and some part of him wanted to call her back, but he couldn’t seem to do anything other than lie on his back and mumble. He fell asleep a short while later. Half-formed dreams kept flicking in and out of his mind, and he couldn’t stop sweating. He woke up again a while later—not sure if he’d slept at all—and tried to sit up. Instantly the hammock tipped over sideways, dumping him onto the floor. He lay there for a while, groaning. His head was still spinning, and his chest hurt so badly it felt as if Shoa’s talons were still embedded in the flesh.
He managed to gather his arms beneath him and climbed laboriously to his feet, wincing. He staggered a little and nearly fell over again, but managed to reach the chair and sit down in it. It was midnight, and bright moonlight was shining in through the back windows. It fell over the table, turning it silvery grey. It also shone on the bowl he had left there. He stared at it blankly, trying to remember why it was there. Oh, yes.
He removed the cloth and put it aside. The water gleamed. The bowl was made of copper, but in the moonlight it looked like gold.
Arren stood up, steadying himself on the table, and shoved the chair out of the way. He stared down into the still water, watching the light play over its surface, and tried to think.
He spread his hand over the water and moved it in a gentle circling motion, counting under his breath. “One, two, three, four . . .”
When he reached thirteen, he held his hand just above the water, fingers spread, and started to chant softly.
Plentyn yn tyfu’n ddyn,
Gorffennol ddaw’n bresennol,
Rhaid i amser fynd rhagddo
Arglwydd tywyll y nos, gweddïaf
Cwyn len y nos, rho i mi ond trem
Yn y nen, tair lleuad lawn ar ddeg,
Pob un yn fywyd blwyddyn,
Llygad y nos, agor led y pen,
Dangos fy njynged i mi.
He repeated the words several times, staring intently at the water until it became still.
Nothing happened. He withdrew his hand without taking his eyes away from the water, and continued to watch it as closely as he could, barely even blinking. Waiting.
After a while, the lingering effects of the wine mingled with his exhaustion made his vision start to waver. He was swaying slightly where he stood, though he didn’t realise it, and as a cloud covered the moon and its light faded, he started to see things.
Shapes moved on the surface of the water. They were grey and very faint, but he leant closer, squinting at them, trying to make them form into something.
Two shapes. One light, one dark. Griffins, that was it. Two griffins, fighting. One white, one black. Eluna and the black griffin, locked together. Then the white shape faded away, leaving only the black griffin, which wandered away over the water, alone.
And then . . .
Visions flashed across his brain. He saw a line of people clad in black robes, each one carrying a heavy burden and wearing a shining collar. He saw Eluna lying in the muddy field, her eyes looking into his as she died. He saw Rannagon looking at him, his old face sad as he said something indistinct. And then the black griffin was there, rushing at him, wings spread wide, beak open to scream. Its talons hit him in the chest, and he was falling, down and down . . .
He didn’t feel himself hit the floor. The visions vanished abruptly, but as darkness closed over him he saw one last thing. He saw himself, lying on dark ground beneath a silvery moon. His eyes were open . . . but they were blank and empty.
13
Cursed One
Flell went to visit Arren the next day, as promised, late in the morning. This time when she knocked on the door, he opened it.
“Good morning,” Flell said awkwardly.
Arren looked at her for a moment and then stood aside, gesturing at her to come in.
The inside of the house looked a lot better now; the back windows and door were open, and sunlight was shining in, though Arren winced when it touched his face.
“Sit down,” he mumbled. “I’ll just—I’ll be back in a bit.”
He retreated into the stable and returned carrying an empty crate, which he put down next to the table and sat on. Flell noticed that, though he wasn’t lurching now, he moved with a slight limp.