Song Magick (14 page)

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Authors: Elisabeth Hamill

Tags: #love, #magic, #bard, #spell, #powers, #soldier, #assassins, #magick, #harp, #oath, #enchantments, #exiled, #the fates, #control emotions, #heart and mind, #outnumbered, #accidental spell, #ancient and deadly spell, #control others, #elisabeth hamill, #empathic bond, #kings court, #lost magic, #melodic enchantments, #mithrais, #price on her head, #song magick, #sylvan god, #telyn songmaker, #the wood, #unique magical gifts, #unpredictable powers, #violent aftermath

BOOK: Song Magick
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Mithrais turned to face her again, taking her
hand and stroking the intricate patterns on Telyn’s wrist with a
thumb rough and callused from years of drawing a bow. “You need
only tell my father the entire story,” he said firmly, but his eyes
were gentle. “King Amorion considers you innocent of murder. No one
else need know who has set a price on your head until my uncle has
dealt with this. It’s still Gwidion’s house and his law, regardless
of who presides over the table or rides out to inspect the city. He
will welcome you.” A small smile grew at the corners of his mouth.
“If Marithiel becomes too unbearable, I’ll declare you a Tauron
initiate, and we’ll continue your lessons in some isolated corner
of the Wood. Would that content you?”

“I think I might be content wherever you
are,” Telyn said quietly. Mithrais touched her cheek, an expression
of such hopeful tenderness in his eyes that she caught her breath,
her pulse beginning to race. His lips touched hers, softly at
first, then with increasing fire as Telyn responded, her arms going
around him and drawing him closer. Again, it was Mithrais who broke
the kiss with a shaking laugh.

“I feared this,” he murmured against her
forehead as he held her in the brightening Wood. “How can I see you
safely to Cerisild when I think of nothing but the taste of your
lips, and the scent of your skin?”

“I would perform a song of courage to
strengthen our resolve, but alas, my pipes are back in Rothvori,”
Telyn lamented weakly, and Mithrais laughed aloud, releasing her
and motioning for her to take the lead.

“Come, initiate. Lead me to the tree folk,”
he commanded. Telyn snapped to attention and fired off a mock
salute, fist to heart.

“Yes, my lord.”

Telyn was very pleased with herself when,
within a scant half hour, they stood at the foot of the resonant
tree. She had only made one false start after listening again for
the resonance, which Mithrais immediately corrected, explaining
that in the deep Wood, the Gwaith’orn were more numerous and their
vibrations overlapped, like concentric circles of ripples in a pond
during rain. By holding the resonance in her mind, Telyn was able
to discern between the individual Gwaith’orn, separate notes in the
metaphorical chord.

She was becoming acclimated to the sensation
that marked the pulses of resonance that brushed her frequently as
she searched for the Gwaith’orn. When they reached it at last, she
touched the tree briefly to be sure she had the right one. The
powerful vibration was still overwhelming, and she drew back
quickly.

“I have noticed that they never seem to be
alone,” Telyn remarked, leaning against the trunk of a neighboring
rowan as Mithrais prepared to consult the Gwaith’orn. “Do they
always have a circle of ladies in waiting?”

“The ‘ladies’, as you call them, serve a
purpose. Do you see?” Mithrais indicated the intermingling branches
above, and the tangle of roots below. “The resonance is conducted
through the roots and the treetops, and can be carried a greater
distance when there are passive trees nearby. When they stand
alone, they are more difficult to find solely by vibration, but
they are the largest trees in the Wood.”

Mithrais placed his hands against the tree,
lapsing into an attitude of stillness and concentration. From her
place against the rowan’s trunk, Telyn felt the pulse of vibration
leave the grove.

The resonance returned to the grove within
moments, and Telyn waited expectantly to hear what Mithrais had
discovered. The line of his body tensed, and when the Silde finally
turned to her, the expression on his face grim, she knew
immediately what he would say.

“Where is he?” she asked, ice flooding down
her spine.

“The Gwaith’orn sensed him entering the Wood
just after dawn. My wardens are heading this way to intercept The
Dragon even now. He is perhaps two hours behind us, and traveling
quickly.”

“You’re certain it’s him?” Telyn asked,
already knowing the answer.

“The Gwaith’orn are certain. They remember
him, as do I. He carries violence with him like a resonance of his
own.” Mithrais’ green eyes were shadowed with unpleasant
memory.

“Let’s be off, then. Which way?” Telyn forced
herself to sound confident.

“His path suggests he’s tracking us, rather
than making a straight line for Cerisild. We’ll meet the nearest
wardens, and rather than intercept him immediately, perhaps they
can leave a false trail that will delay him. The Gwaith’orn will
help us stay one step ahead.”

“He may be more suspicious after Riordan’s
diversion,” Telyn said flatly.

Mithrais eyes’ glittered with an icy light.
“He will not be easy to trap, but the Tauron have a score to settle
with him.”

Telyn touched the pommel of her dagger,
thinking of her shattered harp on the stones of Riordan’s hall.

“So do I,” she said.

 

 

Chapter
Ten

 

By midday, the rise and fall of the landscape
became more pronounced as they entered the Cesperion Hills, an
ancient mountain range hammered by time and the elements to softly
rounded peaks. There in the wildest part of the forest, the
resonance was all around them. Telyn found that the vibrations were
becoming so intense it distracted her, and made her feel slightly
dizzy. Mithrais did not seem to notice or was not affected by it,
for he did not stop to consult the tree folk again. He had set a
path that would intercept his fellow wardens.

As Westwarden, Mithrais explained, he
answered only to the Tauron Elders, and the other four Tauron in
this part of the deep Wood were his to command when necessary. The
involvement of all would be vital to the next step of the
journey.

Telyn had spoken no more than a few words
since they had started on this path, her face set in a mask of
determination. She knew that Mithrais would have been traveling
much more quickly without her, but if he was concerned about their
speed, he did not show it. He merely offered words of
encouragement, or unhurried assistance whenever Telyn began to lag
behind.

She carefully heeded Mithrais’ cautions about
leaving any clear sign that they had passed, but as the day wore
on, Telyn was beginning to feel the physical toll of their urgent
flight and the persistent resonance of the Gwaith’orn made her
lightheaded. When Telyn stumbled near the crest of one of the great
hills, Mithrais called a halt and handed her the water skin.

“We can take a moment to catch our breath,”
he told her, although he did not seem to be winded in the least.
Telyn sat on the ground and gulped a few mouthfuls of water,
passing the skin back to him and pulling her hair away from her
sweat-dampened face. Mithrais swallowed some water as well before
stowing the skin. While Telyn took advantage of the respite, the
warden looked back through the trees at the valley from which they
had climbed.

“This is one of the highest points in the
Wood,” he told her. “If we were to follow the ridge north for a
league, there is another outpost. That’s where Aric and I spent
much of the winter, for it’s near a village. Do you see the smoke?”
He indicated a hazy cloud that hung above the trees near the
horizon. “There are so few of us now who feel compelled to serve
the Gwaith’orn that we can’t keep watch on all the small villages
scattered throughout the Wood. It’s difficult to be sure they know
which trees not to fell.”

“There are so many more Gwaith’orn here.”
Telyn rubbed her forehead with her fingertips, working at the line
of tension between her eyes. “Now that I know what to listen for,
it’s as if I can’t shut them out.”

Mithrais sat on his heels beside her,
puzzled. “Tell me what you are feeling.”

“The resonance is constantly in my mind. I
don’t even have to look for it anymore. At times it makes me
dizzy.” Telyn shook her head with a small noise of dismissal. “I
know it sounds ridiculous. Am I making any sense at all?”

Mithrais was still a moment, touching her
forehead lightly with his hand. His brow creased slightly when he
realized that her mind was accessible to him.

“Your natural shielding isn’t strong enough
to deflect their resonance here in the deep Wood. Perhaps it was
too soon to teach you to open your mind.” His face was concerned.
“I’ll show you tonight how to strengthen your shields, if you’re
not too tired.” He offered her a hand. “Are you ready to continue,
or do you wish to eat something?”

“I couldn’t eat now. Onward and upward,”
Telyn said with little enthusiasm, placing her hand in his.
Mithrais pulled her to her feet, and they resumed their interrupted
climb, topping the hill and beginning to pick their way carefully
down the opposite side. They were soon at the bottom of a narrow
valley, another tree-covered slope rising before them.

Telyn suddenly reeled against a percussive
wave of resonance, her hands going instinctively to her temples and
her eyes shutting tightly. The dizziness was momentarily
overwhelming, and Mithrais caught her as she started to fall,
easing her to a seat on the ground.

“Telyn, tell me what just happened,” he said,
kneeling beside her. His expression was less concerned than keenly
interested, his gaze searching hers intently.

“There is a Gwaith’orn very close to us,
isn’t there?” she exclaimed, shaking her head to clear it. “That
felt like the signals that left the grove when you spoke with them
this morning, but a hundred times stronger.”

“It did indeed.” Mithrais appeared to be
taken aback. “We can see this Gwaith’orn from here—it’s one of the
forest giants, and stands alone.” He showed her where several
hundred yards down the valley, an enormous tree rose in majesty
against the sky. Its white-barked branches barely visible beneath
the pale green veil of leaves, the Gwaith’orn loomed over the rest
of the trees like a sentry tower. “I felt the resonance pass as you
fell. Are you all right?”

Telyn nodded. “I feel better, now. What is
happening?”

“I’m not sure.” Mithrais paused a moment,
considering. “Do you remember that I told you the Gwaith’orn are
able to draw our attention when they wish to speak with the
Tauron?”

“Yes.” Telyn frowned, rocking to her feet on
the uneven terrain, and stared at the tree. “Do they want to speak
with you now?”

“No.” Mithrais smile was both amused and
mystified as he rose to stand beside her. “That pulse was directed
at you.”

“Me?” Telyn was dumbfounded. She began to say
something else, but Mithrais unexpectedly drew Telyn aside with a
quick, urgent movement and pulled her down behind the trunk of an
oak, raising a finger to his lips.

He had instantly become alert, a flicker
among the trunks of the trees beyond the Gwaith’orn having caught
his eye. Something was moving rapidly in their direction, and as
Telyn, too, caught sight of it, it vanished almost as quickly as it
had come. Mithrais indicated wordlessly that Telyn was to stay
down. The bard nodded tightly, her left hand gripping the pommel of
her dagger and drawing it silently.

Mithrais stood and brought his bow to hand,
his fingers locating the feathered end of an arrow and fitting it
smoothly to the string. He did not draw it but held it loosely
before him, waiting. She heard no other sound in the forest but the
rush of the wind, and the rustle of an inquisitive squirrel in the
brush a few feet away.

Another flicker among the trees came and
went; Mithrais raised the bow slowly. Telyn was certain now that it
was no inhabitant of the wild moving toward them. Her right hand
went to the hilt of the sword where it rose above her shoulder,
waiting. Mithrais sighted on the spot the last movement had
occurred, his fingers tightening on the shaft of the arrow and
drawing it back steadily, ready to let it fly if there was
need.

A low whistle sounded, and Mithrais relaxed
the bow, allowing a grin of relief to crease his face. He answered
with a signal of his own, replacing the weapons in the sheath slung
across his back.

“It’s Aric,” he told Telyn, looking down at
her where she crouched beside the trunk of the tree. Telyn blew out
her breath, sagging limply against the tree for a moment as she
slid the blade back into its sheath. Her ashen face betrayed the
strain she was feeling despite her defensive posture, and her
fingers were cold as Mithrais helped her stand. There was clearly a
figure now running toward them through the trees, cloaked and
hooded in Tauron green.

* * * *

The approaching warden pulled off the hood of
his cloak, revealing the familiar flaming red hair. Mithrais raised
a hand in greeting and walked out to meet him.

“I should have known you’d be first to reach
us,” Mithrais said, grinning broadly as the two exchanged a
soldiers’ greeting.

“Oh, I want him,” Aric said grimly. “That
creature will not elude me this time.” Aric inclined his head
toward Telyn briefly, his glance curious. “At your service, Lady
Bard.”

“How far away is he?” Telyn asked
apprehensively.

Aric gestured vaguely toward the west. “The
Dragon was still a good distance behind you—I would estimate a
league, at least.”

Aric offered his palm to Mithrais, who
clasped it firmly and let the familiar touch of his friend’s mind
wash over him. He showed Mithrais what he had gleaned from the
Gwaith’orn’s resonance in regard to the bounty hunter. The images
were quite distinct, but oddly distracted, for the tree folk had
two targets between whom they were divided. One was most decidedly
the bounty hunter, but the other, Mithrais recognized, was
Telyn.

It was difficult to get them to focus on
the bounty hunter
, Aric told Mithrais silently.
The
Gwaith’orn are still very interested in her, but something has
changed. They have been following her passage more closely than The
Dragon’s.

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