Muse (Tales of Silver Downs Book 1) (24 page)

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Authors: Kylie Quillinan

Tags: #Historical fantasy

BOOK: Muse (Tales of Silver Downs Book 1)
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Diarmuid sighed and I knew he probably rolled his eyes but I tried hard to ignore both him and the hurt in my heart.

How could I convey the idea of carrying us? A horse. Horses carry people. In my mind, I saw a horse stretch out its neck. It shook its mane and extended a foreleg before prancing around. I tried to copy its action but my body was all wrong. My neck didn't stretch elegantly like a horse's and I probably looked more like I was shaking water off myself, not shaking a mane. When I extended one of my front legs, it didn't seem to bend the way I wanted it to and my prancing made Diarmuid raise his eyebrows as if I had suddenly lost my mind.

Owain nodded encouragingly. "Go on."

Diarmuid's eyes went blank. He wasn't even paying attention any more.
 

My heart plummeted. How else could I tell them? My gaze landed on Rhiwallon, still held firmly in Owain's arms. Even now, after bearing her for so long, he showed not the slightest sign of discomfort or tiredness. That gave me an idea.

I trotted over to Owain and stood beside him, arching my back as if he was lifting me with a hand beneath my belly. He looked down at me and waited, his face patient. I stood up on my back legs, front paws resting on his knees like I did when I wanted to sit on his lap and still Owain merely stared.
 

Diarmuid wasn't even watching.

"Keep going, Bramble," Owain said. "What else can you show me?"

I voiced my frustration with a bark and Diarmuid glanced at me.

"She wants you to pick her up," he said absently, before turning back to contemplate the bridge.

I barked again —
yes, yes!
— and comprehension filtered into Owain's eyes.

"Clever Bramble!" he said.

I let my tongue hang out, panting a little.

"Don't you see, Diarmuid," Owain said. "That's the solution. We
can
all cross the bridge."

Diarmuid's head jerked up. "What?"

"Bramble figured it out."

Diarmuid's face showed brief incredulity before he schooled it to politeness.
 

Perhaps it was better I was a dog than a woman, for at least in this form I was under no illusion as to my future with Diarmuid. It simply didn't exist.

"I'll carry you across," Owain said. "All of you, all at once."

"One may pass the fiery depths and only once may go," Diarmuid said. He nodded slowly. "Yes, yes, it could work."

Owain smiled down at me and his plain face looked quite handsome. He might not recognise me for what I truly was but at least he knew I was more than I seemed.

"Well done, Bramble," Owain said.

"I suppose Bramble gave us the key, by asking you to pick her up," Diarmuid said. "We would have figured it out sooner or later."

I raised my lips and snarled at him. Diarmuid, of all people, should have been the first to know. Instead, it was Owain with his simple mind and his open heart who was willing to listen.

Diarmuid raised his eyebrows in surprise. He extended a hand towards me, his face cautious. "Bramble, take it easy, girl."

I snarled again and turned my back on him. I sat, the cavern floor warm beneath my rump.

"Leave her, Diarmuid," Owain said. "You can't fix it 'til you see the truth."

"See
what
truth?" Diarmuid asked, a frustrated edge in his voice.

"Look at her," Owain said gently. "Really look at her.

I didn't need to look back over my shoulder to know that Diarmuid didn't so much as even glance at me. His attention was already focused again on the bridge.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Diarmuid

My soul finally felt the truth of Owain's words even as my eyes saw only the familiar scruffy terrier. Shame and utter disappointment welled up in me as I turned back to face the bridge.
 

I was the bard, the one who knew the ancient tales. Here was one living an ancient archetype of tale and I never even noticed. It should have been me who recognised Bramble first. Not Owain whose occupation called not for delicate words, filled with symbolism and meaning and truth, but rather brute force and the delivery of blood and death.

I heard Titania's words again:
One will bear another's coat until the final round
.
 

"It's Bramble, isn't it?" I said, turning back to them. "The riddle. The one who bears another's coat."

Owain barely glanced at me. He shrugged.

"So what is she?" I muttered, eying Bramble who sat with her back to me. "Human? Fey? Is she sent to spy on us or to aid us?"

Bramble huffed but didn't turn to face me. Even Owain glowered and shame coloured my cheeks. Bramble had never given me any reason to doubt her and, indeed, hadn't she deciphered the riddle's clue to crossing the chasm?

"We should go," I said. My mind was all awhirl and I didn't know what else to say.

In silence, the three of us stepped up to the place where the bridge began and my already-doubtful heart sank. The bridge was barely a handspan across, a continuation of the same rocky floor we had traversed for so long. It looked as if the living rock had simply grown and stretched from one side of the chasm all the way across to the other. There was no visible means of support and the rock was so thin it could not possibly hold even Bramble's slight weight.

Owain still carried Rhiwallon as easily as if she weighed no more than Bramble but was he strong enough to carry all three of us across? The bridge must be two hundred paces or more. And what if the fire rose up again? There would be no escape.

"I don't think this is possible," I said. "There must be another way across."

"You can climb onto my back. Bramble will have to sit on Rhiwallon." Owain's voice was calm and certain. He nodded towards the terrier. "Lift her up."

I was slightly reassured that Owain at least thought this would work. If I could have thought of another option, anything at all, I would have suggested it but my mind was blank. I felt a deep certainty that this was the solution Titania intended us to find.

Bramble trembled under my fingers as I grasped her around the middle. If Rhiwallon panicked, she would knock Bramble right off. Under other circumstances, I would have given Bramble a gentle stroke or said something comforting but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I released her abruptly, almost dropping her onto Rhiwallon's belly.

With Rhiwallon and Bramble in his arms, Owain planted his feet wide apart and waited for me to gain purchase on his back, between his pack and Rhiwallon's bow. My first two attempts ended in hard landings on the rocky floor. With both tailbone and pride bruised, my third attempt was more successful and I managed to clamber up high enough up to wrap my arms around Owain's neck. My legs gripped his waist tightly.

Owain shifted slightly, adjusting his grip on Rhiwallon. If he was nervous, he did not quiver, but was as sturdy as ever. He stepped right up to the narrow bridge. I felt his chest expand as he took a deep breath. Then he placed one foot on the rocky bridge.

I held my breath, heart pounding wildly, as Owain leaned forward. His muscles tensed beneath me and he hesitated, testing the bridge's strength. The moment seemed to last forever. Finally, he stepped forward.

Now that he had committed to the crossing, Owain had to keep going until he reached the other side. If not, he may as well throw us all over the edge right now. Over the chasm the heat was even fiercer. It flooded up from the depths, the air so hot it almost burned my face.

Owain strode confidently across the bridge, carrying four lives with every step. I kept my gaze locked on the far side of the chasm, not daring even the smallest glance down for fear I would panic and lose my grip. If I let go, Owain couldn't catch me, not without dropping Rhiwallon and Bramble, and they were both precious to him. Certainly more precious than I. I stared at the end of the bridge, praying with every step that Owain would have the strength to continue.

Halfway across, he faltered and seemed to lose his balance. I tightened my grip on his neck a little too much and his shoulders twitched as he started to gasp for air. I forced my fingers to relax and he was able to breathe again.

We crept towards the end of the bridge with excruciating slowness. I was aware of every beat of my heart and of every breath Owain took. He laboured now, drawing in big gulps of air and his neck gleamed with sweat. My limbs began to shake with the effort of holding on. The heat made my head spin with dizziness.

We were barely a dozen paces from safety when a roar shattered the air. Images flashed through my mind: griffins, harpies, banshees. I clutched Owain's shoulders and cringed, expecting some fearsome winged beast to swoop down on us.

Owain's foot slipped. He wobbled, swaying on the thin span of the bridge.
 

Moments passed and my heart failed to beat as I clung to Owain. In my mind, I saw the four of us plunging over the edge. The image was so vivid that it took several moments after Owain regained his balance before I realised we weren't plummeting towards the bottom of the chasm after all.

Owain continued, step by step, bringing us steadily closer to the end of the bridge. My hands were so sweaty I could barely grip his shoulders. A muscle in my thigh developed a cramp and the prospect of hanging on even another few moments became almost unbearable.

It took every scrap of my willpower to hold on as Owain made those last perilous steps. As his foot touched solid safety, my legs refused to clench another moment, the muscles spasming beyond my control, and I began to slip.
 

Owain stepped off the bridge. I slid down his back and tumbled onto the rocky surface, landing finger widths from the edge. He crouched with a grunt to deposit Rhiwallon, still insensible, on the ground. Bramble tumbled off Rhiwallon, trembling convulsively, tongue hanging out as she panted.
 

Owain sat, abruptly, beside Rhiwallon's prone form, his legs splayed out in front of him. His face was ruddy and his shirt was drenched with sweat. He raised shaking hands to cover his face.

I rolled onto my hands and knees and scurried away from the edge, then lay on my belly on the warm rocky floor. Right now, it was all I could do to lie here. I could not have done what Owain did, even if I had the physical strength. Only the tremble in his hands now as they covered his face betrayed how terrified he had been.

"What was that noise?" I asked. "It sounded like…"
 

In truth, I didn't know what it sounded like but I didn't need to identify the creature to know danger lurked nearby.

And it made me think of another winged beast: the raven I had dreamed of for so many years. Ebony feathers, beady eyes, midnight-dark blood glistening on its beak. Perhaps as I drew closer to a confrontation with Ida, I also came nearer to discovering the meaning of the raven.

Bramble stumbled over to Owain. She licked him on the knee and gazed up at him. Owain met her eyes and it seemed some wordless communication passed between them. How could I have ever thought of Bramble as mine? I had often fallen asleep at night imagining myself roaming the fields of Silver Downs, creating my tales while Bramble ran at my side, jumping streams and scrambling onto rocks to find a sunny place to nap. It had been many days since I had considered trying to find her previous owner.
 

But perhaps staying with me was never Bramble's intention. I had no claim over her. For reasons known only to her, she had decided to journey with me this far. It was clearly Owain she was fond of. Owain she would depart with once this was over. Perhaps it was better that way for I likely wouldn't survive the coming confrontation with Ida. Still, it was like a little piece of my heart had crumbled away. I scrambled gracelessly to my feet, my thighs spasming.

"We should keep moving," I said. "I would prefer not to wait until whatever creature made that sound arrives."

Owain's face was still red as he hauled himself to his feet. He seemed to wince and held his shoulders oddly as he gathered Rhiwallon up again.

"Are you injured, Owain?"

He shook his head but didn't meet my eyes.

The beastly roar came again, ringing through the cavern. Was it a sound of challenge? Of alarm?

"Let's go." I turned to the opening at the far end of the cavern. "Maybe this path will lead outside."

I stepped forward, feeling more alone than I had since the day I first found Bramble in the woods. Behind me, Owain followed, bearing Rhiwallon. Bramble trotted beside him.

As I reached the opening, the tunnel stretched ahead of me, dark and ominous, smelling of damp and something I couldn't identify, like a cross between a wild boar and the new sparks from a tinder.
 

"Diarmuid?" Owain spoke quietly and I heard both hesitance and exhaustion in his voice.

I took a deep breath. "Let's go."

"We're right behind you."

We had been walking for only moments when I spotted light up ahead.

"I think the tunnel's ending," I said quietly.
 

From the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of white near the ground. Bramble, moving ahead of me.

"Bramble, wait," I hissed. "It might not be safe."

A sniff of disgust.
 

I trudged faster. I could not let her go alone into unknown danger. Not now that I knew.

We reached the end of the tunnel together and entered a small cavern illuminated by clean, white light. There were three doors.

Like the bridge, the doors belonged to this place, melding into the surrounding rock as if they had grown out of it. The doors were identical: smooth panels of wood stretching from side to side, arced at the top, their sides fitting cleanly into the rocks without hinge or latch.
 

Owain and I looked at each other. I was sure he, like I, searched the riddle for any reference to doors.

"How do we choose?" I asked. "Are we permitted to open each and look through or may we open only one?"

"More tunnels?" Owain asked.

"Possibly. Or other places."

I stared at the doors, frantically selecting and discarding various tales. Surely somewhere in my memory was a tale of mysterious doors in a fey tunnel but I could recall nothing useful.

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