The boy watched for a while. The wind was whistling high and sharp, and it tore the words from Caewen’s lips as she spoke. Although the boy’s hearing had retained most of its sharpness since the poisoning, he still couldn’t make out much of the conversation. But stranger than this, he could make out none of the other side of the conversation at all. As far as he could tell, Caewen was just speaking back and forth with silence.
”–I understand, but–” Whistling of winds. “–to live is to risk death and–” Rise and fall of tearing gales. “–if you might, then you should. Travel afar, go and see what the world has become and–” Rattling noises of stones dislodged by the high winds, somewhere on the cliff sides. “–then come and find me. You will see that the world is–” And more harsh, whispering airs.
After a minute or two, the conversation seemed to ebb, or the invisible thing Caewen was speaking to simply went away. She stood there silently, for some good few moments longer; cloak flying and whipping in the wind; hair lashing. The shadow-thing kept snarling and simpering. It was not pleased.
After watching for a time, the boy cleared his voice.
“Yes?” said Caewen.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to spy but–“
She smiled. “I knew you were there. The talk was not secret.”
“Who were you speaking with? I couldn’t see anyone.”
“I wasn’t speaking with anyone here. If a person knows the ways of the winds, and the patterns in the stormy clouds, then a voice can be sent a long way. I was speaking with the sleeping queen. We are not yet too far away. I spoke with her yesterday too, though no one saw me doing it.”
“I do not like it. Tssch. Tsss. Do not. No.”
“You wouldn’t,” said Caewen with a laugh. “You sent us into the darkness expecting only to find old weapons, not the possibility of secret friends. And a friend in these bleak times is a friend indeed.”
“What were you saying? I couldn’t hear it all.”
A shrug. A sad glance down at the satin-smooth colours of the landscape, far away, grey and slipping into twilight. “I am doing my best to convince the lady that she should venture forth from her little queendom in the darkness. She has that power. True: her body of breathing flesh must stay where it lies; but her mind can make flesh of faery-stuff and enchantment, and wander where it will.” She shook her head. Frowned. “But too long in darkness and aloneness is not good for anyone. I fear she may already be too afraid to step outside the boundaries of her living tomb.”
“Oh,” said the boy. He had other questions but didn’t want to drone on with them. He was always a bit worried that the others would grow tired of his unworldliness and stop answering altogether, or switch to abrupt nothing-answers out of irritation.
Caewen sat down cross-legged on the round prominence of stone and patted the ground beside her. “Come. Sit for a bit.”
He stepped off the path, taking care not to slip. The ground was covered in loose fractured slate, and there were sheer drops everywhere he looked. This was not a place meant for a quiet roadside rest. And also, he was still wary of the shadow-demon, so did his best to give the creature a bit of a berth, whilst also not falling to his death.
All in all, he was happy to reach the bulbous cap of stone, and sit down on solid rock.
Wind tore at him. The air was even colder and rougher than it had been at the mouth of the tunnel. He felt certain that if he threw a small rock off the side, there was a good chance it would shoot straight up into the sky, so strong were the winds.