Singer's Sword

by Cassandra Boyson

  Suddenly, the seven lampstands that, in all the wonder around her, she’d not thought to pay much mind to, twirled and drew together. In a fit of smoke, they converged as one and she was cast off her feet by the force. The room rumbled and when the haze dissipated, H.S. stood before her.

  “Long time, no see, Lady Hazel,” he said, “… for you, anyway.”

  She accepted the hand he held out for her and drew to her feet. “You are… the Entity as well?” she asked him in bewilderment, looking between the two.

  He nodded. “One and the same. I am his essence, his spirit. So, you see, you and I were already bonded before you ever entered the Cave of Nielsas. We are old friends now, are we not?”

  Unable to help herself, she grinned and nodded.

  “But there is one other you must meet before we may be considered well and bonded.”

  Before she could question him, he began to spin. Soon, he was twirling so fast he appeared as a spiral of wind. But as it slowed, she perceived a new figure in his stead. When at last the man faced her, it was not her H.S. at all, but another entirely.

  “I am sorry to be late, dear Hazel,” he said. “I was paying a visit to another world just now. But upon the cry of my Father, I appear when summoned, either to sit beside Him enthroned or to visit one so beautifully fragrant as you.”

  “Your… father?” She glanced to the Great Entity behind him.

  “Indeed, I am his only son, the Anointed One.”

  “The Great Entity has a son…?” she questioned in astonishment. Her hands flew to her mouth. “Oh, pardon me,” she murmured with a low curtsy.

  He only laughed. “Indeed, I am his son whom he created to vanquish the penalty of the ancient law, the one that makes you feel so unworthy to stand before him in this place. He does not like edifices between himself and those he cares for.”

  “But… if you vanquished it, why do I still feel so—”

  “Because you have not accepted this chalice as yet.” He withdrew a lovely gold one from behind his back and held it out.

  Eyeing it eagerly, she reached for it, then swiftly drew her hand back. “Is that…?”

  “Blood.” He nodded. “It is mine which I shed so you could accept it as freedom from the clutches of justice.”

  “Must I… drink it?”

  He shook his head. “Only take the cup, dear Hazel, and pour it over your head.”

  “Over my…?” She gestured to her head, swallowing in discomfort at the thought.

  The room quaked and thunder echoed. Her eyes flew to where the Great Entity sat in all his majesty. His eyes held hers, daringly. How could she refuse him? Accepting the chalice from the Anointed One, she felt it spark in her hands until she at last raised it above her head… and poured.

  More liquid than could have been contained in the chalice coursed over her frame, so warm and inviting that it felt as if she had plunged into a hot bath. The aromas of frankincense and myrrh arrested her senses and she soon found herself, inexplicably, giggling at the sensation. It was very like the presence of her friend, H.S.—that lively, raucous feeling he produced. She felt liberated in a way she had not since meeting him for the first time.

  At last, the blood cleared and she looked down at her gown, now glistening, white and new. In awe, she sighed up into the face of the Anointed One. “Are we quite bonded now?” she asked.

  He laughed and stole her hand to give her a twirl. “Quite,” he replied. But in the next moment, he was spinning into the vortex he had arrived in until H.S. was in his place once again.

  “Miss me?” he asked.

  Smilingly, she nodded at her friend. “But, why will you not allow Fredrick to bond with you?”

  “That is not my doing. The Entity and his son were not the creators of those rubies, but the creators of their creator. Therefore, we cannot alter them, due to our own ancient law.”

  “But… can I help Fredrick somehow?”

  “A better question might be, can you help me?”

  “Oh, yes, of course!” she cried. How she yearned to offer him something, anything, he might value.

  “Sing.”

  She hesitated, taken aback. “Was I summoned here to sing?” she asked incredulously.

  When she gained no response but the twinkling of his eyes, she knew there was naught else to be done. As he stepped aside, she gazed up into the fiery eyes of the Great Entity and obeyed his command.

  She sang of all he was here in this place. Her voice swelled through the room, echoing off the walls and causing the towering pillars to shake. Soon, every beast and figure joined in her song.

  “Hazel!” Fredrick cried.

  She leaped about in search of him, overjoyed he’d found his way into this magnificent realm after all.

  “Hazel!” he called more vehemently.

  Her eyes fluttered open and she was met by his frightened face above hers. She was still singing when she asked him what the matter was.

  He appeared almost relieved but a brow went up as if confused. “Hazel?”

  She sat up, a tune still floating from her lips as she peered up at the ruby walls of the cavern. The torches had sniffed out but the room was alight with a red glow omitted by the gems themselves. When she stopped singing, the radiance dimmed but did not entirely flush out.

  “You touched them…” Fredrick said beside her, “and they have chosen to bond with you.”

  “The Great Entity summoned me. And he has not rejected you. Only the gems created by the first Bashtiian king have.”

  “And you know this… how?”

  “I asked the Great Entity.”

  His brows met his hairline. “Did he say how to fix it?”

  “He… told me to sing.”

  “Well, what I just heard from your mouth was astounding, but I do not see how that may help me.”

  “Nor I.”

  “But, does this mean you are the one now bonded with Bashtii?”

  Her stomach sank. It could not be. She was not Bashtiian. “I don’t imagine so… What if I sang again—asked the rubies to accept you?”

  “I would not mind hearing that voice of yours again.”

  She closed her eyes and sang out an obscure tune. Immediately, the gems glowed in response. She asked them to accept Fredrick’s touch, then gestured for him to attempt contact. But as his hands went up, the rubies sang back in alarm.

  “Wait!” she cried. She did not relish the notion of watching him be knocked unconscious again. “They do not listen.”

  His head hung as he gazed at his hands. Then, he looked up. “Hazel, ask for rain.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Bashtii’s plains have been thirsty for some time. Ask for it.”

  “I don’t see what good it will do for me to ask, but…” She did as bid.

  Fredrick took her hand and led her through the tunnel system. When they reached the mouth, the downpour was evident. He turned to her with a sad grin. “You did it,” he said. “You bonded with the Cave of Nielsas, with the one who reigns over our kingdom. You are now bonded to the land of Bashtii, not I.”

  Her mouth fell open. “F-Fredrick… you cannot be correct. I am no Bashtiian ruler. I am not even Bashtiian.”

  “Yet, the Entity responded to your plea, just as he has with our past rulers.”

  “But… what does this mean? What are we to do? We must transfer it to you.”

  He shook his head. “There is nothing that will break the bond apart from death. Bashtii is at your mercy, Lady Fortune.”

  She stood, breathing hard. “I am so sorry, Fredrick. I never meant—”

  “Of course you didn’t. You were called. I have read the story many times.”

  She released a long breath. “Well, I… I will always be at your disposal… should you require anything. I promise never to overstep your command or use it for Kierelia’s gain. I—”

  Taking her by the hand, he scanned her eyes. “I trust you, Hazel. We will work this out.”

&nb
sp; When the rain lightened, they agreed to walk back, their horses loyally following along behind.

  “My ancestors used to trade those rubies for galmoira from the southern tribes,” Fredrick explained. “But then the Kierelian kingdom was formed and trade relations with the tribes ceased so we could be allied with Kierelia.”

  “Which is somewhat ironic now the tribes are Kierelia.”

  He nodded. “But I wonder if that was why the gift of voice ceased emerging in their people. I’ve often questioned whether it was originally activated by the lively rubies.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Well, it is written that the rubies of Nielsas were considered a most prized commodity in the tribes, but I do not believe they ever thought to link the gift with them. When trade relations between our countries ended, the rubies they yet possessed would have eventually been traded for goods with various other nations. Then, over time, their vocal giftings diminished. When you sang in there, the stones were quick to respond. Of course, you don’t possess the gift, but your voice is rather enchanting…”

  Hazel wasn’t about to correct him. She hadn’t thought to suppose her gift had anything to do with what had just occurred. She wished her gift might never emerge again. Trepidation that the incident may have altered something sent her heart racing.

  “So, you know my story,” he said, interrupting her thoughts. “What is yours?”

  “Well, I don’t turn things to gold.”

  “I’m sure you’ve experienced life despite that.”

  She chuckled. “Not much of one. I was just the unofficial errand girl, expert needle worker… that sort of thing.” It was mostly true.

  “So, nothing terrible in your past?”

  She shook her head.

  “Nothing at all?”

  She looked up at him with a brow raised.

  “Really don’t want to share with me, do you?” he said with a grin. “I mean, I heard all kinds of things about you on my first trip to Bashtii.”

  “Oooh, that’s right. And you used it to insult me.”

  His blush surprised her. “That wasn’t a proud night for me. But after hearing so many stories about you in the year that followed, then meeting you, I can’t imagine much of what I originally heard was true.”

  “Like my being a traitor to the crown?”

  “Right… that’s clearly not the case.”

  “No, it is not. A friend of mine had been part of a rebellion and used me for information.”

  “Sounds like a virtuous friend.”

  She sighed. “It’s difficult to explain. We’re as good of friends now as ever.”

  His ensuing expression bewildered her.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Oh…” He appeared almost embarrassed, a surprising trait on such a self-possessed man. “I suppose I was thinking you must be very forgiving.”

  She turned away, inspecting herself. “I suppose I am. But…”

  “But?”

  “Oh, nothing.”

  “But what?” he pressed, darting in front of her with a smirk.

  She huffed. “At the time, I just couldn’t bear to lose a friend.”

  “Even though they’d betrayed both you and the king?”

  She dashed around him. “As I said, it’s complicated.”

  He raced after her. “I see,” he said, perhaps having mercy on the fact she clearly did not wish to speak of it. “Well, I also heard rumors about your parentage…”

  That wasn’t a much better subject but one she was far more accustomed to. “Probably all true,” she replied.

  “They tried to kill the king and were banished?”

  She nodded.

  “But—forgive me—why aren’t you with them?”

  “I really don’t know.”

  From her peripherals, she watched him eye her. She couldn’t imagine what he was thinking. Had he picked up on her annoyance?

  “Perhaps King Zephuel wouldn’t let them take you,” he said somberly, as if working to soothe her. But how could he understand her doubts?

  “Perhaps,” she replied, though she knew it wasn’t the case. She’d been but a burden to King Zephuel.

  “What are you thinking?” he pressed.

  She raised a brow. “That you ask a lot of questions.”

  “It is called trying to get to know you.” When she did not respond, he added, “I revealed much to you.”

  “So, now I owe you?”

  He nodded mirthfully. “Honestly, I’m just trying to learn more about you.”

  “More like trying to figure me out. I see you eyeing me over there, wriggling your way into the innermost trappings of my mind.”

  “Well, you are fairly difficult to decipher,” he said with a huff. “You must have been well trained to conceal your feelings.”

  Stopping short, she turned to look at him. He was right, though she hadn’t realized it until that moment. Turning away, she continued forward again.

  “What?” he plagued.

  She shook her head.

  He sighed again. “So… what would please you for evening meal?”

  “You wish me to choose? That is not customary, is it?”

  “Answer the question.”

  “Well, I don’t know… I don’t suppose you grow turnips here?”

  He laughed. “We do, indeed, so turnips it shall be.” He bit back a smile, shaking his head.

  “Now what?”

  “Nothing at all. If you won’t share your thoughts, I’ll return the sentiment.”

  “Fine,” she replied with a returning grin. He wasn’t acquainted with her patience.

  20

  It was a fortnight before Hazel and Fredrick felt the alliance had been drawn up in fairness for both countries. It had felt like tiring work but both understood such things usually took much longer. Of course, if Armond did not agree to it, it would all be for naught. But she felt certain even he would be content.

  In the end, it had been a surprisingly pleasant visit. After Fredrick had exposed his secret to her, their relationship acquired a new tone. No longer did she think him arrogant and stuffy. She came to find he rather esteemed her, just as he had seemed to at the coronation celebration. In fact, it had taken some doing for her to assure him she was perfectly ordinary, despite the stories.

  “If you’re just like everyone else,” he said, “what are these rumors I heard about your possession of the gift of the southern tribes… that you once chucked Armond across a room with your voice?”

  Her mouth fell open. She’d not realized he’d been acquainted with that point of gossip. She liked to think it a secret since all believed she’d been cured. And why had he not just fessed up to knowing about it when last they’d spoken about the gift? “I did not chuck him!”

  He sat forward, crossing his legs where he sat upon the windowsill. “But you did do something…”

  She restrained a smirk at the state of him sitting with intrigued eagerness. But the memory of that night easily sobered her. “I was asked to sing. Though I hate performance, my guardian…” She gulped, the memory of her guardian’s death hitting her with new force. She could not honestly say she missed the woman, but she wasn’t heartless. “Lady Nora insisted. At some point, something in my voice changed and Armond went flying.”

  “Flying? But how could you have known you’d done it? For that matter, how did he get back down?”

  “Well, I stopped singing and he dropped.”

  “He… dropped? How high was he?”

  “High enough. I caught him with my voice and he reached the floor without a scratch.”

  He rubbed at the back of his neck with wide eyes. “That is incredible. I don’t see why you don’t make use of it all the time. I know I’ve annoyed you a time or two. You have my full permission to send me flying whenever necessary.”

  “I would, of course, but it did not occur again after that.”

  “I don’t understand…”

  �
�I guess it only emerged due to the culmination of great emotion I was enduring. It wasn’t supposed to happen for another couple of years. I was even sent to the south to gain what knowledge I could. But how much can you learn without practice?”

  He eyed her. “How did it make you feel?”

  There he was at it again, watching her closely, attempting to decipher her. It drove her a little mad, always to be under his scrutiny. Was there something wrong with being a private person? And after all, she was sharing. “It was frightening, but it hasn’t returned, so all is well.”

  “Would you sing for me now?”

  “What? No.”

  “Please?”

  “I do not like to perform.”

  “Well, it’s only me.”

  She shook her head. “I do not care to just now.”

  “What are you so afraid of? I won’t judge you. Or… are you shy of me?”

  He was daring her and she knew it. But when she felt her face grow hot, she couldn’t bear to have him believe she cared so much about what he thought.

  She sang.

  It was a clear, sweet note. Fredrick’s mouth dropped open as he stole a sudden breath. She thought it a peculiar response. Surely, he’d heard plenty of singers before. Of course, there was the chance he was not a singer himself so was more easily impressed. Still, as his eyes brightened, she couldn’t help feeling… flattered? Unnerved?

  Without a thought, she sprang forward to cast him aside as a poker from the fireplace went flying toward his head. It scarcely missed the top of her own—probably taking a few hairs with it—before it struck the wall.

  Fredrick sat up with a long whistle, looking to where it stuck out of the study’s formerly immaculate wall. “I never realized how much I rifled your feathers, Lady Fortune.”

  She marched to the fireplace. “Who threw that?!”

  He turned to her with wide eyes. “It was you.”

  She shook her head. “No… No. I didn’t feel anything.” Or was too distracted to realize.

  “Didn’t you know you were lifting and dropping items all about the room?”

  Absently, she rubbed at the gold bit on her palm. “I didn’t…” She looked up at him, feeling more vulnerable than she had in a long while. “Was I really?”