The Wildkin’s Curse (29 page)

‘I think I did see a ghost tonight,' Merry said, following along behind her.

‘Really?' She glanced back at him in surprise.

‘It was all rather strange and spooky. One minute she was there and the next moment she had just vanished.'

He told Liliana what he had seen and heard that night, as they reached the road and then made their slow, careful way down its steep zigzag to the forest.

To his relief, she did not question his story or his sanity, but said slowly, ‘But who could the ghost be? And why did she show you Aubin and the astronomer?'

‘I thought perhaps it was the ghost of Shoshanna. She looked a lot like Rozalina, only older and sadder.'

‘As fair as a flower, you mean?' Liliana said caustically. ‘The most beautiful girl in the world?'

‘She was very beautiful,' Merry admitted. ‘You can see why Prince Zander kept her locked up for so many years.'

Liliana's stride lengthened. ‘Come on,' she snapped. ‘If we don't get those last two feathers, dear sweet Rozalina will be “waiting for the hour” for the rest of her life!'

It was clear from the sarcastic intonation that she was quoting Merry's song back to him. He lagged behind, feeling sore around the heart. He did not often sing and play his own songs to people, afraid of their laughter or contempt, and it cut him to the quick to have Liliana so scornful of his admittedly feeble attempt.

In silence, they plodded through the forest. It was very dark, and they had to find their way around rocks and over logs and through brambles, with no other light but the faint glow of the moon gleaming through the canopy. The path led them at last to a clearing, where they carefully scattered the corn under some hazel bushes and set the trap, working more by feel than sight.

‘And now I guess we wait,' Liliana said, sitting back on her heels. ‘I wish we'd had the sense to bring some food.'

‘I did,' Merry said, and pulled open his pack to show her his spoils from the feast. There were two thick wedges of rabbit pie, cold ham, soft white bread, and apple turnovers sprinkled with sugar.

Liliana was silent for a moment, and then she laughed. ‘I should have known!'

They had a starlit picnic under the trees, and gradually the sense of cold distance between them faded away. In the darkness, Merry found the courage to say quietly, ‘Why did you call me a fool? I only meant . . . I was worried for you . . .'

There was a long moment of silence, and then Liliana said violently, ‘You thought I was upset because Zed has fallen in love with my cousin! You're not only a fool, Merry, but a blind fool.'

‘Why? What do you mean?' Merry was both hurt and furious.

For answer, Liliana leant forward and kissed him on the mouth. For a moment, it was only their mouths that touched, but in the next heartbeat they had swayed into each other's arms. Her mouth was unbearably sweet, the curve of her body unbearably beautiful. His hands were twining in her curls, cupping the delicate curve of her skull, tracing the arch of her back. She moved away only long enough to laugh and say his name, before again their mouths met. He pressed her close, saying ‘Lili, Lili . . . but I didn't know . . . I thought . . .'

‘How could you not know?' she whispered, her voice shaken with soft laughter.

He held her face in both hands, wishing he could see her eyes, kissing them instead. ‘But . . . when?' he demanded.

She laughed and whispered, ‘Always, always. Right from the start. Well, almost, anyway.'

‘Me too,' he whispered and bent his face to hers again.

Time passed in a sweet delirium. ‘I never thought . . .' Merry murmured, and later, ‘I love you, Liliana, I love you!'

‘I love you too,' she whispered back, and Merry thought it impossible that his body could contain his joy.

Somewhere a bird began to sing in exquisite cadences. Liliana stirred and drew away. ‘A nightingale,' she said.

They listened in silence, thinking of the trap laid only a few feet away, the corn scattered on the ground, the net suspended above. ‘It's almost dawn,' Merry whispered in surprise. ‘I can see the sky growing light.'

She turned to look at him. Slowly the shape of trees and leaf and frond rose from the darkness, and her face grew clearer. He wished he could somehow capture this moment forever, the nightingale singing in the silver dawn, the slender angle of her neck and shoulder, the dark tangle of her curls, and those grey eyes, for once filled with light and joy instead of storms and darkness. She bent her face and he rose to meet her, mouth to mouth in a kiss of unbearable sweetness.

The nightingale's song died away and for a moment there was silence. Then they heard a wild, anxious twittering. In an instant Liliana was on her feet, racing across the clearing. Merry was seconds behind her. A small brown bird was caught in their net, struggling and calling. Liliana knelt and gently freed it, cupping it in her hands.

Merry bent his head over it. ‘The bird of love,' he said, lifting his eyes to Liliana. She flushed and very carefully plucked one feather from its wing. The bird quivered in surprise, but then lay quietly. Merry could see its heart beating frantically against its breast. Liliana opened her hands and the bird sprang free, flying away into the trees. A few moments later, it began to sing again. Merry leant forward and kissed her.

‘I love you,' he whispered.

She laughed at him. ‘So I should think so, Merrik Bellringer!'

Merry kissed her, so dizzy with love and joy he was afraid he would lose his balance and keel right over. She was rather weak-kneed too, clinging to him with both hands.

‘We have the sixth feather,' she said. ‘I wish it was all over, and Rozalina was free, and we could just stay here in the forest. I dread going back to the palace.'

‘It won't be long,' Merry said. ‘There must be pelicans in the harbour. Let's go now, and get ourselves that last feather, and fix the cloak. We could be away from the palace by tonight.'

Liliana sighed. ‘All right.' Gently she ran one finger over the soft brown nightingale feather and then carefully she tucked it away in her pack. ‘Do you think Zed will marry Rozalina?'

Merry shrugged. ‘I've never seen him look like that before. He was completely smitten.'

‘Do you think he'll be king?'

Merry was silent, thinking of the future with a cold, shaky feeling in the pit of his stomach. ‘I don't know. Maybe.'

‘He is the next male in line for the throne. If he marries Rozalina, his claim will be very strong, stronger than anyone else's,' she argued.

Merry gave an involuntary snort of laughter. ‘I need to tell you . . . I hope you don't mind . . . it's really rather funny if you think about it . . .' Haltingly, as they slowly walked back through the forest towards the city, he told her the story of his father's birth, and how his grandmother had been Princess Druzilla, King Zabrak's own sister. All the time he kept a tight hold on Liliana's hand, feeling how it stiffened in his, and how she seemed to draw away from him.

‘So you're a starkin prince,' she said slowly. ‘The true crown prince. And your mother wants
you
to marry Rozalina.'

‘I don't want to,' he assured her.

‘But you could be king.'

‘I don't want to be king!'

‘Your mother is right. You have starkin, hearthkin and wildkin blood in you. You'd bring the three races together, and the land would be at peace.'

‘That is true of Zed too,' he pointed out.

‘He has no wildkin blood in him.'

‘But if he marries Rozalina, his children will.'

‘But your grandfather was one of the wildkin. I always wondered, I thought you saw too clearly for a hearthkin. The wildkin would find it much easier to accept an Erlking with wildkin blood in him.'

‘An Erlking?'

‘Rozalina is the Erlqueen. Anyone who marries her will be Erlking. The two royal families will be wedded into one. Your mother is right. It is the best way to bring peace.'

‘You sound as if you want me to marry Rozalina!' he cried.

She drew her cold hand out of his. ‘I wish you'd told me before.'

‘But it makes no difference, not to me anyway. I don't want to be king . . . Zed was always the one . . . I'm still the same old Merry . . .' He was finding it hard to speak, fighting against the look on her face.

‘You'd be a much better king than Zed. Clever and kind and wise . . .'

‘I don't want to be king! I only want you!'

Liliana bit her lip, and began to walk away very fast.

‘Lili, don't go! Where are you going? Please, don't be angry with me. I didn't tell you . . . well, I didn't tell you because I didn't think it mattered.'

She stopped and turned to look at him. ‘Of course it matters! Blood is blood, and duty is duty. I am Liliana Vendavala, daughter of Ladonna, daughter of Avannia, once Erlqueen of the Stormlinn, and I have sworn to find the Spear of Thunder and smite the throne of stars asunder. And you, Merrik, are heir to that throne of stars.'

M
ERRY WATCHED
L
ILIANA'S SLIM, UPRIGHT FIGURE
disappear back into the forest, and stood for a long moment, biting his lip, not knowing what to do. Then he drew a deep, uneven breath and went along the road to the city gate, where he had to pay one of his few remaining coins to the gatekeeper to open the gate. His pack and lute bag seemed heavier than ever, dragging on his shoulders.

People in the houses and shops were just beginning to stir, opening the shutters, shaking out quilts, or emptying the chamber-pots into the gutter. The warehouses and wharves were all dark and closed up. The water glimmered, and the sky was pale and translucent. Pelicans floated on the harbour. Merry sat on the end of a wharf and watched them, wondering how on earth he was ever going to get close enough to pluck a feather. Surely if he brought Liliana a pelican feather, she would look at him with joy again?

‘Can't catch a fish without a line,' a voice said behind him. Merry jumped as if stuck with a pin. He looked around and saw a boy in patched breeches and a coarse homespun shirt, a shapeless straw hat on his head. He had a fishing line over one shoulder, and a basket in one hand.

‘I don't want to catch a fish,' Merry said with an effort. ‘I want to catch a pelican.'

‘Good eating if you can get one,' the boy said appreciatively. ‘Hard to roast unless you've got a big oven. If you're lucky, it'll have a belly full of fish too. Keep you in food for a week.'

‘You've caught one before?' Merry began to pay attention.

‘Yep. Better not let the pelican lady catch you, though. She'll put a spell on you.'

‘Who's the pelican lady?'

‘You from out of town or what? Everyone knows the pelican lady. Crazy old biddy that lives out in a cave on the headland. She's trained the pelicans to bring her fish, and in return she looks after them and saves them when they're tangled in fishing line.'

That must be the Crafty that Briony told us about, the one that sends messages in the pelicans' pouches,
Merry thought. For a moment he stared at the headland looming over the city, but the very idea of searching for her seemed too hard. He felt exhausted. He looked back at the pelican floating only an arm's length away.

‘How do you catch a pelican?' Merry asked.

‘It's not easy,' the boy said. ‘And I wouldn't do it where anyone can see you. The fishermen around here like the pelicans, they always know where the fish are biting. And nobody wants to cross the pelican lady!'

‘So what do I do?'

‘Just wait until one of the pelicans swims in close, then jump off the wharf, throw one arm over its back and seize its beak with your hand. You've got to grab hold of its beak else it'll give you a nasty peck.'

Merry got rather unsteadily to his feet, thinking how very tired he was. He took off his hat and laid it on the wharf, then unbuckled his boots and dragged them off, leaning them against his lute bag.

‘You going to give it a go?' the boy asked, much entertained. ‘Right here?'

‘I haven't much time,' Merry said. ‘I need to catch a pelican now!'

The boy gave him an odd look, but sat down, dangling his legs over the edge of the wharf, with the air of someone settling in for a good show.

When Merry was wearing nothing but his long white shirt and his drawers, he stood, shivering in the chill morning air, watching the pelicans glide about on the water. Eventually one came near, and Merry jumped off the wharf, arms outstretched. He hit the water with an almighty splash, and felt the pelican slide from under his hand and launch itself into the air with a startled cry. Merry was left floundering in the icy water, coughing and spluttering, as the whole flock of pelicans took to the air with strong, wide wings.

On the wharf, the boy crowed with laughter. ‘Liah's eyes, that's the funniest thing I've seen all year!'

Merry dogpaddled to the end of the wharf and hauled himself into a rowing boat moored there, climbing from there to the jetty. Seeing the look on his face, the boy scrambled to his feet and held up both hands placatingly. ‘No need to get your knickers in a knot,' he said. ‘I told you it wasn't easy.'

Merry unclenched his hands with an effort, and gathered up his clothes, dragging them on over his wet, shivering flesh. With his boots tucked under his arm, and his pack and lute bag once more dragging at his shoulders, he stalked away from the wharf, following the pelicans as they flew to the north. The boy followed him, thinking it was all a very great joke.

Merry tried the same trick again from another jetty further along the harbour, and then again and then again. By this time, the boy following him was no longer laughing.

‘Here,' he said, thrusting a knob of hard bread and cheese into Merry's freezing wet hand. ‘You'll catch your death of cold in there. Are you really that hungry? Have this instead.'