by Kate Forsyth
‘Better than calling her “thing”,’ Merry replied, beginning to pick out a sweet tune. ‘If you had treated her with respect, your father might have given her to you instead of to me.’
‘What use would a lute be to me?’ Zed said. ‘Mama gave me her dagger, a far more useful gift to a hero-in-waiting.’ He gave the ornate hilt of his dagger an affectionate rub.
Liliana had been looking back and forth between them in bemusement. Merry wondered if she had ever had this kind of easy, teasing relationship with anyone before.
‘Lili,’ the Erlrune said in a gentle voice. ‘Come, lay down your bow, sit with me. Let me pour you some of my elderflower wine. You look tired. Did you really come through the Gorge of Ghouls at night, in the wintertime? That cannot have been easy.’
Merry exchanged a quick glance with Zed, impressed despite himself. The Gorge of Ghouls was one of the few hidden ways into the Erlrune’s valley, and was guarded by the cruellest and most dangerous of all the wildkin. Only fire or the ringing of bells repelled them, and the gorge was knee-deep in the bones of those who had failed to escape their icy clutch. He and Zed had passed through at noon on a warm autumn day, and it had been the most frightening thing they had ever experienced. He could not imagine facing the ghouls in the dark.
‘I did,’ Liliana said quietly. She unhooked her quiver of arrows and her bow, and laid them both by her knee, within easy reach, as she sat on the very edge of a straight-backed chair. She folded her hands in her lap, her face grave.
The Erlrune poured golden wine into four small crystal glasses that stood waiting on a round silver tray. Merry exchanged a look with Zed at this further evidence of the Erlrune’s foresight. Normally, there were only three wine glasses. The Erlrune passed one to Liliana as the boys took their glasses, Merry carefully laying down his lute first.
‘I am glad to have you safe here with me again, Lili darling,’ the Erlrune said. ‘Let us all drink to your safe arrival, and to the first day of the month of shedding antlers.’
Solemnly everyone clinked their glasses together, the crystal ringing with a pure sound like bells, and then drank. Merry’s curiosity about their visitor was growing steadily, and he could tell from Zed’s close regard that he was intrigued too. Who was she to be called ‘darling’ by the Erlrune? The boys had lived with the Erlrune for months now, and she never called them by any endearment.
Years before the boys had been born, their parents had come to the old Erlrune, asking permission to look into the Well of Fates and discover who had cast the Count of Estelliana into an enchanted sleep, closer to death than life. Zed’s parents, Lisandre and Pedrin, had promised the Erlrune their firstborn child in return for her help in breaking the spell, for the count was Lisandre’s beloved brother, Zygmunt.
Merry’s parents, Durrik and Maglen, had travelled on that perilous adventure with Zed’s parents, along with Briony, the slight, dark-haired girl who was now the Erlrune, the most powerful sorceress in the land.
When the boys had first arrived at Evenlinn, Briony had been the Erlrune for little more than a year, after nursing Lady Marjolaine, her teacher and mentor, through a long illness. Merry thought the position troubled her. Briony spent her evenings with her head bent over massive, thick books or gazing into the Well of Fates, the magical pool she guarded. She often paced her little parlour, her bandaged hands clasped tightly before her.
Although Merry’s parents had not promised their firstborn child to the Erlrune, there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that Merry would accompany Zed when it came time to fulfil the promise made so many years before. They had been brought up together at Estelliana Castle, close as brothers, learning to ride and hunt and fish and fight, and rather more reluctantly, how to read and write and dance and work out sums in their heads. When Zed had turned sixteen, two weeks after Merry, his parents had taken the boys to the edge of the Perilous Forest, embraced them both lovingly, and told them to be careful, to do whatever the Erlrune told them, and to watch out for the lake-lorelei, whose haunting song could lure men to their deaths.
Zed and Merry had had an adventurous few weeks getting to the Erlrune’s house, which was built on an island in the centre of the Evenlinn, the very first lake below the mountain ridge. Since then, however, it had been nothing but lessons. Merry hated fighting practice, but was fascinated by the Erlrune’s instruction in history and politics and magical lore. Zed, however, loved to fight and hunt and ride and wrestle, but found the lessons boring and difficult. Both boys knew, however, that Zed was destined for great things, and enduring the Erlrune’s schooling was the cost.
Before the boys had even been born, Merry’s father Durrik had spoken a prophecy, foretelling the birth of three children born ‘between star-crowned and iron-bound’, or between those of hearthkin blood and starkin blood.
Durrik himself had been the first child, ‘the sower of seeds’. Zed was thought to be the second child, as he too was born of a hearthkin father and a starkin mother, and Durrik had felt strongly that the prophecy was somehow linked to Lisandre and her yet-to-be-born son.
The two lines in the prophecy that predicted Zed’s future were mysterious and unsettling:
Next shall be the king-breaker, the king-maker,
though broken himself he shall be.
It was no easy thing to have such a fate laid out for you before you were even born. Zed rarely spoke about it, only saying with a shrug that ‘whatever will be will be, and there’s no point droning on about it’.
The prophecy went on to say the third child would be the true king of all, and Merry often wondered if this meant Zed’s son would one day inherit the starkin throne. His mother Lisandre was a starkin princess, one of the Ziv royal family, directly descended from the eldest daughter of the fourth starkin king.
Zed always shrugged when Merry wondered about this, and reminded his friend that women and the descendants of women were not permitted to inherit under starkin law, which put Lisandre—and therefore himself—out of the running. His Uncle Zygmunt had put in a petition to King Zabrak, however, asking for the law to be changed so that Zed could one day become Count of Estelliana since Zygmunt had no children of his own. He was not the only landowner in Ziva wanting to see the law changed, and so Zygmunt had hopes the king would see reason, particularly as Prince Zander, the king’s only son and heir, had only managed to sire a half-wildkin daughter himself. There were many other families eager to seize power, if those of the Ziv did not find some way to keep the crown in the family.
‘So what did Liliana mean before, when she said we were no use at all?’ Zed asked the Erlrune. ‘Why did she set a trap for us like that?’
‘I’d like the answer to that as well,’ the Erlrune said, looking at Liliana with raised eyebrows. ‘I told you I didn’t want you to meet Merry and Zed until I’d had a chance to see if they were willing to help you.’
Liliana lifted her chin defiantly. ‘What if I am not willing to have them? They do not seem as if they’ll be much help at all!’
‘You are far too quick to judge,’ the Erlrune said. ‘I asked you a question, Liliana Vendavala. Do me the courtesy of answering me.’
There was an awkward silence, then Liliana sighed and let her shoulders slump. ‘They are of starkin blood. The starkin are my enemies. I don’t want their help.’
‘Why? You know of Durrik’s prophecy. You know of their parents’ work. Why do you not trust them?’
‘Where do their loyalties lie?’ she burst out. ‘He’s one of the Ziv!’ She jerked her head furiously towards Zed. ‘What if we get to Zarissa and they betray me?’
‘Zarissa?’ Zed interrupted. ‘Why should we go to the capital? What is this all about?’
The Erlrune sighed. ‘I would’ve liked a chance to tell you in my own time, but Lili is always impatient.’
‘Impatient! When I’ve spent all winter waiting, waiting, waiting . . .’
‘I would you had waited just a few hours more!’ The Erlrune flashed
, then smiled. ‘But come. Let us have some supper, and then we can tell the boys your story. They know some of it already. And you should not fear them, Lili darling. They may be of starkin blood, but they do not hate the wildkin.’
‘I do not fear them!’
‘Excellent. Then we do not have a problem. Ah, here comes Mallik to tell us supper is ready. I ordered your favourites, Lili.’
Liliana bit her lip, then smiled ruefully. ‘Oh, Aunt Briony, I was so sure I was going to surprise you! If you had only seen me creeping through the hedgerows . . .’
‘Oh, but I did!’
The Erlrune’s laughing rejoinder was drowned by cries of surprise from Zed and Merry. ‘Aunt? Aunt Briony?’
‘Liliana’s your niece? But I thought you were a foundling child!’ Merry exclaimed.
‘I was. Found as a baby, half-frozen in the forest. But what use is the Well of Fates if it cannot tell me my own story? Come, let us go to eat, and I’ll tell it to you too.’
CHAPTER 3
A Very Sad Story
LILIANA STUDIED THE TWO BOYS COVERTLY AS THEY ATE SUPPER.
She had never had much to do with boys before, having grown up in the ruins of Stormlinn Castle with only an old wildkin woman to keep her company. She found them rather baffling. They called each other rude names, like ‘squirt’ and ‘cabbage-head’, and were always punching each other in the arm. They did not seem to take anything seriously, let alone her quest, which was the most important thing in the world to Liliana.
She had come to the Evenlinn prepared to feel nothing but suspicion and contempt for them. Were they not both of starkin blood, privileged and pampered all their lives? Yet she had watched them fight in the clearing and had been impressed against her will, particularly by the big, fair one who was very skilled indeed. He looked just as she imagined a starkin prince would look, though he did not seem quite so supercilious and arrogant as she had expected.
She glanced at the other one, who was much more ordinary looking. Their eyes met, and at once she looked down at her plate.
It contained her most favourite meal—roast hare with damson sauce, served with a salad of wild greens and marigolds. Liliana’s old nursemaid, Stiga, did not often manage to catch a hare for their supper and so it was always a high treat, a blessed change from root soup and gruel made from ground chestnuts. Now that Liliana was grown and able to hunt too, they had meat more often, but the mountain hares were wily and not easily caught. She had to stop herself from gobbling, telling herself that she was the granddaughter of the last Erlqueen of the Stormlinn, and must represent the wildkin people with grace and poise.
After they had eaten their fill, Briony led them back to her parlour. Firelight flickered over the walls and shone on the silver jugs and cups on the sideboard. Liliana was tired out after her long day, but she did not let her back slump like the two boys did, leaning back on their cushions and looking well fed and comfortable. She looked at them with scorn and kept her own back straight.
‘So tell us everything,’ Merry demanded, leaning forward to take a glass of elderflower wine from the Erlrune. ‘Why have we never heard you had a niece before?’
‘I only discovered Lili last year, and then we thought it was best if we kept it quiet. The king thinks all the descendants of the Erlkings and Erlqueens of Stormlinn are dead. If he knew . . . well, I don’t think our lives would be worth much at all.’
Liliana snorted at this understatement. ‘He’d have us hunted down like rabbits.’
‘But surely you could have told us!’ Zed said. ‘You send messages to my parents all the time. Mama would be thrilled to know you had family of your own; she’s always worrying about how lonely you must be, here at the Evenlinn all by yourself.’
‘There are spies everywhere,’ Liliana said. ‘It wasn’t worth the risk.’
‘Not at Estelliana Castle!’ Zed protested.
‘Everywhere,’ Liliana insisted.
‘I’m sorry, Zed, I would’ve loved to have told your parents, and your mam too, Merry. But Lili is right. Messages can go astray, homing pigeons can be shot down, and the king’s spymaster has eyes and ears everywhere. The king thinks he has wiped out the Stormlinn forever. I do not want him to know he is wrong. Not yet, anyway.’
‘But why did it take you so long to find each other?’ Merry asked. ‘I’d have thought that one of the first things you’d have done as Erlrune is look into the Well of Fates and find out who you really were.’
‘Oh, I did. But you need to know the right question to ask. And you must remember I only became the Erlrune a year or so ago. Lady Marjolaine was very ill for a long time.’ Briony spread her hand, looking at the rusty stains on the palm of her bandaged hand. ‘We must cut ourselves before we look in the Well of Fates, you know. Lady Marjolaine had cut herself month after month, year after year. As she grew older and frailer, her skin refused to heal. The wounds festered and grew poisoned. And her mind wandered. She did not recognise me, or know who I was. It was very difficult trying to nurse her and learning what I must do to be Erlrune when my teacher was so ill.’
Briony sighed and shrugged, looking so weary that Liliana wished she could comfort her aunt somehow. She did not know what to do or say, though, and so she glanced away, feeling uncomfortable.
‘So when Lady Marjolaine died, it was the dead of winter. I went to the Well of Fates, I cut myself and I asked, “Who am I?” The pool showed me my birth at Stormfell Castle. It showed me how my family was murdered and how I came to be lost. It was dreadful. The months passed, and I asked more and more questions, but not once did I think to ask if anyone still lived in the ruins of the castle. Spring came, and I was restless, unhappy. I wanted to see Stormfell and the castle, the place where I’d been born and where all my family had died, and so I travelled down the river.’
‘And that was when she found me,’ Liliana said, and was dismayed to hear her own voice cracking with emotion. She cleared her throat, and her aunt smiled at her affectionately.
‘Yes, and what a wild child she was too!’
Liliana scowled. ‘I was not!’
‘I don’t think threatening to shoot someone is how you usually introduce yourself in polite society,’ Briony teased.
Liliana raised her chin. ‘You were trespassing.’
‘That is how we met, anyway. Me exploring the ruins of Stormlinn Castle, and Lili leaping out from behind a broken arch with an arrow aimed at my heart.’
‘Well, I did try and get rid of you by other ways.’
‘By moaning and rattling old chains and throwing rocks at me,’ Briony said, smiling.
‘Well, it usually works. Most people are afraid of ghosts.’
‘I wanted to see the ghosts of my family,’ Briony replied. ‘I had so much I wanted to know.’
‘So what happened at Stormlinn Castle? How were you lost?’ Merry asked.
‘It’s a very sad story,’ Briony said, and poured herself another glass of wine with hands that were not quite steady.
She drank deeply, then put her glass down, wrapping her arms about her knees. Her eyes were very dark.
‘I think you know that the wildkin used to be ruled by the Erlkings and Erlqueens of Stormlinn. Their court was merry with feasting and dancing and singing and storytelling. All kinds of wildkin were welcome there, and those born with Gifts were venerated.’
There was a long pause as Briony rested her chin in her hand and stared into the glowing heart of the fire. ‘Seven generations ago, the starkin came to this land. You all know the tale. How they were welcomed kindly at first, and even in some cases worshipped like gods.’
‘Until they revealed their cruel, cold hearts,’ Liliana said.
‘Not all starkin are like that,’ Zed protested.
Liliana snorted in contempt. ‘All starkin are scum.’
‘I wish you’d stop saying that,’ Zed said.
‘It’s like saying all wildkin are savage,’ Merry cried, ‘or all hearthkin are stupid
. It’s just not true! Zed’s family are good people, and there are plenty of other starkin families who try to do the right thing too. You’re being as narrow-minded as all those people who hunt the wildkin down, regardless of what they’ve done.’
Liliana opened her mouth to argue, but Briony spoke sternly. ‘He’s right, Lili. And we will never have peace as long as such prejudices exist. You shame the Vendavala name with such talk. The Erlkings and Erlqueens always ruled with justice and compassion.’
Colour rushed up Liliana’s face, and she looked down at her interlinked hands to hide the sudden sheen of tears in her eyes. ‘Unlike the starkin kings!’
Briony nodded. ‘I’m afraid that’s all too true. The starkin kings have always been cruel in throwing down any opposition.’
Merry said impatiently, ‘We know all this.’
‘What you may not know is that the people of the Stormlinn were the only ones to resist the starkin’s rule,’ Briony said. ‘They were protected by the Perilous Forest, and by their magic. For more than a hundred years the starkin were preoccupied with building their cities and laying down their laws and did not pay them much heed.’
She sipped her wine, as if seeking courage to go on. ‘The Erlkings tried to keep their people safe in the forest, but as the years went by, Stormlinn Castle grew overcrowded as refugees fled from the massacres, and the Erlking did not know how to feed and keep them all. Then the starkin came and began to cut down the forest and the wildkin began to fight.
‘That was when young Prince Zander, son of King Zabrak, came with a troupe of soldiers, professing to come in peace.’
Liliana made a contemptuous noise in her throat, but did not speak. Briony glanced at her and smiled reassuringly.
‘They killed them all, didn’t they?’ Merry said. ‘The Erlking let them into the castle, and broke bread with them and drank wine and ate salt, and the starkin prince waited till everyone was sleeping and then killed them all. He broke all the laws of hospitality.’
‘Not to mention decency,’ Zed said dryly.
