The Last Lullaby (The Spellsinger Book 1)

by Amy Sumida

  The desert had no life at all within it. No cacti or hunched trees. No lizards or burrowing creatures. It was desolate. Not even a tumbleweed to roll by and enhance the desolation. But the wasteland spanned only a few hundred feet before it met the base of Relic Mountain. I took a shaky breath, my whole body suddenly vibrating, as I craned my neck up. This was no ordinary mountain.

  We reined our horses in at the base of the monolith. And it was a monolith. This was a stone construction, not a natural formation. It was obvious now that I stood before it. Smooth, cinnabar stone soared up thousands of feet, without any crevice or ledge to break its sleek progress. Entirely unscalable. Its color was like old blood in the sunlight, and it seemed to be a warning. Approach at your own peril.

  The warning didn't matter. I couldn't stay away. But then, I don't think it had been meant for me. No, this mountain knew me. It beckoned me forward eagerly. I dismounted without waiting for Torin, and strode toward the expansive base with a determination that didn't feel fully like my own. The men remained where they were, dismounting only to stand before their horses and watch me. I could feel their intense stares on my back as I laid my hand to the glassy surface of the mountain. A low vibration, like that of a large bell being struck, rippled through the rock. The men behind me inhaled sharply.

  Nothing else happened.

  “Sing to it, Elaria,” Torin urged.

  Yes, of course. I needed to sing. But what? What would open this mountain's secrets to me? What would bring me the relic? Do I sing about opening? Or perhaps about crumbling? Do I sing about falling? Maybe if I sang about flying, the relic would simply float down. Then my whole body jerked forward like I'd been pulled. I had to brace myself at the last second, palms flat against the stone. It was just as it had been in Torin's glass room. I nearly brained myself on the mountainside, my nose just a hair breadth away. Which left me staring at my own dark reflection. My breath fogged over the stone, and that's when I had an epiphany.

  “I need to sing to the relic, not the mountain,” I whispered as I looked up the sleek expanse.

  The relic was anxious. I was so close, and yet I was down there dithering while it sat waiting on its pedestal, awake but impotent. It was angry at being disturbed, but even more angry that I was wasting time. It needed me as I needed it. We were meant to be together . . . meant to be. Surrender and conquer.

  “It needs a love song.” I smiled, and pulled out my iPod.

  “What's that? You said it wants something?” Torin stepped up beside me, but he did so cautiously.

  I realized then that even though I'd sensed the warning emanating from the mountain, I didn't really feel it. Torin and his knights did. The witches must have laid some sort of keep away spell around the magic mountain. Just another layer of insurance that the Shining Ones would leave the relic alone. That Torin had braved his way past an ancient spell meant to keep him at a distance, was impressive.

  “It needs to be seduced.” I gave Torin a saucy grin before returning to searching my song database. “Ah, perfect.” I gave his shoulder a pat. “Step back, baby; I got this.”

  Torin gave me an amused grin, and took a few steps to the side. He was still within my line of sight, but had given me some breathing room. It seemed like he had no intentions of leaving me there alone, and I have to admit I liked him more for that. I tried not to let it show though.

  I went about the process of preparing myself. Instead of putting the earbuds in, I draped them over my shoulders. So I could hear the music as well as everything else around me. Then I pressed Play, and tucked the iPod back in my pocket. The first strains of Sarah McLachlan's “Possession” started to filter out of the little speakers on my sternum, rising around me in an eerie echo.

  My voice lifted with the mysterious lyrics, flowing up the stone to the mountain's apex, where the relic waited for me. It was plaintive, yearning, an undulation of promises, seduction, and betrayal. I made my lyrical confession to the relic; I was lost without it. All this time, I'd been searching for it subconsciously, never knowing what I needed. Shivers coasted over me as I joined the poignant words to the haunting melody, and I felt the men drawing in closer to my back. The pull of my song was negating the push of the mountain.

  Torin's eyes were wide, his lips parted as I continued. The music was sad, but also hopeful, a sweet urging to the weapon that had lured me there. The words seemed to be written for us, me and the relic. But as I went on, I knew I sang to Torin as well, and I could feel the magic seeping out toward him as my voice echoed around us. I made vows to him with the music, sensual promises steeped in romance.

  The mountain shook, and I trembled with it. Everything that was me shivered- my blood, my bones, my flesh. I had this strange certainty that even my soul vibrated along with Tír na nÓg. The shivers turned into a low rumbling as the stone before me started to slide down into the earth.

  The entire mountain was sinking smoothly, dry earth crumbling in to fill the gap as the mountain descended. And far above, I could feel the relic responding to me, its anger softening. It was listening, and it liked what it heard. I sang on as threads of power reached out for me, strengthening the bond I already felt between us. My song connected us, weaving those threads into a cord with my spell, tying me and the relic together.

  The lyrics turned into a portrayal of my life, and I felt an ache inside me as the truth was revealed. The heartache of seeking something real, and only finding loss. The desire for more, for something to fill that emptiness in my chest. The sense that I wasn't complete, that I had been born broken. My arms lifted to the relic like a beseeching lover, but there was still a part of me that called to Torin.

  The song was scraping me raw, baring the secret of how I truly felt. My work had exposed me to the worst sort of people. So evil, they often needed killing. And killing them had long ago become easy for me. I didn't have nightmares anymore. I didn't have regrets. I don't know when I'd lost my softness, my innocence. The infallible feeling that people were basically good. That evil was an anomaly. Something that rears up rarely, only to give the good guys a target to aim at. An objective to prove how damn good they really were.

  That feeling was gone, and in its place was tough skin and cynicism. Yet I had still searched. I still wanted. I hungered for someone to prove me wrong, to be loyal and true and honest. To be a friend and a lover, without sacrificing anything for it. And I suddenly wanted Torin to know me. To see the cold reality of what I was, but also the tenderness I kept hidden. That small part of me that I'd saved. Tucked away like a nest egg for the future.

  I could see Torin's face in the corner of my eye, enraptured with my song. He was hearing me, but more importantly, he was listening. Responding. And the relic didn't like that.

  A sharp pain made me flinch, and I knew I had to let go of Torin for now. This wasn't about the love between a man and a woman. This was about the love between a spellsinger and her magic. The relic was magic given form, and it wanted to be mine. I just had to give myself to it in return, fully, in this moment. I had to want it as much as it wanted me.

  So I focused on the vision of it inside my mind, and sang only to it. The erotic words became so much more between us, a gateway to life and victory. Together, we could conquer this world. The song became a sexy slide into obsession, consuming everything that kept us apart, until two became one.

  The mountain kept descending, until the top of it stood level with the ground. A crystal temple took up the entire apex of the mountain, and its steps smoothly came to rest on the barren earth. The mountain was gone; all that remained was the temple. Four pillars of crystal supporting an arched roof. The walls were glass, and so were the doors before me, set on golden hinges. I sang on as I walked up the crystal steps, and those doors swung out toward me like a welcoming embrace. I felt Torin move up behind me, but as soon as I stepped foot in the temple, the doors slammed shut between us.

  I didn't bother to glance back. This was between me and the relic. Our relatio
nship. Our love. I walked to the pedestal in the center of the temple, singing the last refrains of our song. I reassured it that we would be together, that no one could keep us apart. As I sang the last chorus, I reached for it. But it lifted all on its own, the clasp opening, and spreading wide as it moved toward me. I opened my arms, baring my neck to it in submission, and the thick collar wrapped around my throat. With my last words, it closed its clasp, and the multiple jewels set into it, one for every kingdom in Tír na nÓg, came to life. I felt our bond solidify, my song and the will of the relic melding together in magic. The light of the gems burst out in blinding radiance, and I closed my eyes against the glare, letting go of the music, along with all of my doubts. Everything would be all right now that we were together.

  Then the light faded, and I fell to my knees. The doors behind me opened, and Torin came rushing in. I saw his boots before me, and then his strong hand came into view. I took it, and he helped me to my feet. My eyes shifted up his leather-clad thighs, his trim waist, thickening into a muscled chest, then those wide shoulders. I took in the pulse beating in his throat, the hard angle of his chiseled jaw, the trembling of his sensuous lips, and finally, his amazing eyes. They had darkened to indigo, and were full of emotion.

  “Elaria.” Torin whispered, and then his gaze dropped to my throat. “A necklace.” He shook his head. “I didn't expect that.”

  “Not a necklace.” My hand reached up to spread over the smooth curves of the polished stones. “A collar. We are enslaved to each other.”

  “No.” He frowned, his hand reaching out till his fingertips fluttered over the jewels. “Elaria, I'm so sorry. I didn't”

  “It's not that kind of enslavement.” I smiled peacefully at him, then caught his hand, and placed it firmly on the downward slope of the collar.

  It swooped into a gentle V over my sternum. As wide as it was, it should have been uncomfortable, but the relic felt soft against my skin, and the links of metal encasing the jewels were flexible, giving me an ease of movement. I felt the stones respond to Torin's touch, warming with my attraction to him. Now that we were one, Torin wasn't a rival. It could want him with me.

  Torin gasped, and flattened his hand so that his fingers wrapped around my throat. The stones pulsed between us, magic rising to tickle our flesh. His free hand went to my waist, and he pulled me closer with both hands. Remnants of magic were still on my lips, and it tingled through our kiss. Power and pleasure became one. Torin groaned, and lifted me, pressing me tight to his chest with one hand as his other continued to caress the collar. He was romancing us both, and the relic loved it.

  “Your song,” Torin whispered when we finally pulled away from each other, “it brought me to my knees. I have never heard anything so beautiful.”

  “Let's hope it will do the same to the rest of Tír na nÓg,” I said, and the relic flashed in agreement.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Later that evening, we were camped in the tropical Jade Kingdom. This is going to sound racist, but I expected Jade to be more, well, Asian. So dumb. Jade is a popular stone in a lot of Asian cultures on Earth, but that had nothing to do with Tír na nÓg. Here, Jade meant harmony, wealth, beauty, and healing, among other things. It was a vibrant kingdom, alive with color and heat. It reminded me a lot of my home in Hawaii. The way the climate changed, along with the landscapes of each kingdom, was a bit disorienting, but in this particular instance, I appreciated it. The night we spent in Jade was nearly as humid as the day. We didn't need a fire; we just stretched out beneath the stars, and enjoyed the balmy evening.

  Torin was on his side, angled toward me. The knights were spread out around us, but Torin's mat was laid directly alongside mine, and he was only a heartbeat away. His hand lay on mine, over my stomach, as I stared up into the star-riddled sky. Just another sparkling facet of Tír na nÓg. I could feel Torin's stare on me, but it didn't make me anxious. In fact, I felt calm, calmer than I had been in ages. Though honestly, that had nothing to do with Torin.

  My free hand trailed up to the collar. It vibrated beneath my fingertips, and I hummed to it in response. We were quickly becoming in tune with each other, literally. I smiled at that thought.

  “Sing for us, Elaria,” Torin's purring voice urged.

  “What?” I looked over at him.

  “I think it wants you to”-he nodded to the collar-“and we'd enjoy it as well.”

  “Yes, my lady,” Arnet agreed as he shifted over on his mat to face us.

  “Your song has haunted me all day,” Jameson, the Fluorite knight, added.

  “But I'll need to weave a spell,” I protested.

  “That's even better.” Torin nodded. “You need to practice with the relic, see what you can do together.”

  “But I don't want to hurt any of you.”

  “So sing a song of beauty.” Torin shrugged. “Or peace. Your spells don't have to change a person's will or hurt them. You can do anything, right?”

  “Right.” I smiled, and sat up.“And I shouldn't need a fairy king to remind me of that.”

  I had a brief flash of my childhood: standing before my mother, singing about summer as we watched flowers spring up from the earth. She had cried, and I'd stopped singing, instantly afraid that I'd hurt her. But then she held me, and whispered how beautiful my gift was. How she wished she could sing like I did, and create life instead of death.

  And what had I done with all that life? I had turned it into an echo of my mother. I had been given the choice of miracle or monstrosity, and I had picked the monster.

  “A king of the Shining Ones.” Torin corrected me with a kiss, pulling me out of my musings. “And this king wants nothing more than to hear you sing him a lullaby.”

  “As long as it's not your last.” I frowned, thinking of Cerberus.

  “What is it?” Torin asked.

  “I need to send word to Cerberus,” I said. “I want him to know I'm all right, and that Finbar was playing us. Cer's waiting for me to return to Kansas.”

  “I can have a message sent to him.” Torin assured me. “It will be done when we return to Onyx.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  He looked at me, then pointedly around us, at the knights waiting patiently for me to sing. I laughed in delight. I'd never had fans before.

  “All right, all right.” I held up my hands. “Let me think. Okay.”

  I began to sing a cappella to Ruth B's “Lost Boy.” The words were simple at first, innocent. Sad, and sweet, and a little haunting. A lonely child staring at the moon.

  The men sighed, and lay back on their mats, staring at me like children listening to a bedtime story. Torin laid his chin on his bent knee and watched as the gemstones in my collar began to softly glow. I felt the magic lift, but instead of rushing out of my mouth, as it always did, it was pulled through my throat and into the collar. The stones collected the magic, intensified it, and directed it with the barest of thoughts from me. Our spell seeped into the air along with the light of the collar's glowing stones. The soft feeling of longing was slowly replaced by hope, and then pure joy, as my voice lifted.

  An immortal friendship, an end to all unhappiness. The impossible promise that only a child could believe in. Yet it became real for all of us. Chills rose on my arms as the night seemed to embrace me. It was the magic, thickening the air into a physical entity. The lyrics became lighthearted, soaring up with my voice.

  I felt like a little girl again, playing make-believe, safe under that false sense of security all children are born with. The world was wonderful, and no one wanted to hurt me. Everyone loved one another. War was a foreign word. Along with hate and death. I looked around, and saw my emotions mirrored in the expressions of the men. My voice surged higher, and we all became children of that make-believe world, wild and young forever. I crooned out the final words, cementing the feeling of joy and freedom.

  The stones in my collar pulsed happily, and the peace of innocence spread out around us. Fairy animals, scu
rrying through the night, stilled. The chirping insects hummed happily into sleep Even the breeze seemed to blow softer. Then the glow faded, and I found myself looking up into Torin's night-blackened eyes.

  “I was wrong,” he whispered, and a flash of fear skittered across his face. “A single song from you is not enough for me. I don't think a thousand songs would be.”

  “Why do you say that like it's a bad thing?” I asked.

  “It's not.” Torin shook his head and gathered me in against him. “It's not,” he whispered before kissing me.

  But I caught that flash of fear again, and I wondered at it. Had I acquired more power than the Onyx King had imagined? Was I becoming a threat to him too? Most men didn't like being with a woman stronger than they were, be it physically or magically. Was Torin that kind of man?

  Whatever he was, he was a damn good kisser, and I soon forgot his strange look. I forgot about everything but the feel of him pressed to me and the taste of him on my tongue. Heartbeats through leather and wine lingering on lips. Later, I would remember his fear, but for now, I let the peace of my spell lull me away to Neverland. I fell asleep listening to Torin's strong, steady heartbeat. That was my lullaby.

  Chapter Twenty

  I was surprised when we made it back to the Onyx Kingdom without any interference. That mountain rumbling down must have attracted a lot of attention, and yet no one came to investigate. I mentioned my thoughts to Torin as we rode through the shiny, black, castle gates.

  “They know you have the relic now.” Torin dismounted and handed his reins to a servant. He came around to my horse, and helped me down casually, as if he'd done so all of our lives. “They'll be more careful with us.” He paused with his hands still around my waist. “With you.”