There was a long pause. I stood motionless until I realized the creature was waiting for a response. “Tell me more,” I said. My voice sounded terribly thin to my own ears.
“Why?” I thought I detected a playful note in the voice.
“Because I need to know,” I said, trying to force some strength back into my voice.
“Need?” Cthaeh asked skeptically. “Why this sudden need? The masters at the University might know the answers you’re looking for. But they wouldn’t tell you even if you did ask, which you won’t. You’re too proud for that. Too clever to ask for help. Too mindful of your reputation.”
I tried to speak, but my throat did nothing but make a dry clicking sound. I swallowed and tried again. “Please, I need to know. They killed my parents.”
“Are you going to try to kill the Chandrian?” The voice sounded fascinated, almost taken aback. “Track and kill them all yourself? My word, how will you manage it? Haliax has been alive five thousand years. Five thousand years and not one second’s sleep.
“Clever to go looking for the Amyr, I suppose. Even one proud as you can recognize the need for help. The Order might give it to you. Trouble is they’re as hard to find as the Seven themselves. Oh dear, oh dear. Whatever is a brave young boy to do?”
“Tell me!” I meant to shout it, but it came out pleading.
“It would be frustrating, I suppose,” the Cthaeh continued calmly. “The few people who believe in the Chandrian are too afraid to talk, and everyone else will just laugh at you for asking.” There was a dramatic sigh that seemed to come from several places in the foliage at once. “That’s the price you pay for civilization though.”
“What price?” I asked.
“Arrogance,” the Cthaeh said. “You assume you know everything. You laughed at faeries until you saw one. Small wonder all your civilized neighbors dismiss the Chandrian as well. You’d have to leave your precious corners far behind before you found someone who might take you seriously. You wouldn’t have a hope until you made it to the Stormwal.”
There was a pause, then another pair of purple wings went drifting to the ground. I swallowed against the dryness in my throat, trying to think of what question I could ask to get more information.
“Not many folk will take your search for the Amyr seriously, you realize,” the Cthaeh continued calmly. “The Maer, however, is quite the extraordinary man. He’s already come close to them, though he doesn’t realize it. Stick by the Maer and he will lead you to their door.”
The Cthaeh gave a thin, dry chuckle. “Blood, bracken, and bone, I wish you creatures had the wit to appreciate me. Whatever else you might forget, remember what I just said. Eventually you’ll get the joke. I guarantee. You’ll laugh when the time comes.”
“What can you tell me about the Chandrian?” I asked.
“Since you ask so sweetly, Cinder is the one you want. Remember him? White hair? Dark eyes? Did things to your mother, you know. Terrible. She held up well though. Laurian was always a trouper, if you’ll pardon the expression. Much better than your father, with all his begging and blubbering.”
My mind flashed pictures of things I had tried to forget for years. My mother, her hair wet with blood, her arms unnaturally twisted, broken at the wrist, the elbow. My father, his belly cut open, had left a trail of blood for twenty feet. He’d crawled to be closer to her. I tried to speak, but my mouth was dry. “Why?” I managed to croak.
“Why?” the Cthaeh echoed. “What a good question. I know so many whys. Why did they do such nasty things to your poor family? Why, because they wanted to, and because they could, and because they had a reason.
“Why did they leave you alive? Why, because they were sloppy, and because you were lucky, and because something scared them away.”
“What?” the Cthaeh asked. “Are you looking for a different why? Are you wondering why I tell you these things? What good comes of it? Maybe this Cinder did me a bad turn once. Maybe it amuses me to set a young pup like you snapping at his heels. Maybe the soft creaking of your tendons as you clench your fists is like a sweet symphony to me. Oh yes it is. And you can be sure.
“Why can’t you find this Cinder? Well, that’s an interesting why. You’d think a man with coal-black eyes would make an impression when he stops to buy a drink. How can it be that you haven’t managed to catch wind of him in all this time?”
I shook my head, trying to clear it of the smell of blood and burning hair.
The Cthaeh seemed to take it as a signal. “That’s right, I suppose you don’t need me to tell you what he looks like. You’ve seen him just a day or three ago.”
Realization thundered into me. The leader of the bandits. The graceful man in chain mail. Cinder. He was the one who had spoken to me when I was a child. The man with the terrible smile and the sword like winter ice.
“Pity he got away,” the Cthaeh continued. “Still, you must admit you’ve had quite a piece of luck. I’d say it was a twice-in-a-lifetime-opportunity meeting up with him again. Pity you wasted it. Don’t feel bad you didn’t recognize him. They have a lot of experience hiding those telltale signs. Not your fault at all. It’s been a long time. Years. Besides, you’ve been busy: currying favor, rolling around in the cushions with some piksie, sating your base desires.”
Three green butterflies twitched all at once. Their wings looked like leaves as they spun to the ground.
“Speaking of desires, what would your Denna think? My my. Imagine her, seeing you here. You and the piksie all tangled up, at it like rabbits. He beats her, you know. Her patron. Not all the time, but often. Sometimes in a temper, but mostly it’s a game to him. How far can he go before she cries? How far can he push before she tries to leave and he has to lure her back again? It’s nothing grotesque, mind you. No burns. Nothing that will leave a scar. Not yet.
“Two days ago he used his walking stick. That was new. Welts the size of your thumb under her clothes. Bruises down to the bone. She’s trembling on the floor with blood in her mouth and you know what she thinks before the black? You. She thinks of you. You thought of her too, I’m guessing. In between the swimming and strawberries and the rest.”
The Cthaeh made a sound like a sigh. “Poor girl, she’s tied to him so tight. Thinks that’s all she’s good for. Wouldn’t leave him even if you asked. Which you won’t. You, so careful. So scared of startling her away. And well you should be too. She’s a runner, that one. Now that she’s left Severen, how can you hope to find her?
“It is a shame you left without a word, you know. She was just beginning to trust you before that. Before you got angry. Before you ran off. Just like every other man in her life. Just like every other man. Lusting after her, full of sweet words, then just walking away. Leaving her alone. Good thing she’s used to it by now, isn’t it? Otherwise you might have hurt her. Otherwise you just might have broken that poor girl’s heart.”
It was all too much. I turned and ran, pelting madly back the way I had come. Back to the quiet twilight of Felurian’s clearing. Away. Away. Away.
And as I ran I could hear Cthaeh speaking behind me. Its dry, quiet voice followed me longer than I would have thought possible. “Come back. Come back. I’ve more to say. I’ve so much more to tell you, won’t you stay?”
It was hours before I came back to Felurian’s clearing. I’m not sure how I found my way. I only remember being surprised at the sight of her pavilion through the trees. The sight of it slowed the mad spinning of my thoughts until I could begin to think again.
I went to the pool and took a long, deep drink, splashing water on my face to clear my head and hide the signs of tears. After a moment or two of quiet reflection, I stood and walked to the pavilion. It was only then that I noticed a curious lack of butterflies. There were usually at least a handful flitting around, but now there were none.
Felurian was there, but the sight of her only unsettled me further. It was the only time I had ever seen her look less than perfectly beautiful. She lay among the cushions, drawn and weary. As if I had been gone for days instead of hours, and she had not eaten or slept all the while.
She lifted her head tiredly when she heard me approach. “it is done,” she said, but when she looked at me her eyes widened with surprise.
I looked down and saw that I was bramble-torn and bloody. I was spattered with mud and grass stained
