The Wildkin’s Curse (42 page)

Merry floated in a night sky that seemed filled with dazzling stars. Shoshanna was drawing him ever higher, her hands gently cradling him.

He thought sadly of Liliana, and was glad that he had at least held her and kissed her. He wished he knew that she was safe. He turned his face downwards again, looking for her, filled with anguish at the thought of leaving her.
Lili, where are you?

Mags stood still, her face drained of all blood, her fists clenched. ‘No,' she murmured. ‘Not my Merry.'

Liliana lifted his body, looking frantically for a wound that she could touch and heal with her hands, but there was nothing. Tom-Tit-Tot whimpered, and flew down to perch beside the body, nudging Merry with his nose. Then he threw back his head and howled.

‘Let me try,' Palila said. Moving slowly and stiffly, she knelt beside Merry and began to pump his heart with her hands, pausing to breathe into his mouth, before pumping again.

After a long while she sat back on her heels, shaking her head. ‘It's no use. He's dead.'

‘No!' Mags cried. ‘No! I won't let him be! No!'

Liliana had the strangest sensation, as though her heart had stopped beating, and time had telescoped.

Three times you'll play dice with death, and the third time you'll yield your breath
.
The only thing that can save you is the very thing that killed you.

Liliana looked around the room. Lying close by Merry's body was a strange, two-pronged fork attached by wires to a machine that looked rather like the treadmills used to grind corn. Faint blue light flickered between the prongs.

Liliana seized the prong, shouldered Palila roughly out of the way, and pressed the prongs against Merry's heart. Blue fire zinged, and Merry's body flailed and fell limp. Wiping away tears, Liliana did it again, and then again. The third time, Merry's body convulsed so violently that suddenly he opened his mouth and gasped a breath. He gasped again, and then took a deep, ragged inhalation.

Liliana pressed her hand against his cheek, and then against his chest. ‘He's breathing. I can't believe it, he's breathing!'

Tom-Tit-Tot began to dance all around the room, shrieking with joy.

Mags sobbed and sat down suddenly on the floor.

‘Mam?' Merry said dazedly. ‘Is it you? Are you a ghost?'

‘No, I'm alive and kicking,' Mags said. ‘And very glad to see you alive too!'

‘Are you sure? He said you were dead. He said . . . your head . . .'

‘Said you were dead, sawed off your head,' Tom-Tit-Tot shrieked, beside himself with joy.

‘It was a trick, to get into the palace,' Mags said. ‘Don't worry, my boy, I'm fine and so are you.' She came and embraced him closely, stroking his pale face with her fingers, tucking the lank strands of dark hair back behind his ears.

Liliana, however, seized Merry by the shoulders and shook him. ‘Don't you ever do that to me again!'

‘I won't,' he promised and smiled. ‘Lili . . . my love.'

Aubin crept through the dark corridors, finding his way by touch and memory, his strength ebbing out of him with his blood. With one hand he dragged his sword. The other was pressed over his wound.

He had been woken by the thrust of his own sword through his shoulder. Screaming in pain, he jerked upright and saw the face of the astronomer bending over him. ‘Thank you for all your help,' Ambrozius had whispered and then he had left Aubin to slowly bleed to death. Aubin could only watch helplessly as they dragged Merry out of the pit and carried him away, half-conscious with pain, one arm dangling uselessly.

Aubin had shut his eyes, seized his sword hilt in his hand and heaved it out of his shoulder. Then he had begun slowly to crawl out of the dungeon, sword in one hand. Many times he had stopped, fading from consciousness. Always he forced himself to swim back up to painful awareness and keep on moving.

It was in his mind to follow Merry and try to save him, but Aubin did not know which way to go. So he did the only other thing he could think of. He crawled, down the corridor, towards the cellar where the fusillier fuel was stacked. He knew the way well. It had taken him hours to move the glass caskets. It had all been done at night, with little more light than what was left flickering now in the cellars.

At last he made it to the cellars beneath the Tower of Stars. Row upon row of blue, gleaming caskets met his eye. They were stacked along the far wall, with the intention of ensuring the crystal tower fell outwards, into the sea, leaving the rest of the palace intact. The sight almost undid him. What could he do? He did not have the strength to move all the caskets back. So Aubin lifted his sword and began methodically to smash the caskets. Glass splintered and broke. Fusillier fuel flooded over the floor.

‘You fool!' a voice snarled. ‘What are you doing? You will ruin everything!'

Aubin half-turned, leaning on his sword. The astronomer stood behind him, his face transformed with rage, the white panther snarling by his side. ‘You tricked me,' Aubin said slowly. ‘You lied to me and . . . tricked me . . . into betraying my lord . . .'

‘I should've made sure you were dead!' Ambrozius said.

‘Yes,' Aubin said, and with the last of his strength swung out with his sword. It connected with the lantern the astronomer carried, and smashed it to the floor. The last thing Aubin saw, before the world exploded into blue flame, was the terror in the astronomer's eyes.

‘Will you fly with me?' Zed murmured into Rozalina's black hair. ‘There is a ship waiting for us below. I swear I won't drop you.'

‘I trust you,' she said, so that Zed had to kiss her again.

Hand in hand they climbed to the sill of the east-facing window, then Zed wrapped her in his arms. Together they leapt out into space.

It was a clear, moonlit night. Far below, on a shining silver sea, they saw the shape of a ship, sails filled with wind. Far above, stars and a three-quarter moon floated, huge and bright above the horizon. The sun was only an orange memory across the horizon.

It was an extraordinary feeling, to soar through the dark, vast spaces of the night, his one true love held in his arms. For one moment, Zed felt a pure, uncontaminated joy.

Then the Tower of Stars exploded behind them.

Merry drew Liliana down, brushing her mouth gently with his own, then smiled crookedly at his mother.

‘Mam, this is Lili.'

‘We've met,' she said, regarding them with a wry smile. ‘She's my kind of girl.'

‘Mine too.'

‘So I can see.'

Merry grinned. He was feeling very shaken and strange, as if his arms and legs were made of soggy wool.

‘Where is that potion I made for you?' Palila said.

Merry's head snapped round at the sound of her voice. ‘You!'

Palila found the small green bottle that she had tucked in his pack so many hours ago and brought it to him, kneeling painfully by his side. ‘I am so sorry. I knew what he would do to you. I was afraid, horribly afraid. I thought that I was betraying you so Rozalina would be safe, so nothing would stop the king making her his heir, but in truth I was just trying to save myself.'

‘It's not just me you betrayed, but my father.' Merry's voice faltered, and he dashed one hand across his eyes. ‘Mam, you and the Erlrune thought Palila was on your side, but she wasn't! She was betraying you all the time.'

Mags strode forward, her face suddenly dark with anger. ‘What?'

Palila fell to her knees, head bowed, her hands held up in supplication. ‘I'm sorry. I could not bear him hurting me anymore. Kill me now, get it over and done with. I don't deserve to live.'

Mags looked down at the old woman's scarred, misshapen hands, then roughly raised the old woman to her feet. ‘I don't kill,' she said brusquely. ‘You think I'm a starkin, that I would kill you for no greater crime than trying to keep yourself safe? You say you're sorry. Well, show us! Come and work with us, and help us heal those that are hurt and help those that are helpless.'

‘A crutch for the crippled, a shield for the meek, a voice for the speechless, a sword for the weak,' Merry said softly, and Mags smiled at him.

Palila looked from one to the other. ‘You mean it? You really can forgive me?'

‘Maybe one day,' Mags said. ‘If you work hard enough. Start by helping my son.'

Palila picked up the bottle she had dropped and brought it to Merry. Her hands were trembling so much she could not hold it to his lips, and so Liliana took it from her and helped Merry to drink. The medicine gave him the strength to sit up.

Suddenly he heard an immense sound, like a thousand crystal chandeliers smashing to the ground at once. The sky lit up with pale fire. Merry struggled to his feet. ‘Oh, no! The crystal tower . . .'

‘It's exploding,' Liliana cried. ‘Zed is there, with Rozalina! Could they have got free?'

‘Zed . . .' Merry whispered. ‘Oh, no, not Zed . . .'

He staggered to the window, Liliana and Mags helping him. There was an eerie white glow to the sky that showed everything sharp and clear and strange. Merry saw a ship far below, sails billowing out. He saw Zed and Rozalina flying in the sky, the cloak of feathers spread like wings behind them. And, towering above them, an avalanche of ice, a cascade of white glass, crashing down upon them.

‘When there's dawn at sunset, and frost in spring,' Liliana whispered through her tears. ‘Oh, Stiga, why couldn't you have spoken clear?'