Tamlyn (23 page)

I felt Tamlyn's eyes on me. He said nothing in response, made no gesture anyone could see, but I saw in his face that it was true. We were one and I was proud to tell everyone so.

‘You say you can't take any chances,' I continued, ‘and you want to kill him. But as you wield that sword, you will know in your own human heart that he is not a Wyrdborn like the rest. He has been treated with love and it has captured a corner of his heart.'

I turned towards Lucien. ‘And there, in that seat, is another Wyrdborn — the most threatening of all, you tell yourselves. I have seen the mosaics, I know the horror they provoke in anyone who studies them. But I know, too, from the words of Arnou Dessar, that those mosaics show only what might be, not what must be.
Lucien's Wyrdborn nature is not set within him like those coloured stones on the walls in Nan Tocha. He has turned against such evil today and he will do it again tomorrow.'

‘No, the risk is too great,' said Geran. ‘We can't let the lives of so many rest on the whim of one small child.'

The truth, Silvermay, tell them only what you know to be true
, I reminded myself.

‘I cannot be sure of the choices he will make — that is true. Kill him and the risk is gone. But what are you killing in yourselves if you do that? The greatest strength of our kind is the compassion born into us. Kill him and you will kill a part of your own soul, and that will be the greatest betrayal in this whole sorry business. Without compassion, mercy and love, you become just like the Wyrdborn.'

I sought out Miston's face again. ‘The strengths of the commonfolk are the trust we have in others and the way we share the benefits of what we do together. The Wyrdborn can't do that. Each is alone in the world because a terrible compulsion drives them to want everything for themselves. That makes them weak. It is why the Felan can defeat them in battle, even though the Wyrdborn are stronger. Trusting someone else is a risk, of course, but the commonfolk take that risk every
day. Sometimes we are betrayed, but what we gain from trusting others is more valuable, more human, than what the Wyrdborn are left with. It is in trust that we find peace. Friendships are built on trust and make us strong. That is something alien to the Wyrdborn nature; it is the true evil in their souls, and what weakens them.'

I looked around the room again, taking in Geran and the other Felan, Lathen. ‘What you are about to do here is something that Lord Coyle himself would smile upon, but you are commonfolk, you are Felan, not Wyrdborn.'

My words fell against the hard walls of the cellar and, once they had died away, the silence returned. There was nothing more I could say that would not become a plea or an angry tirade against the power they held over us. I was exhausted, in any case. I couldn't look into Miston's face, or Geran's, or even my beloved Tamlyn's. My eyes settled on Ryall, who stared at me as though I had stolen all the words of the human race and left none for him.

I hadn't, though.

‘Well spoken, Silvermay,' he said.

‘Yes, well spoken, indeed,' repeated Miston, surprising me. The hand that held the dagger hung loosely at his side and I wondered if he still knew what the blade was for. ‘As a young man, I gave speeches like
that, but none more passionate than yours. Everything you say is true.'

‘Then let Tamlyn live, and Lucien, too,' said Ryall.

‘If it were my decision alone, I might agree with you,' said Miston.

He was looking at Geran as he spoke and she returned his gaze with the same intensity.

‘It's not for any of us to decide,' she answered after a long pause.

My words had touched them all, it seemed, because one of the other Felan spoke to me for the first time. ‘Geran is right. No matter how eloquent your words, it's not up to the few of us in this cellar. There are thousands more —'

‘That's the coward's way out,' I said before he could finish. ‘Kill these two and put the blame on others who are not here to speak. At least be honest and act on what is in your own heart.'

‘My heart wants none of this,' said Miston, and with that he dropped the dagger into the straw at his feet.

Instantly, Ryall started towards it, and who knows what murderous struggle might have followed if he'd made it even halfway. But he didn't, because Tamlyn grabbed the back of his vest before he could take a second step.

‘No, not that way. Didn't you listen to Silvermay?'

I wasn't sure what he meant, but the moment passed and, despite the increased tension, there was no flash of steel, no shouts or angry threats.

Once Ryall had calmed down and the knife had been retrieved from the straw by Lathen, Geran spoke again, in the same measured tone. ‘We agree with you, Miston, but this has to be done, for the good of all our people. The risk is too great.'

‘Risk,' snapped Miston, his voice no longer meek. ‘This girl has shown us the real risk we are taking. These killings won't be the acts of a just people; they will be what a Wyrdborn would do.'

Geran held his eye for a moment, then shook her head. ‘What Silvermay said has moved us all, it's true. We deny our own strength, we destroy our own goodness of heart, if we kill the child like this. Like you, we wish it wasn't necessary. But he cannot be allowed to grow into his powers.'

‘He won't,' I said. ‘Not if I have my way. This has been our plan from the beginning. Pull up Lucien's sleeve and see for yourselves.'

Geran did as I asked and gasped at the symbol tattooed on his arm.

‘You know what it means, even if I don't,' I said. ‘With that on his arm, we hoped the great wizards of Erebis Felan would strip the evil from him.'

The taller of the Felan men stirred, his eyes still on the tattoo. ‘It can be done, yes, but —'

I cut him off so he couldn't build a new argument against me. ‘Isn't that a better victory over Wyrdborn magic than to copy its evil?'

‘Take him to Erebis Felan?' muttered the other Felan and, despite the poor light, I saw the blood drain from his face. ‘It would be a grave risk.'

‘Less so if we act quickly,' said Geran. ‘We have his measure while he is young and his magic barely formed. Another week will not change that.'

‘And Tamlyn,' I urged, now that there was hope. ‘Spare him and you have an ally to get us away from the city. No one will be more determined to see us all escape than him.'

The tiny muscles I'd spoken of earlier worked in Tamlyn's face. There
was
hope now that he would live, after all.

‘He did stop Ryall from grabbing for the knife just now,' Miston pointed out.

‘It could have been a trick, to earn our trust.'

‘He has mine, already,' Miston replied and, making his way across the straw, he reached out his hand towards the Felan who held Tamlyn's sword. ‘It's time we gave this back to him.'

The Felan was reluctant to surrender it. ‘He could kill us all.'

‘Then I will be the first to die,' Miston said, and he lifted the sword free of the Felan's hands, turned to Tamlyn and offered it to him.

I have never seen such surprise in a man's face. Tamlyn stared down at the sword in his hands and then at those in the room who had been ready to kill him. Then, to
my
surprise, he propped the sword against the wall as though it meant no more to him than a piece of wood.

I had followed this odd ceremony so intently that it was some moments before I realised what it meant. Without the sword, they could not take his life. The dread that had weighed me down ever since these men had joined us in the cellar lifted so quickly it was a wonder I didn't drift up to the floorboards above our heads. My Tamlyn was alive, and so was the love he had revealed when he had seemed certain to die.

I came back to earth quickly, though, when I thought of my own words. The love of others had claimed a corner of his heart, but he was still a Wyrdborn and, by his own admission, he would remain cursed by their magic. I would know happiness when his heart fought free of that curse, but there would be times when he was pulled back into darkness. The
sword he'd abandoned for now would remind me of that each time I set eyes on it. It was the price I had to pay for the love I couldn't give up.

‘We are agreed, then,' said Geran, who had come to stand in front of Miston. ‘Take the boy to Erebis Felan, and quickly, before his powers become too great.'

Tamlyn came out of his corner at last. He looked at me, as eager as I was to touch and whisper in relief, but at Geran's words, he turned to her.

‘We must get Lucien out of the city as fast as we can,' he said. ‘In the next hour, no longer. Silvermay, too, and Ryall. They are easily recognised. We must assume Coyle knows that Lucien is gone already, so the city gates are out of the question.'

Things had changed so quickly. Enemies minutes before, and now they were planning together like old comrades.

‘We will have to find a way over the city walls,' said Tamlyn.

‘Or under them,' Ryall added immediately. A smile crept onto his thin face. ‘There's never been a wall that could keep me in.' He began searching the cellar for ropes and anything else that might help us.

Only when talk turned to our plans once we were free of the city did Geran speak up. ‘We'll need a boat, and a sturdy one to take so many of us.'

‘I will only hold you up,' said Miston. ‘Lathen and I will remain here to do what we can. That leaves the three of you,' he nodded towards Geran and her companions, ‘plus Silvermay and the child.'

‘And us,' said Ryall, going to Tamlyn's side.

At this, Tamlyn sought out my face again. His own was as solemn as when he had stood in the corner waiting to die.

‘Not Tamlyn,' I said, returning his gaze. ‘He has no tattoo to give him safe passage. He cannot go to Erebis Felan.'

He shook his head. ‘You have said so much today, Silvermay. Now it is my turn,' and he came closer, so that his words seemed for me alone. ‘I made a pledge to Nerigold, the same as you did, and I will see it through to the end.'

‘But if you —'

He put a finger to my lips to silence me yet his touch was so tender and unexpected, it brought anything but peace to the rest of me.

‘The pledge is only part of the reason I will go to Erebis Felan,' he said. ‘The rest you already know, because you spoke of it earlier. Without your words, I would be dead by now, cut to pieces by my own sword. But I won't go to Erebis Felan out of gratitude, or because I owe you my life. I will go for a far greater
reason. You spoke of the strength commonfolk have within them, a strength that outweighs any power that Wyrdborn magic gives to the likes of me. You have told me this before, many times, I think, but I have never understood until today. In this room, I saw that strength at work on the hearts of those who listened. Miston and the others heard you and a power rose out of them stronger than the Wyrdborn can ever possess. I saw for the first time, what it means to be fully human. I want that strength within me, and for it to happen the wizards of Erebis Felan must strip the dark magic away from me. Whatever the risk, I will go to Erebis Felan with you and ask that it be done not just to Lucien, but to me as well.'

His words were heard by every ear in the cellar, but they meant most to me. To the others, Tamlyn was making an appeal to join us on the voyage to Erebis Felan — a request that they quickly granted. To me, though, he had said so much more. We would see our pledge through together, and when it was done we would return to Athlane without the curse of the Wyrdborn standing between us.

Lucien had been released from his chair by this time. He came to me, arms outstretched, so I could pick him up. I did, and smothered him in a cuddle. He squealed in delight as any little boy would do.

‘Perhaps, then, I will dream again, as I did onboard the ship,' said Tamlyn, ‘and each morning I will wake and tell you what I dreamed, Silvermay, so you can explain what it means.'

‘Every morning,' I promised, because that
was
my dream, and I didn't have to close my eyes in sleep to experience it.

When I answered so freely, the smile I hadn't seen since his mother's death returned to his face. No Wyrdborn could smile like that, with all the joy of mankind in his eyes and in the curve of his lips. Whatever awaited us in Erebis Felan, the magic had already begun.

‘Tamlyn,' Ryall said, ‘which streets should we take when we leave here?'

There were decisions to make. We must flee the city before Coyle could find us, and then there was the journey across an unknown sea. Whatever else Tamlyn and I had to say to each other would have to wait; and for the happiness we promised each other, we would wait longer still. It didn't matter. It didn't matter a jot, because I knew it would come one day, and with that hope settled firmly in my heart, I already felt more happiness than I had ever known.

The story concludes in

LUCIEN

In bookstores June 2013

Go back to where it all began …

Sixteen-year-old Silvermay Hawker feels drawn to the newcomer in her village — a young man of solemn good looks named Tamlyn. But only heartache can come of this, because Tamlyn is devoted to Nerigold and to little Lucien, her son.

So things seem, until the dark forces of Coyle Strongbow come in search of Nerigold's baby and Silvermay is swept up in the young family's escape. When Lucien is entrusted to her care, she discovers the startling horror of what he might become, and the truth about Tamlyn, too.

Can Lucien be spared his fate, or is he doomed to become like Coyle? And Tamlyn, can he be trusted, can he be loved and can he love in return? Silvermay's heart will not give him up, but what happens when devotion becomes a weapon in the hands of the ruthless?