Here we bring Crispin
,
Swanrider Crispin
,
Sing for the king to the mist and the tide…
It was Sepia. Urchin looked for Cedar and caught her eye.
“Thank you!” he whispered, and she smiled back.
When the procession had left the Chamber, Urchin followed Padra and Crispin to the anteroom. Tables were set up in the Gathering Chamber for the feast. Even in the depth of winter the Chamber had become misted and hot, and Urchin went to open a window, welcoming the cold fresh air. It was snowing again, and it would lie till tomorrow.
There was one thing still to do. Urchin, helping Padra and Crispin with their robes, told them what it was.
“The sword the ambassadors offered you?” said Crispin. “It’s still in the Throne Room. Do you want it?”
“No,” said Urchin earnestly. “No, I don’t want it. It was meant to trick me, and it was used against you. But I don’t want it lying around, either, and as it’s mine I think I should do something about it. All that’s happened, Whitewings and everything, it isn’t properly finished until this is done. And I’d like a witness, please.”
Later that evening, while Sepia and Needle danced at the party, a small boat rocked its way across the dark waves toward the mists. When it was as far out as it needed to be, Padra shipped the oars.
Urchin held up the sword in the moonlight. Its exquisite workmanship was as beautiful as ever, but its pattern of twists and knots seemed to tell him of deceit and imprisonment and the trickery of silver. Pushing back his cloak, balancing himself carefully so he could throw hard, he flung the sword forward toward the mists. For a moment it twisted and flashed, and there was a gentle splash as it hit the water.
An overwhelming sense of peace fell on Urchin. It filled him and made him warm, like the feeling of being loved. Softly, as he had said it in his prison cell on Whitewings, he whispered, “Good night.”
Then he took his place beside Padra, and side by side, they rowed back to Mistmantle.
Praise for The Mistmantle Chronicles
“McAllister creates a beautiful world where animals are carried away by the gentle waves of the sea and others are born on nights of riding stars. It’s hard not to root for little Urchin and his friends when some very big evil threatens to ruin their beautiful world.” –
The Washington Post
“[Urchin’s…] adventures twist and turn beautifully. McAllister continues to build an enchanting world on Mistmantle. –
VOYA
About the Author
M.I. McAllister is the author of all the books in the Mistmantle Chronicles. She is married to a minister and has three grown children. She lives in England. Learn more at
www.margaretmcallister.co.uk.
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