Arrow (Knife) by R. J. Anderson Page A

though she had no reason to fear. Even if they were the same ravens she had seen in St David’s earlier, they might not mean any harm. Perhaps they only wanted to observe her a little more closely.
    The ravens swooped lower, and Rhosmari braced herself for a confrontation – but then they veered away over the rooftops, out of her sight. Had she been mistaken? Had they just been ordinary birds after all?
    A hand clamped around her arm, jerking her back beneath the station overhang. She cried out – but the sound went nowhere. Someone had cast a spell of silence over her, and there was nothing she could do to break it.
    A lean body pressed against her back, and she smelled the sharp evergreen scent of an unfamiliar faery. His lips moved beside her ear, breathing an urgent whisper:
    ‘ Help me .’
    Startled, Rhosmari twisted to face the stranger. He was a wiry-built male not much taller than herself, with sharp features and pale hair slanting across his forehead. There were grey shadows beneath his greyer eyes, and his cheeks looked hollow with hunger.
    ‘Hide me from the Blackwings,’ he begged. ‘I will give you whatever you ask for, do anything in my power to repay you, but do not let them take me. Please. ’
    Rhosmari’s insides went cold. So the ravens were the Empress’s servants, after all. But were they only chasing this wild-eyed stranger, or did they want her as well? It was hard to believe that they would have followed her all the way from St David’s to Haverfordwest merely by coincidence…
    She was still trying to decide what to do when the Blackwings stepped onto the platform in human shape, twin brothers with raven hair and the menacing grace of veteran hunters. With a shared glance and a nod to each other, they began to walk in opposite directions, studying each of the passengers in turn.
    There was no more time for hesitation. ‘Stay close to me,’ Rhosmari mouthed to the stranger, and cloaked them both in the most powerful invisibility glamour she could devise. The Blackwings’ eyes slid towards them… Over them…
    And past them, without so much as a pause. Rhosmari relaxed – then tensed again, struck by fresh anxiety. The Blackwings had already seen her standing on the platform when they flew in. Now that she had disappeared, how long would it be before they guessed she was hiding the stranger?
    Distracted, she did not even hear the train approaching. But then came a metallic squeal, and the space beside the platform became a blur of carriages. The strange faery nudged her elbow, and she understood: they had to get on the train as soon as it stopped, and pray that the Blackwings did not follow.
    The train slid to a halt, doors hissing open. The humans crowded forward, and Rhosmari and her companion crept invisibly after them. They slipped inside the carriage, pressing back against the wall.
    Outside, the Blackwings paced the platform, unaware that their quarry had gone. But then the shorter of the two stopped, as though struck by realisation. His nostrils flared; he turned towards the train—
    The door sang a wavering note and whirred shut, sealing the carriage. In seconds the train had glided away, leaving the station and the Blackwings behind.
    The blonde faery let out his breath. ‘I am in your debt. My name is Martin.’
    Which was his common name, nothing more – faeries never gave away their true names if they could help it. But still, the introduction showed a measure of trust. ‘I am called Rhosmari,’ she said.
    ‘A lovely name,’ said Martin. ‘It suits you.’
    He spoke lightly, as though the words were mere courtesy. But the look in his eyes said otherwise, and Rhosmari had to drop her gaze.
    ‘I am grateful beyond words,’ Martin went on, ‘for your willingness to help a stranger. Few faeries I know would be so generous.’ He touched a button on the wall, and another door slid open to reveal a narrow-aisled compartment lined with seats. ‘Are you hungry? Let me get