Asunder Read online

  The pain was hardly surprising, Melody thought, given the magic she’d used, and for how long. When Calder had first encouraged her to use the power, asked her to heal him, the effort had left her aching and exhausted. There had been no healing this time. That storm … the buildings … the people …

  She opened her eyes.

  It was dark, but Melody got the sense of a small room, with curved walls and a dirt floor. When she turned her head she could make out the shapes of two small bodies beside her— the twins! Fear iced through her belly and she bolted upright, summoning light to her staff without a word. The babies were dirty, she could see streaks on their cheeks where tears had fallen … and she saw their chests rising and falling with their even breathing.

  Oh Goddess, thank you, she prayed, bracing herself with both hands. It was everything she could do to not be sick. Pain coursed through her body to the rhythm of her heart, marching from head to toe and back again. Melody focused on her breath to manage the pain, deep inhales and exhales while she examined the room in more detail, fighting to ignore the sick smell of decay.

  She remembered this place. Not from inside it, but this had to be the magically veiled room by Rhodoban and Aellielle’s bedroom. They must have sheltered the twins here when the soldiers came for them. There was little here save a blanket and a basket … food, perhaps, or toys for the babies? Melody shifted her staff so her shadow didn’t obscure the entrance, catching a glimpse of a body outside the opening. She vaguely remembered having to move it when she arrived, and grimaced.

  “‘Ama?” Kedra, the baby girl, was rubbing at her eyes, blinking hopefully at Melody.

  “No ‘Ama,” her brother mumbled. “‘Ama go.”

  Melody’s heart ached, but she didn’t want her voice to frighten them. Instead, she touched each of their minds in turn, sending the memory of them in her lap when she visited. Recognition lit their faces and they began to cry, crawling towards her. She pulled them the rest of the way, grateful for their warm weight despite the persistent ache in her body and the countless bruises on her legs.

  She held them while they wept, placing light kisses on their heads and trying to silently reassure them that they were safe, she was with them, she would help them. The tears kept coming, and Melody began to rock, slowly, humming under her breath. What had these children endured?

  Melody’s thoughts brushed theirs, establishing a connection as simple as she’d shared with Attilus, little more than sensation and impressions. Her own tears fell with theirs as she felt their terror at being hidden away in the dark while screams and shouts filled their ears, then silence … they were trapped for hours with a friend who would not wake up no matter how they pushed or cried, and hours longer when Melody arrived and collapsed and wouldn’t wake.

  Their parents were gone. Their friends were dead. Everyone was dead.

  I’m so sorry.

  The truth of what she had done felt like a stone on her chest, making it difficult to swallow. Uninvited visions hovered at the edge of her consciousness— nameless faces screaming as they died, crushed by falling buildings, swallowed by the crack in the ground, trampled in the mud, or simply destroyed by the power that had come so easily to her command. Fueled by pain and rage, that power had come to her without song, without prayer.

  It was more gruesome than the shocking deaths of the Dwellers, and worse. She was responsible. She had killed them. All of them.

  The twins’ sobs had finally calmed, now they just clung to her neck, sniffling and shifting restlessly in her arms. Melody forced back her shame. She had not killed everyone, she realized. Kedra and Kendon were alive, and she owed it to Rhodoban and Aellielle to help them. Knowing what she had to do, though, didn’t mean she knew how. Start simple, she thought. Get them cleaned, get them fed.

  Melody tried to shift the children out of her lap, but their arms tightened around her and she could feel their fear, huge and nameless. They didn’t want to be alone in the dark anymore, and she didn’t blame them. Neither did she. She took a deep breath and kissed their heads once more, offering what reassurance she could.

  You’ll come with me, she sent them. Let’s find some clothes, and food.

  The children reluctantly released her neck, but clung to Melody’s skirt as she guided them out past the dead man and into the main room of their home.

  “Eww,” Kedra said, wrinkling her nose.

  Melody had to agree - three more bodies were scattered in front of the broken front door, and the scent of blood and decay was much stronger.

  Close your eyes, she told the twins, hiding their faces against her dress. She was heartsick at the scene. What had happened was clear - these users, as well as the one in the tunnel, had given their lives to keep the soldiers at bay until the children could be safely hidden. The killing had not been entirely one-sided, she saw. Another body beyond the doorway wore a soldier’s uniform.

  Her breath caught in her throat as the enormity of it all descended. There was no one left. She was alone with the orphaned children in a disaster of her own making, with no one to turn to. Jovan had made his feelings more than clear, she was reminded of his dismissal every time she instinctively reached for him and found only his rage.

  Kaeliph was dead. Jovan blamed her for that, and shouldn’t he? After all, Kaeliph had been coming to her aid when the other man had killed him. Calder had long since been captured, he was probably dead as well. For his connection to her, she had no doubt. The Dwellers had been slaughtered for sheltering her. Aellielle and Rhodoban and the others, burned alive or shot in the streets by archers… anyone who might understand the power within her was gone.

  She sank to her knees and hugged the twins to her once more, weeping again, weeping for all of them— for the countless lives she had taken, for these innocent children that had somehow survived, for herself. There was no hiding from this, no escape. Foley was gone. It was her and the babies, but where could they go? Was there safety to be found anywhere?

  Kendon’s stomach growled, the sound making the twins giggle through their own tears.

  “Hungry,” Kendon announced.

  Kedra rubbed her belly, nodding. “Hungry,” she agreed.

  I’ll find something, she told them, gathering them into her arms and standing. Every movement was agony, but she smiled reassuringly as she set them on the table. Stay here, all right? Watch me.

  Melody moved to the cupboards, hoping there was something there to feed them. Maybe they could go back to the Haven, she thought, rummaging behind the first door. She found several apples and some salted meat, and set them on the table beside Kedra.

  The Haven was a sacred place, she reminded herself, it was peaceful and serene and good. That was no place for someone who had killed, who had brought such destruction— someone like her. Melody wouldn’t be surprised if Goddess Herself turned Her back, withdrew Her blessing, and abandoned her to the consequences of her actions.

  The loaf of bread in the second cabinet looked hard but edible, and sat perfectly centered atop a square of parchment that glowed blue in her vision. It might have seemed ordinary to someone else, but to her it was a beacon. She had never seen paper glow with magic, not even her father’s journal did that.

  Setting the bread beside the meat and apples on the table, she looked more closely at the writing. It was a series of symbols, nothing like the language in the journal. As her eyes traced over the hastily scrawled sigils, Melody could hear Aellielle’s voice in her thoughts, desperate and hurried and heartbroken.

  Melody, if you have found this, we are dead. I pray only that my children live, and that they are safe in your care. I know there is danger, I know you are little more than a child yourself, but I would ask one favor. Please, take my children to my ancestors. Lianodel resides in the Deep Woods, where the river divides the mountains. She is my grandmother. Only remember her name and you shall find her. Goddess grant you strength.

  The parchment turned to ash when Aellielle’s voice sto
pped, and Melody brushed her hand on her skirt, trying not to see the memory of the burning Elven woman in her mind’s eye. A journey to the Deep Woods would not be easy, she knew, especially with the children, but she had left them no other home. Melody cut some of the bread and an apple into pieces the children could manage. There was no redemption for what she had done, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t try. She put the rest of the food in her pack.

  She would do this. She would bring the twins to the Deep Woods and find this Lianodel woman. She wouldn’t think about how young she really was, or what dangers might find them along the way. She would keep the babies as safe as she could - without risking the use of her magic. Melody shuddered at the possibility of letting them or anyone else suffer again because of her. Beyond that she did not know, but it was a start.

  The children ate their bread and fruit in their parents’ bedroom - the only room with no dead bodies - while Melody sat beside them and mended her torn dress by the light of her staff. She tried not to remember how Garen had ripped it from her, what he had done— but the images crowded the edge of her mind alongside those of her own violence. Finding some measure of peace in concentration, Melody took the time to tame her riot of windblown black curls with her fingers before coaxing it into a familiar braid. Finally, she found the children’s boots and packed what extra clothes she could find for them alongside the remainder of the food.

  Emerging into the city was easier imagined than done - what hadn’t collapsed entirely was full of rubble and bodies, a fact not lost on the twins, who clung so tightly to Melody’s legs she had difficulty walking.

  It’s all right, she tried to reassure them, but she didn’t believe her own words. How could any part of these smoldering ruins be anything but wrong?

  It was well past midday when they finished picking their way free of the warehouse area. There was no trace of clouds, just late afternoon sun illuminating the ruins of the city. Faint smells of smoke and mud and death threatened to sicken her, and the twins kept their faces in her skirts as often as they could.

  Melody stopped, remembering Aellielle’s message: “Only remember her name and you will find her.”

  Lianodel, she thought, and a faint blue glow hovered near the ground at the edge of her vision. She turned from side to side, testing it, and the light stayed true. Melody gave silent thanks for whatever magic Aellielle had used, and began to shepherd the children through what remained of the city streets. Every step was a reminder of what she had done, and her stomach twisted as she led the twins around the endless bodies, the scattered stones of crumbled buildings, and the crack in the earth.

  A flash and flicker of blue in the distance caught her attention. It was not the gentle glow of Aellielle’s guiding magic, this was brighter and more constant. A survivor, perhaps? She turned her full attention to it.

  There, on the hill, where once stood the keep of Earl Ving. Melody’s heart beat faster, both with the memory of calling the lightning to kill him, and with anxious hope that someone might have lived through her terrible storm. She led the children towards it.

  It was dusk when she and the twins reached the pile of rubble that had been the keep, and it was immediately and gruesomely obvious that there were no survivors to be found here. Yet the flare of magic still shone, bright and undeniable. Stomach-churning guilt aside, Melody would not leave until she knew what it was.

  The babies clung to her as she looked, refusing to follow behind as they crawled over stones and under broken wooden beams. Finally, near the center of the destroyed building, she found it. Submerged in mud, half buried under what might have once been a table, the sword announced itself with a surge of power the moment she gripped it to pull it free.

  Melody gasped as the magic sent shivers up her arm. Though similar to the power she felt from her staff, this was much, much older. She used the hem of her cloak to carefully wipe the mud from the metal, but it was difficult to see much in the growing darkness. She looked at her staff, hesitant. The magic was in her, ever eager, she knew she wouldn’t even have to whisper to unleash it. Swallowing her reluctance, she summoned light to the staff, and returned to her examination of the sword.

  It reminded her of Jovan. The memory was not without pain. His weapon had been more straightforward, she remembered, designed to kill and nothing else. This sword was meant for the same purpose, but it was much more decorative. There was a gem in the hilt, milky-white and round, and carvings in the blade showed the phases of the moon. The crossbar, too, was engraved, but with no markings she could read or understand.

  As much as Melody wanted to leave it and her memories of Jovan behind, something inside her resisted. She tore a strip from her dress and tied the heavy sword so it hung from her belt, but the weapon dragged the ground - walking would be impossible. Melody frowned. A second strip of fabric tied over her shoulder and across her chest provided a secure enough place to fasten the sword so it lay on her back, and her cloak kept the metal from bouncing too much when she walked. It wasn’t comfortable, but it would suffice.

  A chill touched the back of her neck as Melody led the children out past the edge of the ruins. Something wasn’t right. She could feel it in the silent air as they walked, a cold, familiar dread that even the children seemed aware of. This was not her imagination. Something was out there in the dark, something outside the circle of light from her staff … something that was coming closer by the minute, something drawn by that very light.

  She extinguished the glow and hushed the children as they began to whine in fear - of the dark or whatever was coming, it didn’t matter.

  The hairs on the back of Melody’s neck prickled uncomfortably as she hurried the children along, and a distant groan reached her ears on the breath of the light wind. The wind brought the smell also, a distinct, cloying odor of something rotten and foul - much worse than the freshly dead bodies in town - and Melody knew.

  She remembered the lighthouse on the island an eternity ago, the nameless horrible thing that had attacked her and Jovan and Kaeliph, how they had nearly died from their wounds. Kaeliph had killed it, but obviously it hadn’t been unique— and now another one was coming for her, already too close. But this time Melody didn’t have Jovan or Kaeliph to protect her, she had only the babies.

  She scooped a twin under each arm and ran as fast as she could for the distant tree line.

  4

  Orrin watched from the bow of the ship as Paltos came into view and the crew prepared to dock. The passage across Moon Lake had taken too much of his savings, but his only goal had been getting as far from Epidii as fast as he could.

  He'd fled without Lady Korith's letter, knowing that her plan to save his life - however well intentioned - was doomed from the start. Freeing the prisoner had been treason, plain and simple. He'd known it even then, but there was nothing he wouldn't do for Bashara. She would worry for him when she realized he'd left the letter, of course, but he imagined she would worry regardless— it was her way. He hoped to stay ahead of any pursuers and survive long enough to return for her when it was safe for them both.

  He rubbed his finger where his signet ring was missing, letting the memory of Basha's happy consent bring a smile to his lips. She would marry him, she’d said. Whatever troubles had plagued their love in the past were set aside now. She was the light of his heart, and he would not abandon her.

  The trip across Moon Lake, the last leg of his five-day journey, had given Orrin time to come up with a plan. As the second-largest city in the Westlands, Paltos afforded him two very important opportunities - work, and anonymity. He'd long since abandoned the uniform and armor of a soldier, so blending into the mass of people would be easy.

  He was no stranger to hard work, and there was sure to be something to do in a city this large. He would save enough money to get to Foley, and work there to save more. The Duke's search for him might not extend to the Midlands, but even if it did, he would not stay long. He would travel on to Porthold, and from t
here it was a simple enough journey to Estfall. That was where he planned to make a home for himself, and his Bashara.

  Duke Thordike's leniency towards magic users was well-known. Pledging himself to Thordike's service would both ease Bashara's mind about the nature of his work, and give him the chance to fight back against Korith's campaign to be King. It was a good plan, Orrin thought. Depending on how quickly he could find work, he thought, he could be on his way inside of a week.

  He found a room at one of the smaller inns, but work was not as easy to find as Orrin had hoped. With the Arena closed, fighters had turned to other livelihoods - stablehands, dockhands, even the smiths and stonemasons had more help than they needed. Orrin had been a soldier most of his life, but he couldn't risk working with the City Guard. When Korith sent men looking for him, and there was no doubt that he would, Orrin didn't want to be in the first place they looked.

  After five more days, the remainder of Orrin's savings was nearly gone. He had exhausted every option in the city he could think of, and short of begging, there was no work to be found. The only other thing he could think to do was farming, so he headed out of the city. Farmers usually had children for their labor, but perhaps one with a smaller family would hire him.

  The man Orrin encountered on the road out of town didn’t look much better than his panting, sweating mount. The rider was drooped forward and seemed barely conscious, swaying dangerously as the exhausted animal made its way towards the gates. Orrin immediately took a concerned step towards him, then hesitated— he couldn’t afford trouble, or attention from the Guard. The others on the road were moving to avoid the man, keeping their heads down. Orrin was tempted to do the same, but…