by C S Vass
“You’re the one who’s forgotten,” she said. “But I expect you’ll be reminded soon.”
“Where are they?” he roared.
“Fuck you.”
The silence that followed was a mutual acknowledgement of the end of their relationship.
“I never should have saved you,” Rodrick said with pure hatred.
“Saved me,” she snorted. “What have you ever saved me from?”
“From the monsters who killed our parents.”
She surely misheard that. She absorbed the blow as if he had struck her again. Finally she managed to ask, “What?”
“You think that they died peacefully in their sleep?” Rodrick said. “They didn’t. They were murdered by—”
A powerful and complex chord blasted through every corner of the school.
“What’s that?” Rodrick asked, panic sneaking into his voice. He turned to Fiona. “What are they doing?”
“What do you mean they were murdered?” Fiona asked, her voice rising.
Rodrick didn’t seem to hear her. He leapt towards the door and immediately tried to open it, but it did not budge. “Sealed with magic,” he swore.
A second chord from an organ blasted over them, even more intricate than the first. Notes on top of notes octaves apart echoed through the room.
Rodrick began kicking at the door like a madman as the music began to play in earnest. Fiona didn’t know what was happening, but there was true strength in those notes. She had never heard anything like it. There was an ancient ache in her bones, some ancestral memory of a power so dangerous that it had been sealed into her blood as a memory from a distant past.
Rodrick took a flute out from underneath his forest green cloak and began to play. She never knew he could work magic. More lies. She rose, and while her muscles screamed with protest she got out of the bed.
Rodrick was too busy working his song to see her sneak behind him, and she grabbed the flute while he was playing a rough series of notes to get the door open. It was searing hot, and her hands burned as she touched it. All the same she managed to hang on even as blisters formed across her palms and ripped the instrument away from his lips.
“I’ve had about enough of your insolence Fiona!” he shouted. The intensity of the organ was like a tornado around them. It felt as though several people were playing all at once. In the distance they could hear explosions. The school walls shook.
“I won’t let you make a ruin of this city,” Fiona said through gritted teeth. How exactly she planned to stop him, she could not have said. Her legs wobbled, and she was barely strong enough to hold her body up. But still, any time she could buy Shifter could potentially make the difference.
Just when she was about to lunge at him the door burst open. Geoff Hightower shot through like a spear, followed by several men. Rodrick turned and ran towards the window. Fiona reached after him arms extended. She may not have had a weapon, but there was no way she was going to allow him to escape. She would wrestle him to the ground and hold him there with her bare hands if she had to.
Arms stretched like an eagle she prepared to tackle him to the ground when a flash of silver sliced through the air. Hot pain seared Fiona’s face, though she could not have said what happened as she fell to the ground. There was shouting, and a warm wet trickle that blinded her eyes.
The shattering sound of glass breaking stirred her, but Fiona could not see. She tried to move her legs, but felt as though she were paralyzed. There was more shouting, but she could not make out words.
She put her hand on her face, and felt that it was covered in blood.
Chapter Twenty-One
Fiona knew that she had been asleep for an extremely long time. When she finally came to the first thing she realized was that the pain of cuts and bruises had been replaced by the pain of cramps and aches from staying too long in bed. She opened her eyes, to the sad smiling face of Donyo Brownwater.
“Quite an ordeal we’ve all been through,” Donyo said. “I’m happy to see us both on the other side of it with heads firmly attached to our bodies.”
“What happened?” Fiona asked.
Donyo chuckled. “What happened? What hasn’t happened might be an easier story to tell you. Though I suppose taking the easy route doesn’t exactly fit your personality.” He turned to the open door and called, “Shifter! She’s awake! Get the others!”
“Where are we?” Fiona asked groggily.
“Why, your favorite place in the entire world,” Donyo said with a smile suggesting that it was anything but. “Sun Circle’s castle. I took the liberty of making sure you had different sleeping arrangements than when you first came. It somehow didn’t feel like you would appreciate that.”
Fiona tried to smile, but she found she wasn’t in the mood for jokes.
“I will tell you outright,” Donyo said. “You’re fortunate to still have a head, however, it was a near thing. You were cut with a silver blade and, well…here see for yourself.”
Donyo held up a small reflecting mirror for her to look in. There was a long ugly cut that extended straight across her forehead. The surrounding skin was brittle, almost petrified. But it wasn’t just her injury. Had those forest green eyes ever looked so tired? Had her pale skin ever truly been that pale? Who had she become?
“It will heal,” Donyo said, sensitively. “But there will be a scar, to be sure.”
“I’m lucky to still be alive,” Fiona said after a long awkward pause. “Fiercewind…she died for me. For the city.”
“Yes,” Donyo said. “She did. A good woman.” Then he blurted out, “We were lovers once, you know.”
Fiona would have slapped him for his imbecility if she had had the energy. But when she looked into his face she was shocked to see tears streaming silently down his fat cheeks.
“Erm…really?” she asked. If she had ever been more uncomfortable in her life, she could not have said when it was.
“In another life, long ago,” Donyo replied. “A sad and stupid tale, one that I might tell you someday if you like. But not today, I think.”
Fiona nodded her head. She understood all too well not wanting to go into painful memories.
“What happened after I passed out?” she asked. “How long has it been?”
“Three days,” Donyo replied. “There will be a long tale for when you’ve recovered, but the short of it is…we won. Shifter destroyed the magical barriers that sealed the Moonwood away. They are no more. The forest’s magical energies are no longer contained within the city. The twins had been trapped in the Moonwood by Raesha’s treachery, but once the barrier sealing the Moonwood broke so did the prison Raesha had created. As for Haygarden, well, nobody quite seems to know who controls Haygarden but Sandra Redfire has been giving orders and so far nobody has seen fit to question them.”
Fiona strained to sit upright. “I can’t believe it. What…” she didn’t even know what to ask next.
“What indeed,” Donyo agreed. “If you find out, be a good woman and let me know. Gods know I could use a little direction about now. For the moment I’m inclined to listen to wiser heads such as Sandra and Hightower.”
As if on cue Geoff Hightower strode into the room the second his name was mentioned, followed by Shifter and Sandra.
“Fiona,” Sandra said, kneeling at her bedside. “You have done so much in service of the city. How can we ever thank you?”
“When I find out, I’ll let you know,” Fiona said.
Sandra closed her eyes and a painful look crossed her face. “You have yet to forgive me. I understand.”
“You fight bravely girl,” Hightower said. The old knight looked tired, but strong as ever. “Just as I would expect.”
She was in no mood for the compliment. She knew they were all just trying to be nice, but she didn’t see how any of this could ever be made to be right.
“What of my…where’s Rodrick?”
Sandra and Donyo exchanged a nervous glance. Sandra sa
id, “He’s gone, as is Downcastle. They’ve fled the city, along with Lovewood and some other Vaentysh Boys. We know not where to.”
“Not to worry,” Hightower said. “We’ll find them. You count on that. For now it’s enough to know that the prisoners they had taken have been located in the basement of Lovewood’s manor. They are weary, but unharmed for the most part.”
Fiona looked into the old knights green eyes, green like hers and yet so very different. An enormous feeling of guilt washed over her. “Lord Hightower,” she said. “I owe you an apology.”
“Oh?” the old knight said, a look of curiosity on his face.
“I eavesdropped on you and Headmaster Fiercewind when you were speaking with her in your chambers. I thought you were discussing Kevin Lovewood. Had I not been so quick to accuse him, maybe none of this would have happened the way it did.”
Hightower was silent for a long while. Surprisingly, a smile broke out over his face. “You were in the room the whole time?” he asked. “And neither Helena nor I knew it? That’s quite bold young one, even for a Sacrosin. You know now that we were speaking of Thrushling, not Lovewood.”
“Yes,” Fiona said. “By the way, what happened to him?”
The room grew silent. Fiona looked at each face, but none would look back at her.
“Dead,” Donyo said, after a long while. “He hung himself after the fighting. His body was discovered by a city guard.”
To her own surprise Fiona was saddened by the news. Monster that he was, and even though he tried to have her framed and executed, she had not been entirely able to erase her memories of him as a kindly professor. That made her worry. If it took this long to lose that image of Thrushling, then how long would it take for Rodrick?
“You needn’t apologize, Fiona,” Hightower said. “You’ve shown extraordinary bravery and leadership in a time when the city was sorely lacking in both. Those are the qualities I would seek in the Commander of the Brightbows, a title I happily offer you.”
The rest of the room looked astonished, but Fiona hardly even had a feeling in her bones. At last she said, “No thank you.”
“No thank you?” Hightower stammered. “I just offered to make you a Lord, one of the most powerful people in the city. You don’t want to think about it, at least?”
“No,” she said, even more certainly. The room looked at her open-mouthed, and so she felt she was obligated to offer more of an explanation, though she did not want to. “I don’t want to follow in his footsteps.”
“To be sure,” Hightower said quickly. “But listen, child. A man of great good or great evil might plow the same field. Tis the man, or woman I should say, and not the field that determines if it’s sown with salt or sown with barley.”
“Fiona,” Sandra Redfire said, “Given everything that’s happened…much uncertainty lies ahead. You are not obligated to do anything, you’ve done so much already, but the Tellosian Empire and Laquath can smell weakness a mile away. And there’s no telling what the remaining Vaentysh Boys might do. Not to mention the magical forces that will be unleashed on the world in the coming weeks and years. Surely you should think about this offer, and about the good you could do?”
“It wouldn’t have to be the Brightbows,” Hightower said. “We could create a new force, one that you can mold to your own vision. Gods know we’ve had too much of the old order dictating our institutions. Please, child, think on it.”
For some strange reason she found herself looking to Donyo Brownwater, the only one who had been silent on the issue. He simply shrugged and said, “You do what you want Fiona. As for me, I’m getting a strong cup of bitter black ale.”
“Spoken like a true man of the people,” Sandra said with a roll of her eyes.
Fiona took a deep breath. She did not want to think about this right now. She had too many hurts, and she didn’t even know with certainty if she could properly feel all of them yet. “Maybe. Perhaps one day.”
Sandra opened her mouth, perhaps to protest, but Hightower placed a firm hand on her shoulder. “Aye,” the old knight said. “Maybe honors me beyond words, Fiona. I’ll happily accept your maybe. Take all the time you need.”
“We should start by giving you some of that time now,” Donyo said, as he rose. “We’ll check on you soon. You do have one more visitor, however.”
“Martin?” Fiona asked, her heart racing. “He’s alright? Tell him to come in!”
Lord Hightower sighed and Sandra and Donyo exchanged sad glances.
“No,” she breathed. “He didn’t…”
She could not bring herself to ask. If Martin had been a casualty of her brother’s actions, she would never be able to forgive herself for dragging him into it.
“Martin Lightwing will live,” Hightower said at last. “He is in no condition to see anyone at the moment. But the lad is strong, Fiona. He will recover. Don’t worry about that.”
She gave a sigh of relief. “Then who?”
Donyo gave her a nervous look. “Your friend, the Lady Sasha. Would you like to see her?”
Fiona felt her heart ache once more. She had almost forgotten about her. There was so much to say to Sasha Rains, but there was still such animosity that came to mind as she thought of her. “Tell Sasha not now,” she said at last.
“Not now,” Donyo repeated, but with a look that seemed to offer her a last chance to reconsider. For a few painful seconds Fiona realized she wanted nothing more than her friend to run in and embrace her. But so much had happened. She didn’t know if she could handle all of that, not yet anyway.
“Not now,” Fiona said, more certainly. “But tell her not to leave the castle. There are certainly some things I would like to say when I’m ready. I expect that will be soon.”
Song Two: Fractures
in
Songs of the Eternal Past
An Epic Fantasy Series
C.S. Vass
This one is for Mom and Dad
Thanks for Everything
Chapter One
“Methinks you know not what you ask.” The sorceress’s eyes glittered like obsidian gems.
Fiona did not look away. “You don’t need to be concerned with that. I assure you I can pay.”
Suomo’s cackles were shattered glass. “Assure?” she laughed. “No, child, I don’t need your assurances. Whatever golden trinkets you’ve brought me is one matter. That is but a fraction of the cost.”
Wind blasted the shutters outside sending them smacking against the house. Fiona’s fingers itched. She stopped herself before placing them around the demon-pommel blade strapped to her back. A quick glance around the dirty room filled her with disgust. The old sorceress lived in filth. Chicken bones and dog droppings littered the floor, and a smell fouler than could be attributed to either of those wafted through the air.
“We had a deal,” Fiona protested. “I expect you to honor it.”
“The manjeko is not a power to be trifled with,” Suomo said. Her voice was dusty and withered; it reminded Fiona of dry dead grass being crushed underneath her feet. “You are young. In time you may regret—”
“In time you may regret wasting my time,” Fiona growled. “I’ve had enough of your cryptic warnings. All you need to tell me is this: are the stories true? Will the manjeko grant me the power that I seek?”
“Ho-ho,” Suomo’s laughs were little slips of wind sucking through her skeletal face. “The stories are true young one. You needn’t concern yourself about that. Can you handle the consequences? That is the question you should be asking yourself. When you awaken in the dark covered in terror, when your friends flee from the sight of you and spit on the ground as you approach, will you still be happy with your choice?”
Fiona’s forest green eyes narrowed in anger. “I don’t like repeating myself, and we’ve been over this more than once.”
“Buyer’s remorse is tragically common in my line of work, dear.” Suomo granted her a hideous, toothless smile that revealed bleeding gums and
contorted her face.
“Let the buyer worry about that,” Fiona said.
Suomo laughed again. “Child I promise you, I haven’t lost a night of sleep yet. Very well. You have paid the price of gold. Now you must pay the price of blood.”
Fiona took a step back, eyeing the sorceress suspiciously. “We agreed on a price of gold. We never agreed on a price of blood.”
Suomo moved towards her so quickly that Fiona’s sword was halfway out of its sheath and she almost cut the old woman down. Her leathery face gave a great bark of laughter as it pressed close to Fiona’s and filled her nose with the scent of onions and sewer water.
“Don’t tell me that you’ve lost your nerve, girl.” Suomo croaked. Without another word she took Fiona’s hand in her own and removed a misshapen dagger from somewhere within her robes. Suomo produced a glass vial filled with red liquid and pricked the tip of Fiona’s index finger over it.
“Whose blood is in there already?” Fiona asked at once.
“Sit on the floor, girl. I need a moment.”
“Take your time, and don’t call me girl, old woman.” Fiona hissed. Suomo ignored her as she continued to fiddle around a table filled with all manner of books and glass vials.
Fiona was surprised to find her heart racing as she sat on the floor. This was it. Two years of relentless searching. Two years of utter hell…and to have finally found what she sought right here in the Stone District of Haygarden after all that time. I’m coming for you, Rodrick, she thought. You won’t be able to hide from me anymore.
“Before the Awakening I was a seamstress, you know,” Suomo said as she worked.
“I didn’t ask, and I don’t care,” Fiona growled from the floor.
“Beautiful gowns, fine velvet doublets, I worked wonders with my hands,” Suomo went on. “Even the old Duke himself commissioned my work. I had a manor in the Leaf District and a husband and children too. With the Awakening all of that changed of course.” She cackled through her slanted mouth.
