Song Magick by Elisabeth Hamill

Author:Elisabeth Hamill
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: love, magic, bard, spell, powers, soldier, assassins, magick, harp, oath, enchantments, exiled, the fates, control emotions, heart and mind, outnumbered, accidental spell, ancient and deadly spell, control others, elisabeth hamill, empathic bond, kings court, lost magic, melodic enchantments, mithrais, price on her head, song magick, sylvan god, telyn songmaker, the wood, unique magical gifts, unpredictable powers, violent aftermath
Publisher: Melange Books

Chapter Sixteen

“Is she all right?” Mithrais asked, concerned. The shared memory of the violent attack had sobered him, and his instinct to protect Telyn had been roused to anger over the events that had unfolded in her mind’s eye. He had had to remind himself that the perpetrator was far beyond his reach, and had already paid for his act. He had been ready to follow her to the balcony as she fled, but Gwidion had stayed his movement with a gesture.

“She will be. Telyn has more strength and courage than she knows, and in time, she will be able to turn that courage inward and forgive herself.”

“She is very brave. And that’s not all.” Mithrais sighed, glancing at the doorway where Telyn had disappeared. He offered Gwidion his open hand. “Some of the most important events of the last few days concern Telyn, and the Gwaith’orn.”

When their clasped hands finally parted, Gwidion placed a hand on Mithrais’ shoulder, a gesture offering comfort and reassurance to his son. There were no words needed; Gwidion had seen the raw guilt that Aric’s death had left behind, and knew that Mithrais must also be allowed to come to his own terms with the loss of his closest friend.

The bard had silently reentered the room as they had communed, having won a relieved composure with the use of her disciplines. The Lord of Cerisild looked at Telyn wonderingly as she reclaimed the empty chair, his features alight with interest.

“Mithrais has told me what occurred between you and the Gwaith’orn, Telyn. It seems your presence here is part of a larger fate.” Gwidion nodded toward the piles of scrolls on his desk with barely contained excitement. “Somewhere in the Tauron histories are the answers to this puzzle. I vaguely remember a reference to someone called a ‘seed-speaker’ in some of the earliest records, but the old language is a bit thick and difficult to wade through. It may not be easy to find again.”

* * * *

Telyn sat up, hope and interest piqued. Here, at last, was something that she could do to help unravel the riddle of the Gwaith’orn. “The court histories are the same way. I can read and speak the old language. If you would allow me to assist you, we might be able to find it more quickly.”

“I would like that.” Gwidion smiled at her, surprised and pleased. “Perhaps we can even attempt some conversation.” He glanced sidelong at Mithrais with mock disapproval. “I have tried to teach both of my sons the old language, but without use, it is difficult to retain.”

This elicited a sheepish smile from Mithrais, and Telyn laughed. “He did remember enough to greet me in the Wood.”

“And well he should have,” Gwidion agreed. “That is a part of the Sildan heritage which is all too quickly being forgotten. The histories will also give you a better understanding of the relationship between the Gwaith’orn and the Tauron Order.”

“Thank you.” Telyn drew a breath. “It seems that I have little time to waste.

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