The Witch Queen's Secret by Anna Elliott Page B

window and Jory was already up and gone. And Lady Isolde had been there, with bread and
cheese and mead, and wanting to hear the story Dera had been too
tired to tell the day before.
    So she’d started in on all that had
happened—meeting Glaw and his men and all the rest. And before
she’d got halfway through with the story, a rider had come running
in to say that Dinas Emrys was safe. Gwion and the other men had
held against Marche’s men. And King Madoc had arrived with his war
band in time to drive them back—and with enough losses that Lord
Marche wouldn’t soon return.
    Now Lady Isolde
pulled back from the hug and said, “But I don’t understand—this man
who rescued you. You said he went to join Gwion and the
others?”
    Dera nodded. “The last I saw of him, that’s
where he said he was headed. He said until King Madoc got here,
they’d have need of every fighting man in holding off Lord
Marche.”
    “ But who
was he?”
    “ I don’t
know, my lady.” Dera might have a guess—but she had to keep it to
herself, since before he’d left her, the man had made her prick her
finger and swear on her own life she’d not tell Lady Isolde
anything about him—not what he looked like, nor nothing else that
might give Lady Isolde a clue as to who he’d been.
    A sound from the garden outside the infirmary
made her look up. Not that the garden was much more than mud and
plants wrapped up in cloth sacking at this time of year. But when
Dera looked out the window, she saw Jory and Cade, covered in dirt,
the pair of them—and digging for worms, they must be, because Jory
was squealing and holding up a big, fat wriggling one.
    “ I’m
sorry.” Lady Isolde came to stand next to Dera at the window. “I
know you were worried about him meeting Cade. But Jory was asking
for you while you were gone—beginning to get frightened because you
weren’t here. And Cade came in, and—”
    “ That’s
all right.”
    Cade looked a bit pale under the smears of
mud, and he was leaning on a wooden walking stick. But he was
grinning.
    Beside Dera, Lady Isolde said, “You’ve made
up your mind about Cade, haven’t you.” She didn’t even say it like
it was a question.
    Dera watched Jory jump up and land with both
feet in a puddle of rainwater. “How’d you know?”
    “ Because
you’re much braver than I am—you always were.” Lady Isolde’s voice
sounded—not quite sad, but quieter than usual. But she put an arm
around Dera’s shoulders and hugged her sideways. “I’ll miss you—but
I’m so glad.”
    Jory had seen her in the window. He was
waving and shouting, “Mam! Mam!”
    Dera
waved to him. But then she turned back to Lady Isolde. “Do you … your powers. The Sight, you
called it. Do you have it back, now?”
    Lady Isolde looked away, down at her own
hands. “I don’t know.”
    “ You
don’t—”
    “ I don’t
know.” Lady Isolde’s mouth twisted a bit, and Dera saw her fingers
tighten together in a knot. She looked up. “I told you you were
braver than I am, Dera. I haven’t tried—I haven’t tried to See
anything. Not since that man Bevan … since he died.” She swallowed.
“I keep thinking … why wouldn’t the Sight come back before this? I
used to try to summon it—but it never came. Why now?”
    “ Maybe
you didn’t really need it before.”
    “ And I do
now?” Lady Isolde’s smile was a bit easier. Though the sadness
hadn’t left her eyes.
    Dera took a breath. “Your friend—the one you
were telling me about. The boy you knew growing up. Trystan.” Dera
thought Lady Isolde flinched just a little bit when she said the
name, but she kept going. “If you had the Sight back, maybe you
could See him. See what’s happened to him, I mean. Where he is
now.”
    Lady
Isolde just looked at her. But then, slowly, she nodded. “I
suppose. The Sight shows may be and has been and will be . And
sometimes all mixed together. But—”
    She stopped. Outside, Jory was still
shouting.