Dark Faery IV
The Cantares
by
Bridget McGowan
Copyright 2015 by Bridget McGowan
Cover design by Jeffrey L. Price
Dedication
For Claire, my partner in song.
Prologue
No one should treat anyone the way Rhiannon had been treated. That light Faeries would do that to one of their own was unimaginable. That the Cantares – the paramount musicians of Faerydom – could discount so pure a voice based on some imagined prejudice was incomprehensible.
Rhiannon was despondent. But kill her? Turn her into a dark Faery simply because she didn’t have a wonderful life? She was too good to waste.
Harry thought she would be perfect for Shauna Faun. Every time he saw her he felt drawn to her in a way he’d never experienced before.
Now as he saw her and knew what she was about to do, he thought he had to do something. She couldn’t be lost to the world. But would the light Faery want revenge? Clearly they didn’t want her. If they didn’t want her, they had no claim on what he did.
Would Simon approve? Harry had made a vow to Simon when he joined Shauna Faun. If he kept it, the world would lose a valuable singer. If he saved her, he would break his bond with Simon.
I
Singing wafted over the trees. One voice in particular stood out. It wasn’t louder than the others, but purer.
Simon listened to that one voice as if the others didn’t exist. The sound made him ache to participate in the rehearsal, speak to the one who had such a magnificent voice.
The conductor didn’t seem to recognize this girl’s talent. Again and again over the last year he had picked others to sing solo parts. She had volunteered, but he didn’t even pause to consider her. The disappointment became painful to watch.
The rehearsal ended and folk dispersed in twos and threes toward their homes. Simon flew off before anyone could see him, and stopped only when he reached a stream that divided the Cantares’ land from the Mercifuls’. The stream had a narrow, shallow section in which stones and rocks formed a jagged bridge. He often found the bridge amusing. Faeries flew over streams, and the rare Human who might trek through the thick bracken in this area could easily step over the stream.
Just beyond the rock bridge, the stream widened out and became deeper to form a pool before more rocks heralded a falls. Simon perched on the largest rock at the edge of the pool and gazed over the little falls, watching the odd leaf float downstream after the tortuous journey over the falls. He thought about the girl’s voice and replayed her singing in his head as he watched the water.
“I don’t recommend that you jump. It probably wouldn’t kill you, but it would ruin your lovely outfit.”
Simon turned. It wasn’t often that a light Faery could sneak up on him, but he’d been so lost in music he hadn’t been paying attention. The girl with the voice stood on the shoreline, her strawberry blonde hair lifting in the breeze. She wore a turquoise tunic and tan three-quarter-length trousers and ballerina slippers whose ribbons laced around her legs to her knees.
“I wasn’t planning on jumping,” Simon replied, smiling. “I like to watch things float downstream.”
“Why are you here by yourself? Don’t you have any friends?”
“Yes, I do,” Simon answered with a laugh. “But I like to come out alone sometimes. Why are you out here alone?”
“I don’t have any friends.”
“How can that be? A beautiful girl with one of the loveliest voices I’ve ever heard, and you have no friends?”
The girl blushed a deep scarlet and looked at the ground.
“You’re the only one who thinks so.”
“I know so. I’m a musician myself.”
“You are?” she asked, looking up at him.
“I am. What’s your name?”
“Rhiannon. What’s yours?”
“Simon.”
“If you’re a singer, why haven’t I ever seen you before?”
“I’m not from your clan. I travel with my fellow musicians.”
“You travel?” she asked, wonder showing plainly on her face.
“Doesn’t your choir travel to give concerts?”
“No. Usually folk come to us. I once went as far as the Benevolent lands.”
Simon felt pity for her. The Benevolents didn’t live far. The major events happened in their lands. Rhiannon had only been there once?
“So tell me, Rhiannon, why do you have no friends?”
“Because I’m no one.”
“How can you be no one?” he asked, wondering who had put that in her head.
“I have no family. My parents were killed accidentally by Humans. I have no brothers or sisters.”
“Where do you live? Who gives you food and takes care of you?”
“I live with an old woman named Mrs. Breve. She bakes things and I take the baked goods to the folk who order them.”
“Do you like to bake?”
“No, but I have to do what she tells me or she’ll throw me out. Daily she tells me it’s only by her mercy that I’m still alive. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t.”
“How terrible!”
She shrugged. “We’re all at the mercy of Humans. Any of us could be crushed.
“You weren’t with your parents when it happened?”
“I was, but when my mother was crushed she dropped me and I fell into a depression, so I escaped.”
Simon thought it odd. The Cantares were farthest from Human lands.
“How old were you?”
“Seven. I eventually wandered here and the elders and the priestess decided I should live with Mrs. Breve. I’m sixteen now.”
“So, you attend school?”
She sighed and shook her head. “Mrs. Breve doesn’t think girls need too much stuffing in their heads. I left school two years ago.”
Simon wanted to meet Mrs. Breve and throttle her at the very least. This girl who had such a gift was being ill-used with the permission of the whole community.
“Why are they so cruel to you?”
“Oh, I’m grateful. No one knows what clan I belonged to. We lived near here, but no one here or in the Mercifuls recognized me. They said by rights I’m an outlander.”
A tear rolled down her cheek. Simon was beside her in an instant and wiped it away. Rhiannon was startled by the speed of his movement, and stepped back.
“I’m sorry. I hate to see anyone suffer,” he explained.
“You’re the only one who’s ever been nice to me,” she said, smiling tentatively.
Simon resisted the urge to put a fatherly arm around the girl. After all, she probably thought he wasn’t much older than she, and he’d only just met her. He didn’t want to appear threatening in any way.
Simon looked up. The sky was beginning to lighten.
“I have to go,” he said. “Could I visit you again sometime?”
She nodded, “I’d like that.”
He took her hand and kissed it before flitting off. She watched his path, but he was quickly gone, so she hurried home.
II
Simon and Harry wandered through the woods on the way home from feeding.
“You’re quiet, Simon,” Harry remarked.
“I’ve been thinking about a girl I met last night.”
“Oh? A light Faery?”
“Yes. She has the most remarkable voice, yet her choirmaster doesn’t recognize she’s worlds better than anyone else. Apparently the Cantares don’t like her because she’s an orphan. They’re not convinced she’s one of them.”
“How strange. I’ve never known a clan to behave that way.”
“I remember – vaguely
– living in the land between the Cantares and the Mercifuls. I was apprenticed to the Cantares before I was changed,” Simon replied.
“I believe it,” Harry said.
“I remember no sort of banishment for being orphaned. I would’ve thought a priestess would be more charitable in where she placed an orphan.”
He related to Harry the way she sang, yet how she was rebuffed.
“What a shame she’s light Faery or she could be one of us.”
“Yes. I thought the same. I even thought –”
“Don’t, Simon. We cannot take them just because we wish them to join us.”
“No, but she was so despondent.”
“Despondency could at some point lead to circumstances where she would willingly join us.”
Simon studied Harry for a long moment. “I never thought you were so cunning. Come with me and listen to her.”
Harry flew off with Simon to hear the choir rehearsing. He made a face every time the soloist sang, but when the full choir sang, he could discern the lone voice that stood out from the others with its purity of sound.
“How could there be a doubt that she is a Cantare? There must indeed be corruption in the clan leadership to treat this girl so badly.”
They listened until rehearsal ended and went on their way. Simon stopped again at the stream, and the two of them perched on stones.
“I understand what you mean,” Harry said. “She’d be an excellent addition to any band or choir. The injustice! If I were one of them I’d go to the High Priestess if their own did nothing.”
“I can’t think what occurrence would lead them to treat her so badly. Unless her parents were murderers, there is no justice in it. Even so, it wouldn’t make her one.”
“Was there dissembling in her? Was she less than forthcoming about herself?”
“She’d have to be quite a good liar to fool me.”
They heard the wing beat and turned to see Rhiannon flying into the clearing. She landed, then smiled bashfully.
“I hoped I might see you,” she said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were busy.”
“I’m not at all,” Simon replied. “Rhiannon, this is my friend, Harry.”
“Hello,” she said quietly.
“Hello,” Harry replied.
Simon put his hand on Harry’s sleeve when he saw the look he gave the girl. Harry looked and gave a quick headshake to Simon.
They chatted about music and coaxed her to tell some of her life. Timidly at first, she asked them about their music.
“We’re in a band,” Simon replied. “Some say we’re dangerous.”
“Some say I’m evil,” she replied.
“Are you?” Harry asked. She looked shocked.
“No. My family was quiet living and they disturbed no one. People thought my parents were strange because of it, so I’ve been paid no mind. Why are you dangerous?”
“It might frighten you,” Harry replied.
“Would you harm me?”
“No. We do not seek to harm any of the Faeries.”
“Then why are you dangerous?”
“We are of Shauna Faun.”
She wrinkled her brow and sat quietly a moment.
“I have heard of them. The choir master disdains them.”
“Why?” Simon asked.
“Oh, I don’t wish to offend.”
“Please. We would know what is said of us.”
“He says you are not musicians. You use dark arts to mesmerize the audience.”
Simon laughed heartily. “I have heard many things said, but that is the best of the information. Those who have never listened to us invent the wildest stories.”
“I don’t pay him any mind, anyway.”
“Do you want to know the truth, even if it frightens you?”
“You’re my only friends. Tell.”
“We are Vampyres.”
She laughed in disbelief.
“It’s true,” Harry said.
“But you wish Faeries no harm? What sort of Vampyres would that be?”
“We feed on Humans.”
She laughed. “How can you do that?”
“They sleep at night. They think the marks are from mosquitoes. We can’t control or change them as we could Faeries, but it doesn’t matter. Their blood is food.”
“You’re making it up,” she said.
As if they’d read each other’s minds, both Simon and Harry let their fangs click into place. Rhiannon jumped back, startled, but she didn’t look fearful. The Vampyres’ fangs then slid back, making them look no more threatening than the girl did.
“You’re still nicer to me than anyone in our village,” she said.
They chatted a while longer, taking the conversation away from the Vampyres to the more usual Faery things of life until the sky began to show signs of lightening, and the Vampyres left.
III
When the next evening came, it was Harry who looked thoughtful. Zoe saw him in the reception area.
“Is there a sadness disease going around among the men in the coven?” she asked, having noted Simon’s expression the day before.
“Simon hasn’t told you about the girl?”
“What girl?”
“There’s a girl, a Cantare, who has the most extraordinary voice.”
“The two of you are misty over a light Faery?” she asked, only a hint of jealousy.
“Not in the way you think. You’d have to hear her. And her life is so sad.”
He proceeded to tell her everything he knew.
“Something should be done. I would not dare to go to Aoife. She’s been forbidden to have any more to do with us.”
“She isn’t their High Priestess anymore, is she?” Harry asked.
“I think not. And the new one would never have an audience with us.”
Harry was loath to suggest Teilo Feather to Simon. The Benevolent who had worked for them at one time as a collector of teeth was a thrall. Simon had promised to leave him in peace, and had only seen Teilo when the light Faery had called out.
“There is Teilo,” Zoe said, breaking into Harry’s musings.
“Simon has never –”
“Teilo owes us. Look how much you and Simon – all of us, in fact – have done for him and his.”
“Only because they were your family, too.”
“Teilo owes me nothing,” Simon replied, appearing behind them. “He asked no favors of me.”
“It isn’t a favor for any of us. It’s for the girl. She is light Faery,” Zoe said.
“True,” Simon replied after a moment’s hesitation.”
“You want to help her don’t you?”
“Of course,” Simon replied. “I’ll think about it.”
They all flew off to feed.
A few days passed before Simon made up his mind to contact Teilo. Either he or Harry kept an eye on Rhiannon’s life with the Cantares, but she didn’t see them again. Simon thought it would give her time to realize how dangerous they were. He didn’t want her to think they were grooming her to be a Vampyre.
Much as he might like to have her in the coven, Simon knew what it was to be snatched out of an ordinary life. Teilo had taught him caution, even if Flynn had done everything possible – as Zoe had once done – to convince Simon to turn him. He didn’t want Rhiannon in a sad moment to ask only to realize later that life wasn’t that desperate. He knew the despondency of loss, and knew it could be overcome.
Teilo felt the old marks tingle. It surprised him. The last time he’d experienced it, three years ago now, he’d wanted to make contact with Simon. He rubbed his arm, wondering what Simon wanted.
The light Faery flew out to the concert clearing, the place he usually met Simon. A few moments after he arrived, Simon fluttered down from a nearby tree.
“It’s good to see you, Simon,” he said.
“I’m sorry to bother you, Teilo. I know I promised I wouldn’t.”
“I don’t mind. I’ve inte
rrupted you, goodness knows.”
“It was on someone else’s behalf. This, too, is on someone else’s behalf.”
“Is anything amiss with Zoe?”
Simon was startled, and then realized that naturally Teilo would think of family.
“No, not at all. This is on behalf of one of your own – a light Faery. She is of a different clan, though.”
Simon explained the situation with Rhiannon.
“What would you have me do, Simon?”
“Perhaps Aoife would know how to proceed. She might know what might be done without the other priestesses knowing it was a Vampyre who alerted you.”
“I could, perhaps, visit them to inquire about singers for Dawn’s wedding. She and a young man named Gareth have been seeing one another. Since they are not yet even paramours, the wedding would not be for at least a year. But it’s never too soon to look.”
Simon smiled.
“If you find her when they rehearse, see if she doesn’t have the sweetest voice.”
“I leave that judgement to you, Simon. I’m not master of musical talent.”
“I trust your wisdom, Teilo. You are, indeed, a good friend.”
Simon flew off.
The next evening Teilo went off in search of the Cantare girl. He arrived in their village and noticed sound as he’d never heard it at home: Singing here and there, various wind instruments striking up at intervals without ever being discordant with one another. The beauty of it struck him.
He asked a pie-seller where he would go to find musicians and singers for his daughter’s wedding.
“You’ve come to the right place,” the vendor told him. “You can practically pluck them out of the air. But Master Legato is the best to speak with. He trains most of the choirs, and knows all of the instrument masters.
Once he had directions, Teilo sought out the master, who was rehearsing his choir. Teilo noticed, as he approached, that one voice did, indeed, stand out in its purity. Simon was right. Hers was the best voice he’d ever heard from a light Faery.
Teilo entered the practice hall and waited until the choir finished. He looked around at the timbered hall that had been carved out of a tree trunk. The polished wood made the building a work of art. The specific construction of the rafters and ceiling made the sound flow through the space in pure tones. Master Legato approached with a smile.
Dark Faery IV: The Cantares Page 1
