Free Tower of Thorns by Juliet Marillier

make you feel better.” So I did, and it did. And eventually, when we had made considerable progress on the bread and honey, he said, “About happy endings. Folk like a story to finish well. Doesn’t matter if that’s true to life or not. Helps to hear about folk being content. About good folk getting what they deserve. While you’re listening you can believe, for a bit, that you’re good too. Worth a happy ending.”
    I dashed away a sudden treacherous tear. “You’re saying they do only exist in stories.”
    â€œThing is, the story’s like a different world. While you’re in it, anything can happen. The stupid get wise, the ugly get handsome, the poor find pots of gold, the swineherd marries the lady of the house. Only, as soon as the tale’s over, that’s all gone. You’re back in this world. And you’re still poor or stupid or ugly or all three, and folk like Mathuin are still getting away with murder.”
    â€œYou knew I was thinking about him.”
    â€œNot hard to guess.”
    I wondered if Grim thought he was stupid or ugly or both, but I didn’t ask him. “You once said a person has to have hope or it’s not worth going on,” I said. “But maybe hope’s the same as believing in happy endings.”
    â€œJob to do,” Grim said succinctly. “Duty. Enough to make it worth going on.”
    â€œJustice. The same.”
    â€œVengeance?”
    â€œOn its own, not enough.” I would not be satisfied with an assassination. I needed to see Mathuin face up to his ill deeds publicly and pay the penalty under the law. Many folk had suffered because of him.Without justice, we would remain forever what he had made us: victims. “Vengeance and justice, together.”
    â€œFamily,” said Grim. “For them that have got one.”
    â€œComrades,” I suggested. “That’s what men fight for, not for some grand cause.”
    We sat quiet after that, each of us sunk in memories. Until a man-at-arms came to the door and asked, in an embarrassed mumble, if I knew how to lance a boil in an awkward place. He had a friend with him who was trying hard not to laugh. I was tempted to give him a smack.
    Grim put everything back on his tray. “Better?” he murmured.
    â€œI’ll do.”

5
    Grim
    F or a while we’re both on edge. Thinking Lady Geiléis might talk to the prince or Flidais, convince them Blackthorn’s the one to go to Bann with her and solve her problem. Convince them she needs Blackthorn more than they do. But days pass and nobody says anything. The prince has sent for the druid, Master Oisín. So Lady Geiléis is waiting.
    Blackthorn goes to give Flidais a check-over, make sure the baby’s growing right. Looks happier when she gets back. Flidais has said she’d never ask Blackthorn to go somewhere if she didn’t want to, and nor would the prince. Just as well. If they did, Blackthorn would have to tell them the real reason she couldn’t go, which is Conmael. And that story’s not getting told. Once it’s out, folk will know who we are and where we came from. Only one step from there to Mathuin finding us. That bastard wouldn’t care about me. But sure as sure, he’d try to stop Blackthorn from talking.
    Once I hear what Flidais has said, I’m happier too. Though not as happy as I’ll be when Lady Geiléis is gone. Still got that funny feeling about her, the feeling I get when I know trouble’s coming. Blackthorn says not to worry, she’s not going to take a foolish risk by heading off to the border. Turns out she thinks a ritual won’t make things much better at Bann anyway.
    â€œIt’ll take more than that,” she says. “Master Oisín will have to stay up there and work it all out. Talk to people. Listen to their stories. Find out what brought the creature to the tower and why it’s stayed