Columbine's Tale

By Rachel Nightingale

For three hundred years the travelling actors of Litonya roamed the land entertaining crowds, but secretly leaving devastation in their wake. Is Mina the only person with the power to stop them?

In the ethereal otherworld of Tarya, Mina begins to master the rare, inexplicable powers  attached to her gift for storytelling. She discovers she can touch dreams, influence the real world, and perhaps find out who is manipulating Tarya for dark purposes. In the waking world Mina is on the run, beset by divided loyalties between the travellers, and caught between two men she could love and a brother who desperately needs her help.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Odyssey Books
• Release date: Sep 15, 2018
• ISBN: 9781925652383

Book preview

Copyright © Rachel Nightingale 2018

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted by any person or entity, including internet search engines or retailers, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying (except under the statutory exceptions provisions of the Australian Copyright Act 1968), recording, scanning or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Published by Odyssey Books in 2018

www.odysseybooks.com.au

ISBN: 978-1-925652-37-6 (pbk)

ISBN: 978-1-925652-38-3 (ebook)

Cover artwork by Nadia Turner (www.wayward.harper.com)

Cover design by Jamie Le Rossignol

Columbine’s Tale is dedicated to Dee Lassau, who showed me how to embrace a creative life and taught me that it’s easy to create magic in the everyday world with a simple touch of sparkle.

Prologue

Tarya

You will forgive me if I speak in my own tongue. The broken words of Litonya strangle what I wish to say, and it is imperative you understand. I am blunt, they say, so I give you the truth without fancy words to make it more savoury.

For three hundred years the players of Litonya travelled the land, leaving devastation in their wake.

If I had been honest with myself I would have seen the wrong when I first joined them, nine seasons ago. Once, I was a person who stood against any who brought pain to others, whether deliberate or no. But then my child, my beautiful Liliana, was taken from me and murdered by superstitious fools who feared her ability to see the future. I learned it was futile to stand against those who, because they are many, believe they are right. Yet never did I think I would stand beside those who did wrong, and join them in their wrongdoing. I can only say my grief made me unable to see, yes?

When Mina joined our troupe and travelled with us to the artisan competitions in the royal city of Aurea, I hated her. I thought Uberto planned to replace me. That Mina would become the new serving maid in the performances. I never expected she would become my friend, the first person I could tell the full story of my little Liliana’s death, outside of my country of Rien. I never expected she would waken my grieving soul and draw me back into the world to live and fight once more.

Mina showed us something wonderful. She wove stories into our playing. And she did something more. For when she was onstage she did not just transform herself, as we did, taking on a character drawn from the dream realms of Tarya. No, she could transform the very air around her, as we discovered during the royal competition, when she brought buildings and scenery out of Tarya and into the waking world for all to see. Though they had no substance, the illusion was perfect. No wonder the king proclaimed our troupe the new Royal Players.

But we all knew, I think, there was more to Mina’s gift than that miracle. None of us in the troupe could forget how she saved Aldo’s life, in the town of Clusone. And though, to the townsfolk, nothing appeared out of the ordinary on that occasion, for those of us who knew Tarya there was … some absence, something that told us Mina and Aldo were gone from their bodies, even while Mina still spoke. I think we all knew they had gone to Tarya, though to where I could not tell. Then Aldo was healed. One moment he was dying, the next moment healed. How I wished for that gift.

For the players, Tarya has always been a source of inspiration for our entertainments. When we don our masks we can reach the heavenly realms of the Tales. Once, it seemed an enormous gift. But Mina’s gifts far surpassed ours. For her, Tarya is a place of power and healing. She found something none of us even suspected might dwell there. Even those who had done this for many years. She found a source of power, and she won us a place at the palace. Then she ran away.

I understood why. She had to find her missing brother. I would have done anything to bring Liliana back, if I could. But other things drove her away also. Dario said she found out she wasn’t the only one who knew the hidden face of Tarya—that it could be a place of harm as much as of healing.

What Mina learned still horrifies me. All those times, when we took the dreams we found in Tarya, it was merely to create our performances. We needed the stories that lived in the Place of Dreams, to turn them into the scenes we showed onstage. That was the way things had always been done, throughout player history. We trusted to the weight of years, accepting without thinking. But some of us sensed what we did was wrong, I’m sure.

It took Mina to open our eyes to what we were really doing.

Chapter 1

Escape from Aurea

Afigure broke from the shadows as Mina passed through the palace gates and into the city streets. Catching a movement at the edge of her vision, she considered turning back to the safety of the palace. But she had just survived an attack from something so terrible every part of her still crawled with fear. She couldn’t go back. She would have to hasten to her destination and hope it was safe there. If only she could remember the way.

Fearing Uberto would pursue her, she hurried through empty streets chilled by night, senses alert. Footsteps echoed on the cobbles behind her. She looked back. A cloaked figure some distance behind stopped still. She tried to call out a challenge, but coldness rose from her stomach, seizing her by the throat, and her voice was gone. Turning, she hurried along the street again.

By now she was quite a distance from the palace gates. Far enough to be unable to call to the royal sentries for help. Had she been foolish to dismiss the idea of danger on the road, too eager to find her brother? She knew female story tellers avoided travel where possible, basing themselves in big cities, but after months of looking for clues to her brother’s whereabouts she couldn’t bear the thought of delays. Dario had told her Paolo lived in the town of Pedon, and her sole thought was to get there as quickly as possible.

What could be worse than the danger she had already faced back at the palace, within her own troupe of travelling players? Uberto, her mentor, her guide to Tarya, her guardian, had just tried to kill her, drawing her into the otherworld of Tarya and nearly suffocating her. Disbelief still had a strong hold, but her body knew better, cold with sweat and trembling. The road was as safe a place as any, it would seem.

Mina quickened her pace once more, trying desperately to remember a path she had travelled only twice before. Had it really been only three days since she feasted with Gianni and his family at their home? After what had happened onstage just now, and after Dario’s terrible betrayal, she felt three years older than before the artisans’ competition. Her day in the city had been marked by frivolity and feasting, without a hint of the looming shadows that even now made her breath catch. Or did her fear rise from the quickening of the footsteps following her?

She had to get off the street, and fast. If Uberto caught her again it would be the end. In all of Aurea, Gianni and his family were the only people who were not complete strangers to her, since they had welcomed her and Dario with a feast during the Festival of Lights. Was she presuming too much asking them for help now? Had their warmth and hospitality been due only to the conventions of the festival? She would soon find out.

Where was Gianni’s home? She whipped her head around, trying to catch something familiar. Last time she had been led there by his family and her senses, heightened by the Visionnaire drug, had not taken in mundane things like direction. Glancing at the tiled walls nearby, she realised with relief she recognised them. Though the street lanterns reached only so far into the pools of night, it was enough. Even in the pre-dawn darkness their scant light revealed mosaics of gleaming white statues backed by emerald topiaries.

Almost running now, Mina stumbled and caught her breath with a half gasp. She still wanted to turn and face her pursuer. Before today she would have, but now her sense of personal safety had evaporated. There was no other soul around to help her so bravery didn’t seem the wisest course. Yet if she was lost, she would rather see her downfall face to face. Hadn’t she just saved herself from an attack using the powers of Tarya? Perhaps she could call on those powers now to confuse her pursuer enough to escape.

Her thoughts spinning in endless circles, Mina froze and a movement ahead caught her eye. A player’s mask hovered in mid-air, slipping in and out of a pool of light. Fear truly gripped her now. Uberto had found her. Then the mask moved once more and she saw it was painted on a tavern sign, alongside a wooden flute. Gold lettering beneath both declared ‘The Masque and Music’ with a flourish.

Mina drew a deep, shuddering breath. She remembered this tavern. Gianni’s house was just around the corner. Sienna, his sister, had commented on the inn’s name, marking it in Mina’s memory despite her drugged perceptions. Mina strode forward again, already feeling the golden embrace of safety. She could sense dawn approaching, and her shoulders released their tension. Only a few more paces.

‘Wait,’ said a deep voice, and her arm was caught in a steely grip.

~

‘Gone.’

Isabella gave a decidedly unfeminine shriek. Dario found himself taking an involuntary step back as her voice filled the room.

‘How can Mina be gone? We’ve just won the competition. We’re the royal troupe. We can live in the palace, in luxury, grow rich, marry well … Be famous. She can’t walk out now. We’ve worked so hard. They’ll take it away from us. I’ve wanted this for …’

Mama Tina smacked Isabella on the cheek.

‘Ow!’

‘Enough of the hysteria,’ Uberto said calmly. Only Dario noticed his shaking hands. ‘This is not a disaster, Isabella. You will still have your place in the royal troupe.’

‘You bet I will,’ she declared. One hand to her cheek, she flounced from the small room, which suddenly seemed much larger.

‘Seriously, Uberto, what does this mean?’ Jal broke their startled silence, his handsome face marred by a scowl.

‘Mina couldn’t handle the pressure, that’s what,’ Roberto said. ‘A girl from a small village, and you put her in what’s basically a starring role in front of royalty.’

‘Mina was the best thing about our performance,’ Ciro said softly. The scar that created a permanent sneer on his face appeared deeper than yesterday, his eyes older. Since the dreadful incident that had brought about Aldo’s death, the years had crept into his face. On that occasion he had attacked Mina, but he defended her now, which was less of a surprise than it might have been not long before. Ciro had changed a great deal since Aldo’s death. Recent events had diminished him both physically and psychically, but they had also taken away his predatory air.

‘She has a good reason, I think, for the leaving,’ Lisette added.

Dario stayed silent. He was the only one Mina had revealed her plans to before she left. He still found it hard to believe Uberto had tried to kill her because of what Dario had told him, but if that was true he would not betray her again. Mina had discovered that every time the players broke a golden thread, severing dreamers from their bodies to acquire a character for the stage, part of the dreamer remained, despairing and trapped, in the depths of Tarya. Worse still, someone was breaking those threads deliberately to harm others. Dario had trusted Uberto, had believed the Master Player should know what was going on so he could fix it. Recent events now pointed clearly to Uberto as the perpetrator.

Mina had told Dario she nearly died during her confrontation with the Master Player. Dario watched the leader of the troupe, the only father he had really known, not aware fear and confusion showed clearly on his face. He didn’t want to believe Mina could be right. How could Uberto possibly be a killer? Yet everything Dario knew of Mina told him she would not lie. Yes, his perception might be clouded by his love for her, but in all their time together, travelling the length of Litonya, he had only ever seen her act with integrity and bravery. His heart knotted to think she was gone, and worse, that she believed he had betrayed her.

‘I will speak to the king and the Council of Muses today,’ Uberto said, ‘to see where we stand. I think we are all aware that Mina’s unusual gifts of story telling were key to our winning the competition. Without her, I hate to say it, but Isabella may be right. We may lose our place as the Royal Players.’

Shaking his head, Uberto too left the room.

‘Well that was reassuring.’ Vincenzo, lounging in the corner on a pile of cushions, stood slowly, his tall frame unfolding until he loomed over the others. ‘It would be a sad day if the Andreini troupe were restored as royal troupe after finally being defeated. Just when a life of glamour is within my reach. Still, Uberto can convince an audience to laugh in the face of tragedy and cry in the midst of farce. I’m sure he can convince the Council of Muses we are worthy of the faith they placed in us, regardless of whether Mina has gone for good. And we don’t know that she has. She never struck me as the flighty type. Dario tells us she’s gone, but he doesn’t know why, do you petal?’

Roberto gave a dry laugh.

‘I don’t know if Uberto can live up to your faith in him, Vincenzo. He doesn’t look well to me. And Dario, your loyalty to your lover is touching, but she betrayed us all. If you have any loyalty to the troupe, you need to tell us what you know.’

Dario shook his head, opening his mouth uselessly. Lisette spoke for him.

‘Do not make to badger him. Dario’s heart, it must be broken. It is not his fault Mina leaves us.’

Roberto spun round toward her, creating a breeze with the swift, elaborate movement.

‘Yet it will be his fault if we don’t find her.’ He continued his spin until he faced Dario.

‘This troupe took you in when you were a small child. Will you betray us now too?’

Dario looked at each of them in turn. They gazed back at him silently. A palpable pressure descended onto his shoulders.

~

A tall, cloaked figure stepped in front of Mina, still gripping her arm. Before she could scream, a hand covered her mouth.

‘It’s okay, Mina. You know me.’

She struggled, trying to bite the hand, trying to back away from the looming figure.

‘Ssh, listen. Listen. We’ve met before. I’m not going to hurt you. Calm down. Please listen.’

Mina quieted for a moment, wary, waiting for an opportunity to escape. The cloaked figure slowly removed the hand from her mouth.

‘Who are you?’

Even as she asked, Mina nearly had the answer. Something about the deep voice was familiar, but fear made her thoughts sluggish. She caught a glimpse of colour and realised her assailant’s cloak was lined in diamond-shaped patches, almost to the hem. It was the cloak of an experienced story teller. This was the story teller who had ridden on their wagon toward Aurea, before the festival. She relaxed a little, but remained wary, ready to run. This man had once approached Uberto about her, wanting to speak with her, and she still didn’t know why.

‘What do you want with me?’

Dario had been so sure this story teller was interested in Mina as a potential lover he had been spurred to reveal his own feelings for her. She shook the thought away bitterly.

‘We have a lot in common, you and I,’ the story teller said, his voice soothing. One long-fingered hand pulled his hood away from his face. The faintest whisper of dawn light barely coloured the darkness, but they had reached a well-lit part of the city. Mina stared, shocked.

‘You’re … you’re a …’

‘A woman. Yes.’

‘But women story tellers don’t travel. It’s not safe.’

The teller nodded. Her hair was cut in tight curls close to her head, a man’s style, but there was no denying her beauty. She must have been about the same age as Olivia, Mina’s mother, but without worry etched into her face it held a youthful light, though her skin was darker than Mina had ever seen before. Wisdom added great depth to her deep brown eyes. Something in her presence instantly reassured.

‘You scared me,’ Mina blurted.

‘I’m sorry. It’s the last thing I wanted. I know what it’s like to be a woman alone, thinking someone’s following you. Story tellers may be revered in Litonya, but there are always those, particularly on the roads … well, you don’t need to hear about that. I was lucky. Being tall, I can pass for a man. I’m truly sorry I scared you.’

‘But why were you following me?’ Mina demanded. She glanced around. Other than them, the street was empty.

‘I’ve been trying to speak with you since we first met. I’m Sofia.’

She extended her hand, which Mina shook, examining it curiously. Growing up in Andon, there had never been many visitors, and Mina had never encountered anyone with a different skin colour. Aurea had been more cosmopolitan, but she had not had the chance to speak to anyone other than palace staff with all the rush of the festival.

‘Would you like to keep it?’ Sofia chuckled, and Mina realised she still held the story teller’s hand. She dropped it.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean …’

‘I take it you’ve never met someone like me before? I can tell you haven’t. My parents were from Algaryn, but they came to Litonya before I was born because they didn’t want to be farmers for the rest of their days. This was fortunate for me—I would never have become a story teller otherwise.’

Nearby, a door opened and a bleary-eyed woman in chemise, skirt and apron swept some dust onto the street. She eyed the two of them suspiciously and withdrew, closing her door firmly. In the growing light the buildings’ edges grew sharper with each moment. Mina could see golden highlights on the tavern sign, picking out filigree details on the mask. With the morning air came warmth, promising another fine summer day. The growing light reminded Mina of the danger she faced. Shutters on windows were being pushed open, increasing the chances Uberto could track her down by asking around.

‘I can’t tell you why, but I need to get off the street. Whatever you want to say, you’ll have to be quick. But not here. It’s too exposed.’

Sofia nodded and followed Mina as she ducked around the corner. Too late, a thought struck Mina. What if Uberto had sent Sofia after her? They hadn’t seemed to know each other on the road, but Mina didn’t know who to trust now. She decided to get away from the story teller as soon as possible. When Sofia grabbed her arm again, she instinctively shook her off.

‘Listen, Mina, if you act like a fugitive people will see, and remember. I don’t know what you’re running from, but the secret to being invisible is to look like you belong. No one will take a second look.’

At that moment Mina recognised the door to Gianni’s house.

‘I’m sorry,’ she told the story teller, ‘but I have to go. We’ll talk next time.’ She turned away.

‘But you haven’t heard what I have to say. You’ll want to hear it, I promise. The reason I’ve been wanting to talk to you is because I can help.’

‘To do what?’

‘To find more stories.’

Despite her decision to get away, Sofia’s words made her turn back. They echoed her father’s parting gift, when she left Andon. His entreaty that she find her stories again.

‘Are you offering me a story teller apprenticeship?’

Before Sofia could respond, a commotion broke out further along the street. Mina’s fears rose up and overwhelmed her. Pushing curiosity aside, she hurried to Gianni’s door and knocked, a little too loudly.

It was opened almost instantly by Gianni’s sister, Sienna. Confusion was quickly replaced by a broad smile of recognition.

‘Mina. It’s good to see you again. Come in.’

Desperation tinged Sofia’s last words. ‘You don’t just tell stories, do you? You make them up as well.’

Mina stopped on the threshold. Sofia’s next words changed everything.

‘You’re not the only one.’

~

Roberto paced the room, spinning swiftly each time he reached a wall. ‘Dario, you must have some idea where she’s gone,’ he snapped.

Vincenzo, lounging on cushions again, steepled his fingers and yawned. ‘Roberto, let it go. No matter how many times you ask, if he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know.’

Luka broke his habitual silence. ‘Why do you need to know so badly?’

Roberto looked at each of the staring players in turn. He opened his mouth, and Lisette expected him to snap a sarcastic comment, but he paused. His eyes flashed black and he visibly relaxed his shoulders. Everyone else, caught up in the endless argument, seemed to have missed it, but Lisette didn’t.

‘I don’t know,’ Roberto replied. ‘I’m just concerned for the troupe. I hope you’re all right. Uberto will sort things out.’ But doubt tinged his voice.

Mama Tina put her hands on her hips. ‘Are you suggesting …’ she began, but was interrupted by the door slamming into the wall. Isabella flounced in. Instinctively Lisette took a step backward.

‘Well, everything’s sorted,’ Isabella announced. She was carrying a calico sack and began rustling through the troupe’s supplies. When she found her clothing she started shoving it into the sack. The others watched her pack for a minute, waiting for her to elaborate. Finally Jal gave in.

Someone has to play her game, Lisette thought.

‘Sorted? Have you spoken to Uberto?’The hope in his voice was reflected in the others’ faces.

‘Yes. And don’t take this the wrong way. I’m not deserting you. Although, given Mina has set a precedent … but you all know I planned to find myself a nobleman in Aurea. Even I didn’t expect it to happen this quickly, but it has! Sometimes I amaze even myself.’

Jal and Dario looked at each other, eyebrows raised.

‘You’re leaving us?’ Mama Tina asked, her voice low.

‘Oh Mama, don’t be angry. Be happy for me. Lucien Andreini has asked me to marry him.’

She let out an excited shriek and continued.

‘We only just met, but it’s true love, we both knew in an instant, and …’

Jal burst out laughing. ‘Isabella.’

He couldn’t say anything else because he was laughing too much. Finally he managed to sputter out his thoughts.

‘You’re marrying a player? For love?’

He wiped his eyes and laughed again. When he broke into a cough, Roberto thumped him hard on the back. Isabella waited until Jal’s display had stopped, then walked up to him, standing very close.

‘The Andreini are royalty among the players,’ she hissed. ‘They live in the palace, they have wealth and power. And an Andreini was part of the Mourini troupe—the first troupe of players in Litonya.’

She slapped him.

‘And don’t you dare make fun of me. Love is not a joke. It is all we say it is in our playing. Noble, wondrous …’

‘And rather convenient,’ Vincenzo said drily. Before Isabella could turn her anger on him, he stood and enveloped her in a hug. He was so big she looked like a child in his arms.

‘Congratulations, my girl. You’re right, the Andreini have an ancient playing pedigree—but so do the Gazini.’

Mama Tina spoke up. ‘Uberto’s ancestor was in Mourini’s troupe too.’

‘Well, I can’t really marry Uberto, can I?’ Isabella laughed, and the tension broke. The room erupted into celebration at Isabella’s news. Only Lisette, who had spent more time than any in her company, let her mind linger on the suddenness of the match. Isabella never did anything unless it was the best thing for Isabella. Lisette suspected not even love would change that.

~

Sienna led Mina and Sofia into her home. Mina was able to notice a lot more than she had during her last visit, when the hallucinogenic Visionnaire had clouded everything. They walked along a wood panelled hallway, past a sitting room stuffed with plump velvet chairs and an elaborately carved bureau topped with several pieces of carnival glass. At the end of the hall, the kitchen, clearly the heart of the home, looked out over a vegetable garden. A large oak table, with seating for a dozen, dominated the room, dwarfing even the smoking black iron range. Gianni and his parents sat at the table, all dressed in work clothes despite the early hour. Sienna gestured for Mina and Sofia to sit. She made them steaming cups of tea while her mother served up pasta from a large ceramic bowl. Still anxious to get out of Aurea and escape pursuit, Mina started to plead for help, but Sienna’s mother silenced her with a wave of her hand.

‘Breakfast first,’ she chided, passing a glass decanter of olive oil to her guest. Mina drizzled her pasta with oil and crumbling slices of parmesan, enjoying the simple meal immensely after the exotic palace fare served during the festival. Like Mina’s own, this was a merchant family. They chattered of the increased trade the festival had brought to their business selling olives and olive oil. They could not keep up with supply at the moment.

Only when the family were sated, sopping out their bowls with fresh bread, did they turn to Mina. Looking at their open, friendly faces, she decided to keep her request simple. They would not understand the darkness of the attack at the palace, so she merely explained she had discovered her missing brother was in Pedon and wanted to travel to find him. She had debated not telling them where she planned to go, but since Dario already knew, it seemed to serve no purpose to keep that to herself. Panic still sat in her chest, a cold weight, so she added a note of urgency.

‘The rest of the troupe are not happy I left. If they catch me they might try to stop me. But I have to find my brother.’

Sienna’s mother nodded sagely.

‘I know the roads. I can help Mina on her travels,’ Sofia offered.

Sienna’s father, a taciturn man who had spoken little during breakfast, intervened, waving a hand to shoo Sienna, Mina and Sofia from the room.

‘They need to talk about this,’ Sienna explained, leading them to the plush sitting room they had passed earlier. ‘Don’t worry, I’m sure we can help.’

Sofia sank into one of the chairs, but Mina could not stay still. The room faced the street, and though the burgundy curtains were still drawn, the sounds of a waking city intruded. Mina tugged the heavy curtain aside to watch the street, keeping back so she would not be visible to passers-by. It was full daylight now and everyone hurried about their business, oblivious to the dark shadows at the heart of the city. There was no sign of pursuing players, but Mina still thought it was only a matter of time. Dario would easily guess this was the only place she knew in Aurea and she had little hope he would keep her destination a secret, after betraying her to Uberto already.

A sob choked up in her throat. Why had she thought she loved him? For a moment she could still feel him holding her, his arms wrapped around her protectively.

I won’t think of him, she told herself. She turned back to find Sofia watching her intently.

‘What is it?’

‘It’s nothing. There was someone with the troupe. Dario. I thought he had feelings for me. But it turned out his loyalty was stronger to Uberto than to me. I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘Oh Mina, I’m sorry. Listen, I meant what I said in the kitchen. I can help you on your journey. I’ve travelled those roads a lot.’

‘Why would you want to help me?’

‘I saw what you did during the competition. Everyone could see the buildings you created onstage. I sensed there was something very

Reviews for Columbine's Tale

[isobelblackthorn · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

As with all series, the reader should have read the first Harlequin’s Riddle. In Columbine’s Tale a short prologue provides a concise and engaging summary for the purposes of catch up, with many useful reminders of the story so far. Columbine’s Tale opens with Mina on the run, determined to find her brother, Paolo, and this time, she believes she knows where he is. She’s being pursued, too. Thinking she knows who by, she’s in terror for her life as she tries to escape the clutches of the Gazini players who are determined to keep her. Then Mina encounters Sofia, a master story teller, and together with their team, the two travel the countryside and, through the power of telling stories, hand back dreams stolen by the players. Mina is determined as ever to undo the wrongs of others, and her quest leads her into increasing danger. Mina’s quest is thwarted by menace and betrayals and as the story unfolds, petal by petal, old betrayals are healed and new secrets revealed.Through Mina and Sofia’s eyes, Nightingale portrays story telling as a gift, one that gives something to the listener, which she juxtaposes with the approach of the players who steal peoples’ dreams and hand them back to audiences as entertainment. But that is only the tip of this complex, intriguing and beautifully told novel.Columbine’s Tale is told from multiple points of view and the main plot lines are carefully interwoven. The use of jump cuts works well as does the building of suspense, culminating in a dramatic edge-of-seat flourish and a denouement that leaves the reader wanting the third and last in the series.Nightingale’s characterisation is impeccable, and with the fewest words she conjures a convincing three-dimensional cast. Descriptions are detailed and evocative, providing the reader with a powerful sense of place. Nightingale makes not only her imaginary Italy alive in the mind of the reader, but also her etheric realm, Tarya, in all of its layers and complexity. The prose is gentle, soft and acts on the psyche like balm. Tales of Tarya is a series to sink into and savour.Nightingale plays with the fourth wall as Mina learns to tell stories from master story teller, Sofia, and here the reader is introduced to the craft of story telling and finding the heart of a tale from a special and mythic perspective. The metafictional element works and invites the reader to consider the true value of the narrative form.Ultimately, Columbine’s Tale is about creativity and healing, of good versus evil, of the use and misuse of magical powers – the power to create and to destroy – and the all-important moral message underpinning the series, that creativity should be life-giving, not life-taking. In all a delightful and insightful read.

[sandyamcpherson · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Once again, Nightingale effectively draws in the reader to a suspenseful tale of intrigue in the world of Travelling Players. Initially, I found the tale "all-action-little-atmosphere" as it raced through setting the story in place relative to 'Harlequin's Riddle'. However, the atmosphere ~ that magical sense that draws a reader into the heart and being of the story ~ developed most satisfactorily once the backstory was introduced. Briefly, so as not to spoil the plot twists, the main character Mina is effectively tutored in storytelling by a companion of the road, Sophia. In return, Mina gives back some of her skills and furthers her ability to complete the quest to find her brother. Storytelling is indeed a gift and this novel brought out the rich tapestry of such a craft. The fantasy of ‘Tarya’ is again present as a mythical realm. This aspect of the novel perhaps entreats an important theme: a story teller’s code of ethics to cause no harm and take care of your audience. That’s a tricky narrative to evoke, a perspective which the author has taken to an accomplished level. (Acknowledgement: I received this e-book as an ARC, and agreed to provide an impartial review).