Song of the Dead

by Sarah Glenn Marsh

  Perhaps it was the way the crystal burned my hands, which made me wonder if I could trust it. Or perhaps it’s that I know Evander, and if I was suddenly talking to him—actually connecting with his spirit—doubt wouldn’t linger in me. The crystal brought back the pain of missing him, of that much I’m sure. But even if it’s nothing more than a clever bit of magic, I really want to hear his voice again.

  I should probably wait until Meredy is with me, though. I know it’s going to hurt, but this feels like something we should do together.

  The bedroom door creaks open. Nipper barks once, not a warning but a greeting, and I have a feeling I know who’s on the other side before she enters.

  The half-wrapped crystal falls from my hands in my haste to welcome Meredy in the best way I know how. Lysander follows her into the room, and for a moment, all I can do is smile against her lips. That is, until I draw back from the heat of our long kiss to take a breath and get a look at the trouble lurking behind her eyes.

  “I thought you were staying with Elibeth tonight,” I say as I sink onto the edge of the bed and try to focus on reading Meredy’s expression. One kiss from her is enough to make my body want something more, but now isn’t the time.

  “I changed my mind. I love my sister, but her snoring is worse than Lysander’s, it was hard to sleep without you, and the manor holds too many memories for me to want to be there long. Besides, I couldn’t stop thinking about my . . .” Meredy’s voice fades. She frowns as she moves closer, studying my face. “It seems I’m not the only one who’s upset. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

  “Nothing,” I say, wanting to solve her problem first. But she levels a look at me that makes me want to spill all my secrets, and it’s clear she won’t talk until I do. “Fine. Since we came back, very few things feel right about this place anymore.” When she sits beside me, I hook my fingers around her waist and pull her against me, kissing along her cheek until I reach her mouth. I smile as she bites her lip, her breath stilling. “You’re one of them, though.”

  “Dessa,” she murmurs—a new nickname I don’t mind, because it came from her. “Nice try, but you won’t distract me. Talk to me.” She draws back slightly, moving across the bed out of kissing distance, and gives me a serious look.

  “All right,” I sigh. “It hurts to watch Valoria limping around the palace, I feel rotten that I wasn’t there to protect her, and Simeon wasn’t sure whether I’d stick around to see him and Danial get married. Oh, and I hate Valoria’s replacement friends.” I pause as Meredy’s lips quirk in mild amusement and frown at her. “I’m serious. Valoria said there are a lot of people out for blood—what makes her so sure she can trust those two?”

  Meredy takes my hand, rubbing her thumb across my palm. “Don’t you trust Valoria?”

  My frown deepens. “Of course.”

  “Then you have to trust her judgment about others, too.”

  “I guess. But if I’m right and they’re secretly trying to overthrow her?”

  Meredy takes a long moment to answer. “Valoria will survive whatever comes her way next. We all will.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “Because we’ve got you.” She squeezes my hand, but far from feeling reassured, I ache with a sudden emptiness, wishing I had half the confidence in me that she does.

  Resting my head on her shoulder, I tell her about my potential partner in necromancy, Karston, as the lantern on the bedside table sputters and dies. Meredy reassures me that I’m not going to get that violet-eyed boy killed if I ever bring him to the Deadlands, untested as he is, and that Evander wouldn’t resent me for entertaining the idea of a new partner.

  “Now it’s your turn. What’s bothering you?” I ask quietly. Nipper and Lysander are curled up back-to-back on the other side of the room, softly snoring, and I don’t want to wake them.

  Meredy doesn’t answer, but she pulls me closer. Her touch wakes me like nothing else, so even though it’s late, I’m not tired in the slightest.

  As we hold each other, the world grows a lot smaller. A lot safer.

  “Lyda. I went to see her today,” she says at last, dropping her gaze. “So, go ahead and tell me why it’s a stupid, horrible decision, like Elibeth did.”

  I gently touch below her chin, lifting her head and returning her eyes to mine. “I’m not here to judge you. I’m here to listen. I’m here to punch people for you when you don’t have the strength. I’m here to help you with whatever you need to figure out, but only if you want me to.” Lacing my fingers through hers, I murmur, “I’m here to help you get what you want, because I like it when you smile.”

  Her eyes well up again before I’ve finished speaking. Not long ago, she never would have let me see her like this. Unguarded. I wonder if she knows she looks even more beautiful this way, with all her emotions written across her face.

  “I went because I thought I missed her,” she says in a hushed voice. “I missed having a mom, someone who’d share in my happiness when I told them about you. Someone who’d remember to get Lysander a fresh deer carcass for his birthday and that sort of thing. But when I got there, I realized she’s never been that person, and she’s not about to start now. It just made me so sad, but I’m going to speak to her again. I need to keep trying. I have to have . . .”

  As her voice fades, I search for the right word for her. “Hope. You have to hope. I understand.” I press my cheek to hers, wishing I knew some better way to comfort her. But never having had a mother myself, I’m at a loss. Absently, I begin to hum the song that’s stuck in my head to fill the silence.

  “What’s that?” Meredy asks after listening a while, a smile in her voice. “Something new for us to dance to?”

  I blink, surprised at myself. Simeon’s song has been drifting through my mind all day, but with so much else to occupy me, I hadn’t really noticed.

  “Should’ve stuck to dancing, and combing his hair,” I sing for her.

  I don’t remember all the words, but the few that I do, combined with the catchy melody, earn a peal of laughter from Meredy. The sound warms me all over.

  “I’ve always thought Simeon would be an excellent musician,” Meredy says, shaking her head and smiling. “He should try his hand as a playwright, while he’s—”

  “Do you want to stay here with me?” I blurt, unable to hold the words in any longer. “I mean, live here, and share this space every day? Maybe it’s too soon for me to be asking. It’s not like we’ve been dating that long. You can say no,” I add quickly, over the sound of my heart clamoring in my ears. “It won’t change how I feel about you. I promise.”

  She answers me with a kiss. And that’s enough.

  * * *

  * * *

  A sharp knock wakes us just before sunup, after only a few hours’ sleep.

  At first, I assume I’ve somehow overslept and missed a patrol shift and that Jax has come to find me, but I quickly realize the knocker isn’t nearly as heavy-handed as him.

  Blinking grit from my eyes, I hurry to the door before Lysander’s growling chases the poor visitor away. I only open it a crack, but I still have to push Nipper back as she tries to shove her scaly head through my legs to lick the guard waiting outside.

  “Her Majesty requests your presence on the training grounds in an hour,” the guard says, her green eyes widening as she gazes down at the dragon struggling to get past me. “The first volunteers for our new army have arrived.”

  Yawning, I nod. As soon as the guard is out of sight though, I grumble, “Someone should really tell Valoria that even an army needs time to do ordinary things like sleep.”

  Still, knowing the Ezorans are out there, and who knows how many other armies like theirs, starting to train our own forces now could be the difference between life and death.

  After a hasty breakfast, Meredy and I make our way to the expansive grounds beh
ind the palace, where archery targets, straw dummies, and weapons sheds loom like menacing shadows in the morning mist.

  “I’m going to take it as a bad sign that we’re the first ones here.”

  I’ve barely finished speaking when Valoria appears, mist swirling around her ankles like a devoted pet. She’s followed by Danial, her two ladies-in-waiting, and about forty people. They range from one who’s still losing her baby teeth to a gray-haired man with a ruddy, almost purplish complexion warning of imminent sickness.

  I vow to avoid him on the very slim chance he’s carrying the black fever. It’s nearly outbreak season for the one illness healers can’t cure.

  “These are the first volunteers, all from Grenwyr,” Valoria says cheerfully, like she’s been awake for hours already. “Of course, many more will be joining them soon, both from our province and others.”

  “Seems we’ve got our work cut out for us this morning,” Danial whispers to me. “Valoria especially—she won’t admit it, but she’s in constant pain.”

  “The Shade that attacked her—?” I ask.

  “Tore her leg off just below the knee when she tried to escape,” he says grimly. Softer, he adds, “Even though I was able to reattach it and heal her, the scar seems to go much deeper than her skin—for one, there’s the pain. The limping. And something more, too.”

  I know what that’s like. Danial must be thinking along the same lines, as he reaches over and squeezes my hand.

  Not wanting to slip into my darkest memories, I take a moment to look over each volunteer in turn. With the exception of a couple farmers who bear the marks of years of hard labor, none of them strike me as naturally inclined fighters, especially compared to the strength and skill of the Ezorans.

  I really hope Valoria wasn’t just wishing aloud when she said more volunteers are coming soon.

  Meredy and I exchange a glance, and it’s clear from the crease between her brows that she doesn’t want to hand any of these hesitant-looking people a weapon, even a wooden one designed for practice.

  “Well, no point standing around all morning,” Danial whispers to Meredy and me. “If I can learn to wield a blade while scared for my life, these fine citizens can learn in a safe, controlled situation.” Taking a deep breath, he claps his hands together, and everyone else’s chatter ceases.

  After making introductions, Danial calls them forward to assess them one by one, deciding who he thinks can handle close combat. Meredy moves alongside him, confident and focused as she chooses people to train with a bow and arrow. I could watch her work all day, if there wasn’t someone nearby who I’ve really missed talking to: Valoria.

  As I wait for Danial to bring over the volunteers he’s selecting and splitting into groups for the two of us to train, I pull my friend away from her ladies-in-waiting, Freckles and Sunshine.

  “Where’s your crown?” I ask, putting a steadying hand on her shoulder. She’s leaning on her cane less than usual, but she still looks like she could use the extra support. “And why are you wearing that? Surely your maids didn’t pick it out for you.” I nod to her tattered trousers and her rose-patterned blouse with several moth holes in it, offering her a slight, teasing smile.

  Valoria shrugs away my touch, then pulls off her glasses and folds them up without a hint of hesitation. “I’m here to learn how to fight, too.” Holding her cane slightly off the ground, she musters a grin and adds, “Since the damage the Shade did to my leg seems to be permanent, I might as well learn how to wield this baby in self-defense, no?”

  “Majesty, you can’t—” one of the ladies-in-waiting says fretfully, biting her lip and glancing at Valoria’s injured leg.

  “Actually, I’ve found there’s surprisingly little I can’t do,” Valoria says, raising her chin and turning her back on her lady-in-waiting to meet my gaze with eyes sharp as cut glass. “Now, Sparrow, don’t go easy on me just because you know me, or because you feel sorry for me.”

  “I’d never,” I say quickly.

  “Good,” Valoria says, visibly relaxing. “There’s nothing to be sorry about, anyway. I’m lucky—unlike many in Karthia, I’m still alive. And grateful for every breath.” She taps her cane against the ground. “I’m still me. Just in a slightly different form.”

  “You look like you’re in fine fighting shape,” I assure her. “I’ll challenge you accordingly.”

  “Not before I do!” a familiar voice shouts. “I want you to give me the beating of my life . . . if you think your fists can take it.”

  Striding through the mist, Jax’s hulking shadow comes into view. He whistles Simeon’s song under his breath and flashes a wolfish grin as he approaches. His mood seems lighter this morning. Too light. I wouldn’t trust the change if I didn’t know him so well. Fighting is something he’s good at, and without his old job to occupy him, this is probably the first chance he’s had to burn off some of his restless energy since we said farewell to the Dead, or at least since he fought the Shade that someone turned loose at the palace.

  “You and me. Let’s do this. Hand-to-hand combat, for those fun times when swords aren’t an option,” he says, wiping a trace of sweat from his brow and locking eyes with Valoria. “If you really want to learn, I’ll teach you how to take down someone twice your size,” he says, a current of pride—and perhaps something else, though I’m not sure what—running through his voice. “Bring your cane. It’ll make a sweet staff.” He nods to the black polished wood with the wolf’s head for a handle. “And I won’t go easy on you. Promise.”

  He extends a hand to Valoria, who takes it after a moment’s slight hesitation. Hand in hand, they disappear into a stretch of grass behind one of the weapons sheds.

  Wondering if they’re finally about to act on what I’ve sensed between them for a while now, I watch as Meredy patiently organizes a small group of would-be archers. Nearby, Freckles, Sunshine, and a couple of the larger men test out wooden practice swords under Danial’s careful supervision.

  With the sun now burning off the mist, the beginnings of our volunteer army don’t look as bad as they did at first glance.

  Hurrying over to help Danial with his trainees, I take a moment to study Valoria’s two favorite ladies-in-waiting as they watch others sparring. Both girls are holding their practice swords at angles that suggest they have no idea what to do with them. I’m not sure why Freckles, the one who turned into a big cat in the throne room, would even want to learn swordplay when she can transform into something that kills with a swipe of its claws. And as for Sunshine, her appearance-changing magic seems to make her better suited to spying than any type of fighting.

  As if to confirm my suspicion, Sunshine waves her short wooden sword in a greeting at my approach. The blade smacks Freckles square in the face, and she cries out, more in surprise than pain. Still, Danial rushes to check on her.

  They’re hopeless at this.

  I rub my temples, wishing I’d brought some coffee beans out here with me.

  I’ve just started explaining how to block an opponent’s blow to the rest of the trainees when Simeon calls breathlessly, “Wait for us!” When he strides into view, leading most of the crew of the Paradise, he pants, “Sorry we’re late, but this lot would’ve missed the morning summons if I hadn’t gone to fetch them.” In an exaggerated whisper, he jerks a thumb at Kasmira and adds, “Too much fun last night.”

  “By fun, he means we got into a scrape with some of those who oppose Valoria’s reign last night,” Kasmira says to me and Danial, ignoring Simeon’s jibe completely. “So forgive us if we’re moving a bit slowly this morning, but we figure now’s as good a time as any to learn some, ah, proper killing techniques.” She wiggles her fingers and makes me laugh for a moment—that is, until I notice the bruises on her face and arms.

  Frowning, I reach absently to rub the spot where my master necromancer’s pin used to be—the one I no longer wear
despite Meredy’s encouragement—and I get to work at last.

  The volunteers might be a bit hapless, but they’re eager to learn. Watching a young boy demonstrate some decent footwork, teaching Freckles the proper technique for blocking, and helping Kasmira with her stance raises my spirits slightly.

  A while later, Jax and Valoria emerge from behind the weapons shed, bruised and muddy but both grinning.

  Jax looks my way and calls, “Your turn next, Sparrow!”

  I don’t know what this means—if this is him forgiving me for leaving without saying goodbye—but my toes practically skim the grass on my way over to him. I link arms with Simeon, dragging him away from his sparring partner to join Jax and me in a little hand-to-hand demonstration for the volunteers.

  If only Evander were here, it would be just like old times. But if Evander were here, I wouldn’t be with the girl who gives me the best dreams. I can’t wish Evander back to life. It seems to be a habit, but I’ve got to stop trying. Evander would want me to be happy, and in the moments when I’m not worried about what he would say or think if he were still here, I finally am. Happy, with Meredy. And we can’t move forward if I stay stuck in the past with a phantom.

  Our mock battle begins, demanding my attention.

  As I swing my fist toward Jax, someone screams.

  XIII

  I drop my hand at the sound that startled me, a hot, prickling feeling washing over me as I look for the screamer. “Relax,” I growl at the crowd, still breathing hard from the half demonstration we managed. I wink at Jax. “I’m not gonna do anything that’ll permanently damage that pretty face of his.”

  Jax doesn’t laugh like I expected. Instead, he nudges me in the ribs and points at something in the distance, toward the front of the palace.

  A plume of smoke rises into the clear sky like a sinister, twisting serpent. Grabbing my sword—the real one I’d set out of reach before practice—I race toward the palace’s front gates with Jax and Simeon running alongside me, Kasmira and Meredy not far behind.