The Bonemender's Choice (23 page)

At last, in the protected circle of a small clearing, he brushed off a fallen log, sat her down and stood before her. He seemed about to speak, searching for words, but then he shrugged. “Ah, it is what it is. I’m just stalling.” And he opened his mouth and began to sing.

He chose a cradlesong, simpler in its melody than most Elvish music but beautiful and hypnotic.

Gabrielle closed her eyes to listen, not wanting to be distracted by Féolan’s self-consciousness or to increase it by staring.

It was certainly not the clear fluid voice she was used to.
The voice that sang to her now was deeper, with a distinct grain. Growly in the bottom notes and husky at the top of his range, Féolan’s voice was like no other Elf’s on earth. Yet the more she listened, the more Gabrielle heard warmth and depth and Féolan’s own sure musicality. He had found the beauty in the damaged instrument he had been given.

The song came to an end, but Gabrielle sat still, holding the sound in her mind.

Féolan cleared his throat. “That bad?”

“Oh, love, no, I’m sorry!” Gabrielle was penitent. “That was mean, to keep you waiting while I daydreamed.”

He shifted his weight, like a boy at lessons asked to recite.

“What do you think, then?”

She grinned at him. “Well, you’ll never be asked to sing at a wedding or baby naming.”

He laughed in agreement, the tension broken. Eyed her. “Is there a ‘but’ to come?”

“There is indeed,” she agreed. “BUT—I know of at least two people who will always be glad to listen to you sing.”

“You being one?”

“Me being one,” she said. She kept him waiting just for a heartbeat. “Your child being the other.”

“My—”

Gabrielle watched as the import of her words took hold. She had never seen his eyes so round.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “So soon?”

“So soon?” Now it was her turn to stare. “It’s been six years!”

“That’s what I mean,” he began. Then he closed his mouth.
Walked over to her, pulled her up from her log and wrapped her in his arms.

“Even after six years, now and then our worlds bump together, and I am slow to catch on,” he said. “It wasn’t soon for you, was it?”

She shook her head against his chest, a little teary. “I was wondering if it would ever happen.”

They held each other in the snowy silent clearing. Then Gabrielle pulled back a little. “I’m sorry to take you by surprise. Will it be a problem?”

“It will be wonderful.” He meant it. Had she been blindfolded and missed the dazed silly grin that spread across his face, she would still have felt his delight. “Some surprises are good. Some are wonderful.”

“Féolan, I’m afraid I lied to you earlier,” Gabrielle confessed. “You
will
be asked to sing at a baby naming, after all.”

Holly Bennett is the author of
The Bonemender
and
The Bonemender’s Oath,
prequels to
The Bonemender’s Choice
, as well as the Druidic fantasy,
The Warrior’s Daughter
. In addition to writing, she is editor-in-chief of
Today’s Parent
Special Editions. Born in Montreal, Quebec, she lives in Peterborough, Ontario, with a houseful of musicians (three sons and a husband) and a nice quiet dog.

New York Public Library Books for the Teen Age
IRA Notable Book
Canadian Children’s Book Centre Our Choice starred selection
Ontario Library Association White Pine Award nominee

The Bonemender
978-1-55143-336-3 $9.95
CDN
• $8.95
US PB
Ages
12+

“...will appeal to fantasy and adventure
fans alike.”
—KLIATT

The Bonemender’s Oath
978-1-55143-443-8 $9.95
CDN
• $8.95
US PB
Ages
12+

“...engaging characters, suspense, a
subtle dose of humor and wonderfully
descriptive tones...with strong ties to
honor, love, family and friendship.”

—KLIATT

The Warrior’s Daughter
978-1-55143-607-4 $9.95
CDN
• $8.95
US PB
Ages
12+

“...told with insight, compassion and
skill...Bennett becomes, book by book,
an ever more accomplished writer of
fantasy...”

—Okanagan College Deakin Newsletter