“You’d love it,” Kell said. “It’s a beautiful city.”
“What does it mean to be an Emerald Tone?” Runa asked, eyeing the pin on Kell’s collar.
“It refers to my skill with storytelling and instruments. As an Emerald Tone, I can play every known instrument.” There was pride in his voice, but it didn’t sound like arrogance. Smiling, Kell glanced between Lyric and Runa. “Do you have family here in the valley?” he asked.
Runa narrowed her eyes. “Why?”
“Just Runa and I,” Lyric said, giving her sister a look.
“They said your mother wasn’t born here?” Kell asked.
Lyric pursed her lips. How much about her and Runa were their neighbors willing to give away, to strangers no less? “Yes, that’s true,” she said. Perhaps if she gave Kell their history, he’d feel sorry for them and want to help. It couldn’t hurt. He didn’t seem dangerous.
“We don’t know where she came from, but our mother said we don’t have family anywhere else.”
“Ly …” Runa growled. Lyric ignored her.
“Your father?” Kell asked. “I’m guessing he’s …”
“We don’t know,” Lyric said. “He was a sailor who passed through the village. Runa and I were born after he left.”
Runa made another annoyed sound, deep in her throat, but Lyric continued.
“We don’t know his name,” Lyric said, “only that his eyes were green as springtime, and his laughter could cause an avalanche. Our mother’s words.” Lyric smiled, remembering how their mother’s face lit up when she’d spoken of him. She’d said nothing else, given no reason why he’d left or where he might be. Lyric and Runa had tried multiple occasions to get it out of her, but they’d never managed to learn more. It was a mystery in itself how a sailor had ended up in their land-locked valley.
Lyric glanced at Runa. Her sister was staring at the table, her face unreadable, and her arms crossed.
“Mama raised us, on her own,” Lyric said, “and trained us to be wise women. That’s what she was, for our village, until we took over.” She saw the unspoken question in Kell’s eyes. “She disappeared when we were fifteen, during the Winter of Kreshan.”
“Disappeared?” Kell asked. “You don’t know what happened?”
“Wolves, probably,” Runa said. Defiance sizzled along their bond.
“I don’t believe that,” Lyric said, shaking her head. “No creature would harm Mama.”
Runa sighed, and Lyric shot her an irritated look, knowing what she’d say.
“Lyric likes to think our mother was called away on some grand mission, some secret purpose,” Runa said. “But if that’s true, she abandoned us without a word and hasn’t attempted to contact us since. I prefer thinking it was wolves.”
Something howled off in the distance, and Runa settled back in her chair.
“Is that what happened to you?” Kell asked. “Wolves?”
Lyric glanced at Runa, catching her eye. Runa's story was what was important here, the story that led to the symbols.
“No,” Runa said. She sighed. “It happened six months ago.”
“During the Harvest Festival,” Lyric added.
Runa gave her a look, and Lyric grinned impishly.
“Yes, the Harvest Festival. Anyway, it was our birthday, and we were supposed to go together.”
“People are usually nicer to us during the festivals,” Lyric said. “It’s like they forget who we are.” A memory of tasting mead and candied apples, and looking at old books on the tinker’s cart came to her mind. Her eyes must have lit up with remembering for Kell looked at her with a bright, knowing smile.
“Supposed to be together, but weren’t?” Kell asked.
“The blacksmith’s wife went into labor right when we arrived,” Lyric said, “and I left to deliver her baby. Both of us didn’t need to go, so Runa stayed.” She grinned sideways at her sister. “Besides, she was supposed to meet up with D-”
“I stayed,” Runa interrupted. She shot Lyric a dark look. “I wandered the village for a while, and then after a couple of hours, walked to the bridge by the abandoned mill.”
“Lovers like to meet there,” Lyric said.
Runa glared at her again, and Lyric hid her smile behind her cup of tea.
“I was standing on the bridge, alone, when I heard a screech, like a nail dragged across metal. The sound filled my ears, my head. I thought my skull would break apart. Then the bridge shook violently, and I fell. It felt like a mountain was crushing me, and I ... screamed.” Runa made a disgusted face. “Then I felt pressure expand inside my chest and ...” She gestured with her hand. “I was here, at home.”
“She simply appeared,” Lyric said, “right over there.” She gestured behind Kell’s chair. “I’d just gotten home from Jaeyn’s house.”
Kell, listening quietly, looked over his shoulder, as if imagining what Runa looked like in that moment. “You appeared back here, dead?” he asked. “A ghost?”
“Yes,” Runa said. “We went back to the mill, to find my body, but nothing was there. No evidence of anything. I half expected to find the bridge ripped into pieces, but it looked untouched.”
Kell frowned, a curious look in his eyes. “You heard a screech, you say?”
“Yes,” Runa said.
“And that’s not all,” Lyric said, impatient. “Show him, Runa.”
Runa gave Kell a long look, then lifted both hands to the collar of her dress and began to unhook the top three buttons. She snorted, when his brows raised, and pulled apart the fabric with a quick flick of her wrists, baring the pale skin of her upper chest.
“Whatever happened, marked me,” she said.
Kell leaned forward, staring hard at Runa’s exposed skin. “Those are dragon runes,” he said, surprise in his voice. “Mage runes.”
"As in the language of magic?" Lyric asked. Excitement flared inside her stomach, and she leaned forward to stare at the intertwined symbols marking Runa's chest in vibrant blue. It still looked like an unfamiliar tangle of coiling lines.
Years ago, Lyric found an old, moss-covered stone in the Umberwood, covered in shallow etchings she thought might be ancient runes, but they'd been too worn to copy, and she hadn’t known anyone who could decipher them. Lyric felt a thrill that she'd been right.
“Magic?” Runa asked. She scowled and looked down at her chest. “You’re saying someone used magic on me?”
“Do you know what it means?” Lyric asked, looking at Kell. Leaning across the table as they were, her face was right next to his, and when Kell looked at her, Lyric’s breath caught in her throat. Up close his blue eyes had flecks of green and gold in them.
Clearing his throat, Kell looked back at Runa. “Well, I’m not entirely sure, but I think that this one means ‘soul seek’ and that means ‘heart.’ I’ve seen runes before, heard them spoken, but written like this …” He smiled apologetically. “It can get complicated.” He leaned back in his chair.
“Can you use magic?” Lyric asked.
Runa seemed disturbed by her question and shot Kell a sharp glance.
“I tried once, in the Radiant Hall,” Kell said, “but I wasn’t very adept at casting.” His cheekbones flushed slightly, and Lyric wondered if he was embarrassed. “Music is more my strength,” he said.
“You mean you can just try?” Lyric asked. “Anyone can try?”
Kell looked at her. “Casting? Of course.” He smiled. “You know the old stories, I’m sure. Magic is in all our blood. It’s the creative force or energy that the Trinity wielded to give us life, and the use of it … well, that’s just manipulating its flow.”
“So someone used magic on me,” Runa repeated. “To kill me?”
“I don’t know,” Kell said, his expression earnest.
“But why me?” Runa asked. “We don’t know anyone who uses magic. We’re in Kaliz. I’m sure you know the general attitude here about mages.”
“Magic, I can’t believe it,” Lyr
ic said. She supposed it made sense. What other explanation could there be? It wasn’t a normal occurrence for someone to die and walk back into their house, as though nothing had happened. And where was Runa’s body? Bodies didn’t vanish into thin air. “Someone must have taken it,” she said aloud.
Kell and Runa looked at her, confused.
“Your body,” Lyric said, looking at her sister. “Someone used magic on you, and then took your body.”
“For what possible reason?” Runa asked. “It’s not like I—”
A loud popping sound drowned out her words, and Lyric jumped in surprise. The air became heavy, charged with static.
Runa yelped, her hair frizzing wildly out from her face, and Lyric felt her curls lift off her shoulders.
Kell stood up, his eyes wide with alarm.
There was another pop, louder, and the smell of burnt cinnamon flooded Lyric’s nose. A woman flashed into existence beside Kell, her boots thudding as they hit the floor.
Runa cursed, falling over, and Kell, still in the motion of standing, caught himself on the back of his chair.
The woman’s red hair, streaked with white at the temples, frizzed around her face, obscuring her features. She was wearing trousers, and a leather jacket, buckled across her chest in a style Lyric had never seen before.
Raising her hand, the woman shoved hair out of her face and surveyed the room with bright, hawkish eyes.
“Mama?” Lyric gasped. There was no mistaking their mother’s face, or her gold-green eyes. They were still as keen as ever, but she looked older and grimmer than Lyric remembered. There were lines on her face, and a new scar on her right cheek.
Confusion, surprise, relief, and joy flared inside Lyric’s chest, and she shoved her chair back impatiently.
Their mother, Elaina, looked between Lyric and Runa with a confused frown. “You’re both here,” she said, her voice disbelieving.
2
Runa
Runa stared at their mother with a mixture of anger and elation. Elaina was here, alive, not rotting in the woods somewhere or bones at the bottom of a stream. She was here.
Glancing at her sister, Runa saw joy and love lighten Lyric’s face. She was crying, tears rolling down her cheeks and dripping off her chin onto the floor. Everything was forgiven. Mother was home.
Runa bit the inside of her cheek and the sudden pain cleared her head. No, everything was not forgiven. Where had she been? Why had she come back? Runa picked herself off the floor and rose slowly, staring at their mother. She didn’t smile, her teeth clenched behind her lips, when Elaina’s face shifted from stern confusion to relief, to happiness, a mirror of Lyric’s.
Runa frowned. What was it their mother had said? You’re both here?
“Marleena?” Kell asked, his voice confused. There was recognition in his face.
Runa narrowed her eyes, glancing between them.
“Elaina,” their mother said quickly. A warning replaced the unrestrained emotion on Elaina’s face, as she eyed Kell carefully.
“You know each other?” Lyric asked. Her giddy smile slipped, as she tried to understand. Then she gasped and rushed at Elaina. “Your arm!” she said.
Runa looked at Kell, searching his face for clues. He knew her mother, likely them as well. Why had he pretended not to know who they were? Anger flared, then faltered as she smelled burning flesh. She looked at Elaina, stepping towards her despite the tangle of emotions constricting her chest.
“Oh,” Elaina said absently, lifting her arm. “Yes.”
“You’re on fire!” Runa said, eyes flaring in alarm. Could Elaina not feel the heat on her skin? The pain?
The sleeve of their mother’s jacket was shoved up above her right elbow, and across the top of her forearm danced a line of blue flame. Runes were tattooed beneath it, its shape distorting as the flesh burned. Elaina slapped at it with her free hand, mindless of injury to her fingers, until Lyric threw a towel over her arm and smothered the fire.
“Thank you, Lyric,” Elaina said. She removed the towel and examined her burned arm. The skin was a horrible red, blistered and blackened, her tattoo gone.
Kell, eyes wide, stared at Elaina as if madness had taken her.
Grabbing bandages and ointment from the cabinet, Lyric backed their mother into a chair and began to clean and wrap Elaina’s arm. She shot a worried look at Runa.
“This will scar,” Lyric said, uncertainly.
Elaina nodded, whatever pain she might be feeling absent from her face. “I had to hurry,” she said.
Anger, familiar and deep, boiled up from inside Runa’s chest, and she glared ferociously. “Where have you been?” she demanded. “We thought you were dead!”
“I’m sorry for that,” Elaina said, her eyes shifting from regret to impatience to something not unlike fear. She looked at Runa’s face, as though it was the first time she’d seen it. “I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”
Elaina might as well have stabbed a knife into her chest. “Sorry to disappoint you,” Runa growled, “but I would never abandon her too.”
“Ru,” Lyric said, her voice chastising.
“No, that’s not …” Elaina rubbed her head. “They said they’d kidnapped you.”
“They?” Runa asked.
Elaina stood up, waving away Lyric’s ministrations and finishing the wrapping of her arm. Her eyes dropped to Runa’s open collar, to the runes on her skin.
“Runa died, Mama,” Lyric said.
The tone of Lyric’s voice made Runa look at her. Her sister’s eyes were full of worry and fear. It was always so easy to see what she thought and felt. Even if Runa didn’t have the constant sensation of her twin’s emotions brushing across her skin, she’d always know what was in Lyric’s mind and heart. It was something she loved about her and something she hated. Some day, Lyric’s compassion would hurt her in ways Runa would be unable to prevent.
“No,” Elaina said.
Runa looked back at their mother, frowning as Elaina shook her head.
Stepping back, Elaina angled her body away and ran her hands over the bottles attached to her belt; several were broken. She cursed, then strode out of the kitchen to one of the windows that faced the prairie.
Runa glanced at Lyric, who met her eyes with confusion. What was going on?
Marching back into the kitchen, Elaina stepped up to the stove and reached for the fire poker, hefting it in her hand before returning it to its place against the wall. “You’re here,” she said, looking at Runa, “so you’re not dead. They must have your body.” She looked at the runes again on Runa’s chest and blew a breath between her teeth. “Obviously they bungled things.” Her eyes sharpened accusingly. “You learned how to … no.” Elaina shook her head. “That’s not possible.”
Baring her teeth in frustration, Runa gestured with her hands, her fingers clawing the air. “Damn it, Mother! Learned how to what? What’s not possible? Who are you talking about? Who did this to me?”
Elaina scowled, likely not appreciating Runa’s cursing. “You’re alive, Runa,” she said. “Your soul has been pushed out of your body.”
Kell bumped the table, drawing Runa’s eyes. He opened his mouth, maybe to ask a question, then he shut it again. Was he afraid of Elaina?
Runa narrowed her eyes. How did Kell know her? Why did he know her?
Her eyes moved back to track their mother. Elaina moved around the kitchen, restless, looking out windows and staring into corners as if she expected something to jump out from the cracks in the wall. She shoved up the sleeve on her undamaged arm and checked a device strapped around her wrist. It was a timekeeper. How had she earned enough money for one of those?
“We need to go,” Elaina said, addressing the room. “They’ll be coming here.”
“Who are they?” Runa demanded. She slammed a fist into the table, her hand passing through the wood without a sound.
Elaina lifted her head, her eyes disapproving.
“Perhaps —” Lyri
c began, always the peacemaker.
“We’re not fifteen anymore, Mother,” Runa said, interrupting her. “You can’t keep things from us and order us around. We’ve been living on our own for four years.”
“Yes, I realize that,” Elaina said. Her eyes blazed, but her voice remained cool, controlled. “I will answer what I can, but first we need to leave. Go somewhere safe. Someone dangerous is trying to draw me out, and they’ll be coming here. They’ll know I’ve arrived by now. Just …” Their mother closed her eyes and pain flickered across her face. “Please, trust me.” Opening her eyes again, Elaina looked at Runa imploringly. Their mother seemed tired, worried, stretched thin.
Runa’s anger faltered as she watched their mother’s eyes. Perhaps Elaina’s life had not been easy since leaving? Maybe something or someone had prevented her from coming back. What if she hadn’t left because she wanted to, but because she'd been forced?
A crack opened in Runa’s heart and for a moment she wanted to forgive everything. She wanted to rush over to their mother and hug her. She wanted to feel small again, protected. She wanted —
No. No, Elaina had to first explain if she desired absolution. A mother didn’t just walk away from her children. A mother didn’t abandon her family.
Runa looked at Lyric and stared into her sister’s wide, conflicted eyes. “Fine,” Runa said. “Where do we need to go?”
Relief washed over Elaina’s face, and she stepped forward, holding out her hands.
Lyric, dropping the bandages, immediately grabbed one hand.
Runa frowned, staring at the callused palm of their mother’s other hand, and reached for it slowly.
“Kell,” Elaina said, “grab my shoulder.” She waited as he shifted forward and rested a hand on her.
Kell looked at Runa, catching her suspicious frown. He flushed and looked away.
“This is going to be unpleasant,” Elaina said cryptically. “Don’t let go.”
Daughters of Fire & Sea Page 3
