The Witch’s Kiss. Katharine Corr

You need no weapon to work evil upon us.’

      ‘You know me, do you? That is good. For I know you too, Aidan Whiteblade, Aidan of the flashing sword. Who has not heard of your exploits? A prince of Ireland. And now king over the South Saxons, since you took from me the woman who was promised me, the woman who owes me her very life.’

      ‘I do not choose to trade words with you. Leave my hall now, or die.’

      Gwydion laughed. ‘Oh, I think not. I am a pupil no longer.’ He leapt back and with his hands made a complex movement in the air: sinuous arcs of ruby light. Everyone – apart from Edith, who had already seen his skill with fire runes – gasped in surprise; some screamed, and started to run from the hall. The royal guards collapsed, unconscious.

      Edith saw Aidan raise his sword and begin to run at Gwydion, and she grabbed at his arm. ‘No, Aidan. Stay away from him. You must look after Jack, keep him safe.’ She kissed Jack, passed him to Aidan, and turned to face Gwydion.

      ‘Here I am, Gwydion. Punish me. Kill me, if you wish. But I beg you, for the sake of the love we once bore each other, do not hurt my family.’

      ‘Edith, do not be afraid.’ Gwydion smiled at her, but Edith thought the smile a mockery of how he had once looked. ‘I am not here to hurt your son. I am here to give him a gift.’

      Edith stepped back, placing herself directly between Gwydion and Aidan.

      ‘I want nothing from you, Gwydion. My only desire is that you should be whole again, free of this madness that has seized you.’

      ‘But I have not told you what my gift is yet. And it is a great gift. When your son reaches his eighteenth year, I am going to take him for my apprentice.’

      Edith’s heart was hammering in her chest, so hard she thought it must surely smash through her ribcage. ‘Gwydion, no. Please don’t—’

      ‘And that is not all.’ He wrote another fire rune in the air, but this one was sharp and spiky and glowed white. It did not fade as the other runes had done, but hung like frozen lightening in the darkness of the hall. Gwydion stretched out his arm towards the baby. ‘He will be an instrument of mercy. He will free your people from the pain and madness of love. He will be the King of Hearts, and all who love shall fear him.’ The fire rune shone with blinding light then exploded into a hundred glowing embers that fell on to Jack’s skin before melting away.

      Edith screamed.

      Gwydion disappeared.

      Three hours later, the uproar had subsided a little. Many of the guests had fled as soon as their servants could be roused, anxious to escape a kingdom that had clearly fallen under a terrible curse. Some had stayed, either from friendship or because they thought it might be easier to negotiate some advantageous treaty while the South Saxons were under attack from within. Aidan had ordered the household knights to assemble their companies, but as yet no target had been found for them to attack. No one had seen Gwydion since he had laid the curse on Jack, and no one knew where he lived.

      There was a knock at the door of Edith’s chamber.

      ‘May I come in, my lady?’

      It was Mistress Anwen and her three daughters. Anwen put down the youngest, a pretty, green-eyed girl of about two, and pulled the queen into her arms.

      ‘My unhappy Edith. To think that Gwydion should have become such a fiend.’

      ‘Can you help me, Anwen?’

      The older woman shook her head.

      ‘I cannot break a curse such as this. My magic is protective, and Gwydion … It is many years since I have seen such power.’

      Edith dashed a tear away from her cheek, as her last hope faded.

      ‘Jack is lost then.’

      Anwen guided Edith to the bed and made her sit down.

      ‘Do not give up all hope. Three things I can offer you. First, advice. Send the child away somewhere secret, somewhere he can grow up hidden from Gwydion, and without fear of what is to come. Second, a blessing. Where is the baby?’

      The nurse passed Jack to Anwen.

      ‘Poor little one, to have such trouble thrust upon you.’ Jack blinked up at her and smiled. ‘I foresee suffering in your life, Jack. But there will also be love, and those who love you will never abandon you.’ She traced her fingers across the baby’s forehead and chest – as though marking him with invisible symbols – before putting him back into Edith’s arms. ‘The third thing I can offer, Edith, is a promise. If in time I see a way to help you, to break the curse or to defeat Gwydion, I swear that you will have my aid. I will bind my daughters to this promise also.’

      Edith glanced at the three girls. They were sitting in the corner of the room; the eldest – a blonde child Edith judged to be no more than five – seemed to be telling a story to the other two.

      ‘But they are so young, Anwen. It doesn’t seem fair …’