Song of the Sword

by C. R. Grey

  “He loved you too,” he’d told her. “Those were his last words.”

  Bailey took breaks when the women of Defiance would visit and sit with his mom. During those moments, he’d stand in front of Eneas’s tent waiting for any news of the mysterious woman. He wanted—needed—someone to survive when his dad could not.

  To keep busy, he helped Tori and Hal gather fabric for bandages; he, Gwen, and Phi volunteered to forage for food. Doing something made him forget, for at least a little while, that he’d never hear his dad’s laugh again. No more long-winded stories over porridge, or trips to the market with sacks full of grain.

  It was not until the night had almost passed entirely, and the sun was about to rise, when Taleth perked her head up beside his bed and sauntered out of his tent. He rose and followed her. As she neared Eneas’s tent, he felt her heartbeat quicken. She trembled, full of joy and relief. Outside the tent that had been the place of so much worry all night, there was Tremelo, standing tall with the woman beside him. Taleth padded straight up to her and lay down, her paws extended in front as her tail swished back and forth gracefully.

  “Taleth,” the woman whispered. “My brave friend.”

  Tremelo’s eyes met Bailey’s. They were shining, and his smile was almost sad—like something had shifted in him and he was puzzling how to put it back to right.

  As he drew closer, Bailey studied the woman. She was very thin, but strong. She had wide swaths of freckles across her nose, cheeks, and shoulders. Her eyes, though—they were far from youthful. Her eyes were like deep wells of memory, wise but alert, and a little untrusting. And then Bailey remembered where he had seen this woman before.

  “That’s the woman from Taleth’s memory,” he said, the words catching in his mouth, breathless. And she was—her hair was the very same, though her face was slimmer and more careworn. She had the look of someone who had endured years of pain, pain that had only served to make her stronger.

  “And my memories too,” said Tremelo.

  “Who is she?” Bailey asked, confused.

  Tremelo took the woman’s hand and led her to Bailey. Standing before him, she hesitated, then drew in a deep, strong breath. She looked to Tremelo as if she was unsure what to do or say.

  “My name is Elen,” she said finally. Then she cast her head downward and lifted her hands to her eyes. Bailey saw that she was hastily wiping away tears.

  “You saved me,” Bailey said. “You gave me to Taleth when I was just a baby.”

  The woman crouched. As she moved her hands away from her eyes and gazed at Bailey, a smile began to take shape on her lean, freckled face. She looked at him the way no one had ever looked at him before—with such love and happiness, but so much longing for something that had been lost, and might never return.

  “Don’t you know why?” she whispered. She reached out, but didn’t touch him, not quite.

  Bailey couldn’t have predicted what he did next. It crept up and pounced on him, overpowering him before he could think of words: he burst into tears.

  “I think—I think I do,” he sputtered. “You’re—you’re my—” But he couldn’t say the word. It carried too much hope to be said out loud.

  Tremelo placed a hand on his shoulder. Bailey had almost forgotten that Tremelo was there.

  “She’s your mother, Bailey,” Tremelo said. His voice trembled. Tremelo kept one hand on Bailey’s shoulder, and with the other, he lightly touched the woman’s face, as though he was afraid that she wasn’t really standing there, and could disappear any moment.

  “And that means,” Tremelo continued, “that I am your father.”

  For a moment, Bailey was only aware of Taleth’s joy as she circled them. She purred, and it seemed to echo off of the tree trunks. The sun was rising. The day was about to begin. Bailey looked from Elen to Tremelo, and then back again.

  “We’re a family?” he asked.

  “We’re a family,” said his father.

  Was it possible to have two families, and was it at all fair that he could feel twice as loved? But his heart seized; for a split second Bailey had forgotten his dad had died earlier on the battlefield. It was so unfair, to have to lose his father and gain another. He wanted both men, all of his family, joined as one. But that would never happen. And when he felt Tremelo’s arms around him, he felt, too, that the True King shared the pain of this tragedy with him—and that they bore this great burden of losing fathers too soon together. Bailey felt safe for the first time in a great long while.

  GWEN FELT A PLEASANT sense of déjà vu, roaming the halls of the newly restored palace. With each step, she experienced a different memory of her years growing up here with the Elder, each memory tinted with new happiness now that she’d returned, in the company of a new king. She nibbled at the raspberry tart she’d just commandeered from the kitchen as she rounded a corner and flitted down a stone staircase nearer the lower floors.

  The owl Melem flew circles around the tower. Gwen paused at every other window to catch glimpses of her as she passed, and her heart soared. Someday soon she might perch at her window, or even eat from her hand. She hoped, at least. It might take time, she thought, but I’ll heal.

  Outside she could see Roger, Hal’s uncle, instructing people and their kin in the business of planting a garden. The grass had shriveled up and the lawn fallen into disrepair during Viviana’s occupation, but now they would make it beautiful again. From here, Gwen saw Hal hand Tori a bushel of flowers that he’d picked. In response, she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek; Hal turned so red Gwen could see his crimson cheeks from here. It made her smile.

  Ahead, in an archway, a figure stood deep in thought.

  “Emily?” Gwen asked the woman. “Mrs. Walker—are you lost?”

  Emily Walker shook her head, chuckling to herself.

  “I’m glad to see a familiar face—I’m afraid after all these weeks, I simply can’t find my way through this maze! I was hoping to find Bailey.”

  “He’s in the map room with Tremelo, I think,” said Gwen. “I can show you the way.” She wiped the crumbs from her hands and took Emily’s arm.

  They’d buried Emily’s husband, Bailey’s adoptive father, just a few days prior—in the woods next to the Elder. Both graves were covered in flowers, and Gwen felt certain they would always look like that—for years and years to come.

  Together they walked back up the stairs and down a hall lined with carved archways and wooden beams. They stopped at a pair of tall doors carved with a mountain landscape. The room behind those doors was high ceilinged, with windows that overlooked the rooftops of the Gray City, and beyond, the first rolling hills that whispered of the distant presence of the Peaks.

  Bailey leaned on his elbows on the central table, looking at a map nearly as large as the room itself. Next to him, Tremelo pointed at a spot illustrated in verdant green.

  “What trouble are we plotting today?” asked Emily.

  “Come and see,” said Bailey. “Tremelo’s taking me on a journey.”

  “Haven’t had enough journeying yet?” asked Gwen. Bailey returned her smile.

  “I never knew about the Underlands before Eneas showed them to me,” said Tremelo. “The Loon had never spoken of them. And with Elen returning to her strength, she could guide us through them. Show us the parts of Aldermere that we need to protect the most.”

  “That does sound exciting,” said Gwen.

  “It’s even better than that,” said Bailey. “Elen was able to hide there because Aldermerians wouldn’t come looking—and so everyone thought that the white tigers had gone extinct. Who knows what other kinds of animals could be hiding there? Creatures we’d thought had died long ago, or that we didn’t even know existed.”

  “The Tully would be glad to hear that,” said Gwen. “You’ll have to write her if you find one.”

  Bailey smiled and looked again at the map.

  “Look, Mom,” he said. “This is where Elen is going to lead us, through th
e mountains here….”

  “I wonder if I could ask you about something,” Tremelo said to Gwen. He led her through the doors leading out onto a stone balcony. From here, the red and copper roofs of the Gray City spread out like scattered jewels all the way to the Fluvian. Gwen had missed being home. She’d nearly forgotten how lovely the city could be, especially under a loving ruler.

  “You’re no longer a student,” Tremelo said. “Or an apprentice. So I have an official position for you.”

  “Oh?” said Gwen.

  “The new Palace Seer,” Tremelo said. “If you accept.”

  “Really?” said Gwen. “I’d be honored! It’s just that…” She hesitated as she remembered the blind Seer Ama, tucked away in her mountain cave, far from the turmoil and the life of the kingdom. “I don’t know if I can be a Seer in the same way that the old ones were. I don’t think that I could just tell others what will or won’t happen. I would want to help. I would wish to aid change.”

  “You can see a place for yourself in this kingdom’s history, rather than a life outside of it,” Tremelo said. “That makes you perfect for the job.” Gwen pulled the Seers’ Glass from her pocket and turned it over in her hands.

  “You don’t have to become like them,” he said. “They watch what has yet to occur until all other sight erodes away. But you can see what the kingdom should be, and that is the kind of sight that comes from a good heart. We’ll need you.”

  Gwen heard both footsteps and the faint sound of claws on the marble behind her. Elen, Bailey, and Taleth stood in the archway; Taleth stretched out her front paws and arched her back in the sun. Elen took Tremelo’s arm and kissed his cheek.

  “Are you ready?” Bailey asked Tremelo. “The rigi from Fairmount’s due to come in any second. I told Phi we’d meet her at the platform. Shonfield couldn’t chaperone—too busy with the rebuilding, I guess.”

  Tremelo smiled and clapped Gwen on the back.

  “What do you think of my proposal?” he asked.

  Gwen returned his smile.

  “I accept,” she said.

  A familiar falcon swooped overhead. Gwen’s heartbeat quickened.

  “I think she might be early,” she said. “Or Carin beat them here!”

  “Come on, then!” said Bailey. He grabbed his mom’s hand and pulled her out of the map room, with Tremelo and Elen following behind. Taleth pounced ahead as they hurried to the main hall of the palace, and then out into the cobblestone yard. Hal and Tori were already waiting, standing hand in hand. The rigi was just pulling in, its red, towering cars gleaming in the city sunlight. Gwen laughed as she ran. She thought she saw a hand waving from the second story of the front car, and she and Bailey waved back. Melem and Carin wove and dipped through the air, and Taleth’s tail swished. Gwen’s heart felt so full, that she wished the Elder could have been there to see her. He’d have been proud of her, of all of them. She and Bailey came to a stop, breathless, and waited for their best friend to emerge from the shining rigi into the sun.

  ANIMAS WOULD BE NOTHING without the excellent team at Paper Lantern Lit: Lauren Oliver, Lexa Hillyer, Alexa Wejko, and Rhoda Belleza. I’m also grateful to Tara Sonin and PLL alums Angela Velez, Beth Scorzato and Adam Silvera for their vision at the start of the series and their support throughout. Thanks are due to agent Stephen Barbara and to the editorial team at Disney • Hyperion; Rotem Moscovich, Julie Moody, and Heather Crowley, steered this series into fruition with grace and keen insight. Thanks as always to my good friends and my family for their love and willingness to lend an ear. I’d especially like to thank my husband, to whom this series is dedicated.

  Also by C. R. Grey

  Animas, Book One: Legacy of the Claw

  Animas, Book Two: Flight of the King

  C. R. Grey was born in a house on a pier in Maine—literally on the ocean. She grew up in Memphis, Tennessee, then received her BA in theater from the State University of New York at New Paltz and her MFA in fiction from Ohio State University. She is the author of the first two books in the Animas series, Legacy of the Claw and Flight of the King. Grey lives in State College, Pennsylvania, with her husband, one black cat, one white cat, and a Boston terrier named Trudy. Find her on Twitter @CRGreyBooks.