The Last Lullaby (The Spellsinger Book 1)

by Amy Sumida

  The six of us set off around mid-afternoon on horseback. At first, it was kind of fun. I enjoyed the ride. Horseback riding was something I rarely did, and the scenery kept shifting, keeping things interesting. But after awhile, my backside started to go numb, and my thighs started to ache. And the mountain still seemed so far away.

  I would not whine. I would not whine. I “Do you have an ETA?”

  “An estimated arrival time?” Torin looked as if he could ride for hours more without a problem.

  “Yep.” I eyed the mountain in the distance. “An estimate, a guesstimate, whatever. How much more of this torment will I have to endure?”

  The knights chuckled.

  “Uh . . .”-Torin chuckled too-“we'll probably get there sometime tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Tomorrow?” I nearly screeched. My horse shied away from the others, and I had to sing to her a little to calm her down.

  It had been an automatic response, the singing thing. So I was surprised to find Torin smiling at me softly.

  “What?” I scowled at him. “Taking joy in my pain?”

  “No.” He smiled wider. “Taking joy in your kindness. What you just did for the animal, that was nice. I didn't know you could use your magic so casually. Or that you would for such trifling things.”

  “An upset horse isn't trifling.” I tried to act as if his praise wasn't a big deal, even though I was kind of feeling warm and tingly inside. Or maybe that was just my numb limbs coming back to life. “My butt hurts enough already without me landing on it.”

  More laughter from the men.

  “Laugh it up, you Legolas impersonators,” I called back to them. “I'll remember this when I hold that relic.”

  That shut them up.

  “And the assassin returns,” Torin observed, but he also smiled.

  “I'm not just an assassin.” I rolled my eyes. “I kill only if all other options have been closed to me. I'd much rather sway someone than murder them.”

  “How charitable,” Torin smirked.

  “Don't be a dick,” I huffed.

  The knights started to sound as if they were choking.

  “I am never a dick,” Torin said as he straightened in his saddle, and gave me a disdainful look. “When you're a king, it's called being firm or assertive. Being a dick is for lesser men.”

  I burst out laughing, as did the knights behind us.

  “Must be nice to be a king,” I noted.

  “It has its perks,” Torin agreed. “Not ever being a dick is the least of them.”

  “All right, get over the dick thing,” I said, and then made a incredulous expression. “Wow, those are words that should have never come out of my mouth.”

  “Indeed.” Torin laughed, and then glanced at the darkening sky. “Perhaps we should stop for the night.”

  “We are still in Malachite, Your Highness. Just a little farther, and we'll reach Turquoise.” The Fluorite knight nodded to a swath of tall grass up ahead. We were currently riding through a lush jungle.

  “Sound advice, Sir Arnet.” Torin nodded. “We'll ride a little into Turquoise, and then make camp.”

  “What's wrong with the Malachite Kingdom?” I searched the surrounding jungle warily.

  “They are Sapphire supporters,” Torin followed my gaze. “Don't worry. If they attack, I'm prepared.”

  “We all are, Your Majesty,” the diamond knight assured us.

  “We all are,” Torin repeated the words to me with a smug smile.

  “Yeah, you're damn straight.” I tapped my jerkin where my iPod rested. “I can sing a cappella if necessary.”

  “Excellent”-Torin smirked-“but look, we are out of the jungle already.”

  Sure enough, we were. As I'd been talking to him, our mounts had sped up, as if sensing that rest was near. Sweet-smelling grass rose to almost hip high on my horse, and grew right up to the edge of the dirt road we traveled. Grasslands stretched out flat for a few miles before us, then ended abruptly in a thickly wooded area.

  “There.” Torin pointed to what appeared to be a random spot in the middle of the grass.

  I didn't question him. He was a fairy king, so I trusted that he knew where he was going in Tír na nÓg. His knights followed just as blindly, even Arnet, so I suppose Torin had made an acceptable decision. Soon, I saw why it was wise. The grass parted for our horses, and after a few dozen feet, it fell away entirely, revealing a little lake and a small clearing clinging to its shore. Torin's height must have allowed him to spot it.

  Torin dismounted gracefully, then helped me out of my saddle. I nearly fell, and he had to grab me by my waist to prevent my face-plant.

  “Sorry,” I whispered as he held me tight. “I'm not used to riding for so long.”

  He gave me a wicked grin.

  “Get those dirty thoughts out of your head, Onyx,” I huffed and tried to push him away.

  “I merely smiled.” Torin shrugged and held firm, helping me over to a sandy spot near the water. “Here, sit down. I'll get your sleeping mat out for you.”

  “Thanks.” I sighed, and watched him head back to our horses. It was a nice view, watching him walk away.

  Soon, he had a thick sleeping mat unrolled for me. I scooted over onto it, and then just plopped onto my stomach, to give my ass a rest. Torin laughed, and got up to help his men with the horses. I watched the easy way he interacted with his knights, noting how comfortable they were around him. He treated our horses with the same casual care, doing a thorough inspection of their legs and hooves before he led them to the water's edge. I liked a man who was kind to animals. In my opinion, it said a lot.

  Once the horses were taken care of, settled near the lake, the men set about making a small fire and settling on their own mats. Dry rations were passed out, as well as flasks of water. I munched thoughtfully on a piece of jerky as I looked over the placid surface of the lake. Night had fallen while the men worked, and the moon had brightened. It turned the surface of the lake into a silver mirror, reminding me of Torin's gazing pool.

  A light breeze blew through the grass, setting it to rustling softly, and the sound became whispers in my head. I felt my mind drift away as my gaze went unfocused, caught by the glittering reflections on the water. The whispers intensified and keened, like a thousand voices singing. I shook my head, but they only became stronger. Wait, they weren't singing; they were chanting. It was a spell.

  Flames shot up before me suddenly, but I was lost to the vision, and I didn't flinch. Through the fire I saw the relic. It was being forged without the use of hands or tools, just tumbling in the forge, pulling itself together. The chanting continued as the fire died, and then water rained down, setting the relic to sizzling.

  Wind blasted at it, blowing the rain away, and the thing dropped, diving deep into the wet earth below. The chanting escalated, and the surface of the soil bubbled, little things moving through it, toward the relic. Stones. The gems rushed to the cooled metal, setting themselves into place. The metal curved in on the jewels, embracing them. Then, with a crescendo of sound, the spell set, and the relic burst free of the earth. It hovered before the gathered witches in a ball of light, absolutely pristine, and then it fell slowly into the palm of one man.

  “Elaria,” the man whispered, “do not fail us.”

  His eyes were blacker than the shadows surrounding him, but they were also noble, full of righteous purpose. They expanded till they filled my vision completely, and I felt like a snake, hypnotized by his charm.

  “Submit and conquer.” The man's voice rumbled though my mind, setting me to shivering.

  “Elaria?” A new voice echoed over the witch's. It was deep, and familiar, but I couldn't see who it belonged to. My sight was still trapped by those demanding eyes. “Elaria, are you all right?”

  “They're coming!” the witch in my vision hissed. He pulled back and slapped me across the face.

  I jerked out of the vision and inhaled sharply, my eyes shooting around the campsite, as m
y hands went automatically to my iPod. I stopped myself from pulling it out though. I needed to be able to hear, interact with the others in my company. I wasn't alone this time, and the thought was briefly comforting. Until I remembered the witch's words.

  “They're coming!” I repeated the warning, and all of the men tensed.

  “Who?” Torin asked as he scanned the grass.

  “I don't know.” I got into a crouch, and lifted my head just above the choppy crest of grass. “But they aren't friendly.”

  “Prepare yourselves,” Torin said to his men, though it was unnecessary.

  The knights were already urging the horses closer to the water. Then they spread out in front of us, forming a line of protection between their king and whatever was threatening him. I heard a low cooing, like a night bird, and then the muffled sounds of feet approaching. I lifted my head a little farther, getting a good look at the advancing group of soldiers. A group much larger than our own.

  “Perhaps fifteen,” I reported to the others. “Get back by the horses.”

  Torin shook his head and said, “I can protect us.”

  “Get behind me, Torin,” I said again, with a firmer tone. “I can end this a lot faster than you. And without bloodshed.”

  I saw the battle wage inside him. The one of his pride against his reasoning. Reason won out, and he nodded, waving his men behind us. The knights went to crouch beside the horses, hands on heaving flanks, soothing the already nervous beasts. But Torin placed himself directly behind me.

  “I am here with you, Elaria.” Torin settled his hands on my shoulders. “You sing, and I shall protect you.”

  Something shaky rose inside my chest, and for a second I couldn't breathe. Someone to protect me? Someone to watch over me as I sang. It was the sexiest thing a man had ever said to me. And it gave me an immense amount of confidence.

  “Thank you,” I whispered to him as I felt his magic settle around us.

  Then I began to sing.

  Soft and sorrowful at first, “True Colors” by Cyndi Lauper was actually a love song. It was uplifting, encouraging, a gentle urging to turn toward joy instead of drowning in sorrow. But I sang it to bring about an opposite reaction. I twisted the words into a heavy pall and directed it at the oncoming force. They stumbled to a halt as my magic seeped into them. The lyrics became accusations, hope turned to shame, and love to disgust.

  Our attackers began to scream, weapons falling as their hands went to their ears, trying to block out the darkness that was worming its way inside them. The doubt. The insecurity. It wouldn't kill them. That wasn't necessary. In fact, it would be wiser to let them live, and carry the warning of what a spellsinger could do.

  My voice burst out, echoing across the undulating grass, extending far into the open arms of the night. The words went back to being an encouragement, offering the men a chance to redeem themselves. The opportunity to change into something honorable. There was still hope.

  So sweet. So romantic, those simple lyrics. But they were devious when woven with my magic. They showed the men before us their inner selves, as well as the truth of what they fought against. Those poor men saw exactly what their actions would achieve if they followed through with their plans to hurt us. Tír na nÓg would fall, all of the worlds would fall, and the destruction would start with this very moment. The weight of it would be on their shoulders.

  They wailed, utterly converted, and then dropped to their knees whimpering. I stopped singing, though my magic still vibrated through the smoky-sweet air. Torin's hands slipped down my arms, his fingers wove into mine, and he squeezed gently as he eased his body against me. I felt his magic sink into the earth, grounding itself now that it was no longer needed.

  “What have you done, Spellsinger?” Torin whispered as he wrapped our joined arms around me. I wasn't sure if he was offering comfort or asking for it.

  The men, who moments earlier had intended to kill us, crept forward and bowed to Torin. To me. They began to beg for forgiveness. For us to allow them to live and make amends for their wrongs. They would tell all of Tír na nÓg about the true threat, that of the Sapphire King and his evil intentions. They would warn everyone who would listen.

  “I've opened their eyes,” I said to Torin. “That's all.”

  “The Jewels will sing, and Tír na nÓg will tremble,” one of our knights said reverently.

  “In joy and fear,” Torin added as he swung me around and kissed me.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I woke up nestled against Torin, my body aching from the previous day's ride, but not so much from sleeping on the ground. The mat had been surprisingly comfortable, and Torin had kept me warm. I guess sleeping outside wasn't so bad, when you had a fairy king and his magic to keep away the insects and the cold.

  After I'd subdued the men who attacked us the night before, we had interrogated them. Well, I guess it wasn't much of an interrogation since they freely offered to answer our questions. They had been sent by the Malachite Queen, Riona. It appeared that Rupert had made it home to Sapphire and spilled his guts. King Galen had then warned his supporters that Torin had me and intended to use me as some kind of weapon. It was the Malachite Queen who came to the conclusion that I might be the foretold witch warrior and that perhaps they should watch the roads leading to the relic.

  Queen Riona had sent her knights out to patrol her stretch of road, giving them orders to kill anyone they deemed to be suspicious. She had warned them to be wary, that King Torin himself might be among the travelers, and all knew of the Onyx King's magical, as well as physical, prowess. Evidently, Queen Riona was a shrewd one. Just not smart enough to realize that conquering Earth would kill us all. Anyway, the men had heeded their queen's warning and had waited till after we'd settled in before they came to kill us.

  After we got as much information as we could out of them, we released them back into the wild. They didn't pose a threat to us anymore. We advised them to get out of Malachite entirely. Queen Riona wouldn't take well to their change of heart. Speaking of changed hearts, I couldn't believe the direction mine was taking.

  “Good morning,” Torin whispered as I tried to extricate myself from his embrace.

  “Good morning,” I whispered back, looking over my shoulder to see that the other men were already up, and getting the horses saddled.

  “Just give me a few more minutes.” Torin pulled me back against his chest and nuzzled his cheek against mine. “I haven't been so comfortable with a woman in a long time.”

  “Yeah, me either, but that's probably because I'm straight,” I said in a deadpan tone.

  He laughed, but it was a soft, intimate laugh. We were fully clothed, and nothing more than some light petting had happened the night before, but somehow it felt like we'd crossed a bridge. We were a “we” now. There was something between us, something we were both acknowledging. And Torin was right; it was exceedingly comfortable to lie there together. I fit against him perfectly, and his thick muscles bracketed my body like they were made to curve around me. We fit, and that's very important to me. I liked to feel like I had a me-shaped nook that I could lean into on a man's body. Perhaps that was one of the reasons Cerberus and I had never got together. I just knew we wouldn't fit. Torin was large, but not as massive as Cer, and his body worked well with mine. It hinted that it would work exceptionally well in so many ways.

  “All right.” Torin sighed. “I suppose we must get on with the day.”

  He eased me up with him, and squeezed me one last time before unwrapping the blankets that had bound us together. We pulled apart slowly into the chilly morning, and started gathering up the mats and blankets. One of the knights came over and took our things from us, exchanging them for dry rations. Torin and I ate as the knights readied our horses.

  Then we were off again. Riding hard toward the mountain which seemed to loom much closer that morning. The night before, it had been a bright beacon in the darkness, and I had often found myself half-awake, turning tow
ard it. Now, in the haze of early morning, it still shone, but not quite as brilliantly. Yet no matter the illumination, the pull was the same. I could have headed toward it blindfolded. When I closed my eyes, I could still feel it, and if I concentrated hard enough, I could see it. It was growing impatient.

  We passed through the sage-scented grasslands of Turquoise and into the vast forests of Quartz. Torin said we were safe there. Even though the Quartz Queen wasn't exactly a firm supporter of his, she had a well-known animosity toward King Galen. She would not be sending men to intercept us. So I relaxed a little and took in the scenery.

  All the landscapes of Tír na nÓg were similar to those in the human world, just a bit more beautiful. A bit more magical. It was as if some god had turned everything up a notch. The world was more vivid, more fragrant, more clear. Just more. The trees in Quartz were particularly pretty. Their bark glimmered, each rough edge sparkling when sunlight hit it.

  A little critter scurried up a trunk. I watched in amazement as its claws loosened a piece of bark and pushed it free . . . to shatter on a boulder below.

  “Did you see that?” I pointed back to the boulder. “That piece of wood just shattered.”

  “It's quartzwood,” Torin smiled at me. “The trees are nearly as strong as stone, but their outer husk is brittle. It allows the bark to shed as the tree grows.”

  “Quartzwood?” I blinked.

  “They only grow in the Quartz Kingdom,” Torin said. “You can find unique flora in every kingdom. We believe it's a way for the magic to continue to evolve. All life evolves in one way or another.”

  “Fascinating.” I looked closer at the trees.

  They weren't the only unusual things in Quartz either. There were luscious blooms spreading out beneath the jagged branches, some of them venturing upward on waxy vines. Berries ripened on bushes in all sorts of strange shapes and colors, and the animals feasting on them were unlike any I'd ever seen before. Fur in all the colors of the rainbow, some accented with scales, and eyes ranging from beady to bulbous. I was so intrigued, I barely registered how far we'd gone, until the forest faded into a barren desert.