with potential.’
‘It’s beautiful,’ she said. ‘Strange, but beautiful.’
They walked on down the row. In the next partition was a werken shaped like an enormous bear, its bulky head low to the ground. On its back was a tree trunk, sharpened to a point.
‘It took Tamlyn a while to give up on her plan to assault the Narhl directly,’ he explained. ‘It was thought we could carry battering rams, or even cauldrons full of boiling oil, but the logistics of it were a nightmare.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I put forward a few designs myself, but Tamlyn rejected them all.’
‘Does she make all of them?’ Wydrin paused in front of another stone creature, looking into its glowing green eyes.
‘She has a small team that assist her with the construction, but the designs are all hers. It is a gift, to be able to craft the Edeian so. I fear I do not have it.’ He shrugged, looking slightly bashful. ‘When I was younger I thought that if I studied hard enough I would eventually be able to use the Edeian in the rock the way she does. My sister has more of an understanding.’
‘I had a friend who could do that,’ said Wydrin suddenly, thinking of Holley’s careworn face and her callused fingers. When Bors raised his eyebrows she continued. ‘She made magical glass, from the Edeian in the ground. The glass could show you secrets, and other things.’ Unbidden she remembered the Children of the Fog, dancing towards her with their identical grins, bathed in blue light.
‘She would have been a crafter, like Tamlyn, then. There are some people who can feel the Edeian better than others, and can shape it. Here, though, is one of Tamlyn’s very few mistakes.’
They had stopped in front of the last chamber on the left-hand side. Inside it was a much smaller werken, wolf-shaped and about the size of a pony. Its long, lupine head was bowed to the ground, its snout brushing the floor. Green eyes glared balefully in the shadows. Around each leg were thick iron cuffs, each chained to the stone wall. Carvings swirled along its long flanks in a series of waves.
‘What’s wrong with it?’ Wydrin knelt in front of it and slid a hand over its smooth snout. It was cold to the touch.
‘Even Tamlyn isn’t sure, but it moves without a rider. Not all the time, but every now and then it will shudder, jerk around. It does not stand and wait silently like the rest of the werkens.’ He shrugged. ‘A flaw in the Edeian, perhaps, something not quite right in the design. It is unlikely it will ever be joined to a rider now, though, even when these few we have left have been assigned. Eventually, we will break it down into its component pieces again so that it can be used for something else.’
‘Is it dangerous?’
‘Not as such, although you do not want one of these blundering about unsupervised.’ He grinned at her. ‘You wouldn’t believe how many broken feet we have to deal with, and that’s just from riders in training. No, not dangerous as such, just useless.’
Wydrin straightened up. ‘Give him to me, then.’
Bors looked at her. ‘What?’
‘If he’s useless, and he’ll never be part of your war-werken army, then give him to me.’
Bors shook his head, although more in confusion than denial. ‘No one outside of Skaldshollow has ever been joined. And even in pieces, it is valuable.’
‘Then consider it my payment for this job.’ She smiled at him and laid a hand on his arm. ‘I have some sympathy for broken outsiders, and I want to ride a werken. It seems a shame to leave him here, chained up in the dark.’
Bors sighed, but she kept her hand on his arm and she could see him considering it.
‘I’ll talk to my aunt in the morning,’ he said eventually. ‘But I doubt she will be happy about this.’
8
At first Sebastian brushed it off as exhaustion, or his body’s own adjustments to the thinner air, but the further out of Skaldshollow they travelled, the more uneasy he felt.
He and Frith
‘It’s beautiful,’ she said. ‘Strange, but beautiful.’
They walked on down the row. In the next partition was a werken shaped like an enormous bear, its bulky head low to the ground. On its back was a tree trunk, sharpened to a point.
‘It took Tamlyn a while to give up on her plan to assault the Narhl directly,’ he explained. ‘It was thought we could carry battering rams, or even cauldrons full of boiling oil, but the logistics of it were a nightmare.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I put forward a few designs myself, but Tamlyn rejected them all.’
‘Does she make all of them?’ Wydrin paused in front of another stone creature, looking into its glowing green eyes.
‘She has a small team that assist her with the construction, but the designs are all hers. It is a gift, to be able to craft the Edeian so. I fear I do not have it.’ He shrugged, looking slightly bashful. ‘When I was younger I thought that if I studied hard enough I would eventually be able to use the Edeian in the rock the way she does. My sister has more of an understanding.’
‘I had a friend who could do that,’ said Wydrin suddenly, thinking of Holley’s careworn face and her callused fingers. When Bors raised his eyebrows she continued. ‘She made magical glass, from the Edeian in the ground. The glass could show you secrets, and other things.’ Unbidden she remembered the Children of the Fog, dancing towards her with their identical grins, bathed in blue light.
‘She would have been a crafter, like Tamlyn, then. There are some people who can feel the Edeian better than others, and can shape it. Here, though, is one of Tamlyn’s very few mistakes.’
They had stopped in front of the last chamber on the left-hand side. Inside it was a much smaller werken, wolf-shaped and about the size of a pony. Its long, lupine head was bowed to the ground, its snout brushing the floor. Green eyes glared balefully in the shadows. Around each leg were thick iron cuffs, each chained to the stone wall. Carvings swirled along its long flanks in a series of waves.
‘What’s wrong with it?’ Wydrin knelt in front of it and slid a hand over its smooth snout. It was cold to the touch.
‘Even Tamlyn isn’t sure, but it moves without a rider. Not all the time, but every now and then it will shudder, jerk around. It does not stand and wait silently like the rest of the werkens.’ He shrugged. ‘A flaw in the Edeian, perhaps, something not quite right in the design. It is unlikely it will ever be joined to a rider now, though, even when these few we have left have been assigned. Eventually, we will break it down into its component pieces again so that it can be used for something else.’
‘Is it dangerous?’
‘Not as such, although you do not want one of these blundering about unsupervised.’ He grinned at her. ‘You wouldn’t believe how many broken feet we have to deal with, and that’s just from riders in training. No, not dangerous as such, just useless.’
Wydrin straightened up. ‘Give him to me, then.’
Bors looked at her. ‘What?’
‘If he’s useless, and he’ll never be part of your war-werken army, then give him to me.’
Bors shook his head, although more in confusion than denial. ‘No one outside of Skaldshollow has ever been joined. And even in pieces, it is valuable.’
‘Then consider it my payment for this job.’ She smiled at him and laid a hand on his arm. ‘I have some sympathy for broken outsiders, and I want to ride a werken. It seems a shame to leave him here, chained up in the dark.’
Bors sighed, but she kept her hand on his arm and she could see him considering it.
‘I’ll talk to my aunt in the morning,’ he said eventually. ‘But I doubt she will be happy about this.’
8
At first Sebastian brushed it off as exhaustion, or his body’s own adjustments to the thinner air, but the further out of Skaldshollow they travelled, the more uneasy he felt.
He and Frith
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