What was happening to him? Serafina hovered above the water a few feet away, gazing horrified.
She had heard from travelers in her own world of the legend of the vampire, and she thought of that as she watched the Specter busy g on—something, some quality the man had, his soul, his daemon, perhaps; for in this world, evidently, daemons were inside, not outside. His arms slaed uhe childs thighs, and the child fell into the water behind him and grabbed vainly at his hand, gasping, g, but the man only turned his head slowly and looked down with perfediffere his little son drowning beside him.
That was too much for Serafina. She swooped lolucked the child from the water, and as she did so, Ruta Skadi cried out: "Be careful, sister! Behind you—"
And Serafi just for a moment a hideous dullness at the edge of her heart, and reached out and up for Ruta Skadis hand, which pulled her away from the dahey flew higher, the child screaming and ging to her waist with sharp fingers, and Serafina saw the Specter behind her, a drift of mist swirling oer, casting about for its lost prey. Ruta Skadi shot an arrow into the heart of it, with no effect at all.
Serafina put the child down on the riverbank, seeing that it was in no danger from the Specters, and they retreated to the air again. The little band of travelers had halted food now; the horses cropped the grass or shook their heads at flies, the children were howling or clutg one another and watg from a distance, and every adult had fallen still. Their eyes were open; some were standing, though most had sat down; and a terrible stillness hung over them. As the last of the Specters drifted away, sated, Serafina flew down and alighted in front of a woman sitting on the grass, a strong, healthy-looking woman whose cheeks were red and whose fair hair was glossy.
"Woman?" said Serafina. There was no response. " you hear me? you see me?"
She shook her shoulder. With an immense effort the woman looked up. She scarcely seemed to notice. Her eyes were vat, and when Serafina pihe skin of her forearm, she merely looked down slowly and then away again.
The other witches were moving through the scattered wagons, looking at the victims in dismay.
The children, meanwhile, were gathering on a little knoll some way off, staring at the witches and whispering together fearfully.
"The horsemans watg," said a witch.
She pointed up to where the road led through a gap in the hills. The rider whod fled had reined in his horse and turned around to look back, shading his eyes to see what was going on.
"Well speak to him," said Serafina, and sprang into the air.
However the man had behaved when faced with the Specters, he was no coward. As he saw the witches approach, he unslung the rifle from his bad kicked the horse forward onto the grass, where he could wheel and fire and face them in the open; but Serafina Pekkala alighted slowly and held her bow out before laying it on the ground in front of her.
Whether or not they had that gesture here, its meaning was unmistakable. The man lowered the rifle from his shoulder and waited, looking from Serafina to the other witches, and up to their daemons too, who circled in the skies above. Women, young and ferocious, dressed in scraps of black silk and riding pine brahrough the sky—there was nothing like that in his world, but he faced them with calm wariness. Serafina, ing closer, saw sorrow in his face