The Drowned Tomb (The Changeling Series Book 2) (44 page)

“Will you go?” Robin had asked.

She had sipped her soup thoughtfully and delicately for a moment, and then shrugged.

“I think not,” she said, without looking up. “You are still terrible, Scion, and need much training. And besides,” She dipped her spoon again. “I am already home.”

That evening, when Henry was away down in the village on errands with his father and Woad was off in the woods, Robin and Karya, making the most of the summer while it lasted, found themselves walking down by the edge of the lake. Close to Erlking’s border.

“Do you think Miss Peryl will be rewarded by Eris?” Karya asked. “For obtaining half a Shard?”

Robin shrugged. He had no idea.

“Karya,” he said haltingly. “I’ve been meaning to say, but I didn’t know really who to say it to.”

She looked at him with interest as they walked. “It’s about the Grimms,” Robin continued. “Something strange happened down in the tomb. I … saw some things … and I think…”

“Yes?” she prompted when he faltered.

“I’m not sure the Grimms were always … Grimms,” he said, trying to explain himself. “Not as they are now.”

Karya didn’t react for a moment. They walked in silence. “Does it matter what they were?” she said eventually. “What any of us were? You were a normal boy, now you’re the Scion. Your tutor worked for Eris, now she’s on our side. And me? Well, I’m not what I once was either. Maybe none of us are.” She stared for a moment, her golden eyes unfathomable as the lake water lapped the shore nearby.

“What’s important isn’t what you’ve
been
. It’s what you are
now
. And what you’re going to be. That goes for all of us. The Grimms are the Grimms. They are the servants of Eris, and they are dangerous as all hell.”

Robin looked thoughtful. She slapped him on the arm. “Hey, it just means we have to be more dangerous too.”

“The flute of yours,” Robin said. “I know you’re not fond of talking about the past, but tell me just one thing. Why does it work, how can it compel you to come when played? Like it did back at the barrier?”

Karya smiled half-secretive, half-sad. “Because it’s bloody powerful magic, that’s why, Scion. Because it was the leash around my neck.” She looked up into the hot summer sky. “The beacon, or the flute, as you call it, belongs to Eris herself, Scion. She fashioned it. It’s her mana which powers it. It’s how she kept me. It’s how she called me to her.”

Robin didn’t know what to say.

“And stealing it from her and running,” Karya said. “That’s how I got away.” She grinned at Robin. “And this is how I get away from unwanted questions…” and vanished, tearing away.

He grinned too, turning towards the lake.

There, on the folly of the small island, beyond the invisible boundary of Erlking’s influence, stood a figure, staring back at him.

It seemed to have been waiting to be noticed. It gave a cheery little wave, and was gone, a flash of purple in the summer haze.

Robin stared, wide-eyed.

Shrugging out of his jacket and kicking off his trainers, he waded out, and once the cool water was deep enough, he dove and swam. Since bonding with the Shard of Water, he was a strong swimmer, and he reached the small island in minutes, pulling himself up onto the shore, dripping wet, and staring around frantically.

It was no use. Peryl was gone.

A soft movement in the bushes drew his attention, and Robin ran barefoot up the small hillock to where the ruined walls of the folly lay. Beyond the bushes, he stopped dead, not quite believing his eyes.

There, on the stones within the ruined circular wall, lay a boy. Older than he was, sleeping deeply, his torso swathed in bandages, and rolled wolf furs carefully placed under his head. His hair was ash grey, and placed carefully on the floor by his side was a long white bow.

It was Jackalope.

Robin hurried to his side, dropping to his knees, his fingers questing on the Fae’s throat. There was a strong and steady pulse.

Robin noticed a note, tucked carefully into the boy’s hand, deliberately stickling up, waiting to be found. He pulled it free, unfolding the paper. In spiky black writing it said:

Scion
.

This
is
as
good
as
I
could
fix
him
.
You
have
better
healers
at
Erlking
so
he’s
your
problem
now
.
I
can’t
keep
him
.
Brother
Ker
would
tear
him
apart
.

Half
a
Shard
each
,
half
a
good
deed
.

Don’t
get
used
to
it
.
When
next
we
meet
,
I
get
to
shoot
an
arrow
through
your
friend’s
leg
in
recompense
.

I’ll
be
back
for
the
rest
of
my
Shard
.
Let
the
games
begin
.

P

There was a doodled smiley face and several ‘x’ kisses, rather sarcastically drawn.

Robin folded the note, staring down at the sleeping boy, at Jackalope, alive and peaceful under the sun of Erlking. A single butterfly flitted away, high up there in the evening sky, heading back into the wilds.

Although, Robin reasoned, it could have been a moth.

If you enjoyed
The Drowned Tomb
, we would be really grateful if you could leave a review on the Amazon page and Goodreads.

You might also be interested in
Hell’s Teeth
, Book One of the Phoebe Harkness series:

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