The cursed towers 216
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"No, no!" Johanna wept, pressing close to the old man, taking his delicate, clawlike hand and pulling on it
urgently. "Please, master!"
The children of the League of the Healing Hand all clustered close around him, begging him to come, all
sobbing. Even Anntoin and Dillon wept in grief and terror. The shouts and crashing of the Bright Soldiers
was so close now, they knew they would be within sight in just a few minutes. The old seer would not
move, though, gripping tightly to his staff with both hands.
"I have just one wish," he said gently. "Tomas, will ye touch me before ye leave me? Now that my time
has come, I find I long to see the world all clad in brightness again. It has been many years since I last
saw the sky."
"No, no," the little boy sobbed and buried his face against the seer's blue robe.
Jorge patted his head with one thin, trembling hand and said, "Grant me this, my laddiekin. It would give
me great pleasure to see all your faces, when your voices and hearts are so dear and familiar to me.
Please."
Choking with tears, Tomas slowly raised his wet face, peeled back the black gloves he wore and raised
his two small hands. Jorge bent his head and the little boy laid both hands on the old man's forehead, one
on either side. A rush of color flowed over the old man's ashen skin and the cloudy eyes cleared and
brightened. He straightened, a peaceful smile on his old mouth, and looked about him.
He gazed at the overarching trees, all clad in green, with catkins hanging or nuts swelling along the
branch. He looked up at the sky, a brilliant blue between the shifting canopy of leaves, then raised his
blue-veined, liver-spotted hands and gazed at them wonderingly. A bright-winged bird flashed past and
his smile widened in response.
Then he looked round at them all, smiling gently. They stared back, smiling through their tears and
clustering close about him. His gaze lingered on their faces and he put out a shaky hand to pat their
cheeks or shoulders.
"Ea bless ye all," he said, his eyes shining with tears. "Go now, my bairns, and keep yourselves safe, I
beg ye."
Tomas buried his head again, refusing to let go, but Johanna pried his fingers free. "Come, laddie, we
mun do as the master wishes. Come along, dearling."
They had to drag him for the first few steps, the little boy sobbing despairingly. Jorge stood calmly in the
middle of the clearing, no longer having to lean so heavily on his tall staff, looking around with simple
wonder at the butterflies dancing in the shadows, the birds flying sapphire-winged through the air. As they
plunged again into the undergrowth they all looked back at him with tear-stained cheeks and he gazed
after them and raised his hand, smiling.
Iseult lifted her head above the rocky outcrop and threw her reil with a flick of her wrist. It sailed in a
wide circle, cutting one soldier's throat as it passed, before embedding itself in the breast of another. He
fell with a clatter and the reil extricated itself and flew back to Iseult's hand. The soldier left standing
turned with an oath and started for them and Iseult threw her reil again.
Meghan glared angrily at an archer in the rocks above them and he suddenly cried aloud, his hands
clutching his breast, as he fell backward. Another aimed directly for the old witch but she caught his
