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The Well of Tears: Book Two of The Crowthistle Chronicles
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The
WELL
of Tears
Also by Cecilia Dart-Thornton
THE BITTERBYNDE TRILOGY
Book 1: The Ill-Made Mute
Book 2: The Lady of the Sorrows
Book 3: The Battle of Evernight
THE CROWTHISTLE CHRONICLES
Book 1: The Iron Tree (2005)
Book 2: The Well of Tears (2006)
Book 3: Weatherwitch (2006)
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are either fictitious or are used fictitiously.
THE WELL OF TEARS: BOOK TWO OF THE CROWTHISTLE CHRONICLES
Copyright © 2005 by Cecilia Dart-Thornton
Originally published in 2005 by Tor Australia, an imprint of Pan Macmillan Australia Pty Limited.
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.
This book is printed on acid-free paper.
Map and Crowthistle logo by Elizabeth Alger
Edited by Claire Eddy
A Tor Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
175 Fifth Avenue
New York, NY 10010
www.tor.com
Tor® is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Dart-Thornton, Cecilia.
The well of tears / Cecilia Dart-Thornton.—1st ed.
p. cm.
“A Tom Doherty Associates book.”
ISBN 0-765-31206-9 (acid-free paper)
EAN 978-0-765-31206-81.
I. Orphans—Fiction. I. Title.
PR9619.3.D253W45 2006
823′.92—dc22
2005016723
First Edition: February 2006
Printed in the United States of America
0 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Dedicated to Marisa,
for being courageous, wise, caring, funny, talented,
and all things marvelous.
Cecilia
Dart-Thornton
CONTENTS
Glossary
Map: The Four Kingdoms of Tir
Preface
1 Prophecy
2 Deliverance
3 The Uncanny
4 Aeronautics
5 Of Bards and Birds
6 The Dome
7 Quest
8 The Comet’s Tower
9 Riddle
10 Lake
11 Weathermastery
12 The Well
13 Bane
Notes
Acknowledgments
GLOSSARY
Álainna Machnamh:
(AWE-lanna Mac-NAV)
a stór:
darling (a STOR)
Ádh:
luck, fortune (AWE) Lord Ádh is one of the Four Fates
Aonarán:
loner, recluse (AY-an-ar-AWN)
áthair:
father (AH-hir)
brí:
the power possessed by weathermasters enabling them to predict and control the dynamics of pressure systems and temperature inversions, wind currents and other meteorological phenomena
cailín:
girl
Cailleach Bheur:
The Winter Hag (cal-yach VARE or cail-yach VYURE)
carlin:
wise woman
Cinniúint:
destiny, fate, chance (kin-YOO-int) Lady Cinniúint is one of the Four Fates
cruinniú:
a flotilla of pontoons used as a central meeting place, from the Irish word for “gathering, meeting, collection” (crin-YOO)
Cuiva:
(KWEE-va); in the Irish language this name is spelled “Caoimhe”
Earnán:
(AIR-nawn)
eldritch:
supernatural
Eoin:
(OWE-in)
Eolacha:
(o-la-ha)
Fionnbar:
(FIN-bar or FYUN-bar)
Fionnuala:
(fin-NOO-la)
gariníon:
granddaughter (gar-in-EE-an)
garmhac:
grandson (gar-VOC)
Gearóid:
(gar-ODE)
gramarye:
magic
gramercie:
expression of thanks
Ice Seven:
a crystal that will not melt, created by the weathermasters
Lannóir:
Goldenblade or Fallowblade, the golden sword, the only one of its kind, slayer of goblins and heirloom of the House of Stormbringer (lann-OR)
Liadán:
(LEE-dawn)
Luchóg:
(La-HOGE)
Maolmórdha Ó Maoldúin:
(mwale-MORGA oh mwale-DOON)
máthair:
mother (MAW-hir)
Mí-ádh:
bad luck, misfortune (mee-AWE) Lady Mí-ádh is one of the Four Fates
Míchinniúint:
doom, ill-fate (mee-kin-YOO-int) Lord Míchinniúint is one of the Four Fates
muirnín:
darling (mwirr-NEEN)
Odhrán:
(o-RAWN)
Páid:
(PAWD)
Ragnkull Island:
(RAGG-en-kull)
Ruairc MacGabhann:
(RORK mac-GAVAN)
Saibh:
(say-EVE)
seanathair:
grandfather (shan-AH-hir)
seanmháthair:
grandmother (shan-WAW-hit; “waw” as “au” in “Maud”)
seelie:
benevolent to humankind
Stryksjø:
(STRIKE-syo)
To sain:
to call for protection from unseelie forces
Uabhar:
(OO-a-var)
Uile:
the All, or universe (ILL-e, “e” as in “best”)
unseelie:
malevolent to humankind
To wassail:
to greet someone
Preface
The Well of Tears is the second book in the CROWTHISTLE CHRONICLES.
Book 1: The Iron Tree, told of Jarred, a young man who lived in a village in the desert kingdom of Ashqalêth, and possessed an amulet that apparently made him invulnerable. He and his comrades decided to travel to seek their fortunes in distant realms. On the way, they visited a town built amongst the intricate waterways of the Great Marsh of Slievmordhu, where Jarred fell in love with a marsh-daughter named Lilith.
Slievmordhu is a kingdom situated in the southwest of Tir, a continent throughout which grows a disliked but beautiful common weed called “crowthistle.” Eldritch wights dwell in the marsh but seldom harm the marsh-folk, who understand them and their ways. An urisk, a seelie wight like a dwarfish man with the legs of a goat, often loitered near Lilith’s cottage, where she lived with her mother, Liadán; her step-father, Earnán; Earnán’s son, Eoin; and Earnán’s mother, Eolacha, a wise carlin. Nearby lived Old Man Connick, a demented and elderly man who was the father of Liadan. Unknown to her family, Lilith’s mother kept imagining she could hear footsteps invisibly following her, and privately sensed that she was falling prey to a mysterious madness.
When Jarred and Lilith fell in love, Lilith’s step-brother, Eoin, became jealous. Jarred and his comrades departed from the marsh and continued on their travels, but Jarred could not stop thinking about Lilith. Back at the marsh, Lilith’s mother tried to flee from her growing madness, but instead was accidentally drowned. Jarred made excuses to his f
riends and returned to the marsh to settle. His arrival helped Lilith endure her grief over the apparently inexplicable death of her mother.
Jarred learned the ways of the marsh-dwellers and began to court Lilith. Around his neck he still wore the protective amulet. Rivalry grew between him and Eoin, who was resentful of Lilith’s affection for Jarred, and who guessed the power of the amulet.
During celebrations of the traditional Festival of Rushbearing, Lilith became lost and injured. The urisk, usually surly but in this case benevolent, helped Jarred find her. Upon her rescue the two lovers plighted their troth. Jarred gave his bride-to-be a ring, and his amulet.
Their happiness, however, was short-lived. After Old Man Connick died, completely insane, the carlin Eolacha and young Lilith realized that there was some kind of curse on Lilith’s bloodline. Lilith declared she must never marry and beget another doomed generation. Jarred swore he would find the cause of the curse, and break it.
Lilith and other members of her household traveled to the Autumn Fair at the capital city of Slievmordhu, Cathair Rua. There they saw druids of the Sanctorum, who are the official “intermediaries” between the people of Tir and the “Four Fates.” In the city, Jarred sought to learn the history of Old Man Connick. He visited apothecaries and made inquiries, but to no avail. Eventually a yellow-haired street-urchin called Fionnbar Aonarán led Jarred to the hovel of half-senile Ruairc MacGabhann. The old man related the decades-old history of the brave youth Tierney A’Connacht, who, wielding the golden sword Fallowblade, rescued beautiful Álainna Machnamh from Janus Jaravhor, the long-dead Sorcerer of the (now sealed and abandoned) Dome of Strang in Orielthir.
Jaravhor, powerful and malign, then cursed the heirs of Tierney A’Connacht and Álainna Machnamh with madness and death. Old Man Connick, his daughter, Liadan, and her daughter, Lilith, were all descended from the cursed couple. This tale of the past explained the nature of the malediction, but not how to break it. Jarred returned to his friends and sweetheart and told them what he had learned. The news cast a pall of gloom upon them all.
On a subsequent visit to the city Fionnbar made a second appearance, and guided Jarred back to Ruairc’s hovel. On the way he led Jarred near a strange indestructible tree that grew in the city. Enclosed inaccessibly within the Iron Tree’s fretwork of thorny boughs was an extraordinary, sparkling jewel. Jarred was tricked into retrieving the jewel—a feat no man had been able to achieve before—thus inadvertently proving he was the grandson of the sorcerer. It was further revealed that Jarred’s amulet had no power. The talisman was a decoy employed by Jarred’s father, to disguise the fact that Jarred himself was immune to harm because the sorcerer had left an enchantment of invulnerability on all descendants of his own bloodline. Despising his malicious grandfather, Jarred flung the jewel back into the Iron Tree and vowed to have nothing more to do with the Sorcerer of Strang.
Joyfully, Jarred and Lilith returned to the marsh. They believed that they could now safely marry: the benison on Jarred’s blood would surely cancel the curse on Lilith’s. Eoin was not so happy, despite the fact that recently he had happened to do a good turn for some eldritch wights who, as a reward, granted him good fortune. But Eoin’s jealousy festered. He became wealthy, and built himself a floating house, while Jarred remained in poverty.
A year after her marriage to Jarred, Lilith gave birth to a daughter. They named her “Jewel.” Despite his earlier misgivings, Eoin discovered he adored the child.
Lilith and Jarred enjoyed twelve years of happiness together. They were convinced the curse had been broken. Unwilling to compromise their daughter’s happiness, they concealed from her the curse and its history. Furthermore, Jewel had no inkling of her own innate invulnerability. However, Eolacha, the old carlin, eventually died and, as if her grief were a trigger, Lilith began to fall prey to the ancestral paranoia. She heard the first, distant footsteps of madness.
Desperate to save his wife from a gruesome fate, Jarred traveled to Cathair Rua in search of a druid called Adiuvo Constanto Clementer, who was reputed to be a healer of lunatics. In order to pay the healer, Jarred once again retrieved the jewel from the Iron Tree, but a passer-by spied him doing the deed. Soon, word of the jewel-taker came to the ears of King Maolmórdha and his profoundly flawed family, including the conniving eldest son, Crown Prince Uabhar. The executant of this deed would necessarily be of the sorcerer’s blood, and they suspected that only a descendant of the sorcerer would have the power to open the sealed Dome, revealing the reputed treasures hidden within. Uabhar convinced his weak father that it was in the Crown’s interests to capture this “jewel-thief” and make him unlock the Dome of Castle Strang.
Ruairc MacGabhann’s niece, the drudge Fionnuala Aonarán (half-sister to Fionnbar), came in haste to Jarred, whom she loved. She informed him that the king’s men were hunting a man of his description, and also seeking any offspring he may have. Jarred wished to have nothing to do with the mysterious Dome. Besides, he knew Maolmórdha was untrustworthy and in all likelihood would harm him. Fervently he hoped that the king was not aware he had a daughter. Fionnuala and Fionnbar helped Jarred to escape, but only after they had forced him to promise he would later leave his family and go with them to unlock the secrets of the Dome.
Eoin, also visiting the city, witnessed a strange funeral, conducted by eldritch wights. When he looked into the coffin he saw a corpse with his own face and understood, to his horror, that he had witnessed an omen of his own impending death.
With Maolmórdha’s cavalry hot on his heels, Jarred hurried back to the marsh. On the road he encountered Eoin, who eventually admitted that his jealousy had led him to betray Jarred to the king. When Eoin realized that in betraying his rival he would also be bringing danger to Lilith’s daughter, Jewel, he became utterly distraught, and filled with self-loathing.
At the marsh Jarred angrily bade Eoin help him, and told Lilith and young Jewel to make ready to journey in secret to the safe haven of Narngalis. But before they had a chance to leave the marsh the madness came upon Lilith again, triggered by the fear of pursuit. Running in terror, Lilith tumbled over a cliff and was mortally injured. Jarred, trying to retrieve her broken body, slipped and fell a short distance. By ill-chance his heart was pierced by a branch of mistletoe sprouting from a tree leaning out from the cliff part-way down. Mistletoe was the only thing in the world (besides old age) from which the sorcerer’s enchantment could not protect him.
Jewel’s parents were now both dead, and Eoin, racked by the agony of remorse, was determined to save the child on his own. They set out together in their boat—just in time; the king’s cavalry arrived at the marsh soon after they had left. Toward the close of the book the following words are written:
On the lightless staithe of the Mosswell cottage, Cuiva and Odhrán Rushford stood together, the moon-pale and the sun-browned. Their faces were folded in on themselves, creased and wet with crying, and they leaned upon each other’s shoulders.
They could hear the king’s men crashing and splashing through the marsh. Frogs twanged. Stars had fallen into the water, or perhaps they were dying blossoms.
“So,” said Odhrán, “in the end the sorcerer wreaked his full measure of vengeance.”
They stared out in the direction Eoin and Jewel had taken, and after a while Cuiva said, “I wonder what will become of them.”
Toward morning, Jewel and Eoin reached a northwestern edge of the marsh. They came ashore and set the canoe adrift. Shouldering their bundles, they disappeared into the gray woods, like trows hastening to depart the haunts of mortal men before sunrise.
Jarred and Lilith had perished, but their child lived on. In later days it was said that the wraiths of the doomed lovers could be seen walking joyfully, hand-in-hand, through the marsh twilight.
The
WELL
of Tears
Prophecy
For five nights and five days Jewel and Eoin fled on foot across sparsely wooded countryside, northward f
rom the Great Marsh of Slievmordhu. Often they looked back, scanning the uninhabited landscape to see if anything was coming after them.
They could not discern any obvious signs of pursuit, but they made haste, nevertheless.
By day, sunlight silvered the ferns carpeting the bracken-woods, where tree-boles leaned against their own shadows. By night, the far-off constellations were gauzy scarves of white mist sewn with nearer stars as brilliant and hard as splinters of glass. The dark hours were also the wighting hours, their wind-murmuring quietude randomly punctuated by dim sounds of sobbing, thin, weird pipe-melodies, unintelligible singing, or bursts of rude, uncontrollable laughter.
The rations the wayfarers carried in their packs were scant, and dwindling fast. Their departure from the marsh had been precipitous; in their haste to escape before King Maolmórdha’s troopers arrived, there had been no time to throw anything more by way of provisions into the canoe than a few lotus-corm loaves, some packets of dried fish, and a couple of leathern flasks.