I finished, the ends of her dark hair touching her sharp cheekbones. “I understand your quest, Bard, and it is a worthy one. But why would I risk losing members of my band to join in your fight?”
“The Drakes seemed to think that you, of all other Quicks, would be the person to aid us.”
Sven’s eyes narrowed. “A band of wolf-priests attacked my village in the Middlelands three years ago. The leader killed my mother and three younger sisters and took me alive to join her pack, though I later escaped. The Drakes are no fools. They knew I would be tempted to avenge my family.” She paused. “I will think on this.”
I was silent for a moment and then looked over my shoulder at the tower, black against a midnight-blue sky. “I’m surprised you didn’t set up camp inside that ominous black column. Though I suppose you Quicks don’t like being confined.”
“I get restless when I can’t see the sky above me. We also haven’t yet figured out how to get in.” Sven shrugged small, hard shoulders. “You’ve been honest and open with us, and I will be honest in return. There is a rumor among us Quicks that this black tower contains a library—a library that holds several very rare books of magic. One of these books is the only known copy of Skinn Lykill. I’d like to get my hands on this tome. It’s why we are here.”
Ink lowered her hood and sat up straighter. She was shy with strangers and hadn’t spoken much, but this sparked her interest. “Skinn Lykill … is that a grimoire?”
One of the Quicks caught the storyteller’s gaze—he was lean and tall, with dark hair. He put his hand to his chest. “I’m Galath.”
Ink gave him a nod, and he continued.
“Skinn Lykill is Old Vorse for ‘skin key,’ which is another name for a hide-covered book of spells—though this book contains only one enchantment, rather than several.”
“And what kind of enchantment is it?” Ink leaned forward. She was intrigued, as was I.
“The book tells of the Rover King. He was abandoned as a Fremish boy in one of the Endless Forests—Skinn Lykill is the story of how he came to be raised by a band of Quicks.”
Cheers erupted at this, and Galath smiled as he waited patiently for the archers to quiet back down. “This is the story of how the Rover King studied sorcery with an itinerant magician, and how he studied thievery with a company of crooks. It’s the story of how he fought and slayed the Thing in the Deep to avenge his true love, and how he found the Eternal Cup, drank its contents, and became a god.”
“It’s said that only a true roamer can read Skinn Lykill.” Sven reached forward and plucked Madoc’s pipe from his lips. “May I have a smoke? It’s been many months since I’ve tasted Elsh brickle-leaf.”
“Take as much as you’d like.”
Sven flashed Madoc a wide smile and then began to puff on his pipe, thin plumes of smoke flowing through her lips. “It’s said that Skinn Lykill can be used to summon the Rover King and bring him to walk among us for the whole of one night, dusk to dawn.”
“Yes,” Teel whispered. The Glee Starr’s dark eyes were soft and shining in the firelight, her tattoo a vivid blue. “And I’ve heard that the Rover King will grant each Quick who walks beside him a bow made from a branch of the drasil ash.”
Galath nodded. “A bow from the Tree of Life, the Tree of the Gods—that would be something indeed. It’s said a drasil bow grants the archer immortality.”
Gyda eyed Sven for a moment, then leaned toward me and whispered in my ear.
When she finished, I turned to Sven du Lac. “If we help you get Skinn Lykill, will you help us kill Uther and her wolves?”
Sven tilted her head to the side, sharp green eyes on mine. “And how will you help me do this?”
“Gyda has agreed to try her druid magic on the tower.”
Gyda held up a hand, palm facing out. “I’m not a true druid—I left in the middle of my training. But I’ve grasped the fundamentals of prayer, and balance, and the drift of the nature languages—the speech of trees, earth, and sky.”
Sven didn’t answer for a few moments. She sat staring at the flames, smoking Madoc’s pipe. Finally, she rose to her feet and faced the Red Sparrows. “Well? Are you in, Sparrows?”
The Quicks grabbed