Steering her mount about, Elora cantered to the last break in the hedge and opened the gate. Daisy snorted and shook her head to either side, not wanting to ride into the field but as Elora patted her neck, giving her reassurance, the horse reluctantly trotted on.
The scene before her was straight out of a disaster movie. The crushed fuselage lay crumpled and smouldering in the centre of the field, the cockpit having broken off entirely and lay on its side, the nose crushed; blackened glass scattered about the long grass. It was huge, not a jumbo but big enough to carry over a hundred people. The other wing and tail were gone entirely.
Elora sat rigid in the saddle, taking in the horrific sight; destruction on a scale she found hard to comprehend.
“Where are all the passengers?” The words tumbled past her lips, barely audible to herself. The breeze carried them away as she realised that the passengers were still in their seats.
Charred blackened lumps that moulded into the fuselage, nothing recognisable as human, apart from the odd shape of a cranium here, an elbow joint there; nothing to distinguish between bodies and the seats they were strapped to. Just blackened lumps.
She didn’t hear the Shadojak approach, her eyes fixed on the bodies but became aware of him only when her horse tried to bite his.
“Come now girl, nothing we can do for them,” he said, wheeling his horse around. His face was grim. “We need to keep going.”
Elora tapped Daisy’s flank lightly with her heel, setting her in motion, but not in the direction Diagus wanted. She set off towards the wreck of the plane, whispering words of encouragement to her horse to keep her moving, not knowing if the Shadojak followed and not caring.
A crow took flight as Elora neared the mass grave, startling him from the meal it was making from a blackened corpse. It screamed at her as it circled above, now joined by two others - black eyes staring down dark beaks upon darker feathers. They’d be others joining the feast soon, other carrion birds and scavengers; plenty for everybody. She drew her gaze away from the carnage, feeling bile at the back of her throat. Her father did this.
Movement pulled her attention towards the cockpit, an arm waved from within a shattered window. Bloodied, weak but moving. She jumped down from Daisy and ran towards it, stumbling over strewn baggage and almost losing her footing in her haste to get there.
The remains of the cockpit rocked as she climbed in, scrambling over torn seats, broken plastic and bits of people. A wheezing gurgling sound brought her attention to the pilot’s seat, the pilot still in it. His head slumped back and struggling to breathe.
Elora crawled over the debris to reach him, he must have sensed her coming as his breathing suddenly became more erratic as he attempted to turn in the seat but was trapped - his legs crushed into the controls and switchgear.
“Don’t move, ok?” she heard herself say. “Try and keep still or you’ll do yourself more damage.” If that was possible.
As she slipped alongside him she got a better view of his injuries and gasped. It was a wonder he was alive at all. A shard of glass was embedded in his forehead, narrowly missing an eye, his vision blocked from the blood that flowed from the wound. The steering wheel was pinning him in place, pushing into one side of his chest, his clavicle protruding, broken and white through his torn bloodied shirt.
“Water,” he said, the words sounding wet as blood bubbled from his mouth.
“Keep still. I’ll bring you water,” she said, taking his hand gently in hers. “Help’s coming,” she reassured him, but guessed that even then his chances of survival were slim to none.
Diagus crept up beside her, scanning over the pilot’s wounds.
“He asked for water,” she offered, hoping that the Shadojak could help him.
His face fixed and expressionless, he produced a flask of water. With a tenderness that belied anything that Elora knew of Diagus, he tipped the man’s head back and rested it in one hand whilst putting the flask to the pilot’s mouth.
The injured man sipped the water at first, then took a bigger swallow before coughing some back out. Then with a swiftness that went unseen, the Shadojak leaned forwards and slipped a small dirk between the pilot’s ribs.
In - out, without a sound. He gently lowered the man’s head to his chest, silent now that the painful breathing had ceased, almost peaceful.
“What did you do that for?” demanded Elora, shock causing her to tremble.
Diagus looked at her grimly. “I gave him mercy. This plane came down over a day and a half ago. Nobody has come to help, nobody will. A quick death is better than a prolonged painful one.” And with that, he crawled out of the cockpit leaving her with the dead pilot.
He was right of course, nobody would come but it didn’t stop her feeling shock, the cold way in which it happened, in - out and that was that.
When she felt the strength return to her legs, she climbed out of the cockpit, leaving the pilot in his tomb. Diagus was already mounted, Otholo at his side, Daisy’s reins in his hand.
“Mount up girl, we’ve got ground to cover,” said Diagus and began to swing his horse around.
Elora wiped cold sweat from her brow, feeling a tide of anger rise from deep within her chest.
“You’re a heartless bastard.” The words echoed around the field.
Diagus halted and looked down at her, then simply shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve never pretended otherwise.”
“And you’re a complete...Arsehole!” She shouted the last word, hearing it again as it echoed back.
Otholo’s face paled as he made his horse sidestep away from the Shadojak whose mouth turned up in a grin.
“Happens you might be right there, too. But it doesn’t change anything. Now get on your horse and get moving.”
Elora watched him ride out of the field, hatred burning fierce inside her, making her clenched fists shake uncontrollably. But the raw emotion wasn’t directed at Diagus, it was at her father and at herself for not being strong enough to deal with the fact.
Daisy eyed her suspiciously as she approached. Taking the reins from Otholo, Elora expected the mare to attempt to bite her but she must have sensed something in her that gave her a change of mind.
“You know; nobody has ever called the Shadojak an arsehole before,” remarked Otholo. “Especially the Pearly White. I think there’s a song in that somewhere.”
They rode for the remainder of the day in silence and spent the night beneath the canopy of a shallow wood that bordered farmlands. By the third day in the saddle Elora thought she had bonded with the Gypsy Vanna. No longer did she try to bite her, nor did the mare run away when approached to saddle up in the morning. She ruffled the long forelock that hung in front of the horse’s face, thick white hair blocking her vision. Daisy snickered at the touch, ears forwards and walked with a calm steady stride. Elora decided she would keep her, if they both survived the ordeal ahead.
They covered a lot of ground that day, mostly fields of crops yet to be harvested or sparse woodland that lay scattered about the farms. But no people, not one. Until early into the afternoon.
They rounded a lane that crested a thick wood, a small farmhouse sat in the shade of large conifers. A woman, dressed in an apron, carrying a baby rushed to them as they came into view.
“Please help me. My little Danny’s run off into the woods and won’t come back. Please help,” she said, through sobs. “He’s only five. He said he found a magical friend in there that plays games with him. I told him he wasn’t to go into the woods but he ran off with his ball and now won’t answer me when I call. I just know something’s happened to him.” She pulled the baby closer into her arms as she cried.
Elora watched the granite appearance of Diagus as he shook his head. “Dark times have arrived, my dear,” he said, placing a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Woods are no longer safe. If your boy hasn’t returned, then more likely than not he never will. There’s nothing we can do, I’m sorry. Don’t go into the woods after him, or you’ll share his fate.”
