Curse of Kings (The Trials of Oland Born, Book 1) by Alex Barclay Page B

about her, only to tell me that I was so very loved,” said Delphi. “There was so much pain in his eyes when he spoke of her…”
    â€œHow did he look after you alone?” said Oland.
    â€œHe brought in a wonderful couple: a groundsman and his wife…” Tears welled in Delphi’s eyes. “Then one day, when I was nine, he told me that the couple who looked after me had had to go away. I cried for weeks. He said that there was no one else who could look after me.”
    Their childhoods were so different, thought Oland, but sorrow marked them both. He told Delphi about his own parents and how he hoped to find their names in the Decresian census. He stopped short when he realised how insensitive he was being.
    Delphi let out a heartbreaking sob. Oland turned away. It struck him that, on the rare times he had cried in his fourteen years, he had never felt the comfort of being taken into someone’s arms, nor had he ever heard a quiet word of reassurance or understanding. He got up and walked over to the mouth of the cave, crossing his arms and staring out into the dark. The water of The Straits was sparkling. He glanced back. Delphi was still sobbing.
    After some time had passed, her crying quietened.
    â€œWhat you said before,” said Delphi. “About me living so close to The Straits if it was so dangerous… my father was very careful, that was why. He was always warning me to be safe and he had marked out – with ribbons on the trees – how far I could go from the house if I was alone. Every year, I was measured for new oilskins to protect me from the water. He knew the currents of The Straits, so that’s the answer to why I was allowed to live here: I was never in danger.”
    She burst into tears.
    Oland let her cry, helpless in the face of her anguish. Delphi was alone, suffering the loss of the only person she had in the world, someone she loved. Oland knew that that was worse than his loss: a love conjured only from a story, or a vision of the future.
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    The following morning, Oland was wakened by the sense of light around him. He slowly opened his eyes and could see Delphi curled in the corner, still sleeping. Oland moved out of the cave and looked down on to The Straits, where a shoal of fish had turned the water to amber, its light radiating up the cliffs.
    â€œDelphi,” said Oland. “Delphi, wake up.”
    Delphi opened her eyes, and blinked several times, looking at him as if she were seeing him for the first time. “Oh,” she said. “Yes. Hello.”
    â€œLook,” said Oland. “Look at the fish.”
    Delphi joined him. “They’re like amber waves.”
    Suddenly, Malben appeared from above, jumping down into Delphi’s arms, sliding back the hood of her cape, rubbing her dark hair. She screamed.
    Oland laughed. “It’s only Malben. Malben, this is Delphi.”
    â€œIs he yours?” said Delphi, trying to pull Malben off her.
    Oland shrugged. “I don’t think he’s anyone’s. But he travelled with me. He… stowed away.”
    â€œA stowaway,” said Delphi, narrowing her eyes at Malben. He laid his head against her neck and pulled himself closer. Delphi laughed.
    â€œHe disappears, then seems to find me, wherever I am,” said Oland.
    â€œI’ve never met a monkey before,” said Delphi, “but there’s something about you that I like, Malben.” She ran her finger down his nose.
    â€œI thought I’d seen the last of you,” said Oland, reaching out to stroke Malben’s head. “Now, get down.”
    â€œDon’t listen to him,” said Delphi.
    Oland looked back at the network of caves hidden behind the raging waters of The Falls, then out again over The Straits. He glanced at the girl beside him who dared to navigate it all, who could perhaps die if she put a foot wrong, yet whom he stood safely beside.
    King