Bashara had been her only true friend for as long as Bethcelamin could remember, the company of other women was not something she had ever enjoyed— until now. Lady Marina had introduced her to the few Healers that had found their way to Estfall, and together they had gone to the Healing Center. Marina was not a Healer herself, but she had tremendous respect for the gift - enough that after several weeks of working alongside the group, Bethcelamin had confided her own small talent for healing.
Lady Marina had been so happy, and the Healers were grateful to have another among their number, even if they did have to keep her identity a secret. Today was to be the day Bethcelamin actually worked as a Healer, not just as a helper, and she had no intention of missing it.
The knock on the door was quiet, and Bethcelamin knew it was Bashara, come to escort her to meet Lady Marina.
“Enter,” she called, not turning away from the window. Their rooms overlooked the training grounds, and she was examining every tiny figure she could see, trying to find Jayden.
“I’ve mended your cloak, Lady,” Bashara said as she entered. “It’s as good as n— Lady? Are you all right?”
Bethcelamin finally looked away, certain she had seen Jayden and Duke Thordike walking together towards the soldier’s barracks. “I’m fine, Bashara. Just making sure it’s safe to leave.” She reached for her cloak, but Bashara insisted on helping her into it.
“Safe, my Lady?”
“My husband was summoned to meet with Lord Thordike, Bashara, I just wanted to be sure he had done so. I’d rather not encounter him in the hall.”
“Has he said anything about your friendship with Lady Marina?”
“Only that I am forbidden from continuing it.” Bethcelamin adjusted how the cloak sat on her shoulders. “I am not to leave this room, in fact. Shall we go?”
Bashara hesitated. “My Lady …”
“The work we are doing is important, Bashara.” The Lady took her maid’s hands. “I can’t stop it just because Jayden thinks it is beneath me. Some of the sick have traveled all the way from the west, from our own lands— all because fear of my husband keeps good people from Healing or being Healed. I need to do this,” she said. “I need to make some difference, however small.”
Bashara nodded. “The work is important, Lady, and I would never presume to tell you what to do. I only fear … I am concerned for your safety. Your husband is—”
“My husband is busy, Bashara. We will be back before he returns, I’m certain he will never know. Now come, Lady Marina is expecting us by the garden.”
“Oh,” Bashara exclaimed. “I nearly forgot. Lady Marina sent word we should meet her by the kitchens instead. She said there were some people from Ravenglass, new to magic, who came this morning seeking sanctuary, or a job.”
“New to magic?” Bethcelamin asked.
“As I understand it, they say they didn’t always have magic. They claim they woke up with abilities, all of them on the same day. They are unskilled, though. Lady Marina was going to introduce them to the others.”
“Looks like we might get snow today,” Duke Thordike observed, inclining his head in greeting to his guest.
“I was mentioning that to my wife earlier,” Korith lied. “Winter came late, but fierce this year. Will it disrupt the preparations, do you think?”
“Not this early on,” Thordike said. “My men are well trained.”
They paused by a fence, watching as a young soldier led some obviously new recruits through a series of training exercises. There was something about him, Korith thought, watching the young man. Something familiar, something that brought to mind a betrayal— it came to him in a flash.
“Your men?” he exclaimed. “That one is mine!”
“Korith, your soldiers arrived with you, they are on the other side of the grounds, just there.” Thordike pointed, but Korith was ignoring him, signaling to the soldier leading the exercises, motioning for him to approach.
At the soldier’s curiously tipped head, Duke Thordike waved, beckoning him closer. The soldier moved to obey.
“How comes this man to be in your colors?” Korith demanded.
”Usually by swearing fealty,” Thordike said dryly as the young man came to stand at attention before them. “This is one of my better men, Korith, he arrived nearly a week before you came here. His name is—“
“Orrin,” snapped Korith. “I should know his name, I had him exiled.” He was glaring at Orrin and did not see the mild surprise registering on his host’s face. The soldier, for his part, kept his face impassive.
“He is responsible for the escape of my son’s killer,” Korith continued. “I demand that you return him to me at once so justice may be served.”
Donnel Thordike tipped his head to one side. “Your logic intrigues me, Duke. If you exiled him yourself, how then do you lay claim to him?”
Jayden could not answer.
“I am sorry your son’s killer remains free, truly I am, but I see no reason to take an excellent soldier and teacher out of commission for an act he has already been punished for.”
Korith sputtered. “Punished? He is in a position of authority! That man—“
“That man,” Thordike interrupted him, “has been exiled from his home and family— even his betrothed. Surely you knew that. He was left no choice but to find a place in my service, and under the circumstances, I think he has managed quite well. I will not release him to you.”
The discussion, as far as Thordike was concerned, was ended.
“Orrin,” he said, “you have my leave to return to the field. Thank you.”
Orrin bowed low, not once looking at Duke Korith.
“Will you be laying claim to all my soldiers, then?” Jayden asked, displeasure plain on his face as he watched Orrin return to leading the new soldiers.
“Only the ones who ask,” Thordike said. “Now, speaking of soldiers, we must discuss the logistics of getting your troops here. What word have you had from Epidii?”
Korith tore his eyes from his exiled soldier wearing Thordike’s colors, and brought his mind back to the ”alliance”.
“The direct attacks have slowed,” Korith reported. “All of my available men are working to repair the damage to the city before the first snow comes.”
“I would think some of those men would already be on their way here, as promised— or are you reconsidering our collaboration against the Lich King?” Thordike began to walk, and Korith was forced to follow as they moved away from the training fields towards a tent encampment.
“Of course not,” the visiting Duke insisted. “But I cannot leave my home in ruins! Surely a few weeks—”
A sudden burst of fire nearby made both men flinch, and Korith curse.
“You’ll have to forgive them,” Thordike said with a smile, quickly recovered from the fright. He pointed beyond the tents to a separate field where a cloud of smoke was being blown into wisps by the wind. “They’ve not had much time to practice. I’m certain they will improve enough to shift the balance in a war. At any rate, a Healer is always close by, just in case.”
“They?” Jayden crossed his arms over his chest and watched the smoke drift over the field, trying to get a glimpse of what had happened. What could have caused a burst of fire to reach that high and then dissipate?
“The mages.”
Korith turned to his host, incredulous. “War mages? Are you out of your—“
Thordike was already holding up his hand to silence the other Duke. “Stop. We have discussed this at length, and you claim to have accepted my lead in the fight against the Lich King. We will agree to disagree on the subject of magic, but your disapproval will not stop me from using every tool at my disposal. Including your troops. When can I expect them?”
Korith watched the last of the smoke disperse. “I will send a messenger tonight,” he finally said.
6
The Golden Fiddle was not the largest inn Estfall had to offer, but it was close to the
gate, had rooms for all of them, and most importantly as far as Melody was concerned, there was a bard. Some of the men had foregone food and went straight to their beds, but the majority of them crowded into the already busy common room, more interested in mead than mutton.
Melody swallowed her nervousness and stayed close to Jovan as he made his way towards the table farthest from the stage at her request. Whatever magic lay within her, she was still desperately uncomfortable in the crush and press of so many people. If they were going to approach the Duke tomorrow and tell him that she could give him the magic users necessary to defeat the Lich King, though, they’d best have more than two magic users with them.
“Eat first,” Senna advised, watching Melody watch the bard, trying to gauge when one song would end and another begin. “He’ll be here for hours,” the Healer said.
Melody yawned. I might not be, she sent.
“So what exactly is she going to do?” Aggravain asked, sinking into a chair beside Senna. He took a deep swallow of his ale.
“‘Vain, she’s right here,” Senna said. “Don’t be rude.”
“So what exactly are you going to do?” he asked, turning to stare at her with deliberate slowness.
“I can awaken magic in these people,” Melody said. “By singing.”
“How do you know?”
“After everything she’s already done, do you think she can’t?” Jovan stretched his neck, his thoughts already on the comfortable bed that awaited them upstairs.
“They’ll awaken tomorrow with talents they didn’t realize they had,” Melody said. “With training, they’ll be able to turn the tide against Semaj.”
“What if they don’t want to?” Aggravain took another drink.
Melody blinked at him. “Don’t want training?” she asked.
“Magic.” Aggravain set the mug down, leaning forward slightly. “What makes you think they want to wake up tomorrow marked for death?”
“This is Estfall,” Jovan reminded him. “Magic isn’t a crime here.”
“Maybe not. Still doesn’t make it right.”
“‘Vain, magic is the only way we’re going to stand a chance against Semaj.” Senna motioned at the others in the room. “We need these people.”
“I just know how it felt when I woke up with a curse I didn’t want, and wouldn’t have chosen. Why does she get to decide for them?”
“That’s different,” Rhodoban said.
Melody swallowed, hard. She wasn’t so sure it was that different at all. “The magic is already in them,” she explained. “I’m just waking it up. I’m strengthening what’s already there."
Aggravain finished off the remainder of his ale in two swallows. “So what about people who are already magic?” he asked. “Like Senna, or Rhodoban. What will happen to their magic when they hear you sing?”
Melody hadn’t thought about that. “I - I don’t know,” she admitted with a small shrug.
“You’re going to try this thing on everyone here, even us, and you’re not sure what will happen?”
“Either nothing will change, or we’ll get stronger,” Senna guessed. “We’ll find out.”
“It’s worth finding out,” Rhodoban said. “Especially if it enhances what’s already there.”
“It won’t be the first time,” Melody said. “I have done it once before. It was in Ravenglass, right before I met you.”
Aggravain let the matter drop. He was the reason she had never gone back to Ravenglass, he knew. He was why she wouldn’t know what had happened to the people she had “awakened”.
The food arrived, steaming on wooden plates, and no one spoke while they ate. Melody finished first, using the thick slice of bread to soak up the last of the gravy. Since she had woken in Gira, it was as if she couldn’t make herself feel full.
While the others finished their meals, Melody sang. She kept her voice low and subtle, layering it under the bard’s fiddle and the enthusiastic hand-clapping of the crowd, sending the magic out on the currents she could no longer see but knew were there. Unlike Ravenglass, where she had simply tried to make the magic work, this time she wove an image of herself into the song.
The energetic singing and cheering would spin the power around like dust, they would breathe it in, and then, when they slept, it would bloom inside them like a seed in spring. There would be confusion, of course, but when it struck they would remember her face, and seek her out. Hopefully she would be able to convince them to go to Duke Thordike with her and the others.
Another yawn took Melody by surprise, breaking off the last few notes of her song, and Jovan stood.
“Let’s get some sleep,” he said, offering her his hand.
“There’s something you’re forgetting,” Aggravain said.
“I haven’t forgotten,” Jovan replied. “Melody, will you go upstairs? I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Melody nodded, stifling a third yawn, and sent him her curiosity as she headed for the stairs. What is there to forget? I did what I set out to do.
“The moon is full tomorrow,” Aggravain said when Melody had left the common room. “Are you sure you want to bring her anywhere near Duke Thordike’s keep? Or let her stay in here, with all these people?”
“She broke the fever, ‘Vain.” Senna furrowed her brow. “You still think—”
“I think a curse is a curse, Senna. If she changes … well, you’re the only one here who’s seen what can happen. Broken fever or not, can you take that risk?”
Jovan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” he said. “With Melody. She’s a part of this, ‘Vain, she gets a say. For now, I’m going to let her get some sleep. It’s been a long trip.”
7
Jovan didn’t have the heart to wake Melody with the sun, but neither was he willing to leave her side. He stayed where he was for a long time, her dark auburn curls tickling the skin of his arm, and listened to her deep, even breaths. What were they heading into? Melody was clear on her path, she was determined to do her part against the Lich King, but did any of them really know what that meant?
She had other challenges ahead of her, he knew. Jovan gave silent thanks again that Senna had accompanied them - Melody was still early in her pregnancy, but he knew nothing of how things would progress, or what she would need, or how any of it would impact their fight against Semaj. Beyond that, though … Aggravain’s words came to him again: “Broken fever or not, can you take that risk?”
Could he? Jovan was no authority on werewolves. Anything he knew came from his mother’s stories, the ones that used to delight and terrify Kaeliph when he was younger. A curse, he remembered, passed through a bite. Three days of full-moon transformations, from man to terrifying beast, all teeth and claws and hunger. Melody had been bitten, there was no question of that, but would she become … a monster?
“You’re grinding your teeth,” Melody said softly, shifting to lie where she could look up at him. “What’s wrong?”
Jovan kissed her nose and brought his hand over to lay on her still-flat belly. “Your stomach is growling.”
She smiled. “I’m hungry,” she admitted, flexing and stretching her limbs. “But it was nice to sleep in a bed instead of the snow.”
“You grew up in the woods,” he said, playfully. “Now you’re a city girl?”
My woods were much warmer. Melody sent him her memories of life in the Dweller’s Glade, where the weather was always varying stages of perfect. The only reason she knew of snow was because Calder would bring her to see it sometimes on their infrequent adventures. Her stomach growled again.
“Let’s get you some food,” Jovan said, reluctantly sitting up and retrieving his tunic from the single chair. He handed Melody her dress, and helped her with the laces.
“What did Aggravain think you forgot?” she asked him, pausing at the door. “It was the bite, wasn’t it? He thinks I’m still cursed.”
Jovan nodded. “Tonight’s a full moon.
I told him we’d talk about it together.”
Melody was silent until they were seated in the common room with their early lunch, waiting for Aggravain to join them. Her stomach twisted, and not just with hunger. She hadn’t forgotten. She remembered the bite and the fever, and the beast the man had been - but she had convinced herself it wouldn’t happen to her. It couldn’t. She had other work to do, important work.
“Hungry?” Aggravain said, putting two heaping plates of food on the table before sitting across from Melody. A bright-eyed, pink-cheeked Senna added a third, and took her seat as well.
Melody, her own plate already clear, gratefully took another slice of the cold mutton. “Starving,” she admitted, taking a bite. “Thank you.”
“Thought you might be.” With a knowing look for Jovan, Aggravain began to eat with as much enthusiasm as Melody had. “How do you feel?”
“Besides hungry? I don’t know,” Melody admitted. “I guess I’m a little restless?”
“You’re starting to feel it,” ‘Vain said, tapping his temple. “Like an animal. It’s all food, sex, and fighting up here, and it will get stronger as we get closer to moonrise. You and I should leave soon, get some distance from the city.”
“She’s not going anywhere with you, whatever her state of mind.” Jovan leaned forward, his serious gaze fixed on the other man. “She beat that fever, ‘Vain. I felt her do it. I helped her do it. She’s not going to turn.”
“Look at her eat, Jovan. Hunger is the first sign. I should know.”
“Pregnancy can make a woman hungry, too,” Senna offered, but there was little conviction in her voice as she watched Melody finish the meat and lick her fingers.
“What else does it feel like?” Melody asked. “How will I know if it’s going to happen?”
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