by Amy Sumida
“And you still didn't believe?” Declan asked in surprise.
“We did,” Reyne admitted. “But it's one thing to have faith in something, and another to see the truth with your own eyes... or hear it with your own ears.”
“Yes; it is,” Torin said softly as he gave me a pensive look.
“You saw the children?” One of the barghests asked.
“I'm sorry,” I said gently. “I saw them being carried away in a cage; that was all.”
The barghest cursed, ran to the cave entrance, and began to howl.
“That can't be good,” Banning noted.
“He's notifying the pack that someone has taken the children; they aren't merely lost,” Reyne said grimly. “They will come to the same conclusions as I have—that the Trinity is most likely behind this—but I have no idea how they'll react. Nor do I know why the Trinity has taken the children. Perhaps they intend to use them as bargaining tools, as we used Eileen. If they have heard of your recruitment to our cause, Queen Elaria, the Trinity may want you in their custody. And if the barghests are informed that they can trade the Spellsinger for their children, I'm certain they will attempt to do so.”
“Perhaps we should find another place to rest for the night,” Gage suggested.
“We have no wish to battle desperate parents,” Rentar agreed.
“I'm fine with it,” Arnold—one of Banning's strongest Blooders—said with a smirk.
“No; you're not!” Banning snapped. “We do not fight people who are acting only to save their children. Not unless we absolutely have to.”
“So, let's not make them have to,” I said. “Everyone grab your shit; we're outta here.”
“Fuck,” Cerberus grumbled, “now I have to run? This just keeps getting worse.”
Chapter Ten
We strode out of the barghest village—I'm still not sure if “village” is the right word for it—while the few barghests who'd been left behind watched us go impotently. I'm sure they realized that they should stop us, but they also realized that they were outnumbered, and the mere effort would be ridiculous. As soon as we were fifty feet away from the cave, Reyne called down some vines and got us all into the trees. He insisted that it was the only way to evade the barghests and their strong sense of smell. Cerberus agreed with him but added that we should ward our last few steps in addition to the treetop precautions.
It took awhile to get so many people into the trees. At least we had the Griffins to help. They transformed into their griffin forms and carried several of our soldiers up. Then we scurried across the enormous branches, following Reyne deeper into the forest. It was rough going. Thankfully, we'd had some time to rest and eat a hot meal, but we were still tired. By the time Reyne found us a good spot to spend the night—again, in the trees—it didn't take long for us to fall asleep.
I woke with the dawn; sunlight filtering in through the bower of leaves Reyne had formed for me. We had all slept in beds of woven branches so that we wouldn't roll out of the trees while we slept. As soon as I stood, the branches disengaged and spread out to catch the light in their leaves. I stretched as well and looked to the horizon; the lush green of Primeval seemed to continue forever. Birds rose from the emerald sea in flocks—like froth off ocean waves; diving after cresting.
“It's beautiful,” Torin whispered as he came up behind me.
Torin placed his hands on my waist hesitantly, and when I didn't flinch, he slid his arms around me and leaned into my back.
“I'm sorry we didn't have a chance to be together last night,” I said to him.
“I'm not Declan,” he murmured. “I can wait.”
I laughed a little and sank back into his embrace. Then I sighed and just enjoyed the moment; watching the sunrise with Torin.
“Can we talk about what happened yesterday?” He asked.
“The barghests?” I looked over my shoulder at him in surprise.
“No; the way you pushed me away when I tried to touch you,” he said.
“After I sang,” I clarified.
“Yes.”
I sighed deeply. Torin and I had been through a rough patch. He had helped me save some Sirens—my family—from a Witch who had them under a spell that we called the Rooster. The spell was called Rooster, not the Witch. The Witch was Thomas Frost; a man who had been a close friend of my father's. When I killed Thomas, he tossed the spell onto me; bonding me with magic that forced me to have multiple lovers. The magic needed their energy to survive. Originally, the energy it fed on was lust, but I had been able to change its requirement to love. I thought that had been a good thing, but it had limited me. I could only be with men I loved. That hardly sounds like a bad limitation; except when you have a limited amount of time to find someone to love—so that you can feed a living spell and not burn away with it.
I had almost died, and it was partially Torin's fault. There; that was the issue I'd been avoiding. I had been with Torin when the Rooster Spell (RS for short) had been cast on me. It drove me into a mindless state, and then into Declan's arms. Torin had discovered Declan and me together. Torin had been reasonably upset over what appeared to be a betrayal, but then he had become unreasonable when I tried to explain what had happened. Torin had refused to see me or speak to me for months. Still, I had held out hope for us and did everything within my power to get him back.
Meanwhile, I had to search for someone to replace Torin. I had Banning and Declan's love to sustain me, but they weren't enough; the spell wanted at least three lovers. So, with the help of a love spell, I had found Gage. Torin had nearly ruined that relationship before it began. Again, I understood his anger and frustration, but Torin's actions had almost led to my death. In the end, Torin had come around and joined our motley crew (sorry; just some Spellsinger humor). We had worked things out, and the Rooster Spell forged a bond between all of us; proving that it gave as well as received. We were stronger together; the spell magnified our magic and connected the men in ways that we were still discovering. I could sense them if I tried, and I'm certain there would be even more benefits to our union in the future. But even though I loved Torin, and I was overjoyed to have him back, that time apart had wounded me. Torin had wounded me, and I hadn't dealt with that pain yet.
“I don't know what to say,” I whispered. “I can't explain it.”
“Then sing to me, little bird,” Torin said. “Make me feel the way you're feeling. Help me to understand.”
That made me pause. I had spent most of my life using my magic violently. It was only now that I was beginning to see alternate uses for it. Necessity is the mother of invention; in my desperation to make Torin listen to me, I had sung to him. He had secluded himself in his castle, and I had serenaded him from the courtyard below his tower window. I could have changed his will, but that wasn't how I wanted Torin. So, I used the music to make him listen. But I hadn't considered using it to make him feel what I was feeling. Torin's suggestion became an epiphany for me.
Musicians have been using songs to make people feel their emotions for hundreds of years. It was what music did. And yet I—a fucking Spellsinger—had forgotten the basic power of lyrics. Simple words—without magic or music attached—could change minds and start revolutions. But add music to them, and words became even more powerful. Your message could be relayed over and over; sung on past your death to inspire people for years to come. I had been born with an ability to magnify that power. Spellsingers took music a step forward. But that didn't mean I couldn't use it in its purest form; as a tool to convey emotion.
I began to run through songs in my head, anxiously searching for the perfect one to express my emotions to Torin. Then I realized that it didn't have to be perfect. Like every song I used, this one only needed to have a few words for me to latch onto—like basic spell components that a Witch combined to create spells. I only needed to find the right ingredients, and then I would cast the spell as I wished it to be.
So, I began to sing.
The
notes of “Eternity” by Rachel Taylor rose gently around me as Kyanite responded to my call; a haunting softness that was perfect for the peaceful morning. I felt the others stir around us; listening but keeping a respectful distance. It was almost as if Torin and I were alone in the world. All we had to do was keep our eyes on the horizon, and the others disappeared.
But my words were harsh. The spell seeped into Torin along with my sadness; the hurt that he had laid in my heart with every word and deed he'd done against me while we were apart. I sang of love, but it was a crushing love; one that bled and broke to survive. The pain lifted from my soul with the sweet melody; rising up my throat in a cathartic release of misery bathed in adoration. I loved Torin tragically; in a way that left no room for healing. I had tried to move on and break my ties to him, but I couldn't. He was my weakness. I knew that now, and the knowledge made me resent him. I needed to let go of that resentment, and all of the pain Torin had caused me. I had to truly forgive him.
Torin was trembling; his massive body shaking around me. His cheek was pressed against mine, and his eyes were closed, but tears seeped from them to mingle with mine. His hand snaked down and our fingers entwined. Torin clutched me to him, and as I sang, I felt his pain. I felt the guilt and horror over what he had done; the regret that it had taken him so long to get past his jealousy and see the truth. But I also felt the aching grief he'd felt when he had seen me with Declan, and the burning fury that had nearly taken his sanity. He had been in far more pain than I'd known.
I wasn't the only one who needed to heal.
I turned in Torin's arms and framed his face with my hands. Torin opened his startling sapphire eyes and tears glistened on his lashes like diamonds. I jerked in his embrace as our connection intensified, and our emotions rolled together. The nights we spent apart, the oceans we had cried for each other, the aching need, and the poisonous anger. We had torn one another to shreds and then cried over the pools of blood. And when we had come back to our love, we had simply pushed the past away and pretended that it had never happened. But that's not how you move on.
My voice lifted, and with it went my love. I let go of my anger over Torin's actions, and then I accepted what he meant to me. He had always said that we were bound together; our hearts like birds in a golden cage. I had thought it beautiful and romantic once, but then our birds had turned on each other, and I had learned the truth; that a cage is a prison. We had to treasure our love above all else to make our cage into a home. There couldn't be pain between us or resentment. Instead of seeing my love for Torin as a weakness, I needed to believe that it was my greatest strength. No matter what happened to us; Torin and I would always love each other. There's safety in that.
I let Torin feel the shift in me; let him see himself from my new perspective. I made him into my shelter.
The song softened, and everything around us brightened with the dawning day and the lightening of our hearts. Torin started to smile—the tears drying on his cheeks—as he brushed the hair back from my face. With the last words of my song, the pain that had been slowly poisoning us leeched away. Torin lowered his lips to mine, and I met him halfway. I clutched him tightly as our love rose up to strengthen our bond, and our hearts rejoiced together. I hadn't even known that I was missing Torin until I truly had him back. I smiled into our kiss, and Torin lifted me off my feet. Around us, I could feel my other men; silently offering their support and approval. This new bond slid out to include them, and when I drew away from Torin, it was to turn into the arms of Declan, Banning, and Gage.
Chapter Eleven
“That was lovely, Ellie,” Odin said. “But can we get out of barghest territory before we start having romantic concerts?”
“Sure thing, One-Eye,” I teased.
My chest felt lighter. I held Torin's hand, and we smiled at each other like a couple of teenagers.
“You two look happy,” Declan noted.
“We had a few things we needed to work out,” I said.
“Like how Torin did a bunch of shitty things to you and you just took him back?” Banning asked dryly. “And how we never get to talk about it?”
“Yes; among other things,” I said as I squeezed Torin's hand so he wouldn't ruin the moment by fighting with Banning.
I didn't need to worry; Torin was just as lighthearted as I was, and he only smirked at Banning.
“Your Majesty?” Reyne approached us. “I sent scouts out this morning, and they've just reported back; the barghests did not give chase last night.”
“They didn't chase us?” Torin asked in surprise.
“Perhaps the kidnappers haven't contacted them yet,” Banning suggested.
“Or maybe they have other uses for those children,” I muttered as my stomach turned. “We need to get to that temple, Reyne. It's our only lead, and perhaps the kidnappers are headed there as well.”
“Maybe we'll run into Eileen along the way,” Cerberus said hopefully.
“Oh; that's something I forgot to mention earlier,” I said. “If Eileen took those children, she's working with a Lesser Fey, because I saw the legs of whoever was carrying the pups. He had them in a metal cage on his back. He was big and must be very strong. The legs appeared male, but I suppose it could be a large female. Either way; it definitely wasn't Eileen.”
“Interesting,” Declan said. “Though I never suspected her.”
“You didn't?” I asked.
“To abduct children while she's trying to elude us would be complete idiocy unless it was part of some greater plan,” Declan noted. “And for her to have planned this far ahead—beyond the possibility of her failure—seems a little farfetched to me.”
“I agree,” Torin said. “Eileen is not our kidnapper.”
“Please remember; there are other missing fairies,” Reyne added. “Those children are just the first to be obviously kidnapped.”
“And we're back to why,” I said. “If those missing fairies were also abducted, we can assume it was by the same individual or group of individuals. So, why switch to children? They haven't contacted the barghests to use the children as leverage, and I'm not sure that they will. So, what is it?”
“Slavery?” Gage asked.
“Maybe,” Banning agreed. “If the adults were giving them problems, that would be a valid reason to start taking children. Children can be taught to obey.”
“There's no need for slavery here.” Reyne shook his head. “Primeval provides; all we have to do is collect her offerings.”
“You live a simple life,” Torin noted. “But not everyone does.”
“Everyone in Primeval does,” Reyne argued.
“Perhaps that's changed,” Torin suggested.
Reyne went quiet for a moment and then sighed. “We can ponder this as we walk. Let's get back to the ground; we have a lot of it to cover today.”
We made our way back down, and things went smoothly until around midday when we stopped for lunch. As we ate, the Blooders went looking for animals to slake their thirst on. It wasn't the best meal for them, but a few sips from the neck of a fairy deer was better than nothing. They had been doing this routine ever since we'd arrived in Primeval, and none of us thought anything of it when they wandered off. However, an hour later, when we were getting ready to head out, we noticed that none of them had returned.
Banning had been drinking from me lately, and not only had my blood given him the ability to withstand sunlight, but it had also lessened his need to drink. So, he hadn't been joining his soldiers when they went on their little hunting trips. Nor was he wearing the layers of clothing that they were. The Blooders were mostly able to avoid the few shafts of sunlight that made it through the canopy, but they had come prepared for any circumstance. That means that not only were they wearing long sleeves and pants, they also had on hooded coats, ski masks, gloves, and sunglasses. The glasses and ski masks were held in reserve until needed, but the other gear was constantly worn. It was a good thing they didn't have much body hea
t, or they'd be sweltering.
When we went looking for them, all we found was a glove.
“We'll find them,” I assured Banning.
Banning slid an enraged stare at me. “Fourteen of my finest Blooders, and they didn't make a sound. Someone took them without alerting us. How is that possible?”
“I don't know,” I whispered as I peered around the forest. “And we still don't know why they were taken.”
“Obviously, they want us to stop our investigation,” Banning growled. “They think that taking my people will make us give up and leave Primeval.”
“Then they have no idea who they're dealing with.” Rentar grasped Banning's shoulder in solidarity.
“They sure as fuck don't,” Banning agreed with a narrowed gaze. “If they hurt any of my people, I will kill them slowly.”