A Time of Blood (Of Blood and Bone #2) - John Gwynne Page 0,137

of entrances throughout Dun Seren that lead here. Corban planned for it. I have read in our secret histories that there are tunnels like this in the fortress where Corban grew up, Dun Carreg, far to the west. Maybe it reminded him of home.” She looked and smiled at him. “It is a way of escape, if Dun Seren ever fell to attack. Eventually it leads to the river, though we will not go anywhere near as far.”

The tunnel spilt into a chamber, torches burning, sending shadows dancing. The ceiling was too high for the torchlight to penetrate.

In the middle of the chamber was a stone pedestal, a wide table and a dozen timber chairs. Byrne strode up to the pedestal and placed her hand on a thick, leather-bound book. She blew dust from it.

“This book was handed down to us from Brina, one of the two people the Order was dedicated to. It was written by giants, thousands of years ago.”

“What’s in it?” Drem asked, his voice echoing around the chamber.

“History, to begin with. And then, the earth magic. There is much knowledge in here, and power.” Byrne stroked it.

“Why do you keep it down here?” Drem asked, gazing around the shadow-wreathed chamber.

“Because it is dangerous, and precious, and this is the safest place in Dun Seren. Down here rock walls are not the only guardian of this book.”

Drem looked around again, staring into the shadows.

“You are quite safe, while you are with me,” Byrne said at Drem’s searching looks. “The earth power is just a tool,” she continued, “like a sword, or a plough. It can be used to save life, or to take it. Used for great good, or for great evil.”

“Why are you telling me this, showing me this place?” Drem asked.

“Because sometimes it is better to see a thing than to hear about it, Drem ben Olin, my sister’s son. And because I see in you the potential for greatness. You do not crave power, or renown. You shun violence, and yet you will do what you must, for your friends, or to protect the innocent. One day, I would hope to bring you down here and teach you from this book.”

Drem stared between Byrne and the book, the leather cracked with age, the parchments within yellowed. He thought of his mam and da, of Gulla and Fritha, Sig and Keld and Cullen. The memory of Hildith falling into his arms in the Desolation just a few days ago, and how he had comforted her, telling her she was safe now.

But is she? Will she ever be? Not that she is defenceless, the tough old goat, but what is happening in this world, it is wrong, an injustice, and I am being offered a chance to help. To make a difference, or if not a difference, at least the chance to stand against it.

“Drem, will you stay with me, learn the art of Kill and Cure, and stand with us against the darkness?”

“I will,” Drem breathed, not a moment’s hesitation.

Byrne looked into his eyes and nodded.

“Then pledge it to me. Not the Oath. That is for another time, for your sword-brothers and sisters to hear, for you to declare to the world. But pledge to me, now, as kin, that you will stand with me, and fight the darkness until your last breath.”

“I swear it,” Drem whispered.

Byrne drew a knife from her belt and sliced it across her forearm. Blood welled. She offered the knife to Drem.

“Then seal it in blood,” she said.

He took the knife, looked at the bloodied blade, then pulled the sleeve of his woollen tunic up and cut a red line along his arm.

He offered his arm to Byrne and she grasped it in the warrior grip, blood on their forearms mingling.

When it was done, Byrne stepped away.

“We should go,” she said and returned to the tunnel that led back to her chamber.

Drem looked at his arm, a sense of weight upon him. He knew deep in his bones that he had committed to something for life, and it felt… good. He rolled down his sleeve, blood seeping into the linen, and followed Byrne. As he strode across the chamber he felt something above him, a turbulence in the air. He stopped and stared up, searching the shadows, but could see nothing, no sign of movement.

“What is it?” Byrne called back to him.

“I thought I felt something?” Drem said.

“There are strange draughts down here,” Byrne said, “from vents in the rock,