Brightly Woven

I couldn’t banish North’s tortured face from my mind’s eye.
    “I’m going to Provincia,” I told them.
    “Out of the question,” Pascal said firmly. “It’s not safe for you to travel alone, especially now with all the men and wizards heading in and out of the capital. Prima Road is dangerous enough without the extra crowds.”
    “I can take care of myself,” I said. “North isn’t in any condition to travel. If you’re concerned, then you can come with me—if we go by horseback, we should be there just in time.”
    “Wayland said Owain’s gone ahead,” Pascal countered. “He can bring the information to the Sorceress Imperial.”
    “Do you honestly believe they’ll take his word for it?” I asked. “North has proof; it’s in his notebook. If I can get that into the right person’s hands, it’ll be far more effective.”
    “You can drop that mad idea right now,” he said. “I won’t leave Wayland’s side until he’s healed, and as for you going out, without any kind of protection—”
    “Then give me a sword!”
    I was shaking with anger now. To have come all of this way only to have North nearly die because of my own stupidity—I had to do something. All I could see in mymind was Cliffton burning, crumbling, North falling under Dorwan’s magic. Everything was coming down around me, and I was powerless.
    “Pascal,” I begged. “Please.”
    “Don’t ask me again,” he said in a rough voice. “You’ll go when Wayland is up to it.”
    With that, he pushed past me and forced open the door. He didn’t say another word, but I heard the door shut behind me.
    I stood, barely able to contain myself. How could he not understand that we didn’t have time to waste? Lady Aphra hadn’t said a word during the argument, but now she placed a hand on my shoulder.
    “Are you willing to be brave?” she asked me in a low voice.
    “Of course,” I said. “Anything.”
    She smiled. “I was hoping that would be your answer.”

    The next morning I was intently studying the little map of Palmarta inside the cover of Proper Instruction for Young Wizards when North let out a groan, his eyes blinking open. Pascal had gone out, sent by Lady Aphra to help the men of the village clear the remaining snow. The old man had gone out grumbling but finally gave up his position by North’s side.
    “Syd,” North said. His voice was so weak I had to lean down to hear him. “Where…am I?”
    “Arcadia,” I said. “Pascal and some of the boys carried you back up.”
    He nodded and swallowed hard.
    “Why did you go back?” I asked. “What were you thinking?”
    “Wanted to kill him…too dangerous,” he said, rubbing his face. “He was gone by the time I got back, but I couldn’t twist all the way to Arcadia…. Pretty embarrassing, huh?”
    I let out a weak laugh, and he tried to smile.
    “Not at all,” I said. “Can I get you something?”
    “Water?” he asked. I poured out a glass, and he drank it down greedily, wincing as he pulled his stitches.
    “My head feels…like it’s going to split…in two,” he said, falling back against the bed. He shut his eyes.
    “Why didn’t you want an elixir or a sleeping draft?” I asked, resting my hand lightly against his. “I had to force it on you.”
    North shook his head. He looked so slight on the bed. The dark circles beneath his eyes stood out plainly on his ashen skin. “I’m so sick of it…. I can’t even stand the taste of honey. It’s been a while since the pain was this real.”
    “North…,” I began. “You don’t have to keep this from me, not anymore.”
    “It’s an ugly, dark part of me, and…” His voice was bitter. “You have no idea how disgusting it is…how shameful…”
    “No part of you is dark or ugly,” I said sharply, squeezing his hand. “Not to me, not ever. Do you understand?”
    North turned his head away from me, toward the faint light from the window. “I inherited the curse from my father, and he from his father before him,” he said. “Do you remember…what I told you about the hedges?”
    I nodded. “But I thought they were at the outskirts of towns, in the wilderness?”
    “My grandfather was a Wizard Guard.” He paused. “The king sent him to disband a hedge coven outside of Andover. Most of the wizard knights he brought with him were killed…”
    “But not him,” I finished.
    “No, not him. They held him hostage for over a fortnight, and when he finally escaped, it was