The cursed towers 291
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ornate flourish that took up a great length of the scroll. Asrohc had been sent by her mother to renew the
promises the queen of the dragons had made to Aedan MacCuinn at the signing of the First Pact of
Peace, more than four hundred years earlier. Then Tomas carried the huge roll of paper down into the
sewers so that Ceit Anna, the last of the nyx, could make her mark without needing to brave the light.
The palace was once again filled with music and dancing, the jongleurs and troubadours competing to see
who could draw the greatest crowd to listen to their songs and stories, watch their fire-eating, juggling,
acrobatics and stilt-walking, and dance to their reels and jigs. Dide was in his element, playing his guitar
as he walked among the throng. His eyes lit up when he saw Isabeau and Lilanthe sitting together under
the trees, deep in conversation, and he veered that way.
"My lady Isabeau," he said with a deep bow. "I see ye have returned from wherever it is that ye've been.
May I have this dance?"
Isabeau smiled up at him. "I do no' feel much like dancing, I'm afraid. I'm sure that Lilanthe would like to
dance though. I saw her feet tapping."
The jongleur dropped down on the grass beside her. "Now I come to think on it, I do no' feel much like
dancing either," he replied. "Will ye no' tell me where ye have been and why ye left like that? Three and a
half years without a word!"
"I'll leave ye two to talk," Lilanthe said, getting to her feet, color washing up over her cheeks. She had
seen the expression on Dide's face when Isabeau had walked into the meeting hall and she realized now
that he had eyes for no other. He nodded and waved his hand as she slipped off into the garden, the nisse
hovering above her.
Isabeau frowned at him. "Poor Lilanthe! Why are ye always so mean to her?"
"Mean? To Lilanthe? When am I ever mean to her?" he cried. "We're guid friends, I had thought, though
I have no' seen so much o' her in recent times. She spends most o' her time at the Tower o' Two Moons,
lecturing in the ways o' the forest faeries. Ye can guess how I feel about Theurgias! I'd rather be in a snug
tavern, singing and playing my guitar. But enough about me. Where in Ea's green bluid have ye been?"
She told him rather stiltedly some of what had happened during her years at the Cursed Towers. As she
neared the end of her narrative, there was a sudden cheeping sound and a round, feathery head emerged
from Isabeau's sleeve, regarding Dide with huge, golden eyes. He gave a startled exclamation.
"What in Ea's name is that?" he cried.
"This is Buba," Isabeau said, laughing. "I found her a few months ago, soon after Maya and Bronwen left.
She had fallen out o' her nest and was too young to fly. I splinted her broken wing and carried her round
with me while it healed, but even though she can fly well now, she will no' leave me. I think she thinks I'm
her mother."
"But what is it? It looks like an owl but it's no' much larger than a sparrow!"
"She's an elf owl. They are the smallest o' all the owls. There are quite a few o' them at the Cursed
Towers. They eat spiders and crickets—I had a horrible time trying to find food for her until she was auld
enough to hunt for herself!"
The little owl crept further out of Isabeau's sleeve. Only six inches long from her tufted head to her
feathery talons, she was almost a pure white in color with a few gray speckles on her wings. Her
enormous eyes were fixed unblinkingly on Dide's face.
