It was night time. She must have been down there for hours and hours. Standing in the dark, not moving. No wonder she felt strange. Where were the birds now? The forest was quiet.

‘Are you hurt? What happened?’

‘Time enough for that later.’ The other man’s voice was quiet, deep, calm. By his side stood the grey dog, as steadfast as its master.

‘This is Grim,’ Gormán said. ‘There’s quite a search on for you. A lot of folk out.’

‘Mistress Blackthorn’s Grim,’ Cara said, thinking she would have known this without being told his name. Mistress Blackthorn didn’t talk about her friend much, but she had said enough for it to be quite plain who this was. A tall, broad man, bigger than anyone else in the district. Kind. Strong. Calm. Good at whatever he did. A man with big hands, who’d made that delicate little hedgehog.

‘That’s me, and this is Ripple. Best get you home, mm?’ He waited a moment, then said, ‘Good bit of climbing, that. Strong and steady. Well done.’

His kindness brought tears to her eyes. ‘There were – there were things, folk –’ No, she couldn’t talk about what was down there, not even to Gormán. Not even to this man who was like Blackthorn, a person she knew straight away was trustworthy. ‘I couldn’t wait for you to come down.’

‘Home,’ said Gormán. ‘Your father is distraught, and there are people out looking for you all over the forest. Can you walk on your own?’

Silly question. Hadn’t she just climbed that rope all by herself? ‘Of course,’ Cara said as her knees buckled under her and the forest turned to a swirling darkness and then to nothing.

Chapter Twenty-one: Grim

21

~Grim~

Good result. Girl seems all right, no bones broken though she’s worn herself out. Can’t tell us what happened to her. Or doesn’t want to. Not for me to ask anyway. This Cara, she’s not a big girl like Emer, she’s thin as a young willow. But strong. Can’t believe she shinned up that rope so quick. That’d be quite a trick for anyone. Though Blackthorn did say the girl liked climbing trees. Sounds like there was something down there that gave her a fright. Can’t help thinking of Bardán and how he fell down into the Otherworld and couldn’t get back for years and years. Can’t help wondering if it’s the same spot. Oddest thing was those birds coming, all kinds together, just when we were going to give up and go looking somewhere else. And Gormán knowing straight away why they were flying around screeching and flapping their wings in our faces. She’s down there, he said. Cara’s down there. And she was.