The Curse on the Chosen (The Song of the Tears Book 2) Read Online Free Page A

drawn out of me …’
    ‘How does that help?’
    ‘What if he didn’t just take from me? What if he gave as
well?’
    Nish frowned, the flickering crystal lighting the furrows
across his forehead. ‘Xervish? Could Maelys be the woman in red you were raving
about?’
    ‘She isn’t wearing red.’
    ‘Perhaps, in the fever, she seemed to be.’
    Flydd shook his head vigorously, then winced. ‘The woman in
red looked nothing like Maelys. She wasn’t beautiful; her face was stern and
arrogant; and she was bigger, taller, and older.’
    Maelys stared at Flydd. He thought she was beautiful? No one
had ever said that before.
    ‘Did you give anything to Maelys?’ Nish persisted.
    ‘Can’t remember what happened during renewal,’ Flydd said
hoarsely. ‘Few mancers ever do.’
    ‘Is it the kind of thing you might have done?’
    ‘Not unless I was desperate. What mancer would willingly
give away the least fraction of his Art, knowing he might never get it back?’
    ‘But you were desperate, Xervish,’ Maelys said softly,
glancing over her shoulder at the barrier. Jal-Nish could return at any second.
‘Nish, use your clearsight on me, quickly .’
    He put his hands around her skull, above her ears, and Maelys
shivered at his touch. Nish didn’t press hard, nor hold his hands there long,
and when he drew away there was an odd look in his eyes.
    ‘Xervish, I think you did pass something to Maelys, and yet
…’
    ‘My Art?’ Flydd said hoarsely. ‘My precious Art?’
    Maelys hadn’t realised that it meant so much to him, though
when she thought about it, to have been a great mancer for so long, and then to
lose it in a moment, must be like losing a limb. No, worse, for a man with no
legs can walk with crutches, but losing one’s Art would be like going back to
the helplessness of infancy.
    ‘There’s something not right, though.’ Nish swallowed.
    ‘I’ve lost my Art!’ Flydd cried. ‘The one thing that has
sustained me all my life. I’m naked without it.’
    ‘That’s not what I meant.’ Nish was staring alternately at
Flydd, then Maelys. ‘My clearsight tells me that there’s more of you now, Xervish.’
    ‘That’s absurd. If I’ve passed my gift to her, there should
be less of me.’
    ‘Can you remember doing that?’
    ‘I can’t remember anything save the woman coming into me.
She had strange eyes – a reddish purple … now what does that remind me
of?’
    ‘Can you take your talent back from me?’ said Maelys.
    ‘Not without the Art … though there may be a way to use it
where it lies,’ said Flydd. ‘Look deeper, quick.’
    Nish put his hands on Maelys again, and shook his head. ‘I
can’t tell. My clearsight is too feeble.’
    ‘If only there were a way to strengthen it,’ said Maelys,
musing on what had been said. And how could there be more of Flydd when he’d lost his Art? That didn’t make sense.
    ‘If we could eat rock, we could chew our way to freedom!’
sneered Colm.
    ‘There is a way,’ said Nish, ignoring him, ‘though I’m not
sure I’ve got the courage to try it.’
    ‘I wouldn’t,’ said Flydd. ‘Your father won’t save you this time,
Nish.’
    Maelys didn’t know what they were talking about. ‘I’ll try
anything if it helps to save my family.’
    ‘Not this way,’ said Nish. ‘I won’t let you.’
    Flydd’s eyes were on Maelys. ‘I do believe she would, Nish.
She’s braver than any of us.’
    ‘Just tell me what to do,’ snapped Maelys.
    Thump . Something
struck the barrier from the outside and it cracked like an ancient bowl. Nish
was staring at it, his fists clenched rigidly at his sides and his jaw muscles
standing out. He turned to her, and something shone in his eyes. Admiration?
Surely not from Nish? Now he let out a long breath, but the fine hairs stirred
on the back of Maelys’s neck – what was he going to do?
    He eased himself into the deep shadows to the left of the
opening, crouched and pulled up great handfuls of dead moss