her. "We need him conscious or we can't help those children. They'll have to restrain themselves."

"I'll tell them," Brychan nodded. He helped her unhook Briallu's harness and bridle with admirable speed from where he'd carefully folded them up to stop her getting tangled in the roof. "What else?"

"They're going to be angry with the druids," Aerona said, springing onto Briallu's back and clipping on the harness. The blacksmith did the other side. "It's human nature. A druid did it, so they'll want to distrust all druids. Make sure they realise that another druid is helping them, and the Urdd is going to lynch the man who did it. They need to recognise that he's the exception, not the rule."

"I will, Rider." They finished with the harness and he opened the door for her. Briallu was picking up on Aerona's urgency and nearly bolted out, turning fretfully on the spot once outside, her wings outstretched. Aerona looked back at Brychan.

"Thank you," she said. "I'll be back as soon as I can," and then Briallu kicked off the ground and soared away, south to Casnewydd.

**************

It was just before noon still when Aerona arrived in Casnewydd, and as some rather strange luck would have it she very nearly collided with Madog and Dylan on the runway as the Alpha Wing of Wrecsam prepared to leave. Even stranger was that Awen was leaning casually against a stable inside the tower behind the throng of merod, apparently seeing them off. Despite the urgency, Aerona giggled. There was some divine intervention going on, these days.

"Guys!" she said merrily, Saluting as Briallu halted, whinnying to the others. Madog's mare whickered back as he returned the Salute, staring at her.

"No way," he said, shaking his head. "You're doing this deliberately, aren't you? You're just following us."

"Aerona!" Dylan said brightly. "Are you my friend?"

"Such an embarrassment," Madog muttered, shaking his head and looking away. Aerona giggled as Dylan leaned across and punched him in the arm.

"Hey, at least I'm greeting her, you complete plebian," he said. "You're just accusatory."

"Whereas you're demanding," Madog said, although perhaps fortunately Awen managed to push her way through the merod at that moment to stand between them all on the runway. Although it was ill-advised, Aerona felt. That was extremely poor Health and Safety. It was a good job the children weren't here to see the poor example - and then she remembered the children of Cas-Gwent, and sobered instantly.

"Welcome to Casnewydd," Awen said mildly. "Sorry, it's not normally full of Northlanders."

The response from the Wrecsam Wing was swift, but good-natured.

"Hey!"

"Yeah, we're raising the tone."

"That accent and you think we're the problem?"

"Dylan."

"Sorry."

"We have a problem," Aerona said, and everyone immediately switched to We Are Serious Riders mode. Awen nodded, stepping forward and taking Briallu's bridle. It was a good idea; Briallu was jittering, enough to step straight off the runway if she wasn't careful.

"I rather thought we might," Awen said, glancing back at Madog, who stepped forward a few paces. "How serious? Do we need - ?"

"There are some insane druids in the country and one of them has crippled a lot of children in Cas-Gwent," Aerona said, and more than a few of the merod twitched, displaying their Riders' reactions. "And he's here, in Casnewydd. Or works here. We need to get him there, because I've got a druid there who thinks she can heal them, but only if we have him alive and conscious."

"Where does he work here?" Awen asked intently, and behind her Madog shook his head.

"Mental," he said. "Everything has gone mental. We're not leaving yet, guys, unpack. And back off the runway, I have horrible visions of us stampeding Leader Awen clean off the edge and it all being Dylan's fault."

"Yeah, it would be, too," one of his Riders said, and they backed up one by one.

"His name is Iolo Mynwy," Aerona said tensely, looking back down; but Awen instantly turned and headed back into the Landing Tower.

"Temple to Arawn," she said, dodging the merod nimbly. "I'll be right with you. Adara! Saddle up!"

"Oh, look at that," Madog said, his voice its standard deadpan. "She knows the names and locations of everyone in the City. I think I might just deify her as the patron of Alpha Wingleaders."

Despite herself, Aerona giggled.

"I got to read an RDR about her the other day," she said, watching as a stable hand hurriedly came out and removed the saddle bags from Madog's harness. He snorted, and threw her a look.

"Don't tell me," he said. "It was from when she was five and it said that she's so perfect she'll engender feelings of towering inadequacy in her peers once she definitely certainly makes Alpha Wingleader."

"Don't be like that, champ," Dylan said, riding back out. "You're only feeling inadequate because you had a Phoenician, but it's perfectly natural."

"You had a Phoenician?" Aerona perked up, interested. "Really? Canaanite or Nubian?"

"Nubian," Madog said, giving her a wry smile.

"Really?" Aerona wrestled with her sense of decorum, and lost. "And was he - ?"

"Very," Madog smirked. Dylan grinned.

"I was so close to seeing, as well," he said evilly. "But I thought I'd let Madog keep him."

"He was a bit weird, mind," Madog said pensively. "He had a Rider fetish."

"Do those exist?" Aerona asked apprehensively. "Why - ?"

"Right." Awen rode out on her monster of a meraden, her eyes hard. Wrecsam Riders moved aside to let her pass. "Did he definitely do it, or do we have to be gentle?"

"The evidence is overwhelming," Aerona assured her. "But we need him conscious for the sake of the darling children. They're distressing, by the way. They're all... blank."

"I won't bother with a carriage, then," Awen said, and Madog chuckled.

"Spirit when angered," he muttered to himself, and Awen gave him a very slightly abashed look. "Alright. Do we need anyone else? I've got a whole Wing here that can actually do work sometimes."

"You're a dick, Madog!" someone shouted from the back. Madog ignored them.

"Yes, actually," Aerona grinned, stifling the giggle as she pulled out the list. "Arrest these druids. We need them all, though, so you'll have to be discrete."

"We're screwed then," Dylan said.

"You're a dick, Dylan!" someone shouted. Dylan sniffed.

"I totally know that's you, Menna," he said. Awen took the list and scanned it before handing it to one of the Northlander Riders.

"The locations are on there," she said, and then leaned to the side to see into the Landing Tower, raising her voice. "Adara! Go with them."

"Coming!" Adara's voice called back, and Aerona grinned.

"Hi Adara!" she called brightly, Briallu snorting.

"Aerona," the voice called. "You came back! That's good."

There was a brief pause in which Madog and Awen glanced at each other, a look that exchanged a lot of empathetic despair at underlings, before Awen pushed Brân forward.

"Right," she said, "let's go," and leapt off the Landing Tower, her meraden's enormous wingspan unfurling before he dropped gracefully out of sight. Briallu followed enthusiastically, especially when Madog and Dylan followed on her heels, stretching out and trying to race them. Sometimes, Aerona thought, her meraden played games more than she did.

Awen led them at speed over Casnewydd's streets before plunging down towards a temple, its ambulatory containing one or two worshippers. They landed before the front door, a green-robed druid hurrying out to meet them, and then pausing slightly as Awen's meraden pranced, only folding his massive wings reluctantly. The druid paused until the immediate threat of decapitation seemed to be gone, and then stepped forward.

"Riders," she said, her tone surprised. "Welcome to the Temple to Arawn. Would you-?"

"Stay right there," Awen commanded her, and she froze. Aerona wasn't surprised. She was slightly scared of Awen now too, and moreso when Awen turned to face her. "Do you want to fetch him? It'll be easier than if I get down and back up again."

"Hey, I want to go," Dylan said. "Madog, tell them. Can I go?"

"Let's go together!" Aerona suggested brightly. She'd already undone the clips of the harness anyway, and was jumping lightly to the ground. "Race you!"

"Oh, it is on!" Dylan grinned, and was down so quickly Aerona wondered if he'd cut the straps. As they ran in past the green-robed druid Aerona had one last look at Awen and Madog, and saw the second long-suffering look they exchanged. Which seemed a tad unfair. Aerona wasn't even in Awen's Wing.

Inside the temple was dark, the only lights coming from the clusters of lit candles in their wall sconces every few metres or so, and the air was filled with the scents of burning herbs and beeswax. They were standing in a twenty-foot-square room, the shrine to Arawn in the centre marked with water and oil, while a narrow passage at the back led into a room presumably used for rituals and such. No one else was around. Automatically, Aerona and Dylan moved to seperate sides of the shrine to pass it, Aerona carefully slipping a dagger as noiselessly out of its sheath as she could. They didn't speak. They were hunting now.

A soft chanting was emanating from the passageway as they approached. It looked to be about two metres long and maybe three feet wide; not really enough to fit both of them at the same time. Dylan raised a hand and silently signalled her behind him, and Aerona obeyed. It made sense that way. Dylan was an active Rider, with far more practice than Aerona, and a Deputy at that. And it showed - the slightly scatty air he usually wore had given way to a man who moved like a panther, his normally roaming eyes fixed and hard. He stepped confidently into the passageway and Aerona followed, moving slightly sideways as she automatically fell into the function of watching their backs.

The room at the end, insofar as Aerona could make it out over Dylan's shoulder, was even darker, the embers of a small fire in the middle of the floor visible but, bizarrely, giving off no light to illuminate the room. The whispered chanting didn't stop, but Aerona couldn't see where the man was in the darkness. Dylan paused slightly, the muscles across his back tensing, and he very carefully dropped a hand behind him, signalling her to wait. Aerona dropped silently into a crouch. Something, she felt, wasn't quite right here. Something was very slightly wrong. Something -

"I knew," a voice hissed, and in the time it took to blink the silhouette of a robed man appeared at the end of the passageway, his hand raised to his mouth, palm up, and he blew something at Dylan's face. Dylan snarled and lashed out, catching the man across the jaw and knocking him back, but then he stepped back and flattened himself against the wall, one hand rising to his eyes, and Aerona realised with a stab of adrenaline that he was blinded.

"I felt you pushing at them," the druid said, out of sight again. Aerona shifted slightly closer, her mouth dry. "I felt a Rider. Was that you? Were you shielding them?"

Dylan moved forward, into the room, his stance ready to spring. Aerona moved cautiously to the mouth of the passageway. There was no sign of the druid, enveloped in darkness, and as he spoke his voice seemed to bounce around. How was he doing that? As Haf had said only this morning, they weren't magicians. It had to be a rite of some sort; they'd heard him chanting after all, and it was a temple.

"And what's your plan now?" Dylan snarled, his voice low. "What do you think happens next? Although you should know; if you've permanently blinded me I will feed you your rectum."

"I've not," Iolo's voice echoed back, mocking. Dylan cocked his head, trying to get a fix on it. Aerona scanned the floor. "But it won't help. I'll take your mind, Rider, seal it away with theirs; and the horrors you've seen and done are far worse."

A circle? Aerona squinted in the dark. Was that a circle on the floor, at the edge of the room? It could have been. Cautiously, she edged her fingers forward into the room, a few inches. A deeply scored groove met her fingertips, filled with something that felt like ash and grit and rust and seeds. She brushed at it, trying to make a gap.

"Why do it?" Dylan asked. He backed up to the wall, one hand flat against it, the other moving to his belt. "What the crap is wrong with you, anyway? Nice druiding."

"Because I am free," the voice hissed. In spite of the echoes it seemed to be coming closer; Aerona scrabbled at the dust. "Because I can see the truth of all. The truth they are afraid of, and seek to hide. Because -"

The ash parted and light from the small fire finally bounced into the room, revealing the figure in blue robes standing an inch away from Dylan, his hands raised around Dylan's head. He stepped back, shocked as the light reappeared, and looked around -

"I'm very cross," Aerona said, standing in the doorway, seething. "It was me with those children. I was quite ready to dismember you, but I'm told we need you alive, so I'm not going to yet. But now, look, now you've blinded my friend here and were about to torture him."

"You don't understand," the druid said, backing away. His hand was reaching for something behind him; Aerona advanced, and pretended she couldn't see. "The Urdd, all of them, it's like a conspiracy! They hide it from us, but we - "

"You torture kids, dude," Dylan muttered. "They don't. Your argument is error."

"We have the truth!" Iolo screamed, and Aerona reacted as his hand whirled up, twisting and ducking under the powder that sailed harmlessly past her. He lunged forward, aiming for the passageway, but Aerona flung out an arm, gripping his elbow and yanking it back as she jammed a boot into the backs of his knees. He went down, catching himself on one hand and went to get up -

- and Aerona calmly swiped her dagger across the backs of his thighs. Iolo screamed and dropped to the floor, instantly crippled, and Aerona nodded to herself. She generally avoided maiming people; it sat about as well with her as torture did, really, since it came to the same thing, so she liked to either kill people or not hurt them. But sometimes the classics were the best. And really, a hamstringing was the least of Iolo Mynwy's problems.

"He's down," Aerona said calmly, carefully cutting his robe off him to diminish the chance of him blinding people any more. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, good." Dylan was blinking and staring at the fire, the fingers of one hand hovering near his eyes. "It's wearing off, so it can just be an amusing jape that we'll all laugh about afterwards."

He looked down at Iolo for a second, clutching at the robe as Aerona tore it off him, and then very carefully stepped onto his hand. Aerona winced at the crunch and looked away. Apparently, she'd reached her limit.

"Lucky for you, isn't it, boy?" Dylan said evenly over Iolo's scream. "You think I'm a bastard? You would not have liked my Wingleader if that had been permanent. Need a hand?"

"Cheers," Aerona said, passing him half the robe and pulling Iolo's wrists back to bind them with the rest. "Will he be angry anyway? Madog, that is."

"Furious," Dylan said, his grin evil. "You know Wingleaders. But I'll be able to see to hold him back. Let's gag him."

"I'm going to assume you don't mean Madog," Aerona giggled, merrily forcing more of the cloth into Iolo's mouth. "Okay, I'm done."

Dylan paused for a moment to wipe his eyes again and then yanked Iolo up by his hair, hauling him onto his shoulder. Aerona resheathed her dagger and stood, stretching, to allow Dylan to go first. They made their way back out.

Outside Adara had joined them, having a rapid conversation with Awen. Aerona had to blink a few times as her eyes readjusted in the sun; she wondered how much worse it was for Dylan.

"One naked, bound druid!" Dylan announced. "So it's a good job he's not going with you, Madog."

"I wish I had a better Deputy," Madog sighed mock-morosely as Dylan threw Iolo over Brân's back behind Awen. Aerona helped him tie him on. "I really do."

"Ours was both worse and oily," Adara said disdainfully, and Awen grinned.

"Yeah, gift horse," she said. Dylan finished his side and walked back out into view of the others. "He hasn't stabbed you. Trust me, he could be worse."

"Yes, but only by actually stabbing me," Madog grumbled. "And I think he only hasn't because fucking hell what happened?"

"Good gods," Adara muttered.

"Yeah, one sec," Dylan said, darting back inside. Aerona finished and took Briallu's reins back from Awen and mounted quickly. Madog spun around to face her.

"What happened to his eyes?" he asked, the rage and horror evident. Aerona sighed.

"Er... Iolo had some kind of weird powder he blew into Dylan's face," she said cautiously. "Which blinded him temporarily we need him alive and conscious!"

Fortunately, Awen was quick off the mark at moving Brân out of Madog's reach. In the sudden scramble of merod Adara managed to push herself between them, her red kite screaming from the temple roof, while Madog roughly worked to keep Calon on the ground.

"Afterwards," Awen said urgently, her voice low and intense. She locked eyes with Madog as he fought Calon with one hand, the other gripping a sword from his back so tightly his knuckles had gone white, and Aerona got to witness their third Wingleader look; but this one was different. This one was a plea, and a promise, made in perfect understanding. "You can have him once it's finished."

Madog's gaze dropped to Iolo, his jaw working, and then he nodded.

"Agreed," he said shortly, sheathing the sword and turning Calon back towards the temple. "Temporary, yes? Did it hurt him?"

"Not badly," Aerona said, exchanging a glance with Awen, who shook her head very slightly. Although at that point Dylan came back out again.

Aerona could see why Madog's reaction was so strong. Dylan's eyes had gone red, as though he'd been rubbing at them for a while, which by itself might have been a bit distressing, but more shocking was the skin around his eyes. His eyelids had almost entirely discoloured, the skin so dark it was nearly black, and small tendrils tracked outward as high as his eyebrows and as low as his cheekbones. It was reminiscent of the coal dust that seeped into miners' veins from a cut. His face was wet as he went to take the reins back, and Aerona guessed he'd been rinsing his eyes.

"'Sup, bitches," he said casually. Madog leaned forward and grabbed his chin, studying his face.

"Did it hurt?" he asked, his sudden calm scarier than his previous anger. Dylan snorted and pulled back, mounting up in one graceful leap.

"Yeah, it was agony," he grinned. "But I nobly coped, because I'm tough and cool. Shall we go?"

They sprang into the air again, Awen naturally taking point, and sped away from Casnewydd's urban sprawl over the stretching countryside beneath. They took it slightly more slowly than Aerona had on the way, probably because Awen was carrying a passenger and didn't want to push her meraden. Madog's simmering anger was showing no signs of abating as they went.

"Are we there yet?" Dylan asked after about thirty seconds. Adara threw him a glance.

"Oh, you're one of those," she said, mock disapprovingly. "Have we stopped yet? Because if the answer is 'no' you have both answers."

"Where are we going?" Dylan persisted. Aerona giggled as Awen sighed.

"Cas-Gwent," she said. "Lovely place, right on the border, big trading post. Not my favourite neck of the woods, mind."

"Is that because of your near-fatal injury there?" Aerona asked, and was treated to a stare.

"Gods, don't remind me," Adara shuddered.

"Why on earth do you know about that?" Awen asked blankly. "What's that -?"

"Ooh, what happened?" Dylan asked with ghoulish enthusiasm. "Was there blood? How much blood was there?"

"Loads," Adara said darkly, Aerona ignoring Awen's bewildered look. "There was a boy, and a Saxon, and she jumped in the way, and the axe cut her open from ribs to mid-thigh. Miracle she only caught the edge; any closer and it would have taken her ribs, too."

"But the bantam human was okay?" Dylan asked. Madog sighed.

"Children, Dylan, children," he muttered. Awen nodded.

"He was fine," she shrugged. "So they told me."

"Good for you!" Aerona said merrily. Awen threw her a look.

"Thanks," she said uncomfortably. Her fingers found her ribs on her left side, an apparently unconscious move. "So... why do you know that?"

Aerona sighed.

"Well, it's a bit..." she started, and then stopped. There was just no way she was going to be able to tell this story without Awen blaming herself, no matter how she looked at it. And Adara was likely to be angry. "There's an earlier bit," Aerona tried again. "Back when you guys were about sixteen. Did Owain still want to be a bard at that point?"

Adara snorted, the contempt almost visible.

"You have been reading up," Awen observed. "Yes, I think so. What happened?"

"Um..." Aerona paused, wondering how to phrase it. "Well," she said uneasily. "I think he wanted to - he wasn't any good, was he? At being a bard. Worse than you? Did he still want to be better than you at that point?"

"Never stopped wanting to be better than her," Adara said disdainfully. "Seriously. He'd have grown breasts if he could have."

"He wasn't good at it, no," Awen said, her tone guarded. "What happened?"

"I think he was trying to give himself an edge," Aerona said carefully. "But he went up a mountain back then. And stayed overnight."

It had been worth telling just for Adara's reaction, Aerona felt; her meraden actually dipped in his flightpath, having to resurface again for her to shout. The result was that Dylan got there first.

"No way!" Dylan said, his eyes widening. The black was starting to look rather fetching, Aerona felt, almost like war paint. "Complete retard! That's why he's a loser now? He's mental?"

"Sixteen?" Adara shouted, apparently horrified. "He was sixteen?"

"I think so," Aerona said, watching Awen. Her face had frozen, expression unreadable. "But he was certified sound at the time. By another druid who'd done the same thing; I think there's a sub-cult of them about the country."

"Ah," Dylan nodded. "That's why my boy Iolo there was talking about being able to see things. They're all mental."

"Yes, seem to be," Aerona agreed. "I think that's why you never knew about him, though, Awen. He had druidic help to hide. And you were so young when it happened-"

"Why Cas-Gwent?" Awen interrupted. "Why do you know about that? Why has this guy been targetting the children there?"

"Ooh, she's sharp, this one," Dylan said sagaciously. "Okay, new rule for the day trip; no angsty Wingleaders. Only one of you is allowed to be less than cheery at any one time. Stop glaring, Madog."

"Yeah, it's my turn," Awen said. "I'm not asking you again, Aerona."

"I know," Aerona said wretchedly. "It's just that you're going to blame yourself instead of Owain, when it's completely his fault. Well, his and Iolo's, there-"

"My boy Iolo," Dylan interrupted proudly. "I gave my eyes for that epithet."

"You're already blaming yourself too much right now," Adara said seriously, looking at Awen. "I don't think -"

"Aerona," Awen said, and her voice was bladed. Aerona tried not to shrink away.

"Okay," she said, trying not to squeak. "How about, you have to promise to see it from my perspective?"

"What?" Awen asked wryly. "Full of kittens?"

"As though it wasn't you in the story," Madog interjected. He sounded grave still, but seemed to be calming down. "Once you've heard it, imagine if it had happened between - I don't know, Dylan and me. And imagine if I was blaming myself for it, and if you'd agree."

"Brilliant!" Aerona said, and if she hadn't had her hands full of reins she'd have clapped. "That's exactly what I mean! Imagine kittens too, though, if you want. Okay - Owain was considering Riders to be better than everyone else, that's the first point." She ignored Adara choking. "Now, in Cas-Gwent a year ago, some Saxons raided. You jumped in front of an axe to spare an adorable six-year-old called Dewi, and nearly died. Owain took you to the Temple to Lleu in Casnewydd, sewed you back together, you're fine. But. It was a close call."

"It would be," Madog winced. "Axes are nasty. Well done."

"I still dream about it sometimes," Adara shuddered. "I genuinely mean that."

"Anyway, over the course of healing you with the druid there Owain had this extended diatribe about how Dewi wasn't worth it," Aerona sighed. "This is the nasty bit, I'm sorry. He went back to Cas-Gwent. With Dylan's boy Iolo there, and please remember, we need him alive and conscious. It was the job of the children to go blackberry picking in the woods. Owain waited until they went, and were alone. And then..." she paused again, adjusting her phrasing to be as neutral as possible. "Then he killed Dewi. Disguised it as a bear attack, and warned them all to keep quiet. Then Iolo - sorry, your boy Iolo - here changed their memories of it. Twisted them, so that they remember a bear that walked like a man. And he makes them dream it, every night."

There was a pregnant silence, and Aerona had to look away from Awen's eyes.

"But - we need him awake," Awen said at last. It hurt to hear her voice. Adara looked at her, clearly upset. Aerona nodded.

"Yes," she said. "Sorry."

"We'll share him," Madog said darkly. "How about... we take it in turns to cut bits off until we have half each?"

Awen nodded, her eyes smouldering. Even Dylan seemed to have gone silent, his gaze steady for once, bound by his damaged eyes. Aerona shuddered.

***************

As it turned out, Aerona needn't have worried about her first instruction to Brychan the blacksmith; any desire to attack Iolo the second they landed melted away when they saw Awen. It was a combined effect, partly formed of Awen being their Alpha Wingleader and very much their authority in their eyes, and partly formed of how terrifying her face looked right now. She rode Brân's enormous frame through the muttering, roiling crowd and straight to the clearing where Aerona had left Haf, still kneeling in the circle but this time with no child present. The layout of the circle had been changed; now it contained a further three circles across its diameter in a line, Haf sitting in the central one, facing the second, her back to the third. She had her eyes closed as they approached, muttering something under her breath, but she flinched and looked up as Awen stopped before her, her slate-blue gaze very briefly fearful before settling back to impassive. Aerona wondered how much of an echo Awen was giving off right now. It couldn't be pleasant to experience.

"Awen, this is Derwydd Haf," Aerona said, dismounting quickly and handing her reins to the first person she saw before hastily untying Iolo from Awen's harness. Madog was helping on the other side, his jaw tight again. "Haf, this is -"

"Awen, Madog, Dylan, Adara," Haf said, nodding. "I can tell. Thank you, Riders."

"You're welcome," Dylan said. "He put stuff in my eyes and made me blind. Can you do that to him?"

"Sorry," Madog said, clearly automatically. "My Deputy is an ingrate. Where do you want Iolo?"

"My boy Iolo," Dylan corrected. He was unclipping Awen's harness for her, one hand on her knee, and Aerona realised she was doing the same thing on the other side, both of them trying vainly to soothe her. Adara was hovering, clearly wanting to stay close there. "Do you need the gag off? I broke his hand, he screams without it."

"He did," Aerona nodded. "It was really horrible."

"It can stay," Haf said. "Just drop him in the circle. I need to see his mind first."

Madog dumped Iolo unceremoniously over the line into the small circle in front of Haf and stood back. Awen leaped down off of Brân, and looked at the assembled townspeople.

"I need to see the parents of Dewi," she said quietly. The silence spread back, coupled with a general shuffling of feet and people looking behind them until the man from earlier stepped forward, Rhian still clutched in his arms.

"I'm his father, Rider," he said, his voice shaking slightly. "This is Rhian, his sister."

Awen stepped over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing.

"Come with me," she said quietly. "We need to talk."

They vanished among the crowd, Adara's pained eyes watching them go, and Madog sighed.

"She's not having a good week," he muttered to Adara's sorrowful look, and took hold of Dylan's chin again, examining his eyes. "It looks painful."

"Don't be a square," Dylan said. "I've had far worse. Although does it look cool? Tell me it looks cool."

"Actually, it does, I think," Aerona said. "You look creepy. I wonder if it's permanent?"

"Better not be," Madog muttered, and they looked back at the circle.

Iolo was lying on his back with his head on Haf's lap, still bound and naked, his legs covered with blood from the wounds on his thighs. Haf had carefully worked her fingers into his hair, thumbs on his forehead, the same stance she'd taken with Rhian earlier, and was staring blank-eyed across her circle again. Iolo looked vacant; but as they watched his eyelids flickered, and Haf blinked and flinched, breaking her trance.

"Son of a bitch," she muttered, and looked up. Aerona found she'd moved herself right to the edge of the circle in her sudden concern.

"What is it?" she asked anxiously. "Are you okay? Did he do something?"

"Traditionally you're meant to let me answer before moving on to the next question," Haf said, her usual bite muffled by her slightly distant tone. Adara snorted.

"She doesn't, does she?" she said. "What a big eager."

"Well, you're okay, then," Aerona said, relieved. "So what is it?"

"The footprint," Haf said, apparently pulling out her box of analogies again. Aerona crouched down, the better to hear the quiet words. "But with something else. A doorway. Or a passageway. Once they're in the dream, they try to run and hide, and he gives them just one exit. Every time they dream it, he takes a little bit more of them. That's why they don't speak. The Mayor was right. They function; they don't live. He's taken too much of them for them to live."

Aerona barely noticed the uproar behind her, the angry townspeople surging forward to be held back by the other Riders. She leaned forward, staring at Haf's transparent gaze.

"Where does he put them?" she asked, desperately. "I mean... you can fetch them back, can't you? They aren't gone?"

"I told you before about the space in his head," Haf said. "Filled with something else."

"Yes?"

"That's how he does it," Haf said, her voice somehow carrying over he shouting. "That's where he keeps them. What gets in has no mind, as we'd understand it. That's why it's drawn to the one who loses theirs. But it also craves others. It's why I didn't think of it," she added. "Before. When I spoke to you. This isn't something a druid with a whole mind could even do, much less think of."

"Can you get them back?" Aerona asked, and the noise behind her dropped as everyone froze, straining for the answer.

"I can try," Haf said. "But it will be difficult. And I can't guarentee them all. And he'll fight me."

"Mentally?" Awen's voice asked behind Aerona. She knelt down at the circle's edge herself, watching Haf carefully. "Can he fight you if he's in pain?"

There was a pause as Haf, a druid inherently opposed to torture, considered that.

"Nowhere near as well," she said finally. "But he needs to stay alive and awake-"

"I can keep him awake," Awen assured her with a frankly chilling certainty. "And alive. For as long as you need. I only need his foot."

"Good gods you are creepier than Dylan's eyes, Awen," Aerona muttered. "What do you need, Haf?"

"Just the children now, one by one," she said, carefully lowering Iolo's head to the floor and looking behind her. "In that circle. Leader? You'll need to distract him for me while I put them under."

"With pleasure," Awen said, a distinctly cruel smile playing across her mouth. Aerona looked at Dewi's father instead; he was rushing forward again, Rhian in his arms.

"Rhian first, please!" he begged, pushing past a baker. "She's all that's left! Please!"

"Give her to Aerona," Haf said. She was running a finger through one of the burned-out piles of herbs on the floor, covering it in ash. "Only Riders crossing the circle, now."

"Hey, cool," Dylan said. "I've never been in a secret club before."

"Do shut up, Dylan," Madog muttered wearily. Aerona stood and gently took Rhian's unresisting form out of her father's arms. She walked around the circle and stepped inside, sitting the child in the third circle. Haf drew a line of the ash down Rhian's forehead, stopping at the bridge of her nose, and looked up at Aerona.

"If you wish you can stay there with her," she said quietly. "You won't be able to shield her, but you'll provide her with a foundation. Something to cling to as being genuinely safe."

"Really?" Aerona brightened up considerably. "I'd love to!"

"I think Aerona is part kitten."

"Dylan."

"Sorry."

Aerona sat, cross-legged, holding Rhian close. Haf stroked the ash down her forehead too, and then guided her hands onto Rhian's head. Across the circle, Awen had pulled something long and thin out of a pouch on her belt; it looked like wire, or a needle. Aerona shuddered and looked away.

"You'll feel a bit like you're sort of, spacing out," Haf said. "Like when you're tired. Don't fight it. Go unfocused. Feel protective. Ready?"

"Definitely," Aerona smiled. Haf nodded, positioning her fingers around Rhian's skull.

"If you would, Leader," she said, closing her eyes, and the last thing Aerona was properly aware of hearing was Iolo's gagged scream, lancing through the trees and bouncing off the buildings before everything suddenly became...

... distant. Dream-like, almost. An outer part of Aerona was aware of her surroundings, could see the people, smell the smoke and leaves, hear the screaming, feel the wind, but it felt so very far away, so unimportant. It felt like it was happening to someone else. Dimly, she hoped someone else would take care of it. It was nice, just drifting, content to just... be...

But there was something important. The breeze on her skin, the ground beneath her, the uniform she wore; she felt them all detachedly, but not... The girl in her arms. The girl in her arms, clutched close; so small, and vulnerable, and precious. Aerona's senses ignored the world around them, wilfully blinding herself to everything else, and focused only on the child. There were things, something that she could only vaguely feel, some odd tingling in the back of her mind that was bad, something bad, coming for the girl, and Aerona tightened her arms, almost snarling. It couldn't happen. It couldn't happen. She wouldn't let it.

The girl was crying. Small hands grabbed for Aerona, the small body desperately clinging to her, and Aerona held on. She was important, this girl was important, and she needed protecting, and Aerona had to protect her from... from...

"Awaken, Rider," Haf whispered, and Aerona blinked. Rhian was clinging to her with a grip like a limpet, sobbing hysterically against her shoulder, the sound undercut with the dreadful, thankfully-muffled scream Iolo was still making. Rhian's father was on his knees inches away, still on the other side of the circle, the tears running down his cheeks as he stared at his daughter. And everyone seemed to be talking at once.

Carefully, Aerona gathered Rhian into her arms and turned to her father. Passing the child across proved trickier than expected; she refused to let go of Aerona, until in the end Aerona turned her back to the man so that Rhian faced him over her shoulder and gently ran her fingers through Rhian's hair.

"You're safe now, Rhian," Aerona whispered. "Open your eyes. It's okay."

She did, and saw her father.

"Daddy!" she screamed, and finally Aerona could pass her across.

"Well," Haf said. "If they all go like that we'll be fine. I should say, mind, that this is a deeply unpleasant experience. And we'll be here a while, there are seventeen of them."

"I can keep this up," Awen offered placidly, and Haf snorted.

"Oh yeah, and she terrifies me," she told Aerona, jerking her head at Awen. "Just so you know. Anyway. Can you do that another seventeen times? I should warn you again, it's going to hurt if we can't save one."

"So?" Aerona said, blankly, and Haf gave her a look.

"Oh, who didn't see that coming?" she asked facetiously. "Fine. Grab the next one. We'll crack on."