by L. Penelope
Half a kilometer away, in a palace built at the base of a dormant volcano, the king stone accepts the sacrifice and shatters.
* * *
Zeli stood just as Gilmer taught her, with one hand on the obelisk, the other holding the dagger that was once the king stone.
No spirits penetrated the obelisk room, even with the doorway smashed open in invitation. All the same, Varten never once let go. His hands kept a firm but gentle grip on her waist. He’d moved to brace her this way when she began shaking. She hadn’t thought it would take great effort to whisper the words of the blood spell over and over, pouring her heart and soul and Song into its execution, but it had. Varten’s touch might be all that was keeping her upright.
Her Song was full—and while blood spells didn’t require Songs, the magical workings necessary to undo what had been done by the True Father was something more than blood magic. Not quite the amalgam magic Gilmer had spoken of, but similar in its way.
“My sister Dahlia first discovered how to combine the magics in this way,” Gilmer had told her back in his Archives, as he stood just like this while Zeli watched and listened and learned.
“In the north, they were also putting together this knowledge, so I suppose we’ll never know who was really first, but Dahlia had followers, acolytes of her own whom she taught. We, her sisters and brothers, warned her against it but she did it anyway. She was the healer and wanted her followers to be safe and healthy.”
As he spoke, the red of the obelisk appeared to deepen, and the caldera itself—the solid, gem-like substance—shifted like liquid beneath the surface. Gilmer repeated the words of the spell slowly, over and over, for what seemed like hours until she could repeat them, too. Until her tone and intonation were perfect though she didn’t understand the language she spoke. The demonstration, the transfer of knowledge had gone on for a long time, during which, she’d focused on her fear. Imagined it leaving her body, freeing her.
Gilmer told her that the sacrifice would take on an avatar or embodiment. Something to represent the loss in the material world, for that was the way of this type of magic. For Zeli, the form of that avatar was breath.
As her lungs worked, mouthing the words of the spell and pulling in the needed oxygen, the air expelled from her lips hardened before her. It solidified into a small, round object, colorless but still visible hovering before her. She longed to reach out and touch it, but didn’t dare.
Gilmer’s words grew stronger and louder. They vibrated her bones, making her shake and shake, and as he spoke, the colorless, floating ball turned as red as the obelisk.
Zeli’s heart was beating so fast, it made her chest hurt. She gulped for air as her skeleton rattled inside her. Then the embodiment of her sacrifice shattered into a million pieces, which all dissolved back into air.
She wobbled on her feet. Then fell to her knees. And just like that, it was back.
Her Song.
It snapped back into her body like a magnet drawn to iron, and filled up all the empty spaces in her soul. She reached for it tentatively, not quite believing that she was whole again. Earthsong was there, its infinite sea swelling and rocking, waiting for her, it seemed. So she sucked the energy into her Song, filling herself to the brim, testing her limits the way she used to do as a child.
The air against her skin felt different. Its moisture invisible but tangible. Heartbeats thundered in her ear: Gilmer’s, Varten’s, and Yllis’s—or at least the body he wore.
Pushing out further, she sensed the acolytes still hovering outside the Archives’ door. In the streets beyond, the Rumpus’s revelers’ joy and merriment and frustration and doubt and hope and fear swirled in an endless dance.
It was like she could touch the birds overhead, the nocturnal ones hunting for their evening’s meal. The prey scuttling across the earth. Creatures she hadn’t thought of for so long were now imprinting themselves on her senses. The world was so loud.
The life and vitality of every living thing that existed was energy that mingled to form Earthsong. Zeli had risen then, eyes closed, once again connected to life itself. And it had felt glorious.
In the obelisk room, in Varten’s arms, she began to weep as Song after Song snapped back into place in Lagrimari people all across the city. All across the country, reaching into Lagrimar and all of the citizens still residing there. Connected as she was to Earthsong via the obelisk, using its enormous, magnifying power, the indescribable joy of every man and woman and child who received their Song back was palpable for her.
She became one with their wonder. She sank into their delight as the broken were healed. Her people were whole once more.
In her hand, the dagger became too heavy to hold and she dropped it to the ground, where it clattered. It was a simple thing, not ornate or gilded. Something innocuous that a soldier might carry.
Not a single Song was left inside.
She thought of Yalisa and Eskar so far away, even now receiving their magic again. Gilmer had said that proximity was needed, but as Song after Song was returned, the obelisk grew in strength and reach, now able to send Songs back to Lagrimari wherever they might be. They would not know how or why, but what had been stolen was now returned to all.
Zeli released her hold on the obelisk next. She tore herself away from the power, and fought to stay on her feet. Varten’s hands tightened around her waist, a band of safety keeping her up, and then easing her down to sit resting against him.
Now, her own Song was spent. Varten was vulnerable to the spirits without her protection. She opened her mouth to say as much, but couldn’t get a word out. Exhaustion overcame her.
“It’s okay,” he said, whispering. “Just rest. I’ve got you. I won’t ever let go.”
She couldn’t physically move her body to protest or pull away. And so she decided to believe him.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
What’s broken can be mended.
A shattered spirit’s remedy requires
close attention and undivided time.
—THE HARMONY OF BEING
Tai and Ani walked at the head of a group of twelve Raunians, a truck piled high with selakki oil–doused blankets trailing them. They had developed this strategy during the last fight—split all the Raunians into units assigned to quadrants around the city. Each unit was further split into an offensive team armed with cudgels to fend off the wraiths, and a defensive team, watching their backs and covering the downed bodies with blankets or oil so the spirits could not retake them.
While the wraiths had a speed advantage, their superior strength was nullified when fighting a Raunian. Tai slapped his club against his palm, remaining vigilant. Ani marched beside him, swinging her club and whistling a sea shanty. She’d donned a prosthetic that looked like a claw and used both to disable the wraiths while her crewmember, Ena, followed with the blanket. Flanking them were their respective second mates, Mik and Leo.
With a screech, a wraith darted from an alley. Tai kicked a leg out, tripping the man, then thwacked him with the club. Mik and Leo were taking on three more and soon had them down. The wraiths were quickly dragged together and a blanket thrown over them.
It was slow work, moving across the city, section by section, taking on those who attacked them. Rosira was a city of hills, unlike flat Raun, and Tai’s unit was mostly quiet as they climbed and descended going from block to block. Everyone was focused and watchful, some more eager for the fight than others.
Ani cackled with glee when two wraiths raced toward her. Tai groaned, moving to her side so that she wouldn’t be outmatched. They took them down handily. Each Raunian also carried a container of oil on them—there were only so many blankets, after all. Since the defensive team was all busy, Tai poured oil over the downed wraiths and kept moving.
A commotion behind him had him turning, club raised. A small figure with a crown of white hair moved toward them swiftly. Tai nudged his sister who spun around to see.
“What is she doing here?
” Ani hissed.
“Did you expect her to sit this one out?”
Ani huffed in annoyance as their mother approached. Only two of the king’s guard were with Pia, the rest must be with other units working to protect the city.
Pia held a staff that was taller than her. She wielded it with the expert hands of someone advanced in the martial art of daipuna, twirling it menacingly as she stalked forward.
“We don’t need your help,” Ani called out over her shoulder as she searched the dark shadows between buildings for wraiths.
“I’m the king, I can do what I want,” Pia spat. “I see you’re speaking to me now?”
Ani crossed her arms defiantly. They turned a corner to find a dozen wraiths spread out across the street tearing up cobblestones and pulling out chunks of stucco from a nearby house. All three members of the Summerhawk family raced forward to deal with this scourge.
Clubs and staff flying, they delivered beatings to the creatures. Tai felt some remorse about the bones he was breaking, knowing that they would be felt by the innocent if and when they woke up. But there would be no waking if they couldn’t get a handle on the stream of spirits.
Across the street, a group of Lagrimari emerged from what looked like a basement. Leaving his mother and sister to deal with the few remaining wraiths, he approached. The two women and one man were shouting excitedly in their language, but Tai couldn’t understand. He shook his head, pointing to his ear.
The man held out his hand, palm up and a flicker of flame appeared over it. Tai’s brows rose.
“You have your Song?”
The women chattered excitedly as a strong breeze rose and blew out the flame. They were all smiling joyously. Tai motioned for them to come and join the unit. They had come across a few Elsirans who hadn’t made it to shelters. If they found some more, it looked like these folks could help protect them from being possessed.
“We’re out of blankets,” someone shouted from the truck.
Pia and Ani returned to his side. “Who are they?” his mother asked.
“They’ve got their Songs back, looks like.”
She grinned and turned to one of her guards. “Get them on the truck. Any new wraiths we defeat should be loaded up and the Singers can keep them down.” The man ran off to follow her orders.
“Will that work? Singers aren’t immune from wraith strength like we are,” Tai said.
“No, but your young friend back at the palace said they can put people to sleep and keep them like that. We just need the wraiths disabled.”
Tai nodded. That must have been Darvyn. He had many tricks up his sleeve, Tai just hoped these Singers could manage it.
As they continued their patrol, more Lagrimari joined them, emerging from their hiding places and looking for ways to help.
“Why are you out here, Mother? This isn’t your fight.” Tai looked to his mother’s tattooed face. Her dark eyes glittered with the thrill of battle.
“And it’s yours?”
“Ani and I are both to marry Elsirans.”
“Ah, you and the ambassador are getting married, are you? And no one thought to mention that to me.” Her voice was imperious even as she spun the staff and smashed it onto the head of the wraith racing toward her.
“I mean, we will. At some point. I haven’t asked her yet—”
“Why not?” Ani said, running up and striking at the legs of the opponent her mother fought.
“It’s only been a couple of months. I haven’t—”
“You need to lock that down as soon as possible,” Ani advised. “Behind you.”
Tai swung around and kicked out at the teenage boy who had tried to sneak up on him.
“She’s right,” Pia said, grunting as she swung at a large woman with vacant eyes. “Lizvette is far too good for you. You’ll want to make her yours before she wises up and realizes she can do better.”
Tai grit his teeth and took the boy down with a crack to the skull, then poured his remaining oil on the body. “So you two are ganging up on me now?”
“We’re just giving advice,” the two women said at the same time. Ani scowled and Pia raised a brow.
“And you,” Pia said, turning to her daughter, who was wiping blood off her club. “This wedding of yours has caused quite enough commotion. Since we’re all here now, you might as well have it in Rosira when this is all over.”
Ani blinked rapidly, her mouth open. “We … I mean … Well, yes, that would be lovely. I’m sure Roshon would agree.”
Four more of the True Father’s army raced down the street toward them. Ani seemed somewhat distracted as she fought, and Tai had to save her from a blow to the head. Pia’s solution had been a good one. He wasn’t sure why his mother was being so pleasant all of a sudden. He didn’t trust it.
He hoisted a body onto the truck where the Lagrimari sat hand in hand, eyes closed. He hoped whatever they were doing was working, or they’d have to fight off the bodies piling up in the truck bed.
When he returned to his sister’s side, she was looking suspiciously at their mother. Tai understood the feeling. This was the same woman who’d sentenced him to two years of hard labor for defying her.
“Since you’re in such an amiable mood,” he said, “how about ending the embargo?” Lizvette was a brand-new ambassador and if the embargo issue could be settled on her watch, Tai knew it would make her happy. He hadn’t ever broached politics with his mother before, but now seemed like as good a time as any.
Pia’s brows rose. “On one condition.”
The wails of attacking wraiths interrupted them, but others had them handled for now. He narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“You both come home for my birthday.”
He turned to Ani, who looked as perplexed as he felt. “When is your birthday?” both siblings said in unison.
Pia rolled her eyes. “The third day of harvest season.”
Ani shrugged, wide-eyed. While he and his sister were close, the Summerhawks had never before celebrated anything as a family.
“I’m getting older, you know,” Pia said. “I want my family with me in my dotage.” She spun around with incredible speed and smacked a sprinting wraith across the chest, sending him flying into an iron fence.
“I can make that work,” Ani said, eyeing her mother cautiously.
“As can I,” Tai said. He scanned the street before him. Fighting those possessed with spirits of the dead was no longer the strangest thing that had occurred this week.
* * *
“Use the obelisk!” Yllis shouted as he, Jasminda, Darvyn, and Oola raced toward the docks, where a large part of the True Father’s force was amassing. “Now that it’s awake, you will be able to feel it. Reach for it—allow it to focus and magnify your power. It’s feeding from all of the awakened Songs and will offer you more longevity and finer-grained control.”
The energy of the ancient caldera hummed just at the edge of Jasminda’s awareness, roused and restless after a centuries-long nap. Her Song glanced across its edges, still uncertain of how to best utilize this new tool.
All around her, the city was falling apart under the attentions of wraiths bent on destruction. Yllis’s voice strained to be heard amidst the noise of the chaos. “Focus the energy. They are beings of death, target them with life. Strike at them with Earthsong itself!”
The normal methods of attack using Earthsong—manipulating the elements of wind, earthquake, mudslide, ice, and more—were of little use against the incredibly powerful spirits. But Yllis had advised them of methods and techniques that had been lost for hundreds of years. Even Oola had needed to be reminded. They could conjure focused bolts of life energy that manifested as bloodred darts of lightning. Doing so was not easy; creating each one was cumbersome and unnatural, and they were unwieldy to handle. Without the aid of the obelisk, she did not think she could have accomplished it.
Jasminda concentrated and brought a crackling, red stream of energy into existence and flung
it at a trio of wraiths ravaging a warehouse. Her blast found its target and she exhaled in relief. The wraiths staggered and fell. According to Yllis, the blasts shocked their systems, severing their connection to Nethersong long enough to interrupt the spirit possession. The physical features of the three men blurred and shifted, transforming back to the original hosts as the spirits inside struggled to maintain their hold.
Earthsingers couldn’t eject the spirits, but in this state the creatures were powerless and the Void took over, keeping the bodies immobile and slowly allowing the hosts’ natural life energy to bring them back under control. The spirits were still there, but dormant—for the moment.
One of the Raunian women working with them broke off to douse the prone bodies with selakki oil. Dozens more bodies, hovering somewhere between alive and possessed, lay stretched across the pavement behind the Singers as they pressed forward.
As a wraith himself, Yllis was able to expel spirits from the possessed; he fought alongside them, pressing forward as a flood of wraiths converged ahead. Yllis was nowhere near as powerful as a Nethersinger though, but Kyara and the others had been deployed elsewhere in the city.
Early reports stated that the dead had been digging through the streets, trying to access the mostly underground emergency shelters. Overhead, the portal to the World After was still open, spirits pouring through, searching for hosts. The fact that the sky was dark and filled with the frustrated dead was the only bright spot. It underscored the truth that so many of the populace had heeded the call to go to the shelters and be protected. And with every willing Singer manning full shelters, the streets were mostly clear. The number of new wraiths being created was trickling to a halt as available hosts dwindled.
And so the True Father’s army that had already been created had turned from their human destruction to laying waste to as much of the city as they could. While spirits swirled aimlessly overhead, the wraiths that Jasminda and the others faced were intent upon destroying the docks. The buildings across from the line of silent boats had already been devastated. The structures were old, built of stone to withstand the raging storms of the rainy season, but now had been transformed into broken-down husks. Torn apart by the bare hands of the incredibly powerful army of the dead.
