Song of Shadow

by Natalya Capello

  She’d brought the boat home.

  “Oh!” Aela leapt forward and gripped Lorelei’s hands. “Thank you, lady. I would as sure as lost him without you.”

  She planted a kiss on each of Lorelei’s palms and then let go to rush down the dock to meet her family’s boat. On the other side of the dock, the ship that held the Apostle of Fire coasted into a space as well. The nuns had been hard at prayer while Lorelei had been struggling with the waves.

  With a sigh, Lorelei straightened up. The wind had blown the hood of her cloak back during her battle with the storm and her hair was completely soaked through. It looked like she would be meeting one of the most important faeries in the Empire looking like a drowned waif.

  2

  The nuns had hustled the Apostle and her two sidhe companions back to the tavern to wait out the rest of the storm. Lorelei had trailed behind, exhaustion from her efforts to save the fishing boat dogging her steps.

  All now huddled near the fire in the hearth. Bardo had cleared the other patrons from the four tables surrounding the fire before he had left to prepare transportation for the Apostle and nuns. The ousted faerie sat at the tables along the wall. Those who hadn’t been lucky enough to take a chair, stood with their mugs in hand and murmured.

  Lorelei slumped in her chair at one of the tables orbiting the Apostle’s and rested her head on her arms. She hadn’t performed such a feat of magic in a while. Not since the citadel.

  Where Arryn had gotten hurt.

  She sat up with the shake of her head. She wouldn’t think about Arryn, or her family. There was an Apostle of the church to focus on.

  The Apostle stood out from the nuns as she was dressed in silks in shades of red, layered to give off the effect of a dancing flame as she moved. They were dry and unwrinkled as if the storm had not touched her. They should have clashed with her deep red hair, but somehow, they complemented it. A gold starburst pendant hung around her neck and golden ear cuffs adorned her long, pointed ears.

  The two other sidhe sat on either side of her, dressed in ceremonial robes of white with gold trim. The rain had soaked them through, turning the white into gray.

  The Apostle looked up from where she was staring into the fire and her gaze fell on Lorelei. She waved her over.

  Lorelei stood, running her hands over her still wet clothing and trudged over. She gave a slight curtsey.

  “You are Lady Lorelei ap Moura, correct?” The Apostle spoke in a smooth voice, like a violin.

  “Yes, Apostle,” Lorelei said.

  How much did the Apostle know of her? The Prioress had told Lorelei that she’d been requested specifically, but why?

  “I am the Apostle Evangeline,” the Apostle said. “We heard your song through the storm. You have quite a talent.”

  “One can almost say it’s enchanting,” the female on her right said with a smirk.

  She sat with her arms relaxed and her hand resting on her lap but an alertness surrounded her. Her black hair was piled on her head in an elaborate twist of braids. Her green eyes slanted over to her companion who gave a silent chuckle. Lorelei’s gaze shifted between the three sidhe. They seemed to have some secret jest she wasn’t a part of, or she was the butt of it. Heat suffused her cheeks.

  Apostle Evangeline waved to the right. “This is Vaana.” Then she waved to her left. “And this is Beth. They have been kind enough to accompany me.”

  Both nodded. Beth’s hair was almost as elaborate as Vaana’s. Two pale blue streaks cupped her face while the rest of her black hair was pulled up. She studied Lorelei like she was some sort of creature the acolyte was not sure should be killed or not. The room became hot and Lorelei’s breath grew even shorter.

  “You must have had extensive training to have that effect on the storm,” Vaana said.

  “I did attend the Aimsir for a short time, but I was unable to complete my training,” Lorelei said. “I practice quite a bit, though.”

  “Very impressive,” Apostle Evangeline said. “I commend you on your dedication, Lady Lorelei.”

  Lorelei gave a small curtsey. “I am honored, Apostle.”

  The door to the tavern opened and the barkeep stepped inside. He approached the group and bowed to Apostle Evangeline before turning to address the Prioress who sat at a table to the Apostle’s right.

  “Milady,” he said. “We have prepared a coach for you and the Apostle to travel in.”

  The Prioress looked down her nose at him. “Only one coach?”

  He shrank beneath her look. “Forgive me, Milady, but your other coach was damaged in the storm. The coach can fit six of your party inside and another with the driver.”

  “It is alright. I’m sure a few would be willing to stay behind to wait out the storm.” She gave Lorelei a conspiratorial smile.

  Lorelei raised an eyebrow, but a grin spread across her face. She wasn’t going to lose this chance for a little longer outside of the priory. “I will stay.”

  The Prioress gave her a sharp look. “Nonsense. You are under our care by the direction of your parents. We cannot leave you in the town alone.”

  “I will stay with her,” Vaana spoke up.

  “Vaana is one of my most trusted,” Apostle Evangeline said to the Prioress. “She will watch after Lady Lorelei.”

  The Prioress looked between the Apostle and Lorelei with a pinched mouth.

  With a sigh, she bowed her head to the Apostle. “As you wish.”

  “Excellent,” Apostle Evangeline beamed at her.

  She rose and the Prioress and the rest of the nuns followed suit. The patrons stood from their sitting positions and bowed. She raised her hand and murmured a prayer over the crowd, then turned her attention back to Lorelei.

  Lorelei gave another curtsey.

  “It was a pleasure meeting you, Lady Lorelei. I’m sure we will have time to speak again.” Apostle Evangeline turned to the barkeep. “Please lead the way.

  The barkeep tottered out the tavern with the Apostle and her entourage of nuns following behind. Once the door had shut, muting the sound of pounding rain, the crowd broke up into smaller groups, speaking with each other as they reclaimed the tables. Vaana stood near the table the Apostle had vacated.

  Lorelei plodded to the bar and grabbed a bottle of wine and a glass. She would pay Bardo for it when he came back. She returned to the table near the fire, sank in one of the empty chairs, and let out a loud whoosh of breath. Meeting the Apostle had been intense and it seemed she wanted to speak more with Lorelei. What was her interest?

  Vaana sat down across from her and smiled at her. “So, now that we’re alone, let’s get to know one another. What’s your life story?”

  Lorelei blinked. “My life story? That’s a bit personal.”

  Vaana shrugged. “I find small talk meaningless. It is such a bore that makes state events drag on forever. So how did you end up on a remote island like this?”

  “It’s a complicated series of events.” Lorelei poured wine into the glass and took a deep drink. “What is your interest with me?”

  Vaana tilted her head with a smirk. “What do you mean?”

  “The Apostle asked to meet me specifically when she arrived. You stayed behind and now you are asking about my life. Doesn’t seem like this is casual interest.”

  Vaana chuckled and leaned back in her chair. “Very astute. Well, let’s get down to it then. I have a proposition for you

  Lorelei studied her with a raised eyebrow. “What is this proposition?”

  “The Apostle of Fire wishes to recruit you to travel in her retinue to the city of Nearon.”

  Lorelei’s eyes widened. “I’m not with the Order. I’m only staying here under the care of the priory.”

  “Ah, but it is your talents we need, Lady Lorelei, not a member of the Order,” Vaana said.

  “I didn’t even complete my training at the Aimsir. Almost any Magus would be overjoyed to work for an Apostle. What could I have that is so special?”

  �
�You are a Moura. So, I’m sure you know of the story behind the Menhir Du Moura,” Vaana said.

  Lorelei’s heart fluttered. As a child, she’d begged her father, her mother, her nursemaid, or anyone, really, to relay the story of Lady Moura and Lord Essus, the founders of two of the Great Noble Houses, to her repeatedly. When she’d gotten older, she’d read the story itself almost every night. It had been her talisman against the nightmares that plagued her. Lady Moura had been brave in the face of destruction and she had fought for the male she loved, even if had cost her death.

  “Of course.” Lorelei cleared her throat. “Lady Moura’s lover Essus built the cairn as a monument for Moura after she was killed.”

  “By his wife,” Vaana said. “Shame they had such an illicit relationship.”

  Lorelei bristled. “If I remember correctly, his wife had become tainted by the Miasma.”

  “True, but it’s not known whether that was before or after.”

  “Still, their love is an epic romance,” Lorelei said.

  “What if I told you that there are wonders hidden in the Menhir? Would that pique your interest?”

  Lorelei leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. “I’m listening.”

  “Well, the Apostle believes there are important artifacts that should be recovered. Some could be dangerous to the people of Threshold and must be kept in the Order’s care. However, we are unable to access the Menhir. It requires a Moura, or an Essus.”

  “Why haven’t you approached an Essus, then?”

  Vaana waved her hand. “You know they are all cursed with madness. It makes them really unreliable.”

  “I thought that was just a rumor,” Lorelei said. “Like their supposed ability to see the future.”

  Vaana smirked. “You haven’t met an Essus, have you?”

  Lorelei looked down at her hands and shook her head. Her family had never run in the same circles as any from House Essus. Their members tended to be more aloof than the other Houses.

  “Trust me,” Vaana said. “The rumors are true. So, we need a Moura, especially one with your magical talent. If you are willing, we can travel together. Of course, we’ll pay for some equipment. After all, we need to be prepared to travel through Winderward. Once we have finished, the Apostle will declare you are fit to be free from the care of the Order.”

  “Winderward.” Lorelei leaned back and crossed her arms. “That’s those ancient ruins attached to Nearon, right? From a city that existed before the Miasma?”

  “Indeed,” Vaana said. “Interesting that Lord Essus would build the Menhir there, isn’t it?”

  “I’ve always wondered,” Lorelei said. “I mean, there are rumors the city has wild magic that causes it to shift.”

  Vaana leaned forward with a sparkle in her eye. “Lends credence that there is something there, doesn’t it?”

  Lorelei bit the inside of her cheek. Her gaze landed on a birdcage hanging above the bar. Two small brown birds hopped up and down along the perch inside. Her chest tightened. The priory was her own cage, but not forever. One month and her father would come for her. One month and she would fly free. Working for the Apostle, with Vaana, could take longer than a month. She’d be on a mission, exploring a place she’d only heard stories about, but she’d still be under direct yolk of the Order.

  What are you wanting to go back to? A voice whispered in her head. More pain?

  No, there was a chance that she could prove to her family, prove to Arryn, that she was well. That was why they’d sent her to the Priory. If she behaved, he would accept her. She looked up at Vaana and swallowed hard.

  “I appreciate the offer,” Lorelei said. “It is very intriguing, but my family will be coming for me soon. I’ll be able to go home.”

  Vaana raised an eyebrow. “You think they will accept you?”

  Lorelei narrowed her eyes. “What do you know about my family?”

  “Enough to know you are the odd one, the adventurous one.” Vaana shrugged. “Perhaps we were mistaken on that last part.”

  “You are,” Lorelei said. “My thirst for adventure died two years ago.”

  Lorelei raised her chin and let her confidence in her words right through. Still, in the back of her head a tiny voice whispered one word.

  Liar.

  After a few hours, the rain lightened enough for Lorelei and Vaana to trek to the Morningtide Priory. Traveling on the muddy roads slowed them considerably and they didn’t reach the priory unto well after the sun had set. Luckily, the barkeep had provided a lantern for them before they’d left the tavern.

  Lorelei entered her room and leaned against the door with a sigh, closing her eyes. What a crazy day.

  She hadn’t lied to Vaana exactly. She’d had to douse her craving for adventure when she’d nearly gotten her schoolmates, Arryn, and herself killed on an insane quest to find a way to control her magic. That mistake had led to her being stuck at the priory now. It meant no more adventures. Her stomach twisted and the world appeared duller like the sparkle had gone out of everything just at the thought. However, if she wanted to win Arryn back, she needed to try and live a normal life, starting with finishing her time here at the priory.

  With a groan, she stripped off her wrinkled dirty dress and trudged to the wash basin on an end table. She filled it with water from a pitcher next to it and washed off the dirt and grime. After her fight with the storm and hours of walking, the thought of running a bath seemed a monumental task. She would clean off what she could for now and have a bath in the morning.

  She grabbed a chemise hanging from her bedpost, pulled it over her head and, collapsed into her bed pressed against the far wall of her room. The mattress was lumpy and hard, but the blanket was soft and warm. Her eyes fluttered closed and she drifted in darkness in a matter of seconds.

  A rap on the door, followed by the muffled voice of one of the nuns woke her. “Pardon me, Lady Lorelei, but your family wishes to speak to you.”

  Lorelei sat up and rubbed her face. The first rays of dawn slanted through the blinds of her window. She must have been exhausted. She barely remembered the nightmares except for the sensation of falling forever.

  Her head snapped in the direction of the door as the nun’s words filtered through her sleep-muddled mind.

  “Now?” she called.

  “Yes,” the nun said with an exasperated tone. “They are holding the mirror communication open to wait for you.”

  Lorelei looked down at the dirt smudges she had missed on her arms. She really should have taken that bath last night.

  “I’ll be out in a moment.”

  “You should hurry. This magic seems to be taxing on your sister.”

  Lorelei huffed out a silent breath. “Of course, Freya would be the first to complain.”

  Lorelei hopped from her bed, rushed to the wash basin, and scrubbed her arms and face. The night had cooled the water and it was like ice upon her skin. She grabbed a brush from her nightstand and ran it through her hair in a few quick strokes as she strode to her wardrobe and dug out a dress. It was a simple one made of white cotton with yellow embroidery. She lay it on the bed and stared at it for several moments, biting the inside of her cheek. Her mother and sister would expect her in something more elegant, but that would take hours. This dress would have to do on such short notice. She slipped it on, then emerged from her room, as ready as she could be to face her family.

  The nun raised an eyebrow at her. Lorelei gave her a nod, and the nun turned and led the way through the stone hall and down a set of steps. She opened a door to a small room that held several chairs stationed around a large, full-length mirror. Lorelei took a deep breath and sat in one of the chairs.

  “I’ll give you some privacy.” With that, the nun left, closing the door with a quiet click.

  Lorelei focused on the mirror and clenched her hands on the arms of the chair at the sight in front of her. The shimmering reflection of the mirror didn’t match that of the room. Instead, it showed
the sitting room of her home.

  Her mother sat in the leather high-backed armchair next to the stone fireplace with her eyes narrowed and a taut jaw that made her slender face even more narrow. She was dressed in a light green day dress with a lace bodice. Lorelei’s father loomed over her chain with his hands behind his back. His dark brown hair, the same mahogany as Lorelei’s, was combed back from his face, accentuating his long ears. Beside her mother sat Freya, dressed in a blue silk and white lace gown. Her hand rested on the sidhe male sitting in the last chair.

  Arryn.

  Lorelei’s chest twisted into knots.

  Arryn’s blond hair was long enough to brush his shoulders, but he had it tied at the nape of his neck. He wore a dark blue overcoat stitched with a coat of arms depicting a ship and waves over a torch and sword over the right side of his chest. It was the crest of House Nemain, his house, and soon to be Freya’s.

  Lorelei sucked in a breath and closed her eyes, willing the whirlwind within her chest to calm. After a few moments, she opened her eyes and smiled at them with an expression of serenity.

  “Hello, Mother, Father…Freya.” Lorelei swallowed at the tightness in the throat. “Arryn.”

  “Hello, Nightingale.” Her father’s pale blue eyes warmed as he gave her a smile.

  Her mother’s gaze slid over Lorelei with cool disdain. “This is how you present yourself to us? Your hair is a mess. And what are you wearing?”

  Lorelei ran a hand over the skirt of her dress, trying to smooth out the wrinkles as her face heated. “I had little notice that you had contacted me.”

  “I think there’s even dirt on her cheek,” Freya said in a scandalized tone.

  Of course, Freya looked picturesque. Her golden hair was coifed in a series of elaborate braids that spiraled to a bun at the left side of her neck, just below her ear.

  Freya was the radiant one. She shared the same soft hair as her mother while Lorelei had inherited her father’s mahogany tresses. Of course, it didn’t end there. Lorelei’s eyes were two obsidian orbs, while Freya had the pale blue of her parents. Her cheekbones were more delicate, her lips more sculpted, and she was thinner while Lorelei had more rounded hips and breast. Freya had been the favorite of her family. More beautiful and gifted.