Song of the Dead

by Sarah Glenn Marsh

  “We’ll be back in a few hours, if you need us. We’re just off to deliver more food,” Meredy says, holding up some wrapped parcels and frowning. “Why? Did something else happen?”

  A flush creeps into Valoria’s cheeks as she says, “After yesterday’s attack, the council thinks it’s time I show everyone that I’m made of stronger stuff than anyone believes. This afternoon, they want me to show all the nobles living here—in my family’s palace—that I have an army at my command to keep them safe.” She seems pleased, though privately I don’t know how a bunch of nobles will react to the creepy, eyeless suits of armor. They take a bit of getting used to. “Once I’ve given them a little demonstration, I’ll be off to meet with Devran again first thing. If we could just get past our disagreement about the Dead, we’d really be getting somewhere.” She sighs. “Besides, the only way to deter new attacks is by making our people feel heard and understood—and by searching for those responsible for yesterday’s fire.”

  “You need us to search some more—?” I begin, ready to temporarily abandon our food delivery for this even more pressing issue.

  “No. Thank you, though,” Valoria says wearily, though her voice is warm with gratitude. “Devran and a few of his people are assisting my guards in an attempt to find the culprits as we speak, so that’s something. If the search goes well, the Shade-baiters in the dungeons will have new company tonight.”

  We’re interrupted for a moment as Azelie passes by, but she doesn’t stop to chat. There are fewer plants trailing her this time, and she looks exhausted, though that’s no wonder after the fire last night.

  “Speaking of the soldiers, are they still coming along well?” I ask Valoria, scrutinizing her for signs that she’s working herself too hard, using too much of her inventor’s magic. “Did you ever find the prankster who put them all in the kitchen the other night?”

  “The soldiers are coming along splendidly, but I haven’t had time to look into the prank in the kitchen, I’m afraid.” Valoria holds up her free hand, revealing grease-blackened fingertips. To my relief, I don’t notice any gaps in her memory, no slurring of her words or a vacant stare, all signs that would mean she’s pushing her magic too far. “When I’m not writing letters or in meetings with the council and the guards, I’ve been helping Noranna and the others with construction while Karston rehearses with them. Did you know we’ve made over a hundred already?”

  Meredy and I exchange surprised glances. That’s more than I thought. Way more. Of course, given how the Ezorans have been moving through kingdoms lately, I’m hardly surprised she’d want to hurry production.

  “Just make sure you don’t work Karston and Noranna too hard,” I say carefully, not wanting to discourage the tenuous hope Valoria is placing in this metal army.

  “Never,” she assures me, her eyes widening with sincerity. “I’ll just need Karston to work his magic for a little while this afternoon, when I call all the noble families to see their new protectors on display,” she adds, looking from me to Meredy with a tired smile. “Will you return in time for the demonstration, then?”

  After agreeing, we wrap our faces with our scarves and set off for the palace stables, bound for the aviary outside Grenwyr where those afflicted who live farther from the city have been going to pick up food and other supplies.

  Once we cross through a dense section of forest and guide our horses up a gradual slope, I spot our destination at the top of the next hill: a massive structure made entirely of glass, big enough to rival the ever-expanding palace, bursting with plants and flowers that press against its sides like they’re longing for escape. Lilting music wafts toward us, beckoning us closer to Grenwyr Aviary.

  A few hundred yards from the glass building, there’s a large canvas tent set up, its cloth siding dyed a bright red to make it unmissable. There, two guards outfitted in Valoria’s latest anti-sickness masks wait to collect donations of food and other supplies that they’ll later redistribute to those in need.

  “Elibeth showed me this place years ago,” Meredy says as we make our horses comfortable in the aviary stable and deposit our heavy parcels with the guards. “Since the horses need a break anyway, suppose we should take a peek inside?”

  I nod. With the mysterious group of arsonists still loose in the city, no doubt already plotting their next move, who knows when I’ll have another moment like this with Meredy? She grins like she’s sucking on something sweet as we walk arm in arm toward the aviary doors. “Speaking of Elibeth . . . Kasmira heard my sister is slowly recovering, too, and she’s volunteered to bring her supper tonight.” Her grin widening, she adds, “For the third time this week.”

  I shake my head, imagining Kasmira being mobbed by Elibeth’s overexcited greyhounds upon arriving at the Crowthers’ manor house with any kind of food in hand. But before I can say that I hope there’s something there, between two people I’ve known for so long, we step inside the aviary and the heady mix of hundreds of flowers steals my breath. The scent is a welcome relief from the sour smells of death permeating the city.

  We’re so enchanted that we remove our scarves and gloves, wanting to let this place fully engage our senses.

  Overhead, birds flit from tree to flower to the small ponds scattered throughout the building, flashing feathers of every color in their wings and tails. On the path, birds like peacocks and even a fancy rooster strut past our feet as if they know they’re something special to look at. Given the recent fever outbreak keeping everyone indoors, they must not have had many visitors lately. The only people I see moving between the plants are the aviary attendants themselves, green-eyed beast masters like Meredy.

  “You probably want to put your hood up,” Meredy says, drawing the hood of her own cloak over her neatly braided hair. She wipes a smear of something white from her shoulder to demonstrate her meaning, and I follow suit at once, laughing under my breath.

  “So now what?” I ask her.

  She grabs both my hands. Her bare palms are cool and smooth against mine, with no hint of roughness or warmth that would let me know she’s been using the crystal again. I rub my callused thumbs across her perfectly healed skin and, for the first time in a while, let myself imagine what our future could hold.

  “Now we listen,” she whispers. She arches a brow as I keep rubbing my thumbs over the soft skin of her hands, but I can’t seem to stop, I’m so relieved. Shaking her head at my behavior, all she says is “Maybe we’ll hear our mystery singer!”

  “Maybe,” I agree, pulling her closer without hesitation.

  But I forget what we’re supposed to be listening for as we stand there among the birds and flowers. When we’re bound like this, I don’t know where she ends and I begin. And while it’s usually impossible not to think of the fever, of the unrest in the city, of how I miss my old job, all those troubles feel as distant as someone else’s nightmare, trapped outside the aviary’s glass walls. Not even memories of Evander seem able to reach me in here, in this other world I’ve entered with Meredy, and, strangely, I don’t mind. I don’t want to know anything but her touch, her laughter, the spark when her eyes meet mine. Whatever the future brings, however many days I have left, I know I want to spend them all with her.

  I know this thing rising up inside me, almost impossible for my skin to contain. This is love. I know it because I’ve loved before, and I remember how it felt, though this isn’t quite the same. The soaring feeling I get when I’m around Meredy is familiar and different all at once. It’s sudden and swift and deep as the endless sea. And I want to be swept away.

  XXII

  Meredy and I are among the last to arrive for the demonstration.

  I want to tell her how I feel, but the moment doesn’t seem right, not when we’re racing against time to be there for Valoria.

  As we return our horses to the stable and hurry to the farthest garden, where Valoria asked us to meet her, I wonder if De
vran and the guards caught any of the arsonists, and whether Karston will be pleased or embarrassed by the attention his unusual gift is sure to bring from all the nobles. I just hope it’s the right kind of attention, the praising kind, and not the same fear we’ve seen from unhappy Karthians so far.

  A small crowd of finely dressed nobles are gathered in a semicircle around Valoria and five of the metal soldiers. It’s good to see that she’s not overwhelming them with the full set.

  Karston stands before the crowd, his uniform crisp and pressed, his posture the relaxed stance of someone who has the world at their fingertips and knows just what to do with it. He must be waiting for Valoria’s signal to make the soldiers move.

  Spotting Jax, Simeon, Azelie, and Noranna near the front of the crowd, as close to Karston as they could manage to get, I elbow my way through a cloud of perfume and silks, making space for myself and Meredy to join our friends. When Valoria spots us coming through, her eyes light up. She must have already given a speech about them, because there’s a whisper winding its way among the crowd that buzzes with anticipation.

  Seeming to take new strength from our arrival, Valoria faces the soldiers and spreads her arms as though embracing them and the crowd together. “For more than two hundred years, Karthia has shut out the world. But not anymore,” she says in the ringing voice I remember her using in the throne room when we returned. “Rejoining the world will mean new discoveries. New friends. But it also means new dangers, and as such, we need to have an army ready to defend our beloved shores. This is what awaits anyone who dares to challenge us!”

  She drops her arms, which is apparently Karston’s signal. The soldiers turn, forming a single-file line, and bang their spears against the ground before performing some impressive twirling and marching stunts with them.

  Just like he has been every time I’ve seen him practice, Karston looks alert, not the least bit worn down from using his magic so often. He’s in total control of the soldiers, their every movement coinciding with every bend of his fingers and turn of his wrist.

  His gift is so strong—his power so impressive. He must pay a terrible price, though I haven’t seen a sign of it yet.

  The whispers of the crowd intensify. Someone stumbles over my toes as they take a hurried step back, a woman wearing boots instead of the usual silk slippers. I wince. Noranna, seeing my distress, offers me her arm for support. Unlike Valoria, she doesn’t smile when she sees her soldiers. Her brown eyes are thoughtful as she watches them clash spears in midair during a leap. Perhaps she’s regretting them not being used for their original purpose—really creepy butlers. I think I’d prefer them without their spears.

  Finally, after each making a bow to Valoria, Karston has the metal creations resume their original positions, standing in a neat row facing the crowd.

  As Valoria begins another speech, Karston looks around until he finds me, Noranna, and the others and starts to make his way over. His part of the show is apparently finished, and his relief is only evident when he wipes a layer of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

  “I’ll take questions now,” Valoria says, catching my attention as she skims her gaze over the crowd and points to a young duchess. “Yes?”

  “Why do they have those horrible eyes?” the duchess asks, eliciting giggles from a few of her friends. “Why bother giving them faces at all?”

  Valoria frowns. Before she can answer, however, Noranna pipes up from beside me. “Because I wanted them to look friendly rather than faceless!” Her eyes blaze with a typical Karthian temper as she glances in the duchess’s direction. “What, should I have stuck some roses on them for you?”

  The duchess and her friends have a lot to say about that, and Karston has a lot to say about them insulting Noranna’s creations. Valoria tries to restore order, but a telltale creaking sound draws her gaze, and mine, away from the bickering nobles.

  One of the metal soldiers, the one closest to Valoria, now has its spear angled forward in an attack position. It definitely wasn’t like that when I saw it moments ago.

  I shift my gaze back to Karston as he growls a colorful name for the duchess, and toss him a wink in approval. She deserved that one.

  Valoria gasps. I turn in time to see the soldier with the pointed spear fall forward onto her, bringing her swiftly to the ground.

  She manages to dodge the spear, at least. The soldier’s hand glances off the side of her neck, likely not giving her more than a scratch, though her face is tight with pain as she tries to lift the heavy iron body off of her own.

  Karston gives an anguished cry. Several nobles scream, too, a sound like angry geese. Of course, that might be in part because Jax and I push several of them out of our way in our haste to reach Valoria in the first moments after the collision.

  “I’m getting Danial,” Simeon announces over the clamor of creaking metal.

  Nearby, Karston raises his hands, using his gift to move the heavy iron figure off of Valoria as tears roll down his face.

  Breathless, Jax and I kneel beside Valoria amidst the unhelpful flappings of the nobles, trying to assess her condition.

  “Hurry!” I call after Simeon.

  The spear didn’t miss Valoria after all. A long gash in the side of her neck is bleeding heavily, like a red mouth yawning against her pale skin. The stiff white collar of her new inventor’s jacket is already stained a gory mix of black and crimson. Valoria breathes rapidly, but she seems to be aware of her surroundings. At least, she winces when Jax climbs to his feet and starts kicking the fallen metal soldier over and over.

  Trying to shield Valoria from the stares of the crowd with my cloak, I lean over and squeeze her hand. My mouth goes dry in the tense moments that I wait for her to squeeze back. If she does, it’s only faintly, or I’m shaking too much to notice.

  “How . . . bad . . . ?” she coughs.

  “You’ll be fine,” I say firmly, while inside I’m screaming. “I’ve survived worse.” It’s true, but only because my friends got me to Danial before I bled out.

  Valoria has to be fine. There could be no replacing my best friend. And for Karthia, there could be no replacing the queen they’ve tried so hard to reject. No doubt people would be even more restless with her twelve-year-old brother, next in line to the throne, guiding Karthia into an uncertain future.

  “Let me see her,” Danial says tersely, dropping to his knees beside me. Exhaling at last, I back up slightly to let the master healer work, but continue using my cloak to hide Valoria from all the prying eyes.

  As I try to rein in my galloping heart, Karston catches my gaze as he attempts to peer around my cloak.

  “Is she going to live?” he asks hoarsely.

  “Karston, what happened? Did you—?” I begin hesitantly, trying to keep the accusation from my voice.

  “Of course not! I’d never make that soldier—” He breaks off, scrubbing a hand over his face and breathing hard like he’s going to be sick. “Odessa, you saw me. My hands weren’t even raised. I was talking to Duchess Aventine, and—”

  “I know,” I say through gritted teeth, desperate to placate him. “I know you didn’t do it. But right now, we need to let Danial work in peace.”

  I try not to let my doubt show on my face as Karston bites back a bitter curse, his hands balled into fists at his sides. I don’t know who exactly he wants to punch. Perhaps, given the way his shoulders hunch inward, the person he wants to beat bloody is himself.

  Still, I have to wonder: If he wasn’t trying to kill Valoria—and it doesn’t seem that way—could this attack be related to the cost of using his magic? Or perhaps this is a strange effect of Azelie’s animation magic. After all, those soldiers can’t move on their own.

  Yet, who’s to say there wasn’t someone else in the crowd today who knows how to magically move things? Someone from the city who wants Valoria dead, perhaps? Guil
t needles me as I realize that should’ve been my first thought, not accusing my friends.

  “Jax,” Valoria murmurs a few times before going oddly still.

  “Right here.” Jax hastily abandons his beating of the metal soldier and drops to the ground beside Danial. He grabs Valoria’s limp hand, cradling it like he’s afraid that if he holds on too tightly, he’ll shatter her.

  Danial, ignoring him, lightly touches the wound on Valoria’s neck as lines of concentration crease his brow.

  I turn away, unable to watch any more. I’ve seen someone I love die before, and I don’t think I’ll ever shake the nightmares.

  The soldier Jax was kicking is just a few feet away. I frown at the metal figure, replaying the moment it attacked over in my mind, but it’s hard to remember details with a nervous crowd surrounding me. It’s hard to think at all when I don’t know yet if I’ll have my best friend an hour from now.

  I’m startled from my thoughts when Danial collapses in Simeon’s arms. His body is in the grip of the temporary paralysis that always follows a difficult healing.

  Forgetting the crowd, I drop my cloak and anxiously study Danial, then Valoria. There’s still blood everywhere, but no wound gapes on her neck, and her eyes have their shine back. Jax helps Valoria to sit up while Meredy collects her crown and blood-spattered glasses. After polishing both on the edge of her cloak as best she can, she returns them to the queen.

  I sink down to my knees and throw my arms around Valoria, knocking her crown askew. After taking a close look at our friend, as if to assure herself Valoria isn’t about to collapse again, Meredy joins the embrace. I’m reminded of the picture Valoria drew of us once, before she had any idea she’d ever be queen.

  “You really scared me,” I murmur into my friend’s blond hair.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers in reply. A bit of color reappears in her cheeks. “Did you happen to watch the healing process?” she asks, drawing back to look between me and Meredy. When we both shake our heads, she frowns. “Really? Neither of you? I was hoping someone could describe it for me.”