Ethelwyn meets a memory on the stairs

The newest part of the Duke’s castle was the broad southeastern tower, only completed in the year following his wedding. It was massive enough to have been counted a keep even if it had stood alone, but as an appendage to the rest of the castle, the upper stories could be spared for chambers for guests.

It was in this tower that Ethelwyn was sleeping during the “birthday season”, as Lady Gwynn called it—namely the twelve days between the birthdays of the Princess and the Crown Prince, which also included the birthdays of Lady Gwynn herself, as well as the Earl, and Sir Brede’s and Sir Sigefrith’s sets of twins.

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Malcolm scents a wolf

Sir Malcolm’s unease had swelled to the point that he very nearly stumbled into his house after yanking open the door. He did not know what he had expected to see, but his surprise at finding everything in order left him stunned for a moment.

Outside the birds continued chirping their desultory afternoon gossip, and from the depths of the kitchen he could hear Mother Curran chopping vegetables for their supper.

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Lady Gwynn talks with a big girl

Lady Gwynn was officially twelve, and though she liked to think she was a big girl now, she had to admit herself something lacking. For evidence she had only to look at Cat’s pre-​party primping before the mirror. Her dress floated, her hair bounced, and her graceful arm left a trail of perfume as it passed through the air. Cat was a true big girl of the most fascinating variety.

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Brinstan and Britamund escape

He could see no one in the garden, but Brinstan knew that his Princess could not be far. Someone appeared to have raided the box of candle stubs, and now there were two dozen little flames or more scattered among the flowers on the overgrown path, some of them already drowning in their pools of wax.

Brinstan tried to pick his way between them, but it was an awkward task with his big feet and with his legs that grew so quickly they never had the chance to learn grace.

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Vash confides

Tashnu sat himself up, wearily. “Come in, Vash,” he called softly. “I’m in here.”

Vash! On this night!

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Ethelwyn sees a summer fire

Late one golden August afternoon, shortly after Lammas, Mouse answered a knock at her door. It was neither Durwyn, nor Snell, nor any of the other hands; not her sister, nor one of the local gossips, nor even one of her brother’s friends. It was the last person she was expecting, and the one person she most longed to see.

The raking light brought out the faint sheen of sweat on his cheek, and she thought he must have wiped his face after the climb and then hesitated before the door long enough to have begun sweating again. Indeed, he had been there long enough that the wind on the hill had flattened his curls eastward and northeastward, just as it had done with the tall grass of the meadow behind him.

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Vash is told he was betrayed

Vash sat and sang, as close to the fire as his body could bear, alone. He did not believe the Dark Lady would come, but he was beginning to look forward to the nights of the new moon as he had looked forward to the full moons when he was a boy.

The Bright Lady was wrong—he did not believe that he alone suffered. Too many of the elves he loved had lost elves they loved, and the future of all of them was a bleak unknown. His entire race suffered, and Vash the son of the Khor suffered for them now because one day they would be his.

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Gunnilda gives her blessing

“Oh, Bertie!” Gunnilda breathed when her eldest son stepped back into the room.

She had planned to ration her tears over the next few days so that she would not look like a blubbering fool, but she had to allow herself a few now. Even Bertie appeared moved.

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Dantalion tells three things

“This had better be worth it!” Myrddin snapped. “I sleep in a dormitory, you know. I had to put the brothers to sleep.”

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Vash finds a stone

Frost lifted her snout and looked up at Vash. He walked with his head down, but his brow was low over his eyes and his lips moved as though he was speaking silent words to himself. He did not appear to be an elf intent on his path. He—merely an elf—certainly could not have been following a scent.

Frost whined deep in her throat. It was here that the girl had crossed the brook, and beyond this point, she thought, her scent would surely be on the path.

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