by J. B. Garner
I just had no idea what that was.
I was scheduled to visit Milady that morning. Now that the official statements had been transcribed, Verdigan thought it would be permissible for me to see her on a non-professional visit. Word was that the Sorcererum would be conducting an investigation of their own as to Milady's misuse of her magic, especially the use of necromancy to create my beloved angel. If I was to have any words with Milady, I wanted it to be before their archons came. There were many horror stories about what they were capable of in their attempts to rein in rogue sorcerers.
It was an uncomfortable meeting at first. The chamber in which we met was a standard interview room in the Watchtower, divided by a stone wall with a glass-pane portal through which we could speak. The only real difference between that and a normal visiting cell were the extensive anti-magic wards inscribed on every surface of Milady's half of the chamber. We sat, staring at one another, for several moments before she spoke.
“I am happy to see you, Vela,” she said. All I could hear were the tones of the Bard, hidden in Milady's own voice. “I didn't think I would see you again, no matter what you said.”
“You should know by now that I would keep my word.”
She lowered her eyes. “I should. I have always underestimated you, Vela Redmane.”
I shook my head. “Let's not dwell on that now.” I put my hand on the glass. “I wish it had not come to this.”
She matched my gesture and, perhaps it was my imagination, I swore I could feel her warmth through the glass. “It will not be forever, Vela. I promise we will be together again.” That fearful assuredness was in her voice again, but it was weak compared to before, soon passing altogether. “But I know I will have to earn your trust again before I can ever hope to earn your love.”
I forced myself to smile a little. “You should simply concern yourself about making it through your time here. It isn't easy, compared to a noble's life.”
“I have the hope of seeing you again, loving you again, to sustain me.” Milady let out a long sigh. “Vela, there's something vital I need to tell you, especially with the archons coming for me.”
“How do you know about them?” It was actually a rather silly question. Every sorcerer knew what would be coming for them if they used their sorcery for crime. It was, after all, the purpose of the Sorcererum.
Milady didn't bother to answer. “Go to my manor. Your Chief Inspector informed me that it is being kept in trust and Xian is still maintaining it.” She poked the glass with a finger. “Tell Xian to take you to the core. It will only respond to that command from our two voices.”
“I don't understand.”
“You will.” She stood up abruptly and I could tell she was on the verge of tears. “Please go now. I have to make myself ready for what's to come.”
I stifled my own sobs, putting on a stoic face. “Be strong, Milady. I will see you again when I can.”
All she could manage was a silent nod, wiping at her eyes, when the guards took her away.
Making my own excuses, I found myself practically running out of the Watchtower, pulling out my Harried Herald charm as I ran. One call and a rushed ride in Abby's carriage later, I found myself at the gates of Milady's manor.
“What's the bleedin' hurry, Vela?” she asked from her perch. “Why in all the City do you want to come back here? It isn't healthy, you mind me, to obsess about that murderess like this!”
I ignored her questions for the most part. “Thank you, Abby.” I absently flipped a couple of crowns to her, a vast tip to be honest, as I let myself in the front gate. She let out an exasperated cry and drove off.
Xian met me at the front door. “Junior Inspector Vela Redmane, welcome! How can I assist the Watch today in its ongoing investigation?”
“Xian, take me to the core.”
It was if I had flipped an unseen switch. The golem spun on his heels and led me into the manor, down corridors that were disused but already gone over minutely by the Watch. At the end of a row of doors, he bent down and pressed against the marble floor. Silently, seamlessly, a section of that floor broke apart and slid down, creating a set of stairs into gloom.
“Follow me, Junior Inspector, and watch your step please.”
I had little option but to do so. My natural curiosity had overcome my depression and I had to know Milady's last secret. The stairs entered out into a narrow hallway carved from the stone of the layer's base. It cut back once, back under the manor grounds proper, until opening up into a large circular chamber.
It was here that the Silver Bard had come to life. I knew this first from the elaborate golemancy tools carefully arranged on the worktables here, including a variety of unique artifacts I doubt anyone outside of Milady had ever conceived of, yet alone seen. The other reason I knew this was the silver-steel form laid out on a crystalline table in the center of the room.
My heart leaped into my throat as I stared down at the inert form before me. It was almost the spitting image of the Bard I loved. The only significant differences were the wings, which were much smaller and mounted for some strange, artistic reason at the ankles, and in the detail work, which was simpler than the original Bard's. It struck me as a prototype, a rough version of the Silver Bard's final form before Milady perfected it. Regardless, I could feel my heart, now back in its proper place, beat out a rapid staccato in my chest.
So caught up in the image was I that I barely noticed Xian continue on his way, opening a large, silver-steel urn. Pure, white light spilled out of it as he produced a dazzling construct of diamond wrapped in a lattice of silver-steel, about the size of a Folk's heart.
The light and warmth it shed is what caught my attention again and I stared at it. “Is that …?”
“Junior Inspector, Lady Alysa instructed me, as per this final protocol, to present this choice to you, if you wish to take it.” He nodded at the inert form, handling the heart with utmost care. “This golem is a predecessor to that which was in the Silver Bard. It was the Lady’s first success with such an advanced creation.
“As for the core,” – he held up the silver-and-diamond object – “Lady Alysa always intended to reclaim her lost heart. There were contingencies set into place, a powerful link between the Silver Bard’s core and this one. As its animation ceased, that link was meant to funnel the animating spirit from one form into this one.
“Lady Alysa wished to tell you that this is untested sorcery, necromancy of the first order. She was insistent that there was no guarantee as to the success of an implantation, especially as this is a prototype body. Even if the golem animates, the end result may not -”
“Do it.” I had started crying again without even realizing it. “Do it now. Please, Xian. I'll take any hope over none at all.”
“Yes, Junior Inspector.” The butler stepped forward, delicately opening the chest of the inert proto-Bard after setting the core into a cradle by the table. As hope and anxiety warred in my wounded heart, I started to pace, too ignorant of what Xian was doing to be able to offer assistance and too worried to stay still.
I know why Milady told me this when she did. The Sorcererum would find this chamber with their magic and she wanted to do this, to make some small attempt at amends, before the archons confiscate the heart and body along with the rest of the works here. I don't know if this act will ever let me truly love Milady again, but it was something.
Xian finished his work, sealing the chest closed after depositing the core within. “I am activating the golem. After that, I will depart, erasing all memory of these events from my programming, as per my mistress's orders.”
“Xian, you don't need to do that.”
He looked at me blankly as he pressed in two of the larger crystal projections from the table. “I do not understand. I must do what I am bidden. However, I will consider your words, as you have secondary command protocols.”
I sighed, shook my head, and tried to gather my last strands of hope as Xian left the room.
Before his metallic footfalls were silent, a soft glow suffused the crystal bed before crawling over the silver-steel beauty before me. As the glow increased in intensity, I sang both the Song of Myrien and the songs of the Bard.
After a few long moments, that curious fluidity the Bard possessed ran up the golem before me and her eyes opened. “From the Garden's shade, past Nym's white shroud, through the black veil's fade, mine first sight is beauty proud.”
The voice was the same, and that fact alone made me feel faint. My heart swelled and the tears that came then were of joy, not sadness. After the death, the lies, and the despair, the fragile flame of hope had ceased to flutter and grew hotter.
The Bard sat up, eyes wide as she looked at me. “Though my form is new, my heart swells with light. My way home I knew by your song so bright. Vela, my love, my dear, kiss me now, hold me near.”
Though I could not be sure that this wasn’t a dream spurred by a broken heart or an illusion born of grief, I could not resist the bidding of my silver angel. The very next moment, I threw my arms around this freshly-minted Bard, feeling that electric warmth that was so familiar and yet so new, and kissed her with abandon.
If there is to be a happy footnote to this sordid episode of death and tragedy, let it be that this golem, this new Silver Bard, embraced me with equal passion, as we tumbled back onto the crystal bed, drinking in each other and the love we both felt.
About the Author
J. B. Garner was born in Baltimore, MD on December 1, 1976, the youngest of three children. While still young, the family moved to Peachtree City, GA. His parents always encouraged his creative side and J. B. began writing and drawing from an early age. Though considered talented by his teachers, he never fully applied himself and bounced through high school and into college at the Georgia Institute of Technology. During his freshman year, his father died suddenly.
Grief and lack of purpose caused J. B. to drop out of school. If not for a few close friends, he might have dropped out of life as well. Taken in by his friends and given a second chance, J. B. matured, applied himself, and finally, after over a decade of hard work, is now back to doing what he loves the most: writing.
His writing passions include science fiction, fantasy, pro wrestling and superhero literature. His seventh book, The Songstress Murders, is what you are reading right now.
Feel free to get in touch with him via e-mail ([email protected]), his writing blog (https://jbgarner58.wordpress.com/) or at his deviantArt page (http://megatarget.deviantart.com/).
Discover other titles by J. B. Garner
The Push Chronicles
Indomitable
Indefatigable
Incorruptible
Three Seconds to Legend
The Opening Bell
The Tale of the Tape
The Twelfth Labor