Silvermay by James Moloney Page A

with the rest of the village until the sight made me too angry to stay any longer. As I reached our door, I glanced down the lane and saw something that didn’t just make me angry, it scared me more than anything I had ever seen. The Wyrdborn who’d come so close to killing Delit Sweetmead was prowling among the houses. And he’d found Hespa.
    Even from this distance I could hear her giggling at the things he said. The easy stance of her lithe figure showed she was charmed by him or by his magic, at least. That was something else I’d learnt from stories about the Wyrdborn. They weren’t content to win a girl’s heart like commonfolk. They used enchantments to create instant infatuation.
    â€˜What is it, Silvermay, what have you seen?’ called Birdie, coming quickly to the door. Her face went white in an instant.
    â€˜We can’t let him take her,’ I whispered.
    â€˜And he won’t,’ she said, setting off towards Hespa and the Wyrdborn.
    She hadn’t managed three steps of this brave march before a hand took tight hold of her shoulder. We both turned to see Tamlyn had come out through the doorway.
    â€˜Stay here, Birdie,’ he said, easing his grip. ‘And you, too, Silvermay.’
    Then he was gone so quickly there was no time to argue, no time to warn him, although he surely knew how dangerous the Wyrdborn could be. That made his action even more foolhardy. He advanced on the pair with long, determined strides, and this only doubled my fear because he looked so much like a brother come to rescue his sister, or, worse still, a jealous lover who wanted to chase off a rival. It was exactly the kind of confrontation the Wyrdborn relished.
    Before Birdie could stop me, I went closer. She hissed and seethed but I wouldn’t turn around and so she followed me. My head-start meant I had almost reached the three figures at the end of the lane before she caught me. There, with a clear view of their faces and our ears close enough to hear, we stopped and waited and hoped.
    To my surprise, Hespa was no longer smiling and playing the girlish flirt. In fact, she was frowning unhappily under the Wyrdborn’s heavy gaze, and when he reached out to touch her elbow she flinched in revulsion.
    â€˜My lord, Hespa is happy living here with her family, who would miss her terribly if you take her away,’ said Tamlyn in a sonorous voice that sounded reasonable rather than challenging. ‘She’s better off here instead of going with you to the religo’s castle.’
    Spoken gently or not, this was defiance of the Wyrdborn. Tamlyn would pay a terrible price. Yet I could see the man’s face as clearly as Hespa’s and there was none of the rage I expected. He looked more confused than angry.
    â€˜But think of the luxuries I offer you, girl. And you won’t starve through the winter, either.’
    â€˜Hespa wants to stay here,’ Tamlyn repeated.
    The Wyrdborn rounded on him. ‘Quiet, you, or I’ll have the tongue out of your mouth,’ and he snatched a dagger from his belt as though he would do it anyway, out of spite.
    There was no step backward as anyone else would have done. No sign of fear. Tamlyn held the man’s gaze, remaining silent, as commanded, but unmoved by the vicious threat.
    The Wyrdborn calmed a little, much to my own relief. ‘I’ll ask you again, girl, and this time you must answer for yourself.’
    He paused and, though magic works silently and without any visible signs, I could sense the enchantment he pressed on her. Her eyes brightened, there was a hint of the silly smile I’d glimpsed earlier.
    â€˜Will you come with me when the wagons are ready?’ he asked.
    Hespa’s future lay in a single word. I could barely watch. Then, as quickly as the signs had appeared, they vanished. Hespa’s face hardened and she began to tremble. ‘No, sir. I want to stay here.’
    That wasn’t