Page 24 of To Touch A Silent Fury
If dragons could shrug, she would have.Whatever we concoct. Impurity, some disturbance of her mind, something of her parentage.
I realised then I knew nothing of the girl’s parentage anyway, beyond the awareness they were from the Touchlands. Were they alive or dead? Had they taken the money from the Brotherhood gratefully, or with the awareness there was no other real choice?
It is risky,I thought.What if her intended sees through the machination and marries her anyway? Once she is wed, she may have the power to turn hearts against my father. To turn love to hate, servitude to bitterness.
Chaethor rumbled, thinking aloud what had been swirling in my head already.Then you must tell the king, and she must face what comes to her.
At his fourth span, Stormnoon began to see the same thing over and over. A finely decorated and gilded shield. Over the course of several years, he used the visions to track it. He eventually found it buried in a cellar somewhere in the marshes of Manniston. Courvin’s famous golden round. He touched it, and he changed. A Fated Mark of swirling ripples formed at the edges of his face, and his visions grew into something far more potent. He was the first recorded Marked Moontouched.
With such an asset at his side, Praevontil the Kind created the Brotherhood. Though, it didn’t help the festering superstitions when he squirrelled them all on a faraway island only just rid of its last Nox patient. Since then, children had been identified across the five lands, taken from their homes in return for a healthy stipend to their often all-too-relieved families, then Fated and bartered.
In the generations since, the Brotherhood of the Moontouched had become one of the Sightlands' most treasured exports.
I’d never really given them much thought before these last few days. I’d believed the Brothers solemn and creepy, with little to lend. But Tanidwen, while uniquely captivating, held a power that couldn’t be trusted to any court. If she was a Sightlander herself, that might be something, but she had no allegiance to us.
I sighed.It is a shame, though, to kill an innocent.
Chaethor tutted, and I felt the echoes of my father’s teachings in her voice.What is one life in the face of a nation? She is from the Touchlands. They do not share our beliefs, our readings, our way of life. They do not see as we do.
There was nothing for it. She was an unknown entity, operating under unknowable prejudices.Then it must be done.
We must Break her Fate.
And there was only one true way to guarantee that outcome. I leaned down closer to Chaethor, rubbing her neck. “At least we got a nice trip out of it.”
Chaethor purred.Let us hope he sends us onwards. I like the feel of the wind under my wings.
I hummed in agreement.Though I am looking forward to food with some flavour. The Soundlands and the Brotherhood do not trade with Taste enough, and itshows.
You are so spoiled.
Rich, coming from you. I saw the way you looked at your own dinner last night.
Chaethor grumbled.Whoever started the rumour that dragons enjoy mutton ought to be burnt alive.
Despite the lighter conversation and the promise of a full belly and a soft bed, I felt our combined guilt as the tailwind pushed us closer to home. My father would only know by our grace. Her life was in our hands, and what happened next was on our shoulders, whoever’s fingers grasped the hilt.
I had killed before. Only twice, but I had done it. This, however, was not so much a killing, but a sacrifice for the safety of a kingdom. The girl had made no threats, spoken no unkindness. And yet, she would likely die for the threat in her very blood.
What she had been able to read from just one touch of my hand alarmed me. No matter what happened when her Fate was met, this was something which could not be allowed to grow. To read that at a distance, or tochangeone’s feelings.
I had told the Threads that day that I did not fear the girl. I wondered if she had any idea how much that had changed.
8
Tani
“We’re here.” Seth sat in front of me with a small smile and knocked on the window between us with a knuckle.
For a moment I just blinked, scrunching my face up as I stretched. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been out for that time, but it must have been at least an hour judging by the drool at the corner of my mouth. It was stuffy in the carriage—that perfect just-too-warm temperature—which made it far too easy to fall asleep. “What?”
“We’re here,” he repeated. “Lavendell Point.”
We were here. We werehere.
Landing at Verdusk felt like a lifetime ago now, but it was only a tenday. The men at the port had stared at me with an uncomfortable greed as the harbour master signed us through. Every passenger leaving Eavenfold had to come through Verdusk, which gave one explanation for why we hadn’t just gone straight for Ville-Fleur. The other explanation was his inclinationto keep me out of sight where possible for our journey; an easier task in the smaller provincial inns around Cavelot than traversing the city of Olfanger.
I scrambled up to my feet despite the still moving vehicle and jammed open the carriage window, letting the pungent aromas and a welcome breeze fill our small cabin. It was no surprise that I was deeply relieved to find our journey nearing its end. The last two weeks, I had seen nothing of the world that wasn’t visible through my carriage window, or the window of whichever crumbling inn the Thread pulled us into, if there even was one. Small joys had come from the vistas of the hills of vineyards and the bluebell fields of Junisper, but at the end of each day, the Thread would remove any wonder I had with his courtly instruction and curt commentary.
