by J E Mueller
A Tune of Demons
The Complete Series
J.E. Mueller
Contents
Books by J.E. Mueller
Fire’s Song
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Spirit’s Lullaby
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Epilogue
Dreamer’s Melody
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
Books by J.E. Mueller
Bestiary
Acknowledgments
About the Author
© 2021 by Jessica Mueller
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publishers, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a newspaper, magazine or journal.
The final approval for this literary material is granted by the author.
First Edition
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
PUBLISHED BY FALLBRANDT PRESS
www.FallbrandtPress.com
Books by J.E. Mueller
A Tune of Demons
Fire’s Song
Spirit’s Lullaby
Dreamer’s Melody
A Tune of Demons Complete Box Set
Fairytale Adventures
An Unexpected Brew
For the Guild
Of Beasts and Bells
Once Upon an Adventure
Fire’s Song
This book is dedicated to Elyse.
Thank you for being you -best friend, sister, and fellow unicorn lover. Thank you for always believing in me through all of life's adventures. Without you, I may not have taken this leap. May there always be joy and magic in your life.
1
My favorite memory was that of a song Mother used to sing when we were little. The words were lost to me, but the melody stayed. Mother had stopped singing it before I was four, but the rest of the family never stopped humming the tune. The melody was soft, sweet, and melancholy. It always reminded me of parting from a loved one when you were unsure of when your paths would cross again.
When my life was at its darkest moments; when I needed comfort, I found the tune would come to me, unbidden. The soft sound escaping my lips would surprise me sometimes.
It reminded me of when I was younger, when my world wasn’t about to burst into flames. Hope was abundant, wonderful, beautiful. Now I was running again. The tune was on my mind -my breath too short to sing it.
The fire danced gleefully behind me, not knowing how deeply it pierced my heart. It was a painful sight to leave behind. Half of the village was covered in flame and there was nothing more I could do to help. All the effort I had made to fix things was now slowly turning to ash. I had spent so much time there. So much time and yet… Another was dead. This one knew the full story, all of my past, and it still wasn't enough to save him.
Ha! Knowing of them meant nothing with curses.
The pain dug deeper as I tried to push the thoughts away and concentrate on my path. The field I had been traveling through quickly gave way to shrubs and small trees. No one had seen me leave the town, and now it was far enough behind me that I could barely see its walls. I knew soon I’d be far enough away to no longer see the fire. Vanishing into the night was easy, and it was much better than facing the aftermath of the destruction I had unintentionally caused. If it could even be seen as my fault.
I pushed branches out of my way as I went deeper and deeper into the surrounding woods. It didn’t matter where I went, as long as it was further away.
My mind kept switching from focusing on ducking beneath low branches and avoiding tangled roots trying to trip my feet, to all the people left with such an ugly disaster. He was warned - they all were. Whispers took flight, everyone knew of the curse, and still it wasn’t enough.
I could not focus on where I was going. My thoughts couldn’t stay on track. The villagers thought the curse wouldn’t be a problem, that it could be worked with. Reassurance that it wouldn’t be a problem had tugged at my heart, leading me to stay. The kind words had worked their way into my soul.
But those words hadn’t stopped him from dying and now the misery of all that had occurred was left to sink like a spike deep through my heart and into my core.
Darkness had fully claimed the sky and the signs of fire were dwindling as I pressed through the underbrush as quickly and quietly as possible. The further I went the more I noticed how the forest came to life. Crickets chirped, owls were waking up, and the soft rustling of deer filled my ears. It was a calming retreat, if only slightly. I tried to let the earthy smell push the heartache behind me as the sight of the fire finally vanished from view.
The foliage along the path thickened, slowing my pace. Thankfully, the woods took over the lingering scent of burning wood and all I could smell was the dampness of the greenery around m
e. At least I assumed that it was around me. The world was now turning black due to the lack of clear moonlight.
I slowed my pace and calmed my heart as rushing ahead became too risky. I couldn’t afford a broken ankle. This wasn’t the first time I had sped away from disaster, and it was unlikely that this time would be the last. I knew I needed to clear my head.
Sometimes I wished someone would have trained me better to endure this curse-filled life or ended this miserable nightmare when they had a chance. Mother, so naive, had been told what was to come. She was a lovely queen, full of life, health, and joy. The mother of five wonderful children, and then a child born with a curse. Not that I was a terrible child. The short straw had been drawn on my life before I was even born.
It had come to pass that her glorious, battle-hungry king wanted nothing more than to expand the kingdom at whatever cost. His strategies were often unmatched; his mind was too clever to fall to traps and poor strategy. He was hailed as a conqueror and he became cocky. He became so sure of himself that he ignored the seer’s warnings to delay the next campaign until the season of storms had passed.
Onward he drove his men, sure of another easy victory.
The skies raged with ice and hail. His men were dying all around him from battle wounds, infection, and sickness. But to the king surrender or retreat were not to be considered. His advisors pleaded with him to turn back, but he would not heed him.
Instead, the king had another plan.
He stole away into the night of a new moon and called out to whatever demons would listen. His voice was full of demands and his mind filled with the glory and splendor of victory. No one knew what damned creature emerged in that darkness to strike a bargain.
By dawn, the king returned, and without rest marched his remaining troops into battle. Battle cries met horrified screams, though which side was more terrified was unknown. The returning men would speak not of what happened that fateful day. The king had won. The battleground was charred and life refused to grow on the scorched field.
The king, feeling unstoppable after such a win, drank deeply, basking in the glory of his victory. Many soldiers heard the king boast to his remaining generals of what he did and at what cost. Over and over the king told his tale of how he made such a clever pact to seize the day. Enraged by what they had heard, his dwindling forces hashed a plan.
The king never made it home.
The generals told the queen what happened. Mother listened to them all in turn, taking every slight variation of the story into consideration. Those involved in the battle had their many reasons for turning on the king. He had callously sold his unborn child’s soul without a second thought. Following that, he forced his remaining men to either fight alongside demons or die. While some choose death, many more wanted to make it home to their family and loved ones they had left unwillingly.
All were pardoned. Their reasons were fair and just in the eyes of the queen.
That was the first time she heard her husband had given up the soul of her next born for victory on the battlefield. However, the queen knew her husband was mad with power, and that was a hunger that would drive many to the depths of hell.
Months went by, and Mother’s due date was quickly approaching when a maiden of prophecy appeared at the castle door. What harm could words do? Mother already knew of the curse. She thought she already knew all the prophet would say and was curious if she guessed right. Much to Mother's surprise, the prophet did have some new information. She explained to mother that her child’s soul was only half forfeit.
While the battle was declared over, the deal the king had struck was not closed until home was within his sight. The king had died on the journey, so the contract wasn’t considered fulfilled. Half a promise kept, half a prize taken. One cannot survive with half of a soul, so in its place a curse was bestowed. The vigor of the curse depended on how close to home the king actually was. The closer to home, the more terrible the curse.
Excited by the unexpected news, Mother saw hope. Curses could be defeated. They had been in the past. The prophet warned she would see no such victory, but Mother shooed her away, hearing only the words she wanted to hear. Rational thoughts vanished with what she considered a clear sign of good to come.
A fairy tale ending was all Mother sought. In a world of magic, curses, and wonder who was to say there wasn’t a chance? She let those who lived in the castle keep know what the prophet had said, but in her owns words. She had picked what she wanted to hear and only let her version of the tale be known. Mother decided to tell all that my soul was my own, free from the demon's clutches. Everyone was led to believe that I wasn’t cursed. The men who had slain the king celebrated with a liveliness that was unrivaled. The queen was unconcerned as to what could happen since in her own mind it would be nothing too terrible to deal with. A problem for another day.
I stumbled over a few hidden branches and snapped out of my reverie. I was glad I never met the former king. No use calling someone father when they had tried to sell your soul. Pausing, I brushed myself off and tried to get my bearings. The night was growing cloudy and cool. Thankfully, it wasn’t quite past harvest yet and the cold season was still distant. Either way, my cloak was in my bag somewhere, and I had enough time to pick somewhere to stay before the weather could catch up with me.
Choosing to go east, I began my journey anew, if only for a moment. The sudden rustling behind me was surprising and very noticeable, as well as too close for comfort. I wondered how long I was being followed before I had tripped. Again, I stopped in my tracks after moving a few more steps forward and my pursuer stopped as well. Carefully, I took a few tentative steps forward, as did whatever was behind me.
I took a deep breath and continued forward for a few moments. Whatever it was, it was keeping a fair distance and did not appear to be a threat. Casually, I called out as I continued to walk, “It’s not nice to follow a lady in the dark.”
They paused for a moment before following me once more. “I know why it is you run, child.” The feminine voice was sweet and calming. Her tone was soft and filled with wisdom. Likely a well-gifted and trained prophet, soothsayer, person of vision, whatever they currently liked to be called. In a world of curses, it was no surprise that other gifts appeared in abundance.
“That’s lovely,” My voice was flatter than I was expecting, but I had heard that line before. It was as if my curse attracted these types of people. “Perhaps you may know something more useful, like where I should be going?”
Without hesitation, she ignored my snide remark, “I know more than you would like to think.” Suddenly her hand was on my shoulder. I hadn't even heard her pick up her pace. Gifted indeed.
I stopped to take a good look at her. The moonlight was too dim to help me see clearly. All I could make out was a hunched figure in a hooded cloak. Her cloak matched the color of the forest, letting her blend in with ease.
“Now is the time to listen, child,” Her voice rang with ugrency. “My dear little Key. You are young and sweet. What is it now? Nineteen? You have no reason to run. The tragedy is all in your head.” She motioned towards where I had come from. “Listen now or before the next full moon you will be met with my words!”
“Your words are ridiculous and mean nothing. You’ve no idea what is going on. The path I choose is my own,” I shook her hand off my shoulder. “I owe you no ear, keep your words.” Prophets love telling people with curses what to do with their lives, and it was turning into a tiring game. One I was not interested in dealing with after my curse had flared out again tonight.
“You choose wrongly. No matter. My words will be true. When the night of the full moon comes, then you will listen. Then you will understand.” She turned away from me, shaking her head.
I closed my eyes for a moment, putting my hand to my forehead. She was giving me a headache. “Yes, fine as you sa-” I opened my eyes but she had already vanished without a sound. Damned prophets. It was nigh impossible to tell if
it was part of their gift to be surrounded in mystery or if they were taught as much.
Her disappearance momentarily made me angry. Who was she to declare what was going on? He was dead; that was where the recent tragedy began. Saying it was all in my head was impossible. I felt him become lifeless, his chest moved no more. Lee was gone.
Taking deep breaths, I let the forest’s calm wash over me. The prophet was an idiot, like a fair share of the others I had dealt with in my early childhood. It was better that she was now gone from my sight.