Tower of Thorns by Juliet Marillier Page A

twelve, thirteen years? What would he know?” A pause. “Throw some more stuff if you want. If it makes you feel better. Go right ahead—don’t mind me.”
    â€œMaybe not,” I said. “I don’t want to bring in an audience. And I can’t afford to lose any more of these crocks. Though they do make a satisfying noise when they smash. I suppose I’d better go and change this gown, try to scrub the marks out.”
    â€œSalt,” said Grim. “Might do the trick. Don’t let him upset you again, eh? Meant well, most likely, but he should watch his words.”
    â€œHe was telling the truth, as he saw it. I expect he’ll be gone soon, more monasteries to visit, more lore to study. Lady Geiléis too, once the druid comes. Flannan being here—it’s got to bring the past back; it can’t be otherwise. And that brings a flood of bad feelings. Sorry I shouted at you. And . . . thanks.”
    â€œWhat for?”
    â€œTalking sense.” It was far more than that; so much more, I hadn’t the words for it. Nobody else could break through that rage when it overwhelmed me.
    â€œAnytime.”

8
    Grim
    T he day after they’ve had their argument, I see Flannan walking in the garden with the dog, Ripple. Looks like he’s got a lot on his mind. So much he’s not seeing what’s around him. Upset, and who wouldn’t be? They’re old friends, him and Blackthorn. Old friends don’t fight right after they’ve found each other. They don’t call each other cowards. Flannan sits down on a bench, bent over like he’s got a weight on his shoulders, and Ripple leans against him, puts her head on his knee. That dog’s the best-trained creature I’ve ever seen.
    I was angry before, when she told me what he’d said. Now I feel sorry for both of them. I go over and sit down beside him. Flannan doesn’t say a word, not even
good morning.
    â€œDon’t suppose you want my advice,” I say after a while. “But you need to make your peace. Thing is, she’s not often happy these days. Been through some dark times. That smile on her face, when she saw you, that was a rare thing. Most likely you don’t know how rare.”
    Flannan looks like he hasn’t had much sleep. He strokes Ripple’s ears and stares across the garden. Couple of fellows digging, too far away to hear us. “So she told you what I said.”
    â€œSome of it, yes.”
    â€œI didn’t think she would do that. Betray a confidence.”
    â€œWhatever was said, it’ll go no further than me,” I say. “Her and me, we’re careful with our words. You need to talk to her again. Explain yourself to her. Hard to believe you think Blackthorn’s a coward. That’s what she told me. She’s the bravest person I’ve met in all my life.”
    â€œWould she listen, Grim?” He’s looking at me now, looking properly. He’s just as upset as she was.
    â€œShe might throw things. Talk to her when she’s not busy—that’s my advice. And say what you mean straight-out.”
    He nods. Still looks weighed down.
    â€œYou’ve brought back the past,” I say. “That’s good for her. And it’s bad. Talking about Cass and her little boy . . . It hurts her. You’d want to tread softly.”
    â€œI shouldn’t have come,” he mutters. “I’m doing no good here.”
    Know that feeling all too well. “If you can put that smile on her face again, you’ll have done more good than you know,” I say. “She’ll be working now. I’ll take you to meet some of the fellows, show you around the place if you want. Big maze here, easy to get lost. Start with the garden, mm?”
    Turns out this is a good idea. Walking around gets him out of his gloom. He asks questions, not about the past, just about my garden and the work