When I finally did try it, it felt like a whole new world of colours en sensations swept over me. If my old version had felt like scurrying around in a small pool with fairly clear water and a lot of pebbles on the bottom; this was like taking an unexpected dive into a lake full of tiny shimmering fish and wavy seaweed in many hues of green. I could only imagine what it would feel like to have the really fancy stuff.
Feeling somewhat mischievous and, I admit, very reckless, I made a guide string to look up the location the hooded guy.

He was still following us it seemed. He had settled himself somewhere outside this town, but not far. I wondered what to do if we reached Redwood and he was still there. Would he really risk so much, just for this sword? I wished I understood more of this. It certainly seemed that not only Millie thought that her precious trophy was something special. And the cloaked guy had proven himself with much more brain and understanding than she, unless he was bluffing of course. I didn’t think he was, though. I thought that if he simply had wanted to brag, he would have spilled his beans long before now. No, there was certainly a lot of secrecy; he had even bluntly told me so. Yes, I began to wonder whether I was missing something.

Now I could almost see what he was doing, that’s how sensitive my new network update was. I allowed myself to kind of circle around him, gathering information on his surroundings. I wish I could look into his head, know what he was planning. Unfortunately, not a single version of the network could do that, however highly advanced it was. All the same, I tried to learn as much as I could by what the data provided me, until suddenly, my images seemed to freeze.
It was only a fleeting sensation, come and gone within the blink of an eye. Yet, in that short moment I could have sworn that I was not alone in my lake of colourful statistics. Or rather; it was reminiscent to that moment where I had pulled away the mask from his face, staring up into his familiar features.
I pulled back. Probably it was just a hiccough in the system, I told myself. It wasn’t as if we had actually looked at each other, as if he’d known I was there - spying on him. Besides, spying was not what it was at all! Just a simple surveying of tiny parts of information. The place where he had sat down, the road he had travelled on, the rock he leaned his back on - all these things were not his personal belonging, nor did they hide him.
They were just things.
It was just a place.
He happened to be there, that’s all.
Yeah, right.



Chapter Thirteen
No jokes, please

Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. Millie was thinking it, Cuckoo and the others were thinking it, even I thought it by the end of this chapter: thirteen is the number of bad luck.

Once I had purchased the network update and had tested it to reasonable satisfaction, we had no choice but to tell the Rough Rebels that we had finished our business.
The weather had turned horribly, horribly bleak and I had never longed so much for Grans chicken soup as I did now.
We rode on, through a stormy rain that soaked everything through and through. It seemed that even the merry men of The Cult had lost their charm and especially their wit and jokes. Only Cuckoo remained calm, whistling a tune through his teeth as he led the way. It did not help to keep the horses down, as they were jumpy because of the sudden gusts of wind and rain and clearly signalled that they much preferred to move their rear to the rain. However it did help me to keep up a bit. It was something to concentrate on, even if the notes were horrible off key.

At a certain moment our little procession slowed down notoriously. I called out to Cuckoo, asking where we were but he just shrugged and shook his head. Turning to Millie, I saw her already fumbling with the map, trying to prevent it from becoming wet - a mission doomed to fail.
Before she could pinpoint our location properly, a particularly violent gust of wind swept the sheet of paper out of her hands, making it spin in the air; for a moment looking much like a very lonely, disorientated autumn leave, unable to tell if it was going to fall or float. Then it plunged down close to me.
My horse gave a jump and I, unable to restrain it, felt a swooping sensation as it raced away, leaving me barely sitting in the saddle.
I lost a stirrup. Then I lost my balance.
My other foot, slippery from rain and mud, had slid too far into the other stirrup. My boot hooked behind the steel as I fell, so that I was dragged behind the stampeding legs of the panic-stricken animal. It was a terrifying experience and I shut my eyes tightly, expecting to be trampled on any moment.
Then, unexpectedly, the horse came to an abrupt, staggering halt. I lay limply in the mud, feeling that, if I moved and discovered that all my bones were broken, I would start to cry tremendously.
Someone freed my foot from the stirrup, making it easier for me to lie down. As I pulled my tormented leg underneath me, I felt such a stinging pain that it left me gasping out loud.

My face was burrowed deep in the layer of muddy pools. I could feel the taste of sand and rainwater in my mouth. Somewhere in the back of my mind I registered that the sensation of this mud was actually rather comfortable: it was soft, it was dark and somehow soothing.
Then, two hands pulled at my shoulders, lifting me up from the pool.
I couldn’t see a thing, partly because the mud and partly because of my own tears that were streaming out of my eyes like a waterfall falling down in cascading sequences.
‘Deep breaths, if you can,’ a voice said.
I obeyed, not caring that this voice was too familiar. I felt like my midriff was bruised and for a few moments the breathing was difficult: hard and jagged.
Then, slowly, the worst searing began to ebb away. My mind cleared up enough for me to reach up an arm and wipe most of the mud from my face. It was only then that I could see how dirty my clothes had become.
The red fabric of my apron was ragged and covered with stains, like dark stars in a constellation of dirt. It was hard to tell that the dress underneath that had ever been white.

‘That was a lucky fall,’ the cloaked guy said as he squatted beside me. With one hand he held both the reins of his own horse and mine. With the other, he was supporting my elbow as I had heaved myself to a wobbly position.
‘You call that lucky?’ I sobbed, ashamed of myself but quite unable to stop it.
‘Anyone would call it lucky, had they seen the way you were being dragged,’ he replied. ‘How’s your leg?’
‘I dunno,’ I mumbled, fearing the worst. I wasn’t exactly prepared to find out that it was ready for amputation.
‘Can you move it?’
I nodded. ‘But it hurts so much.’
‘That’s okay, as long as you can move it properly.’
‘It’s not okay!’ I cried. ‘I could have died!’
He handed me a handkerchief that he’d pulled from one of his pockets. ‘Your face looks terrible.’
As I wiped my face more thoroughly, I noticed how the fabric of this kerchief was very fine indeed. He most definitely was no poor man’s son.
‘Can you get up?’ he asked, but not waiting for the answer. He pulled me on my feet anyway.

I swayed and then found my balance, though I had to seek support on one of the horses.
‘It seems your animal has sprained one of its legs,’ the cloaked guy said. He sounded almost apologetic, though I could not tell why. In my opinion, even if the horse had broken all of its legs it would still be its own stupid fault.
It was a problem however.
‘I can’t travel without a horse,’ I said, my voice still sounding feeble. ‘And I can’t walk all the way to a village or town, my leg hurts too much.’
The guy looked down on me for a bit, seemingly considering his options. Then he drew his own horse closer, offering me an arm. ‘I’ll push you up,’ he said. ‘Just cling on to the saddle’s top, it’ll be alright.’
I hesitated only a moment. As much as I told myself to hate his help, part of me was very grateful that this guy seemed to be holding less of a grudge than I was.
Slightly embarrassed I clambered up, aided by his arm. He simply grabbed both reins again and led the two horses up to the hillside.
Only now I felt how completely soaked I had become. The fall to the ground had not only bruised me severely, it had also damaged my clothing beyond repair. I thought I felt something bleed near my left eye. It was not a comfortable thought that I must look like a stray child, completely wildered. My hair was all over the place, strands sticking together with mud as if they had been glued together.
To distract myself from my miserable condition, I mustered a relatively steady voice, asking: ‘Where did you come from anyway?’
He briefly glanced over his shoulder. ‘I was behind you all along.’
‘Oh.’ It did make sense that he had been trailing us closely, as he had always done. ‘You were very quick to react.’
‘I’m a skilled rider,’ was all he answered.
‘Well…thank you.’
He nodded. As I could think of nothing more to say, I felt back to the silent staring.
It did not take long for us to reach the party. They had dismounted and were apparently looking for me in all the wrong places. Millie looked shaken. Cuckoo had ceased his whistling and seemed a little pale in the face himself. When they spotted me, indecorously balancing on a strange horse, Millie’s face turned from scared to bewildered to relieved.
‘I’m so glad you’re okay!’ she cried as she hurried towards us.
The cloaked guy helped me off. I swayed a little. Millie quickly grabbed my hand and led me to some dry place where I could sit down.
‘You’re not injured, are you?’ she asked.
I shook my head, giving her a weary smile. ‘My leg hurts like hell and I feel bruised all over but I think I’m alright. No broken bones or internal bleedings as far as I can tell.’
‘Good,’ she breathed and immediately after: ‘I’m so sorry! I was fumbling with that map and it really just slipped through my fingers, but I should have been more careful.’
‘I guess,’ I said, rubbing my head. It was the only limb apart from my leg that really throbbed with pain. ‘You’re quite forgiven Millie. Ow!’
She winced on my behalf, a gesture that I appreciated.

After a little while I looked up to see that the cloaked guy was still there, standing awkwardly in the middle of some very intimidating Rough Rebels.
‘It’s okay,’ I croaked, feeling a rush of irritation at both the rebels and the mysterious young man. ‘The guy just saved my life, there’s no need to glare at them like that. Give him a cookie or something.’
‘I’m no dog, miss,’ the guy retorted, sounding resentful. ‘But I was pleased to be of service.’
I looked to the ground feeling embarrassed. I more or less owned him now - something that I wasn’t very comfortable with.
‘We will take a break until you are feeling a bit more fit to continue, Daffodil,’ Ladybug said as he unpacked some things, setting up an improvised tent of oiled cloth of sticks. If nothing else, it would ward the rain. ‘And in the meanwhile we’ll think of some way to transport you without your horse.’
‘She’ll have mine,’ the cloaked guy said unexpectedly.
I looked up.
‘Yours? Don’t be stupid, I can’t take your horse.’ It would only mean a bigger debt. I didn’t much care for that.
He disregarded me as he addressed Ladybug instead: ‘She can ride on my horse as I walk with hers. Neither are in a fit condition to travel quickly anyway. We’re very near a village. There we can switch places and you can buy a new charger. It will do.’
Ladybug shrugged. ‘Seems like a sound plan to me.’
I accepted a cup of chamomile tea that Millie had poured me, shivering violently now. I very much wished that I could change into dry, clean clothing soon. ‘What is this place you mentioned?’ I asked.
He gave a crooked smile as he pulled the dark green hood over his head, though not enough to hide his whole face. ‘It’s a mere hamlet, not even labelled on most maps. People usually simply call it Nowhere, which is an appropriate name I suppose.’

Millie dropped the tea pot she was carrying, spilling the steaming content partially on the ground, partially over my feet. I withdrew them with a snap, glad that I hadn’t pulled off my boots earlier.
‘There was no need for you to do that,’ I barked, feeling Goosebumps all over my arms.
‘I’m sorry!’ she flustered. ‘It just reminded me of…Don’t you remember what your Gran said…’
‘Yes, I know what she said.’ I felt put out. ‘So I was near Nowhere. Or I was nearly dead. Or death was near. Or whatever! I have no interest in puns; I feel they are quite beyond my intellectual capacities at the moment, thank you very much.’
I turned my back to the very bewildered looking party, hating myself, hating my stupid horse and the Cuckoo Gang, hating Gran, Millie and the Fairy Folk.
My mood dropped a few levels more when I grudgingly discovered that there was only one person missing in this list and that he was sitting a few metres away from me, thinking of how to best steal the sword that Millie kept strapped to her backpack.


Chapter Fourteen
Fear, And All Variations Thereof

It went as the cloaked guy had proposed.
Me, sitting on his horse feeling useless, while he walked beside it, leading both his own and my lame charger. The others had settled for a slower pace, as it seemed obvious that while I could just sit and clutch to the saddle, my horse could not walk particularly fast.
By the time we arrived in the tiny place called Nowhere, I was feeling sick from the cold. I could see from Millie’s face that she was not in much better conditions, but on the other hand, she had not been lying in the mud for a while.


I was glad that we had arrived, because the silence that had grown between me and the hooded fellow had become increasingly uncomfortable.
As he helped me dismount, I thanked him. He gave a nod and then we had nothing more to say.
Luckily Cuckoo came to the rescue, throwing an extra blanket over my shoulders and taking over the horse that belonged to me.
‘You will be staying here, I suppose?’ I asked through clattering teeth.
‘Yes,’ he replied, his eyes dwelling over my appearance. I suppose I must have looked like a drowned dog to him. ‘They’d better get you inside.’
This was, I noticed, more a hint at Cuckoo’s than an actual comment to me.
The leader of the Rough Rebels got the message. With one arm around my shoulders, he guided my toward the shabbiest looking building I had ever seen without it being a ruin. If that was the Inn of this shithole, I would not hold my hopes up for an improvement in health.

As Millie and I settled in front of a tiny fireplace, the cloaked guy walked past us on his way to what I supposed was the counter behind which the Innkeeper was standing.
With one foot I prodded a soggy looking fire log so that it moved closer to the flames. We said nothing, but I knew that our thoughts must be more or less the same.
After a little, the cloaked man suddenly returned, walking up to us. I raised my eyebrows: I had rather expected him to withdraw in one of the rooms, avoiding us as much as possible. We were not exactly friends yet, after all.
‘I called for a farrier for your horse,’ he said, looking down on me. I noticed how his eyes refused to wander off to Millie, which mildly surprised me. ‘You’re lucky they have one here. I know larger places that have no accommodation for horses.’
I nodded, knowing that Low-of-the-Road was one of those sorry excuses for a town.  
‘I paid in advance,’ he continued. ‘Don’t look at me like that - it wasn’t much.’
‘But,’ I spluttered, feeling my cheeks growing hot. ‘We don’t need you to pay for us, sir. We are hardly acquainted after all.’
He gave me that crooked smile again, as if he thought my attempt at formal speech was endearing. ‘I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I’m sorry if I did. Pay me back when we meet again - I suspect it will be soon enough.’
‘I bet, if you’re staying in the same Inn as we are.’
He shook his head. ‘I’m not staying. I can see that my presence puts you out of your depth. Frankly, I don’t care much for the company of those clowns either. So, I’ll see you two around.’
As we watched him walk out of the taproom, I noticed that I had clutched my hands very tightly.
‘He has some gut,’ I muttered to Millie. ‘All civility and pretty words, but the fact remains that he’s stalked us up to here.’

*

My leg healed perfectly within a few days. Days in which, as I could not help but notice, the cloaked guy seemed to have completely disappeared. Once I tried to track him, but the information this gave me was shattered; very incomplete. It was as though something had forced itself between me and him. I found this disturbing, but had little time to mull over it.
As soon as I was ready to travel again, we packed our things. Millie’s nerves were stretched to the edge. I knew why: if all went as it should, this would be our final stage in her quest for princesshood.
I found it hard to believe, so I accustomed myself to thinking about other things instead. I had enough to worry about after all; things Millie seemed to be forgetting now the climax drew so near.
I did not fail to remember, however, that we had bluffed our way in with the Rough Rebels. There was still no chance of getting into Redwood Castle. That was, not if things were set up too difficult.
And then there was the matter of the secret sister. Maybe Millie still partly believed her own unconventional conspiracy theory, but every other sane person knew that the odds of a girl like this existing were very slim indeed.
Our journey to the main city called Redwood was longish but not very entertaining.
We had all donned oiled cloaks in feeble attempt to remain dry throughout the hours of horseback riding. Every night we slept soundly, our legs, behinds and backs aching from the lengthy riding. I knew that I, at least, was not accustomed to this.
Finally we made it. We settled in the Inn closest to the castle that we could find.
It was a large, roomy sort of place. It suited me fine; I had seen enough of those shabby accommodations to fill a lifetime.
We had a practical view of the castle, which had been built uphill, with many stark towers. It loomed over the city like an eagle on its nest. To be frank, it gave me the creeps.
The day after we had settled in, Cuckoo wanted us all downstairs, gathered around a table. The leader of the rebel’s gang paid a barman a handful of coins to keep other visitors from coming too close, thus giving us the opportunity to talk freely without chances of being overheard.

‘We find ourselves in need of a solid plan,’ I heard Ladybug say.
I nodded in a distracted agreement. My mind wandered elsewhere. I was full of nerves for the coming events, thinking feverishly of every tiny opportunity that might allow me to escape this whole bloody affair and return safely home. The prospect of princess Merope and her whole royal guard was not exactly appealing, nor was the idea that we were speedily heading to a dark and obscure dungeon full of nasty objects, designed to inflict as much pain in as short a time on a human being as was possible.
‘Look,’ Millie said, waving her hands about. ‘What if we dressed up as servants and casually entered with the rest of them?’
‘That’s a nice thought,’ I said, ‘but unless you can describe to us how exactly these servants are dressed, I foresee certain problems.’
‘Ah well.’ She shrugged. ‘Why don’t we just take the back door?’
‘What back door?’ Ladybug inquired, raising his eyebrows so that his face adopted a fairly odd, heart-like shape.
‘Surely they have a back door somewhere. To deposit themselves of the most unwanted things, if anything!’
‘Like garbage, you mean?’
‘Rotting cabbages I can handle,’ I said, leaning my chin on my hands. ‘But if it’s going to be anything of a worse smell - say, human excrement, then I politely decline.’
‘We can’t afford to be picky,’ Cuckoo sneered, obviously unaware of the ickiness that was a pile of shit. I knew, though, and that was only sheep’s droppings. He ought to listen to my advice and I told him so.
He cocked an eyebrow at me. ‘I thought this would not be such a problem to you, Daffodil. What was this about a secret sister and the clues to get us in?’
I felt my cheeks becoming scarlet and really regretted that I turned out to be such a lousy liar. ‘That is…’ I began, wondering what to say next. ‘It’s not that -’
Millie cut in, saying: ‘What she means to say is that even a network update will not render us invisible. Not invincible either. Right Daffodil?’

I nodded. She had once again saved my butt. It seemed like this journey would leave me in debt with more than one person.
Millie gave me a heartening smile. I wondered how she managed to stay so calm - her voice was not even trembling when she added: ‘Constant vigilance! I read that in a book once.’
‘That’s nice,’ I said. ‘So, no human excrement. Yes? Let’s make this cabbage exit our first priority. Once we’re in, I can scan the area with the network and find us a place to change into servant’s attire. That way, we’ll reduce the risk of being caught tremendously and I might feel up to the second part of this outrageous affair.’
‘Fine,’ agreed Cuckoo. ‘So we’re in. What’s next? Where do we find Merope?’

I swallowed. I had not allowed myself to think much about this, especially not when the men were performing their entertaining songs and music, just to cheer us up. Now, once more, it became painfully obvious to me that these guys meant business with the princess. They really were prepared to sneak into her private chambers and slit her throat if they must. Had Gran really wanted me to be a part of this? Surely she must not have foreseen this!
‘I suspect we will find her alright,’ I finally replied, my throat as dry as a forsaken well in the desert. ‘And if it helps, we can always ditch the servant’s clothing. That will speed things up. I have heard that her majesty makes a sport of executing the torments personally.’
‘We will not be put to torment,’ growled Ladybug in what might have been a reassuring way. I wished I could believe him.
‘You will seek her out with your network, yes?’ It was Rose, who did not speak much, that said this.
I threw him a glance - weird guy with a curly beard. He wasn’t dressed in women’s clothing this time around, for which I was grateful.
‘I could,’ I said. ‘I suppose I shall. Yes.’
The Rough Rebels nodded in agreement.
‘Should anything go wrong,’ Cuckoo said now, his arms crossed on the table, an unusual frown darkening his lanky face, ‘the others should head back to meeting point as delicately but quickly as they can manage.’
‘What is this meeting point?’ I asked.
‘We shall see then. I suggest the kitchen, which will probably be fairly central on the first floor.’
‘But…there will be many people there.’
‘Easy to blend in,’ he said. ‘Easy to slip away from unnoticed. Now, about once we have caught the princess -’
My attention slipped away. I wished he had mentioned more of the escape plan, which seemed to me far more likely to be put to use than the various possibilities of how to murder a single girl, however vicious she was.
‘Daffodil.’ Millie nudged me.

I stood up, mumbling an excuse to the men and urging Millie to come along with me.
‘What is it?’ she asked in a hushed voice. ‘You seem very troubled.’
‘I am troubled, Millie!’ I took a deep breath. ‘And I’m wondering if you realise what you’re putting yourself into! These men mean murder. Not just any murder, but the worst of all: a political assassination. There are about a thousand things that are likely to go wrong! You may be writing history here, but chances of history being favourable of your mission are very slim. Do you really believe you’re up to this kind of thing? Answer me truthfully! Forget about that stupid sword and that stupid myth for one moment. Are you a murderer, Millie? Could you? Do you wish me to become part of this whole affair, just for this…girlish reverie of a crown on your head?’
Millie’s silence pressed on me, but I had nothing more to say. If she would answer ‘yes’ to all of these questions, I would walk away and leave her and the men to their fates.
I think she could read this from my face, because she whispered: ‘I need you, Daffodil.’
‘No,’ I said firmly. ‘What you need is a shrink or a firm reality check; possibly both. I can’t bear this responsibility for you, Millie. It’s too dangerous.’

She bowed her head. ‘I don’t want them to kill her, I swear. I never wanted them to. Getting involved with them was a mistake, I understand.’
‘Then walk away,’ I said. ‘Walk away now that you still can. Come back with me to Low-of-the-Road; we’ll be safe there, this madness can end and we’ll figure a way to bring you back home. Please, Millie!’
‘I have thought about that,’ she admitted, still not looking me in the eyes. I had never seen her so put out of her depth. What a strange contrast to earlier; then she had looked so confident.
‘But then I wondered, Daffodil…would our walking away prevent them from going on with their mission? I fear it’s our fault that they’re so fired up now. Will they stop if we do?’
Throwing a glance over my shoulder, I saw them discussing stormily, arms occasionally thrown wildly about. ‘That seems very unlikely,’ I muttered. ‘But what’s that to us? Let’s make our excuses and slip away.’
‘No!’ Millie said fiercely, looking up now. ‘We can’t! I can’t. Listen, I’ve been worrying about this ever since we failed to shake them off before Elm Trail. If they get in and kill Merope it will be entirely my fault; I will never live with it. I need to go in with them and find a way to prevent this.’

I stared at her for quite some time. This was unexpected: all this time I had assumed that she was too naïve to understand what Cuckoo and his men were all about; all this time I had thought that she was so brimming with self-confidence because she really believed in this sword and its legend: that it would bring her to victory.
‘You have been pretending all this time?’ I asked. My voice reflected my astonishment. ‘And you never told me?’
‘I am sorry,’ she whispered. She was close to tears now. It shocked me deeply.
‘You really are prepared to...to infiltrate in this highly guarded stronghold to prevent a murder? Is this your honest motivation?’
She nodded shakily.

I sighed as deeply as I had ever sighed before. Glancing around the taproom, I noticed how the eyes of the Rough Rebels were fixed upon us now.
‘This is difficult,’ I muttered.
‘If you don’t want to come with me, that’s okay,’ she said with much difficulty. ‘I will find you an excuse; you could be halfway home before they even noticed I lied to them.’
Something about her words struck me. True, I had never liked Millie much, particularly because she had drawn me into this whirlwind of an adventure, some stupid quest that I could care nothing for. But this… ‘It’s something different altogether now,’ I said. ‘You should have told me this before Millie. We might have prepared ourselves better that way.’
She glanced up at me. ‘You’re not mad?’
‘Mad? I’m desperate! I’m so ruddy scared that I have no room for anger, so count yourself lucky. Listen, they’re staring at us so we don’t have much time. We have to get them into this place, otherwise they’ll see through us immediately. But when they ask me to scoop up information on Merope’s whereabouts in the castle, I’ll lead them away as far as possible…The dungeons might be a good first choice. Then…’
Millie was eyeing me with a mixture of hope and awe. ‘Then what?’
I shook my head. ‘Then we’ll have to decide what to do with them. If we could just lure them into a room which we can then lock… It would be easier for us to simply warn someone about their location and intentions, but chances are we’ll get arrested as well. Besides, we would have to find a way to split up first then. Or we could find Merope ourselves and warn her personally.’ I let the thought sink it. ‘I don’t like our possibilities much, Millie.’
‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘Much depends on the conditions once we’re in…But - I mean - does this mean that you’re with me?’
‘I suppose it does,’ I said after a short pause. ‘But I don’t have much faith in this, Millie. My first priority’s gonna be keeping you and me out of harm’s way. If we lose the chance to save Merope, then so be it.’
She nodded.

I heaved another sigh. ‘Thank God for that network update. With some luck, I can navigate our way through this without hitting cliffs. I hope. Now, let’s get back to that lot before they think we’re hiding something from ‘em…I could do with a glass of brandy.’