Flamecaster by Cinda Williams Chima Page A

suffering and misery, so much loss. It’s the worst thing in the world, to risk yourself by loving someone. At the same time, it’s the best thing in the world—and worth the risk. I don’t know your mother and sister—but I know you, and I’d wager that they want you back.” That was as close to a compliment as he’d ever get from Taliesin.
    â€œI have to go to Oden’s Ford,” Adrian said. “The . . . the last thing my da said to me . . . he gave me his amulet and he said, ‘I want you to go to Oden’s Ford and learn how to use it.’ But there’s no way my mother would let me go now, after what’s happened. It was bad enough after Hana.”
    â€œTell the queen what your father said. I’m sure she’ll want to honor that. If not this year, you can come to Spiritas next year. I’ll hold a place for you.”
    â€œYou don’t understand,” Adrian whispered, his voice catching. “It’s not just that.”
    Taliesin gripped his hands, leaning in toward him. “Tell me what I don’t understand.”
    â€œI can’t go back. I—I just can’t go back, and have to tell my mother and sister how he died. They deserve to know, but—I don’t want to have to see their faces, and know that I should have done something to prevent it. I can’t go anywhere in Fellsmarch without noticing the big hole he left behind. Every time I turn a corner, I’ll remember something he said, or did, or a story he told. He was like the beating heart of the city, and the king of Arden put a blade right through it. And people will look at me, and know I’m the one responsible.”
    â€œDo you really think they’ll blame you, Mageling?”
    â€œWhy shouldn’t they? I blame myself. I’ll think they’re looking at me that way, and every time, I’ll die a little bit. I’d rather just get it over with.” He was shaking again, whether from grief, or fever, or what, he didn’t know.
    â€œHave some more tea,” Taliesin said softly. “It’s not a cure for a broken heart, but it does take the edge off.”
    This time, Adrian drank deeply. “I’m not looking for sympathy. I’m not even looking for you to agree with me. I just want a way out. I just want the pain to stop. If I can’tcome with you, I’ll find a way to end this on my own.” His gaze met hers, and his fingers found the shape of the packet of gedden weed in his breeches pocket.
    Adrian could tell that Taliesin understood his meaning immediately, and believed him. She always took him seriously, always treated him like a grown-up even when he didn’t deserve it. It was one of the things he liked about her.
    â€œWhat if you know something that might help to catch the killers?” she said. “Do you want that knowledge to die with you?”
    That was like a punch to the gut. What if?
    â€œWhat if you might be able to prevent another murder?”
    Or at least avenge the ones that have already happened.
    That idea, once kindled, was hard to put out. Once at Oden’s Ford, he’d be closer to the enemy. And yet—that would mean there would be no escape from the pain anytime soon.
    He tried to think back, to recall if he’d seen or heard anything that might help. But it was like the memory was walled off, too painful to poke at. He reached up and fingered the knot on his head. Had someone hit him over the head? Or had he fallen? Maybe both? He looked down at his hands, picked at his scabbed palms.
    She sighed. “About Oden’s Ford. School is hard work under the best of circumstances. I want you to have the best chance to succeed. I need you to succeed, if I’m goingto persuade the deans at Mystwerk to cooperate with me.”
    â€œI will work hard,” Adrian said. “I won’t disappoint you.”
    For a long moment, Taliesin studied him. “Do