by Sharon Hinck
His love is our true
Resting place.
My focus was down on my strings when I heard several gasps. A girl in the crowd pointed to the windows high above us. A woman screamed and fell to her knees, gathering her children close.
Light sparkled on the marble floor, as if the songkeepers had all held up brilliant lightcubes at the same time. I looked up and hit a wrong string. I quickly squinted and shielded my eyes, forsaking my accompaniment. Something terrifying was happening. The grey sky beyond the windows was tearing apart like overworn fabric. I instinctively looked for Kieran, but he was no longer where I’d last seen him.
Everything in the tower glowed. I stepped off the dais and put a sheltering arm around Caralad. He paused for a breath and offered a tranquil smile that steadied me. Then he stood and raised his arms, singing the chorus again. The song floated over the sounds of panic throughout the tower. His words were so exultant that I knew if this world were about to fracture apart, the arms of the One would carry us all safely to the next.
Standing beside Caralad, I fought back my terror under the brilliant light and sang with him, finding a shaky harmony.
The light has come.
We see His face.
His love is our true
Resting place.
People around us began to elbow their way toward the doors, even those who had been huddled on the floor. A few looked to the songkeepers for answers, but even the worship leaders were pale and trembling. All but Lukyan stepped off the dais and hurried away.
Caralad and I finished the song, and I set aside my rondalin. What should I do next? I knelt beside the boy. “What does it mean?” I whispered.
Someone pushed through the crowd and grabbed my arm.
“Come with me.” Kieran barked the order. “We need to see what’s happening.”
“Wait. Help Lukyan.” The tower had nearly emptied, and the elder songkeeper sagged against his staff, alone on the dais. I scooped up Caralad, and Kieran supported Lukyan, leading us to one of the arching entries where my friends were clustered.
Tristan, Jake, Markkel, Susan—all stared up at the sky, shielding their eyes. Past the torn grey that slipped away like running water, a vibrant color glowed. The blue of a feathered moth, but much sharper. A blue like none I’d ever seen. A clean, rich, deep blue of holiness.
“Is it an invasion?” Tristan pointed at the fierce glowing circle that stood out against the wide expanse of blue. “Do the Hazorites have a weapon that could do this?”
Kieran scanned the streets. Those who had been at the tower ran for their homes as if a roof could protect them from the world tearing apart. “Nothing I’ve heard of. It would have to be a massive syncbeam. But it doesn’t seem to be targeting anything.”
Markkel shook his head, open mouthed and dazed. Inexplicably, Susan gave a breathless laugh. “It’s all right. It’s only the sun.” Despite her reassuring words, she also seemed awestruck by the huge change above us.
I glanced around. “Where is the stranger who was with you?”
Susan inhaled deeply, as if happily drawing in the unusual light. “He ran away after Caralad’s song.” Her smile turned bittersweet. “At least he heard it.”
Markkel pressed his forehead against hers. “And who knows what that song will do?”
Tristan circled us impatiently, waving an arm at the sky. “So can any of you explain this?”
“The song did,” Jake said. The confidence and strength in his voice helped me push back my fear. He faced us all and smiled. “The grey shroud, the mark of separation, the daily rain. And now . . .”
Lukyan wavered, bent, and sank to his knees in spite of Kieran’s efforts to hold him. “Now the light has come.” Lukyan’s voice trembled with both awe and conviction. His wrinkles stood out like weathered rock under the terrifying brightness.
I crouched beside him. His breath sounded tight and shallow. “We need a healer,” I said.
“No,” Lukyan gasped. “Protect the light.”
I glanced at the sky again. What was he talking about? How could I protect the searing light?
Across from me, Kieran knelt, supporting Lukyan’s shoulders. “He means the boy.”
Our gazes met. If Caralad were truly the Deliverer, as Lukyan believed, he’d need protection. But where would he be safe? We had to find a family to care for him. Perhaps Tristan and Kendra? Or Markkel and Susan? Could that be why they were here again? Maybe they could take him somewhere far away until he was old enough to announce his identity.
Lying back against Kieran, Lukyan reached for my hand. He saw the worries that played across my face and wheezed in another breath. “You must keep him.”
“Keep him?” I shook my head. “I would love to, but he needs a family. Stronger, wiser people to protect him.”
“You don’t have to do this alone.” Lukyan placed my hand in Kieran’s, his gaze riveted to Kieran’s face. “Will you protect her house?”
Kieran’s eyes widened, then resolve tightened his jaw. He gave a nod of recognition toward Caralad, but avoided my eyes. “I’ve already pledged to be the One’s house protector. I’ll guard them both.”
Lukyan sighed with a half smile, and a second crackling breath slipped from his lips. Then his chest stopped moving, his eyes fixed, unseeing, on the strange sky.
Kieran’s hand tightened around mine. Susan pressed her fist against her lips. “No, not now.” She stared at Lukyan as if she could will breath back into his body, then with a small cry, she buried her face in Markkel’s shoulder.
Panic stiffened my arms, and I pulled away from Kieran. I grabbed Caralad with shaking hands. “Heal him. Please. We need him more than ever.”
Caralad’s brown eyes were pools of compassion. Ancient eyes that understood.
I nudged him toward Lukyan. Caralad had healed Wade. He’d returned my memory. If he were truly the Deliverer, he could restore Lukyan.
Instead, the boy gently closed Lukyan’s eyes, touching him with somber affection, as if he’d known him for a lifetime, instead of only a few days. Then Caralad turned away from Lukyan and hugged me.
Sorrow groaned from deep in my chest. I wanted to shake him, demand he do something, but instead I clutched him, allowing his small arms to comfort me.
Nearby, Susan cried softly, and Markkel murmured soothing words. While Tristan and Jake held a quiet discussion about our next steps, Kieran eased Lukyan into his arms and lifted him.
“We’ll take him to the songkeeper lodge,” Kieran said quietly as he led the way. I was grateful he had decided a course of action for all of us. Numb, lost, I managed to hold Caralad’s hand and walk in our quiet procession to the nearby building. By now the streets had emptied, and I wanted to hide as well—hide from the searing light that seemed to expose even more of the brokenness and chaos that reigned in Lyric, and in my own heart.
Our arrival added to the dismay of the songkeepers who paced the common room, wringing their hands and arguing. Grief etched their faces when they saw Lukyan’s lifeless body, but so did guilt. After all, these same songkeepers had resisted Lukyan’s efforts to hold the gathering and had only reluctantly joined me in the tower.
Havid rolled out a pallet and Kieran gently laid Lukyan down.
“Was it the broken sky? Is that what killed him?” Royan asked, shooting an accusing glare toward Caralad.
Kieran straightened. “The One called Lukyan home.”
“But what are we supposed to do? What do we tell the people?” asked another songkeeper.
I picked up Caralad, needing the comfort of his warmth, the touch of his silky hair beneath my chin. Kieran looked to me, and I realized he was waiting for me to answer. I was just beginning to absorb the responsibility I’d accepted by agreeing to care for Caralad. Giving counsel to the other songkeepers seemed impossible. Lukyan would have k
nown what to tell them.
Holy One, guide me, please.
“We will teach them the new song.” My voice was steady, truly a gift from the One. “The light has come. The promises of the One are unfolding, and He will guide our clans.”
The admiration that shone in Kieran’s eyes warmed me.
“But what about—?”
“How will we—?”
“Why did—?”
Worried questions from the other songkeepers pelted me like stones.
“Take care of Lukyan,” Kieran said, interrupting their queries. He guided me toward the door. “We’ll come back when we’re able.”
Again I felt a wave of gratitude that he was making decisions. He hustled our group back out into the vibrant street and away from the questions I didn’t know how to answer.
“Thank you,” I said softly.
He raised an eyebrow. “You know how I feel about songkeepers. No sense letting them badger us.”
I smiled. “Should I be insulted? I’m a songkeeper, too, you know.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” he said, rubbing his forehead. Was the harsh light making his head hurt? Or was it the promise Lukyan had demanded from him? A frisson of regret skimmed through my chest. The poor man didn’t want to be saddled with responsibility for Caralad and me. He was still adjusting to being a father to Nolan.
I looked behind us. Markkel and Susan were talking with their son; Tristan stood nearby, keeping an eye on the surroundings, hand on his sword. For the first time, I realized Kieran’s son was missing. “Where’s Nolan?”
“I sent him to find as many messengers in Lyric as he could. We’re sending them out to let all the clans know it’s safe to come to Lyric. That the threat of civil war is over and Corros has reached an agreement with the other clans.”
“They have?”
“Not exactly. Let’s just say I was being . . . optimistic.” He shrugged. “A Rhusican was influencing the meeting, but Susan drew him away. Markkel and Jake then convinced the Council that attending the tower worship was vital, and the debates could be postponed.”
I looked at him, askance. “So what will happen when even more angry, worried people from other clans arrive tomorrow?”
Kieran shielded his eyes and looked up. “My guess is that everyone will be so preoccupied with the changes to the sky that other arguments will be forgotten. And Hazor, Kahlarea, Rhus . . . they were behind a lot of the efforts to fracture the clans, and they’ll have their own problems now, too.”
He led us to a small park behind the guardian tower. Plantings of ferns surrounded a small fountain, and a circle of trees shielded weathered wooden benches from the street, providing privacy. Not that privacy was hard to find today. People had disappeared into buildings like groundcrawlers into their tunnels. Uneasy, I dared another glance at the glaring light above us and wondered if we should follow that example.
I sank onto a bench, and Caralad squirmed from my arms. He ran to the fountain and splashed happily, watching droplets sparkle as they fell back into the basin. Just like any other boy. How could he also be the Deliverer?
The others watched him, their expressions reflecting some of the same confusion and questions, but none of the hostility or suspicion that Caralad had received in Braide Wood and Lyric.
“Child, what are we supposed to do?” I asked him. He smiled at me, but didn’t speak. He just returned to his carefree play. A flare of irritation throbbed in my head. His voice worked. We’d all heard him. Why wasn’t he answering?
I turned to the others. “Why would the Deliverer come as a helpless child? Why won’t he explain his plans?” My voice quavered. “And why did the One take Lukyan from us when we need his wisdom?”
Susan settled on a bench nearby. “Where we’re from, the One sent His Deliverer as a baby.” A thread of sadness slipped into her tone, and she reached up for Markkel’s hand. “Then He—”
Markkel coughed and shook his head. She met his gaze and they exchanged some sort of silent message, because she nodded and pressed her lips together, offering me an apologetic shrug.
Jake sat on the edge of the fountain, dangling his hand in the water. “The important truth to focus on is that this is good news. Even if we don’t fully understand the details, the Deliverer has come. And Lukyan lived long enough to see this day.”
I managed a bittersweet smile. “You’re right. Every day of his life he longed for this moment. He would want us to celebrate.” I opened my arms, and Caralad ran to me. Smoothing the curls back from his forehead, I studied his face again. What a wonder that I was touching the long-promised Deliverer. He was real! He was here!
Kieran came to sit beside me, blocking my view of Jake. He tousled Caralad’s hair absently. “We have another problem.”
Tristan rolled his shoulders. “You mean besides the messages you sent promising that Lyric is safe when nothing is safe?”
Kieran narrowed his eyes. “Aren’t any of you paying attention? It’s time for the rains.”
He was right. Past time. Every single day, the rains marked each afternoon, providing water for homes, for fields, for travelers. I stared at the pool around the fountain, wondering how long that precious water would last. “What will we do?”
Markkel cleared his throat. “Susan’s home has a sky like this. Rain falls, just not each day. The way things are done may need to change. Seasons may shift. Temperatures may range more. But the song said this is a sign of blessing, so you can trust it will not bring harm.”
“Except for people’s panic,” Tristan growled. “We’ll need to set up guardians to prevent hoarding. I take it we can resume the Council meeting?” He looked to me.
I made a quick decision. “We’ll begin the tower worship again tomorrow, after more clans have arrived.”
He nodded, as if accepting the orders of a commander. Tristan had always been kind to me, but treated me like a perpetual first-year. Untried, weak. His ready acceptance of my suggestion startled me.
“Then let’s get the Council gathered as quickly as we can.” Tristan walked a few steps toward the main square.
I rose to follow, but Kieran rested a hand on my shoulder. “We’ll catch up with you at the Council offices,” he said to the others.
Jake frowned and seemed about to protest, but Markkel whispered something to him and guided him away. Susan’s gaze shifted between Kieran and me, and she gave me an encouraging smile. “Let me take care of Caralad for a while, so you two can talk.”
A flare of protectiveness rose up, and I began to object, but Caralad ran to Susan, jumping as he neared her. She swooped him up and spun him, laughing.
I stepped toward them, not willing to let him out of my sight.
Caralad waved good-bye, eyes sparkling.
His joy was contagious, and I let my worry slide away . . . until they all left us and I turned my gaze to Kieran. His expression was grim and closed—the look of a warrior about to engage an opponent in lethal combat.
Chapter
35
Linette
I’d often visited this small garden near the worship tower in years past, but today it looked as strange as a foreign land. The bright light from what Susan had called a sun enlivened the color of each leaf and flower. Then the air moved, another unfamiliar sensation, brushing over my skin like a touch. Leaves overhead flickered and danced. The play of light and shadow was dizzying.
“Markkel and Susan say this is normal where they come from?” I breathed.
Kieran snorted. “I don’t find much that’s normal about them.” He prowled the perimeter of the garden, scanning each entrance as if we were a walled city expecting attack. Who was he watching for? Everyone in Lyric seemed to be hiding indoors as if it were night.
A sudden thought struck me. “Do you think this light will continue all night?”
He shrugged and sat down on the bench, leaving as much space as possible between us. “I guess we’ll find out.”
A long heavy silence stretched, broken only by the droplets of water in the fountain and the swishing of air moving through the leaves once again. Would I ever get used to that strange wonder?
Kieran abruptly grabbed my hand.
I startled and had to fight an impulse to flinch away. As branches shifted overhead, shadows moved across his hand, the hand that Lukyan had joined with mine so recently. The poor man had been coerced into a pledge to help me. As if I hadn’t caused him enough trouble in Hazor. What must he be feeling? Trapped? Angry?
I finally pulled my focus upward, and my gaze traced the scar across his forehead. My fault as well. I hadn’t heeded Kieran’s warnings to stay away from Zarek. He’d never told me what he’d suffered at the king’s hands before escaping and rescuing me. Did he blame me?
There were thousands of things I wanted to say, yet nothing I knew how to put into words. “I’m sorry,” I finally managed.
“Sorry?” Kieran had been staring at our hands, but when he met my eyes, his were hard and remote.
“I’m sorry that Lukyan made you pledge . . . to . . . that is . . .”
“I suppose you’d prefer Jake,” he said sourly.
“Jake? What does he have to do with this?”
His eyes narrowed to that assessing glare that saw so much. “You don’t . . . care for him?”
“Of course I do. He sacrificed a lot to help our people, when he isn’t even from here.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
He wasn’t making any sense. I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”
He studied me for another moment, and slowly the angry edge faded from his expression. His lips moved as if they wanted to smile, but then he sighed. “And then there’s Dylan.”
I struggled to follow the conversation, distracted by the feel of his rough calluses against the palm of my hand, the warmth of his nearness. Maybe I should just start over. “I know I’ve caused you a lot of trouble in the past. I’m trying to apologize.”