Cadence dropped her hands from Acheron's head and turning back to Lyric. She held him by the shoulders and looked him up and down. Her fingertips lightly touched the place his ribs had been broken and a dark look came over her face. She looked over her shoulder at Acheron accusingly. The demoness held up her hands.
"Don't look at me. He's the one who thought it'd be a good idea to fight that giant troll again. He's lucky to be alive."
Cadence wearily shook her head. Patting Lyric's cheek, she dropped her pack on the floor and disappeared into the bathroom. In a moment, they heard the shower start. Lyric looked expectantly at Acheron.
"You can hear Cadence, can't you? That's how you knew her name."
"Of course I can. I can hear anyone who's shouting their thoughts. That little bitch is noisy. "
"What did she tell you?"
"She stopped counting. Rondeaux has over a million trained soldiers moving north and south of the California coastline. There are two fleets of sailing ships that will pick them up and carry them to the western shore, behind Markhato. While Melody advances with another quarter million soldiers from the east, Rondeaux will bring his army in from the west and take Markhato from behind."
"I wasn't able to get to the High Master to warn him. Nobody knows, they still think Melody is the main threat."
"I think that's the point. She a distraction."
"How did Cadence get away from Rondeaux?"
"When you sang your discernment song to come out of Rondeaux's influence she heard it."
Lyric stared at Acheron.
"What is she?"
"She's deadly and she's loyal to you. She isn't human. She may have been once, though I'm not certain of that, but she isn't now."
"How did she find us?"
Acheron didn't answer for a long moment, finally she said,
"She can hear your soul song." The demoness looked like it was painful to say that. "She's been looking for you since she escaped Rondeaux."
"Acheron, is Cadence a Verger?"
"I honestly can't tell you that, Lover."
"Why not?"
"Because she doesn't know."
"What is she?"
"She doesn't know."
"You do."
"I have a suspicion."
"Tell me."
"No."
"Why not?"
"I see no benefit to it."
"It would benefit me."
"I'm not certain of that. Regardless, it doesn't matter because in this particular case, my Lover, it's not about you."
"Stop calling me that."
"No."
Lyric turned away from the demoness as the water stopped. Looking toward the bathroom, he had a thought.
"Acheron, I can communicate with Cadence through you."
"Yes, you can, but only if I agree, which I don't. I'm not a telephone. I'm going hunting, Lover. Bye." The demoness smoked out before Lyric could protest. He tried yelling at her over the tie, but she ignored him. Frustrated, he pulled himself back to the motel room. Cadence was dressed in jeans and T-shirt with the familiar long glove on her left arm.
"You can talk to Acheron."
Cadence nodded.
"Why didn't you before now?"
Cadence put a hand to her head and winced as though in pain.
"It hurts?"
His pretty bodyguard nodded.
"Cadence, are you a Verger?"
Cadence looked at him mystified.
"I don't know how else you could hear my song from hundreds of miles away."
Her expression didn't change.
"Do you know what a Verger is?"
She shook her head.
"Vergers are the souls of those who didn't hear the Voice during life." Lyric kept a careful watch on her expression, looking for any spark of recognition. "They are not allowed into heaven because the only way there is through the Voice. They don't belong in Hell, because they never had the opportunity to choose. They are placed in what we call the Verge. It's a kind of waiting place, a purgatory that is on the verge of Hell. Souls who exist on the Verge are not confined by the restrictions of mortal flesh. They develop abilities and powers from their proximity to the gate of death and their own natural predilections. No one really knows why, it's one of the mysteries of creation the Composer chooses to keep a mystery.
"Soul singers, like me, sing a special song called the Soul Song. Each one is unique, each one is untranslatable, and each one is that individual Singer's echo of the Voice of Creation who sang the Score of the Composer into existence. According to what we have of the Score, the Soul Song is only understood by the Song who is one with the Composer and the Voice. Mankind was made in the image of the Composer, soul singers are given an echo of His Voice, it manifests in our Soul Song, which is literally His Song inside of us. This echo allows us to cast into the Verge and tie to the Soul of a Verger. I can't help but wonder if you are from the Verge."
Cadence shrugged her shoulders.
"Acheron says you aren't human. The Prophet Man says you are special. I have watched you do things I wouldn't think possible for any human. I believe you honestly mean to protect me, but why? Who am I to you? There is no reason for you to be so attached to me. Unless you're a Verger and I'm supposed to be your Singer..."
Cadence didn't respond in any way.
"Where'd that scar come from?"
Immediately tears sprang to her eyes and she looked away from him.
"Why does the mere mention of it cause you tears?"
Still not looking him, the woman shrugged.
"How do you fight the way you do?"
That elicited a response. Cadence turned and looked him in the eye proudly and her body went rigid as though snapping to attention. Her right arm drew up to her chest, parallel to the floor her hand over her heart in a fist. Her mouth moved as though shouting, though of course no sound came out.
"Uh, what was that?"
Cadence blinked and looked at him, then down at herself as though confused. She shook her head wearily and sat on the edge of one of the beds.
Lyric considered the woman in confusion and wonder for a moment before saying.
"I'm glad you're okay, Cadence, and I'm glad you're back. You look exhausted, get some sleep; we're heading for Markhato in the morning."
27 MARKHATO
Markhato - the city of the Light.
Markhato was founded by the Soul Singers Guild fourteen hundred years ago. The legend in the Guild is that the fabled secret founder of the Soul Singers Guild climbed what's now known as the Tower of Markhato and cast his Soul Song into what was at the time a long dormant volcano. The purpose was to open another door to the Verge so he could start a second school. Instead, the power of his song melded with the power in the earth and a spectacular fountain of light shot a hundred yards into the air and has existed there behind the veil ever since. From a distance it appears brilliant white, but seen up close it is a riot of colors. No one knows what exactly happened, but it snubs its nose at the laws physics and reality. You can stand on the rim of the tower and feel a slight warm breeze, but if you stick your hand into the light, it will be burnt to ash.
Because if its enormity, supernaturals and humans with the second sight have both been drawn to it ever since. What started as a collection of pilgrims in tents became a shantytown, then a village, then a town and so on. Eventually the Fairy King cast his magic over it, removing all traces of iron, thus making it an official second sight community. Now Markhato is the city on the hill, constantly building up the side of the volcano in a corkscrew fashion. It is the busiest crossroads of the second sight community as well as the home of the largest second sight army in the world, the unbeaten legion, the Milleytes Lux.
Noting the vacuum in leadership in the ever-expanding city, the Soul Singers Guild carefully selected four wise families to serve the city as leaders. They trained them to govern with a system of checks and balances. Three Song Prophets are also assigned to live in Ma
rkhato and advise the families. Thus began the reign of the Four Kings of Markhato. And Markhato flourished.
Dwarves used their engineering prowess to tunnel into the Tower and use it as a source of power and heat for the city. This makes Markhato one of the only second sight cities to have power and first world amenities completely separate from the unsighted world's resources. While working, rumor has it the dwarves also discovered something wondrous inside the mountain. That's just a rumor though.
The ruling families in Markhato occasionally change as the Guild exercises discernment and influence for each generation to ensure the wisest heads are upon the thrones.
Overall, Markhato is a city of beauty, peace and celebration of the mysteries of the Song. Warded against spirit creatures of ugly intent and protected from mankind's weapons of war by the Fairy King, it is a safe place. Regardless of what storms assail the sighted and unsighted worlds alike, Markhato is always looked to for its steady forward movement.
"Markhato, the City of the Light." Lyric announced as they tooled down the road.
"I hate this place." Acheron muttered.
Lyric stopped at the gate in the large wall at the bottom end of the corkscrew path leading up the kings' home. As expected, he parked his vehicle and led Cadence to the centaur cabbies that pulled wagons up the mountain. He noticed in mild surprise Acheron had disappeared. Shrugging to himself, he paid their fare and headed for the palace. As they approached, he marveled at its beauty and artisanship.
Dwarves," Acheron said in a bored tone. They're responsible for the majority of the architecture in the city.
Where'd you go?
This isn't Sta Catoe, there are wardings all over. Hellions are unwelcome but just barely tolerated. Demons aren't just unwelcome, they aren't allowed. I had to be very sneaky to get past the gate. In a city where everyone has the second sight I wouldn't be very welcome. In fact, some of your Guild members live here just to handle my kind. So, if you don't mind, my Love, I'm going to make myself scarce for a while. I think I'll go hunting.
Just maybe no yetis? Lyric replied hopefully.
No, Lover, Acheron laughed that tinkling laughter that tightened the knot in Lyric's back. I think today I'll see if I can find a Dragon.
Lyric figured it was a testament to their time together that this didn't even make him blink.
Approaching the palace the two of them were astonished at its beauty. Ancient and timeless it looked as though it had weathered a thousand years with grace and dignity and was prepared to face a thousand more. The entire building was fashioned out of rough, dark gray stone. It had pearl inlays and what appeared to be some form of writing that Lyric didn't recognize. An odd and beautiful look.
Their wagon pulled under an immense portico and deposited them. Making their way in through the main entrance Lyric and Cadence found themselves confronted with a tall man whose formal tuxedo failed to conceal the enormous muscles beneath.
"The gate sent word of your arrival Master Lyric. The Kings look forward to greeting you in the war room after you've seen to your chambers and the disposition of your servant." His smooth voice carried with it the experience of a thousand such greetings.
Outwardly, Lyric didn't flinch at the title Master, but everything within him screamed TRAP! Suddenly he felt tired. He was tired of fighting, tired of lethal surprises, tired of not knowing where he would be in the next hour, let alone the next day. He sighed inwardly and recalled Lomong's teaching: "If you're handed a part to play, play it to the hilt."
Ice coated his words as he responded.
"She isn't my servant, she is my companion and equal. It is impolite to make assumptions about someone you've never met."
The large man didn’t even twitch.
“I apologize for my insult, ma’am, no offense was intended.” Cadence smiled brightly and inclined her head in acknowledgment.
The giant turned and moving with a grace that belied his immense size led them to the foot of a large sweeping staircase. As they made their way up Lyric took in his surroundings with a bored expression, though inwardly he was struck by the extravagant beauty surrounding him. Cadence manufactured an expression to match Lyric's, but in truth, he knew she was carefully making note of terrain and potential threats.
They came to the end of a long hallway and the giant opened two adjacent doors.
"Your rooms, sir and milady." He bowed deeply and retreated back down the hall without another word
Lyric nodded to Cadence as she entered her room and opened his door, to find Acheron slung across a chair kicking one boot in a very bored manner.
"What are you doing here? I thought you were going to go hunting."
"I did," Acheron said lazily. "My appetite is satisfied.
"Dragon?"
"Of a sort. When do you get to see Grandpa?"
"Funny thing," Lyric said stashing his pack in a closet. "The guy at the door greeted me by name and used the title Master. In a little bit I will be meeting the four Kings in the war room."
"Sounds like a trap to me." Acheron yawned. "Want me to scout it out for you?"
"I thought you didn't want to be here." Lyric frowned examining the garment bag lying on the bed. Opening it, he saw a black suit with a note that indicated it should fit and please wear it to the meeting in the war room.
"I don't, but this is where you are and so here I must stay."
Lyric hung the suit on the bathroom door as he answered.
"Well, though I appreciate the offer. I figure it is a trap and there's not much to be done about it anyway. I came to warn the kings, I need to at least try."
"Ok, well, when you're done being stupid, call and I'll come save you." The demoness smoked out.
Taking a quick, hot shower Lyric wondered what he should expect. Mistress Holt's songs were safely locked in his head. Those along with his repertoire and innate ability for improvisation lent him a great deal of confidence. He was the most accomplished Singer of any of his peers. Add to that his own battle experience and the fact that his companions were some of the most lethal beings he’d ever encountered and both were determined to protect him no matter what. He supposed there really wasn’t much to fear here.
A knock on the door heralded the arrival of the huge butler. Lyric saw Cadence a little behind him to the left.
“The kings await you in the war room, sir. If you are prepared I’ll lead you there now.” Lyric inclined his head and gestured for the man to lead the way. As he fell into step beside Cadence, he stole a sidelong glance and realized she must have had an outfit laid out as well. Her floor length gown was discreet and a lovely shade of violet. Long velvet gloves graced both arms and beautiful silver heels gave her an extra few inches. Her blonde tresses were swept back on one side and a large, gorgeous purple orchid held it pinned back with a silver comb. She noticed Lyric staring and smiled at him.
Lyric sighed inwardly. Two of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen and one was the bane of his existence and the other was a lethal mystery that indicated no interest in him whatsoever. The stress of their lives over the last few months kept him focused and distracted sufficiently, in spite of Acheron’s relentless advances. There were those times Acheron almost had him, like in the town after his meltdown, or after she healed his ribs and he almost gave in to her. Those times were hard and if it weren't for his training and commitment to his calling, he’d never be able to refuse her. Moments like these, though, where the danger wasn’t immediate or mortal, and there was nothing to distract him were torture. Cadence was beautiful and unlike Acheron seemed… good. In another life, he would pursue her with a single-minded determination and make her his own. He sighed again, this time out loud and Cadence looked at him in concern. He smiled and shook his head, focusing on following the butler.
* * *
Lyric wondered what made this room a war room. Essentially, it appeared to be a conference room. There was a long table surrounded by comfortable chairs filled with men and women wh
o looked impressed with how important they were. A huge whiteboard was on the wall and a motorized projector screen dominated one end of the room. Four men sat together at the head of the table and Lyric picked out David Westfall immediately. He had his daughter’s laughing eyes and easy smile. Currently he was engaged in conversation with the man to his left, a tall blonde man with wide shoulders who looked like he belonged on a Wheaties box. The two men to his right were less physically impressive. The one beside Lyric's grandfather had a black beard and jovial air about him. The last man had an unfortunate combover, mustache and sour expression. Lyric wondered if the sour expression was a result of the combover.
As the butler escorted them to the table, he politely cleared his throat. Everyone looked up and Westfall's eyes locked onto Lyric's with startled recognition. His lips formed one silent word, but Lyric saw it.
Emma
"From the Soul Singers Guild, Master Lyric and his companion." The butler pulled out their chairs, seated Cadence and removed himself from the room.
Lyric looked around at the silent table and found himself surprised and immediately on high alert. Adrenaline started pumping through his veins and Acheron's voice floated across the tie. What the hell is going on? Do you need me?
NO! Lyric shouted back with his eyes on Master Singer Johnson Chab, whose portly countenance was all the more noticeable when sitting beside Master Singer Soldeck Fishne.
"Master Singer Lyric, welcome to the war room. Do tell, who's your friend?" Chab's beady eyes displayed no surprise whatsoever. Fishne hadn't moved.
"Her name is Cadence, she is unable to talk. She protects me, though I don't know a great deal about her." Lyric answered carefully.
"How conveniently unfortunate, I would think your Verger is more than able to bridge that communication gap." Chab made a show of looking around. "Where is your other companion, I remember her being quite lovely." The smile on Chab's stupid, fat face was decidedly unfriendly.
"She's otherwise occupied, sir, but I'll let her know you asked about her." Chab blanched at that and Fishne finally spoke.
"Enough with the games, Johnson. To business please. Your majesties, this is the Fallen Singer we've been telling you about."
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