Muse (Tales of Silver Downs Book 1) (34 page)

"What is your name?" I asked. "Your real name? I can't help but think of you as Bramble."

"Brigit. But I don't mind Bramble. I've become quite used to it."

It was hard to think of her as Brigit when I saw Bramble every time I looked at her. Bramble's eyes were exactly the same as Brigit's, and like Bramble, her emotions flared from them. I hadn't often stopped to think about what she was feeling before, but I could read her eyes now: hope, confusion, and something that looked a lot like hurt.

The innkeeper brought bowls of porridge. I barely tasted my meal, focused as I was on Ida's box. Perhaps if I concentrated on it all day, I would be able to maintain my focus long enough to sleep for a while tonight. I suspected though it would be several days at least before I could safely sleep.
 

I hardly knew what to think of the fact that Bramble was really a woman. Brigit. I tried not to think of the many confidences I had shared with her as she lay beside me at night. My cheeks were hot and Owain gave me a strange look but he didn't speak until he had finished his porridge.

"Well, Diarmuid." He pushed away his empty bowl. "What now?"

"I suppose we go home," I said.

Rhiwallon made a strangled sound and buried her face in her hands. Owain leaned close to murmur something to her.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

A sharp kick bruised my ankle.
 

"Idiot," Brigit hissed.
 

Belatedly I remembered Rhiwallon's secret.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I—"
 

Another kick and Brigit glared at me. I stopped talking and ate my porridge in silence. Other patrons wandered into the room, some in pairs or groups and some alone. They ordered meals or ale and chatted with their companions. It was strange to see the world continue in such an ordinary fashion. After last night, it seemed everything should be different somehow.

"Where is your brother?" Brigit asked. "The druid?"

I shrugged. "He has probably left, gone back to wherever it is the druids live."

"He's very knowledgeable," Brigit said. "He taught me much."

I waited but she didn't elaborate.

After the meal, we returned to our bedchamber to gather our belongings and start the journey home. I was right behind Bramble — Brigit — as she opened the door, and I saw what she saw: the room was gone.
 

We walked into an enormous cavern. And we weren't alone. The last time we confronted the fey, there was a multitude of them. This time we faced only the king and queen.

Brigit stepped forward. With a sigh, I followed. Rhiwallon and Owain were close behind me. It might have been the same cavern in which we last encountered the fey, for the cavern walls were composed of layers of orange and brown and red rocks, and the ceiling arched up high out of sight.

Once again we faced Oberon and Titania. Oberon looked grave but there was a hint of something about him that suggested he might be more compassionate than she. Titania stood stiffly with her hands on her hips. Her long dark hair flowed unrestrained down to her waist. She wore an elaborate red dress that swept the floor of the cavern and dipped so low over her chest that I averted my eyes, blushing. Titania looked at me, eyebrows raised, but said nothing.

"Why are we here?" I asked finally, tiring of her silent game and too exhausted to care about being polite.

"To account for yourselves, of course," Titania said. She looked at us each in turn, eyes lingering on Brigit. "So, you have found a way back to your own form."

"It was one of your kin who stole my form from me," Brigit said and although her tone was respectful, it also contained a clear challenge.

Titania's mouth turned up into something that might have been a smile if her face wasn't so cold. "You refused an instruction. We made you comply."

"What right do you have to give me any instruction? Had she told me why she wanted me to go, I would have gone. You have no right to demand and expect me to obey."

"Mortals are stubborn and stupid. There is no point trying to explain something you can't understand."

"You could have given me a chance to understand."

"It matters little whether you understand or not." Titania's glare was icy. "You have done what we wanted. The reason is of no consequence."

"It mightn't matter to you but it does to me," Brigit said. "Nobody should be forced into another creature's form. To have to learn how that body works, how it responds. To have everything they know about the world suddenly taken away."

Titania glared at Brigit. "You are stubborn, just like your father. You had better be careful if you don't want to end up the way he did. You came too close this time. Cross me again and it will be worse for you."

Brigit looked like she wanted to say more but Titania dismissed her with a slight lift of her chin and looked towards Rhiwallon.

"He suspects you are with child," Titania said. "He knew there had to be a reason you ran."

Rhiwallon paled but she straightened her shoulders and stared back at Titania. "Do you intend to tell him where I am?"

"He hasn't asked me."

"Was it his beast that stole me away? Or yours?"

Titania barked a laugh. "That beast was no fey construct. We have no need to conjure such a creature. If he knew where you were, he would have simply taken you himself."

"Then where did the beast come from?" Rhiwallon asked. "And why did it take me into your lands?"

Titania lifted one slender shoulder in an elegant shrug. "It should not have been able to access my realm. The one who made such a creature is powerful indeed, but you should ask your own companions for the answers to your questions."

She turned to Owain then and looked him up and down. Owain stood silently, waiting for her to finish her slow inspection.

"You chose a strange path," Titania said and her tone was almost friendly now. "But you should choose your friends with more care. When she discovers your secret, she will turn on you."

She gave Owain no opportunity to speak but turned instead to me.

I quailed a little. Ida stirred, perhaps sensing a momentary lack of attention, and I redoubled my focus on holding the lid securely on her box.

"Bard," Titania said. "Your quest is complete."

"So it would seem." I was pleased my voice sounded strong and confident despite how I trembled inside.

"Mortals are not meant to have power such as yours. But your line is strong and determined. Unnecessarily stupid at times. I shall make the same offer to you that I have made to every seventh son of a seventh son in your family. I can remove your ability. I can take it away from you so you never bring your words to life again. You can be free to tell your little tales without fearing the consequences."

"Why would you do that?"

"My reasons are my own and they need not concern you." Titania's voice was impatient now. "Do you accept or not?"

"What will you give me in exchange?"

"What will I give you? Why would I give you anything? I have made an exceedingly generous offer to remove a troublesome ability. I needn't give you anything in exchange for making your life easier."

I hesitated, sorely tempted. If Titania were to take my ability, I could be a bard again. And this time, I would study my craft. I would not be so proud about telling the learning tales my audience despised, but would create tales of beauty and wonder, courage and heroes. But if I retained my ability, I could never tell another tale.
 

"If you want something from me, you must offer something in exchange. You cannot take my ability, but I can freely give it to you. And I do not intend to do that unless you offer me something of equal worth."
 

All pretence of a smile faded from Titania's face and I trembled as her face twisted in fury.
 

"You stupid mortal. You think to bargain with me? I have already been generous with you. I have given something of immense value, to you at least, but it seems you are too stupid to realise it. I shall not give you anything further in exchange. You will give me your ability in payment for what you have already received."

I didn't bother to ask what she meant. "Then I decline your offer."

"Foolish man. Why are the bards of your line so stupid? I make this same magnanimous offer to every one of them and they all refuse."

I held my tongue for none of the responses that came to mind were terribly polite. But now I knew that Papa too had rejected Titania's offer.

"Go then," Titania said. "Stupid mortals. You have no idea how good I am to you."

I blinked and the cavern was gone. We again stood in the doorway of our bedchamber. The hallway stretched behind us and the murmur of voices and the crash of plates rose from the common room.

"Well, that's that." Brigit sounded as dazed as I felt. "She could have at least left us closer to home."

I tried not to look at Brigit as we prepared to depart The Midnight Traveller. Clearly the task she had refused had something to do with my quest. But why was Titania so interested in my journey? Did she know I couldn't succeed without Brigit? And if so, why did she care?

As we hauled our packs out to the cart, the oxen snorted and seemed as keen as we were to be off. The day was bright and sunny and perfect for travelling. The snow was melting more every day and the wrens and robins had appeared from wherever they had spent the winter.

It was hard to concentrate on keeping Ida's box closed while doing other things, perhaps harder than I had expected. I clung to Fiachra's belief that it would become easier with time.

Could Ida still hear my thoughts? Was she also witness to everything I said and did? Now that I had some small understanding of how my ability worked, I was beginning to realise why Ida was what she was. If indeed everything she knew came from my head, then all she knew of the world was from my tales. I had never told a tale where the hero succeeded because of his courage or where light triumphed over dark. Never had my tales culminated in a happy ending or the banishment of evil.
 

Caedmon had tried to tell me. The night we sat up late in front of the fireplace after his betrothal party seemed like a lifetime ago. Was he still alive? Or had I killed him with that poorly-chosen tale about the soldier who was beaten to death by his new bride's menfolk? And what of Grainne? Did I harm her too?
 

How many others had I hurt? All because I thought to tell tales that would teach my audience to be better than they were. Why did I think it was my place to do such a thing? Over and over people told me they wanted to hear of heroes and love and happy endings but I resolutely continued to tell my dark tales of danger and injury.
 

It was just as well I had already resolved to never tell another tale. I couldn't be trusted with them. I would never forgive myself for the havoc Ida had wrought, but at least I had been ignorant of my ability back then. I no longer had such a defence. And if there was any possibility that Ida still listened in on my thoughts, then I had to be very careful to only think such things as I would want someone else to know. Perhaps I could change her with the right kind of thoughts. Perhaps I could insure against the possibility that she might escape again. I could teach her honesty, courage and humanity. If she knew more of light and beauty, perhaps things would be different next time. Owain's voice intruded on my thoughts.

"I'll go settle the account," he said.
 

Brigit quickly offered to go with him and I was left alone with Rhiwallon for the first time since our encounter in the barn. I caught her glaring at me as she tossed a pack into the cart. She wore her travelling clothes today: long pants, her freshly restocked quiver hanging from a belt, and her red hair tucked up under a scarf.

My cheeks immediately heated and I ducked my head, pretending to search for something in my pack. The air felt thick with our silence. Suddenly Rhiwallon stomped over to stand right in front of me where I couldn't pretend I didn't see her.

"I wouldn't have betrayed you," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "I can hardly believe you would think that. I thought we were friends."

Surprised, it took me a few moments to think of a response.

"I couldn't be sure," I said, finally. "Her power was strong. She charmed Owain and he's the toughest man I know. I thought she would try to turn each of you against me. And I thought…"

"Say it." Rhiwallon's tone was withering.
 

"I thought that if she offered to protect you, to hide you, you might help her in return."

"She's evil, Diarmuid. She needed to be stopped. I knew that just as well as anyone did. I wouldn't have traded my own security against stopping her. I didn't come this far just for my own benefit."

"You didn't?"

Rhiwallon's glare became even frostier.

"But you didn't even believe me. I thought we just happened to be going in the same direction."

"It's a hard thing to believe when someone you barely know tells you they've brought a creature of their imagination to life. I partly believed you, just not completely. Not until I saw her. When I stood face-to-face with her and felt her power, then I believed. But by then you had stopped believing in me."

I hung my head, thoroughly ashamed. "I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say but I'm sorry about the way I treated you. That I didn't believe in you. And I'm sorry about that night in the barn." I finished in a rush. "You deserved better than that. Caedmon set it up and he wouldn't listen when I tried to tell him no."

Rhiwallon's smile was gentle and for perhaps the first time, I didn't feel like she was mocking me. "I understand. But does she know?"

"Who?"

"Brigit."

"Of course not. I've not told anyone."

"But you'll tell her sooner or later, won't you?"

"No, never."

"It's not a secret you can keep if you intend to build a future with her."