Read Online Song Magick by Elisabeth Hamill - Free Book Online Page A

continued to court her throughout the year.
    Moving back from the dizzying thirty-foot
drop, Telyn turned and went inside. She doubted that Mithrais knew
the significance of his innocent act, but she had allowed herself a
foolish moment of fancy, caught up in the excitement of the
day.
    As a true bard, Telyn had more liberty than
other young women, but Taliesin had discouraged her from forming
any romantic attachments during her training. She had put aside her
loneliness in the pursuit of her art, which was the source of her
freedom, and the desire to earn the approval of the powerful and
intimidating Taliesin.
    Then, the violent assault in Belthil had left
her confidence as bruised as her flesh, and had caused her to shy
away from any hint of physical intimacy since leaving court-–until
today. Her attraction to Mithrais was so strong that Telyn found it
unsettling. Something about him called to her blood, and the
sharing of Mithrais’ mind had both aroused and alarmed Telyn with
its intensity. That his response to her had been the same was
thrilling and a little disconcerting—perhaps, because she was
unafraid. Her longing for that closeness was dangerously near the
surface, and with a chill, Telyn thought of the last May Eve night
in Belthil. She could not afford to be so distracted.
    Telyn pushed away those thoughts and slipped
back through the curtain, pausing with hands on hips to stare
balefully at the white gown that hung on the back of the door.
    Tradition called for a true bard to lead the
spring rites when one was present at a celebration, but most bards
happened to be male. Young women vied for the honor to portray the
Maiden if they knew the bard to be handsome, for the ceremony ended
in a kiss. Emrys Harpmaster had in the past been the subject of
many such competitions in Rothvori. Whomever he had paired her
with, Telyn was determined that the kiss would be no more than
ceremonial.
    She shook her head in resigned annoyance,
removing her shoes and tugging at the laces of her bright jerkin
before turning to the waiting basin of water.
    She had just slipped the white gown over her
head and smoothed the drifts of silk and velvet—frowning again,
wondering how she would be able to wear her dagger—when there was a
knock on the door. Telyn jumped in spite of her confidence in the
security of Riordan’s keep.
    “Yes?” she called tersely.
    “I was sent to assist you, Lady Bard,” a
female voice informed her. Telyn groaned softly. In the moment
after Rand had escorted her to her room, when she was thinking of
nothing but sleep, she had absently agreed to his offer of a maid
to dress her hair for the feast. She opened the door reluctantly to
allow the woman to enter.
    Telyn considered the combs, pins, and potions
of the hairdresser’s trade to be nothing short of instruments of
torture, and sure enough, the maid had a basket full of them. She
forced herself to smile pleasantly, and sat in the small chair
before the dressing table.
    A remarkably short time later compared to
Telyn’s previous engagements with the weapons of beauty, the woman
made a small noise of satisfaction and held up a silvered glass for
Telyn to approve her handiwork.
    Telyn looked critically at her reflection,
wondering what Mithrais would see. Her hair was light brown, and
had a honey-colored sheen to it that gave it a warm glow in the
candlelight. Her cheekbones were high and her mouth full and
well-shaped, but her tawny hazel eyes had shadows beneath them, and
a line of tension seemed to have taken up permanent residence
between her eyebrows. She traced the darker hollows with her
fingertips and gave a small sigh.
    The maid noticed her wistful expression, and
said softly, “My lady, I do have something that will help with that
if you wish.”
    Telyn considered the ramifications of
succumbing to vanity carefully, studying her reflection a moment
more before nodding.
    “Yes, please. I need all the help you can
offer.”
    * * *