The Gathandrian Trilogy 01 - The Gifting

get away with the boy.
    Simon didn’t do it.
    Instead, he eased saliva around his mouth to take the dryness away and whispered into the dark, “Do it then, Thomas. I understand. I’m ready.”
    For another moment, nothing. He could feel the wild racing of his heart and the tension in his fingers. If Simon had been able to, and if this had been the time for it, the gap between his brave words and his real and absolute terror might have made him laugh. Then Thomas made a sound somewhere between a moan and a whimper, and spat at him. Simon tried not to flinch and instead let the slow globules drag their way down his face.
    Next to his throat, the knife moved and Simon’s eyes welled with hot tears. But Thomas didn’t kill him. Instead, he leaned forward so Simon could feel the warmth of his breath.
    “ I loved her ,” he said. “Can you even understand that? No, don’t talk. Don’t say a word.”
    The boy whimpered behind them, and Thomas spat a curse in the direction of the sound. The whimpering stopped at once.
    Then, slowly and with unexpected gentleness as if he was soothing a restless colt, the blacksmith took the knife, pierced Simon’s skin with it just below his left cheekbone and dragged it down across his cheek.
    It was the most agonising thing he had ever had to bear. More terrifying in intent even than the failed hanging of only days ago. It seemed to last a lifetime, but it couldn’t have been more than a few moments.
    When Thomas was done, he dropped the knife, which clattered onto the stone floor and stepped away. Simon could neither catch his breath properly nor control the shaking of his body.
    “There,” Thomas snarled. “You’ll not enchant anyone with your beauty again, Simon Hartstongue, no matter how much you use your mind to kill.”
    Simon slumped down to all fours. When he opened his mouth to speak, he could taste blood and the pain swooped in.
    “ Get out ,” Thomas shouted suddenly. “ Get out of here . And take the boy with you. I want no more of it .”
    Simon didn’t need telling again. Pulse roaring in his ears, he pulled himself to his feet as Thomas turned away. When he stretched out his hand to the corner of the room, his fingers met warm cloth. The boy. Simon grabbed him and held on.
    At the same time, a greater darkness filled the doorway, and the moon vanished.

    Isabella
    Now Gelahn is here. Now he will kill Hartstongue. Risking her brother’s confusion, Isabella cannot help smiling, but Johan is too caught up in what he sees to notice her delight.

    Johan
    Simon . Watch out.
    Johan yells out in his mind but isn’t sure that Simon can hear. The enemy stands in the entrance, barring escape for both Simon and the boy. How has he come so far and escaped detection? Or perhaps the enemy was already in the boy’s home and somehow Johan failed to notice it. Again, how?
    Abandoning the mind-defences he and Isabella held in place, Johan starts to run. Towards danger.

    Simon
    Already, Simon knew who was there—the mind-executioner. A flash of mind-fire exploded in his head and he fell backwards, rolling over, trying to protect his charge.
    Now you will die in truth.
    The words plunged through Simon’s flesh, lacerating the skin on his legs. Through the roar in his head, he sensed the mind-executioner take one step towards him, raising his cane upright. The final blow. It was over.
    Simon screamed as his executioner released the cane. It flew past his face, only a finger’s breadth away. Its wild humming filled the air. But it didn’t touch him and landed with a hissing at the edge of the hut. How had it missed?
    Gelahn cursed and lunged after the cane. Simon saw his chance and took it.
    “Come on ,” he said to the boy as they stumbled onto their feet again. “We must go.”
    At the entrance, he risked one last glance behind him. The mind-executioner was reaching for the cane, which sparked and hissed at him, avoiding his grasp. Thomas was slumped in the corner, weeping.
    No time for more. Outside, the air pulsated with fire. Red, gold and yellow-tongued flames poured out from the trees and along the path. Something Simon knew couldn’t be real, but the boy opened his mouth to scream. Simon could hear him in his head. A feral sound. An animal in pain.
    Si-mon.
    Yes! he cried in his mind, knowing it was Johan but not knowing whether he could hear any response . What do you think I’m doing? I’m here, I’m coming. As quickly as I can…
    Gripping the boy’s