The cursed towers 226
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"Ye must eat this," the tree-shifter said.
Tomas looked at it, puzzled, then obediently he took it from her hand and began to eat the wilted petals.
He asked no questions nor showed any revulsion. For a moment he lay still, then hectic color washed
over him and he began to shudder, clasping his thin arms about his body. He cried out as if in pain and his
pupils dilated until his eyes were black, not blue. He cast one wild glance at Lilanthe then he rolled over,
kicking his legs, shaking his head uncontrollably, all his limbs twitching.
"Wha' is wrong? Wha' have ye done?" Johanna cried and sprang to hold him, her eyes accusing.
Lilanthe could not reply, watching Tomas's convulsions with horrified eyes. She heard Meghan come
hurrying, barking out orders and questions, then watched as they held Tomas down, putting a stick
between his teeth to prevent him biting off his tongue.
Meghan turned to Lilanthe and said harshly, "What did ye give him? I saw ye feed him something."
"It was a flower o' the Summer Tree. Cloudshadow gave it to me."
"Did she tell ye to feed it to Tomas?" Meghan snapped.
"No, it was the nisses," Lilanthe replied, terrified.
They turned and stared at the little faeries, hovering nearby. In the flickering light of the newly lit torches,
their triangular faces looked oddly malevolent. Johanna made the sign of Ea's blessing, beginning to
weep.
"He is o' Stargazer blood," Lilanthe cried. "Can ye no' feel it?"
Meghan turned sharply and stared at Tomas. He lay still, panting harshly. The old witch nodded.
"Happen ye are right," she answered.
After a long time of stillness and silence, the little boy sat up, his cheeks still crimson, his eyes unnaturally
bright. "Bring me the wounded," he said in a mere croak of a voice. No one moved and he cried, "Bring
me the wounded!"
The first person he touched was Lachlan but although all the Righ's wounds healed over till there was not
even a scar to mar his smooth, olive skin, he did not wake. "There is something more than mere physical
hurt." Tomas frowned, running his hands all over Lachlan's face and body. "He is bound down by black
threads o' hatred that I canna cut through. He struggles to be free but he canna escape. He has been
cursed, I think."
"Cursed?" Dide cried.
"Cursed and betrayed," Meghan whispered. "If I find out who has done such a thing, I shall cast a curse
the like o' which has never been seen in this land!"
"How can we break the curse?" Lilanthe cried, and Meghan shook her straggly white head.
"We canna," she replied. "If it is a curse o' any potency, only they who cast the curse can break it."
"Then we must find out who it was that cast it," Dide cried, seizing Lachlan's hand in his and kissing it.
"Och, master, who would do such a thing?"
"I wager if we ride on Arran we'll find our answer,"
