Silvermay by James Moloney

Author:James Moloney
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2011-12-26T16:00:00+00:00

16

The Story of Haylan Redwing

Death had never once asked for my attention in the sixteen years I had spent learning to love the people closest to me. Now it demanded its due in one unbearable charge. Rage took hold of me. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair, that someone as good as Nerigold could be snatched away, that all the years of love and kindness she would have given to the world would never be lived. If my eyes stayed dry as I leaned over her body, it was because I was willing her to come back and live those years. The fight wasn’t over, it couldn’t be over. I wouldn’t give way to the hopelessness of death. Open your eyes, Nerigold. Lucien needs you. I need you. Our friendship had barely begun, and had a lifetime to run because I still wanted it. I wasn’t dead.

Or maybe I was. A guilty voice whispered that I’d died a little myself when I held the blanket over Lucien’s face.

A tear fell, darkening the dust on Nerigold’s dress. Was I crying, after all? Was I so numb from head to toe that I was unable to feel the tears? I touched my cheeks and found them dry. My eyes weren’t swollen and my vision didn’t seem blurred. Where had the tear come from?

I looked up and saw Tamlyn quietly weeping as he stared down at Nerigold’s lifeless body. He sensed me watching him and turned his head. What’s happening to me? his bewildered eyes asked.

‘Haven’t you ever shed tears before?’ I asked.

He seemed startled at such an idea. ‘Never.’ Dabbing tentatively at a teardrop beneath his eye, he examined the end of his finger in wonder. ‘Wyrdborn aren’t known for their tears.’

‘They’re a sign of grief,’ I told him.

And to know this kind of grief, you first have to love. That was another thing the Wyrdborn weren’t known for. The thought set my own tears flowing at last; I grieved for Nerigold because I’d loved her, too.

Suddenly I couldn’t bear to be so close to her. I stood up and pressed myself against Tamlyn. That day, he was no more than a warm pillar I could cling to, someone who would let me cry for as long as I needed while I tried to let go of Nerigold. It took a long time. It is still going on, and maybe it always will.

‘We have to get her out of this chamber,’ I said at last, stepping back a little from Tamlyn’s hold. ‘We can’t let her spend eternity buried between these walls. Master Dessar was right: the pictures are a warning, not a fate.’

Tamlyn and I had made a promise, and getting them both out of the chamber was the first part of making sure we kept it.

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