The trees whispered angrily amongst each other. Even they didn’t want to be tainted by the nameless one, so cursed was its existence. Caw muttered oaths and apologies to them, promising to reward their kindness and tolerance. But first she would have to deal with the fire. She leapt back to the Horse Chestnut. Flames lapped around one of its branches. Swiftly she stamped it out and with her knife, she trimmed off the burnt twigs and leaves. Voices rose up from undergrowth, angry and impatient. One of the men barked an order, and a volley of darts flew up to greet her. She leapt back too late. One struck her shoulder and bit down as the needle sank into the flesh. Her arm went numb. Another hit, catching her in the ankle this time, and she slipped.

A hand snatched her back up. Rock stood, balancing on the branch as he heaved her onto his shoulders.

“Hold on,” he whispered, then took off.

He ran, hopping from tree to tree, so fast the forest had become a blur, and Caw was forced to close her eyes. The angry shouts of the men disappeared in an instant, left far behind. When Rock finally slowed, Caw opened her eyes and looked around. They had reached the outskirts of the forest, miles from the village and its wonderful bookshop and miles from the hunters.

“They won’t find us now, not without their hound,” said Rock, lowering Caw on to a wide branch to rest. “Are you well?”

Caw tried to speak. The words rolled languidly around her mouth and fell out in incoherent lumps. With her good arm, she pointed to her shoulder.

“They darted you?”

Caw flopped her head forward.

“I see.”

Rock cast his eyes upwards and sighed. “Since you cannot be left alone for even a minute without causing trouble, I suppose I’ll have to be the sensible one again.”

He lifted her once more and ran.

The hideout was a small cave, dug out of a cliff face at the base of a waterfall, at the most Eastwardly edge of the forest. Far from any civilised society, used mostly by scouts and rangers, and sometimes bears. Rock lay Caw down onto a makeshift bed of twigs and leaves, and lay his cloak over her.

“They could have killed you, you know,” he said, tucking the cloak around her. “I don’t care how intriguing that book shop is, it’s not worth your life. What would you have done if I hadn’t come to find you?”

Caw said nothing, not that she could, with the poison now in full effect. She just glared at him.

“And now you’ve been darted,” Rock continued, ignoring her completely. “You’ll have to rest here while it wears off. You’re lucky I don’t tell Oak.”

Caw groaned through closed lips.

“I won’t tell her, idiot. You think I want to be in trouble as well?”

His gaze softened. “We’ll have to stay here tonight. I’m going to get some firewood. I won’t be long.”

He disappeared out of view and for a while Caw lay, imprisoned in her own body, with only the sound of her shallow breaths for company. It could have been worse. Rock was right, she’d been foolish this time, reckless. The books and their secrets were just too alluring to pass up. But how did the hunters know? Foolish, foolish girl, she thought. Your scent was all over that place. And with a hound so powerful, it would have been easy to track her. Caw silently despaired at her own folly, and watched as the sun’s light slowly drained out of the cave, drawing back towards the west, where it would begin the cycle anew in the morrow.

Rock returned, his face sweaty from effort, his raven hair sodden and stuck against his brow. He dropped some logs into a fire pit at the mouth of the cave. Removing his knapsack, he plucked out a small pouch of kindling, and some lighting flint. Bashing the flint together, he stood over the fire pit tiny sparks leapt into the kindling and a fire danced into life, lighting up the cave with a warm glow.

“I caught us some fish,” he said, “when you can move again, we’ll eat.”

Caw tested her numb jaw, mumbling an acknowledgement, and hoped Rock could understand.

“Rest, Caw,” he replied. “We can talk properly when you wake.”

It was dark when she woke. Rock was sat by the fire, his back to her. The aroma of freshly cooked fish wafted into the cave and her stomach grumbled, tugging her from the bed.

“Food’s ready,” he called. “Can you stand?”

Caw heaved herself into a sitting position with a groan, her arms shaking.

“I think so,” she croaked, pushing herself up. Her legs wobbled, knees buckling like a newborn foal, and she stumbled. A hand caught her. Rock met her eyes with a smile.

“I always forget how fast you are,” said Caw.

“Someone’s got to keep up with you.”

He grinned, his dark eyes glittering in the firelight. “Come on, let’s eat.”