Authors: Alison Croggon
Cadvan stared at her, all his yearning naked in his face.
I avenged your death,
he said.
I’ll spend my life trying to mend what I did. But I would give everything if only I could have you back.
I will never come back,
she said softly.
The river flows only one way, and I am almost at the sea. Farewell, my love. Remember me without bitterness. Remember how we loved. Be all the things that I could never be.
Her form began to fade. Cadvan cried out Ceredin’s name, bidding her stay, but even as he spoke she vanished. His chamber was empty, and he was alone with all the choices that had formed his life. And he saw, with an anguish that he couldn’t contain, everything that would never happen: the futures that had died with Ceredin, the children they would never hold, the laughter and sorrow they would never share. And his love burned inside him, a pain beyond bearing, a living thing.
The four Bards stayed in Pellinor the whole winter, helping to heal the hurts in the School and the Fesse. Selmana slowly began to enter the life of Pellinor. She felt that she would never be whole again, but when she looked back, she remembered that winter as a time of great joy. There were long nights in the Singing Hall, which she loved for their laughter and fellowship, even though she had no ear for music, and there were new friends. She began her studies with Milana, and Nelac, who said that he was taking a well-earned holiday, helped her ransack the Pellinor library.
She knew she had changed over that dark autumn. She never spoke of Anghar to anyone, but she remembered her promise:
Your time will come
. She rediscovered her passion for Making, and put all her longing and desire into the things she created. Then the seasons turned, and the valley was loud with meltwater, and the orchards showed their fresh green.
All winter there had been embassies between Lirigon and Pellinor. Despite some opposition in Lirigon, Cadvan’s exile was lifted, in recognition of his part in the struggle against the Bone Queen. Dernhil and Nelac were no longer outlawed; the Bards of Lirigon now seemed, if anything, embarrassed by their hasty judgement. And as the days lengthened, Dernhil, Cadvan and Nelac left Pellinor at last. Selmana stayed on, as she was midway through some studies. She would travel back to Lirigon in the summer for her Instatement. She missed her mother sorely, but she knew now that her home was Pellinor.
This time they took the Bard roads, and their travelling was easier. They were welcomed back to Lirigon as heroes, even Cadvan, although some Bards muttered against the lifting of the ban, and some would distrust him all his life. Dernhil stayed a few days and then rode on to Gent, extracting a promise from Cadvan that he would travel there before the year was over. Nelac returned to his chambers and pulled out the book he had been writing before Dernhil had arrived in Lirigon the previous spring. He had almost forgotten what it was about, and now he read it again, he thought he would be better to begin another book.
Despite the revocation of his exile, Cadvan found he was no longer at ease in Lirigon. He went to visit his father and found that he was ill, refusing all treatment. Nartan still looked askance at Cadvan, although he was now treated as a hero in the village.
“I don’t think he will ever forgive me,” Cadvan said to Juna, after a particularly difficult conversation.
She smiled sadly. “He is a proud man, and his pride in you was broken,” she said. “And he is old, and set in his ways. I think he will never forgive you for being a Bard.”
“There’s nothing I can do about that,” said Cadvan. He tended his father through his illness, despite his silences and rough ingratitude. Even on his deathbed, Nartan had no kind words for Cadvan. After Nartan’s death, on Midsummer’s Day, Cadvan took on the mantle of a Bard and said the rites, as his brothers and sisters had asked. When the funeral was over, the five siblings stood together on the edge of his grave in silence.
“He was a difficult father,” said Ilios. He had come home with Ardur when he heard that Nartan was ill. “And not only to you, Cadvan.”
“I know.” Cadvan smiled at Ilios, the quick, brilliant smile that illuminated his face. “And I was a difficult son.”
“And brother,” said Ardur.
“Perhaps we’re past all that now,” said Tera. Her smile was like Cadvan’s. “I can’t but mourn him. He was a good man despite it all. But perhaps we can bury our bitterness with him.”
Cadvan looked at the fresh grave, with the mild summer breeze blowing the flowers back and forth, and wondered if that was true. He felt that a black wind was howling across a desert inside him. He had longed for his father to forgive him, and now he never would. But he was grateful for the company of his siblings.
The next day he rode out of the Fesse, heading north. Two weeks later he came to Jouan. It was a windy day, with white clouds chasing each other across a pale blue sky, and the hawthorn flowers dropping their white petals to the ground. He passed a wagon trundling out of the village, loaded with shining black coal, and waved at the Jouains who recognized him as he rode between their houses. He took lodgement with Jonalan, stabling his horse, and walked on to the edge of the village.
When he reached Hal’s house, she was pegging out her washing. He halted and watched as the sheets billowed out in the heavy gusts, waiting for her to finish her task. She stood back, propping the empty basket on her hip, and nodded to herself, as at a job well done. And then she turned around and saw him, and she dropped her basket and ran towards him, her face shining. Cadvan stretched out his arms, and she threw herself at him. He staggered back against her embrace.
He kissed her tangled hair and then held her at arm’s length, studying her. “You’ve grown again,” he said.
“You didn’t die!” she said. “I’m so happy!”
Cadvan looked at the neatly scrubbed house with its beds of flowering herbs, the linen sheets dancing in the keen wind, the carved sign above the door that announced the presence of a healer. Hal had been busy since last he had been in Jouan. A dragonfly was darting among the flowers, its iridescent wings catching the light, and he caught his breath, struck by how beautiful Hal’s home was, with the pale sunshine glowing on its roof.
No, he thought, I didn’t die. Not yet. He realized, with surprise, that he was happy. Happiness wasn’t what he had thought it was: it was like the dragonfly, a fragile, winged thing that arrived, unsought and unexpected, and graced the work of living. You couldn’t hunt it down, you couldn’t hold it. But sometimes, in a blessed moment, it was there.
It was good to be alive.
“This is a tale with passion, inspiring characters, an enchanting protagonist and vividly described landscapes … a great series of fantasy novels that will delight fans of Garth Nix and G P Taylor.”
The Bookseller
Maerad is an orphaned slave in a harsh settlement, unaware that she possesses a powerful Gift: one that marks her as a member of the School of Pellinor. When she is rescued by Cadvan, a Bard of Lirigon, her destiny begins to unfold. But before Maerad can attain her true heritage, she and Cadvan must embark on a treacherous journey and confront dark forces of the most terrifying kind.
“Croggon’s world is rich and passionate, brimming with archetypal motifs but freshly splendorous in its own right. Supremely satisfying.”
Kirkus Reviews
(starred review)
Despite her tragic and bitter past, Maerad’s powers grow stronger by the day. Pursued by both the Light and the Dark, she and her mentor, Cadvan of Lirigon, seek the Riddle of the Treesong – the key to restoring peace to their kingdom. As they travel across the ravaged landscape, Maerad is drawn ever closer to the Winterking, the author of her sorrows and the strongest ally of the Nameless One – the greatest tyrant of all.
“The action never flags in this compellingly readable fantasy tale. Riveting and intense, it is a spellbinding addition to a stellar fantasy series.”
VOYA
The forces of the Nameless One grow ever stronger, and in the frozen wastelands of the north Maerad seeks to unravel the mysteries of the Treesong, which may hold the key to peace. Meanwhile her troubled and unhappy brother, Hem, is sent south to Turbansk. But evil forces threaten to destroy the city, and it becomes clear that Hem’s own destiny is linked to the Treesong more closely than he knows. Aided by his pet crow, Irc, Hem spies on the child armies of the Dark … with perilous consequences.
“Fans of the series will enjoy seeing the final stage of Maerad’s transformation from a slave to her world’s savior, and they will once again be drawn into this complex and gripping tale.”
School Library Journal
In a desperate fight against the Dark, Maerad must solve the final Riddle of the Treesong in order to defeat the Nameless One and restore peace to the Seven Kingdoms. But Maerad only holds the key to half the riddle; her long-lost brother, Hem, has the other. As the Dark grows more powerful, Maerad and her mentor, Cadvan of Lirigon, must find Hem before it is too late. But will brother and sister be reunited in time?
“Atmospheric throughout, and gripping till the end, with a tension that never abates,
Black Spring
is a lyrical masterpiece.”
ArtsHub