Arise

by Tanya Schofield

  The dim light of dawn showed them when the battle was over, and the cost of their victory. Looking across the field strewn with spider corpses, they saw the last few not-men being cut down across the river. Hulking shapes of giant, impossible insects continued to burn, and staggering soldiers added more corpses to the impromptu pyres. Bodies and blood were everywhere, and in the frost-touched morning grass, Semaj’s soldiers were practically indistinguishable from Thordike’s.

  Arik had already collapsed, his magic drained, too exhausted to keep going. He wasn’t the only one. Thordike had stood over his son and fought to the last not-man with Jovan and the others at his side. Now they stood shoulder to shoulder, looking out at how few of them remained.

  Derek knelt by Elias’ side, nodding up at them when he found signs of life. How many men were not dead, then, he wondered. How many were simply unconscious?

  “Is it over? Jovan?” Senna was pale and drawn, holding the tent flap open and looking out at the bodies. She looked down. “Oh, Arik!” she gasped, seeing the boy crumpled at his father’s feet. Her breath made mist in the rapidly cooling air.

  “He’s alive,” Thordike said. “Marina? Elee? The twins?”

  Senna gestured into the tent. “They’re fine,” she assured him. “Tired. Scared. Christoph and Belor’s shield kept us safe, when they could focus, but between Melody’s pain and the sounds of the battle, they struggled. Without the men outside… “ She let the implication hang there. “The boys fell asleep about an hour ago.”

  Duke Thordike covered Arik with his cloak and lifted his son into his arms before he ducked inside, but Jovan paused, almost afraid to ask.

  “Is Melody …?”

  Senna nodded. “She’s alive,” the Healer said. Her face was serious. “Barely.”

  Jovan’s shoulders sagged in relief. “I couldn’t feel her,” he said. “She just disappeared. I thought—”

  Senna held up her hand. “She’s still unconscious,” the Healer said. “We heard the horn. Melody and I agreed it was the only way. If you felt her pain, you might not be able to fight, so …”

  Jovan’s brow furrowed. “What did you do?”

  “Hodren,” Senna said. “He hit her. Knocked her out.” Seeing the expression on his face, she put a hand on Jovan’s gore-splattered chest, shaking her head. “Stop. He did what he had to do. You might not have lived through the night without him… It was a long night.”

  Jovan, aching to his bones, didn’t disagree. “I need to see her.”

  Senna stepped to the side, and followed him into the now-crowded tent. Duke Thordike, seated beside Arik, had gratefully embraced the rest of his family. He was cradling a sleeping Elee against his chest. Lady Marina, Sophie in her arms, leaned against him, her face as gray and thin as Senna’s. Christoph and Belor were piled like puppies beside mother and daughter, limbs entangled and mouths slack.

  Melody lay on a pile of cushions in the center of the tent, her abdomen noticeably larger than it had been. A dark bruise stained her jaw. Hodren was propped against the center tent post at her side, his eyes half-closed. The other Healers were sprawled next to Melody on the ground, lost to their exhausted sleep. Jovan envied their rest for a moment as he too went to his knees. He took Melody’s hand in his, squeezing gently as her fingers twitched in his grasp.

  “I owe you my thanks,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at Hodren.

  The former blacksmith managed a nod. “Thank the kid,” he said, jerking his thumb towards Duke Thordike.

  “You mean the twins?”

  “The girl,” Hodren clarified. “The little one. Couldn’t have done it without her.”

  “Elee?”

  “Sshhh.” Senna knelt on the other side of Melody, facing Jovan. “The Duke doesn’t know yet.” Her voice was a whisper. “Elee kept us conscious. All of us. The twins, the Healers - just by telling us to stay awake.”

  He frowned. “She told you, and you … did?”

  “Her voice— She’s like Melody, Jovan.”

  “How is that even possible?”

  “In Strom,” Hodren said, yawning. “She was at the inn - she was with the twins.”

  Jovan stifled a yawn of his own, looking over at the Duke. Thordike had eyes only for his family, his lips pressed to Elee’s dark curls. “He’s going to hate that,” he said.

  28

  Melody woke, half cold. She gently squirmed out from under Jovan’s arm and stood, rubbing at her jaw. Her belly was larger than it had been, she noticed when she bent to retrieve her cloak. Her son had grown in the night - and she had survived, in spite of the moon’s hold on him. She looked around at the sleeping Healers, whose green-tinged magic was so pale she might not have seen it. They’d done that for her, she realized. They’d poured so much of themselves into keeping her alive … but this was only the first full moon. Her heart sank. What of tonight, and the next?

  Humming under her breath more for comfort than to bring the magic, Melody let the power wash over all of them - energizing the Healers and the twins, healing Jovan’s myriad cuts and bruises, deepening the restorative sleep of them all. She renewed some of their magic before tightening her cloak around herself and stepping out of the tent, where her voice faltered.

  The nightmare scene before her was stark in the cold morning light. Thick smoke rose over crackling flames, darkening the bleak gray sky from pyres on both sides of the river. Soldiers, half of them injured themselves, dragged the dead towards the fires, choking with the smell and the smoke. These things had come from the Lich King, burning them was the only way to ensure they didn’t rise again. Melody’s eyes blurred with tears as she read the currents of magic … so many dead, so many wounded.

  Healing was easy - she had said those words more than once, but now they rang more false than true. She could repair their bodies with little effort, all of them - soldiers and magic users and horses alike - and she did. She sent her power through the magic that connected every living thing, and felt as their strength returned and their injuries disappeared. It didn’t drain her at all … but there was nothing she could do to ease the shock, to bring hope back to their empty eyes.

  Some of them turned to look at her as the magic washed through them, a few raised a hand to her as they stood - in gratitude, perhaps, or just acknowledgement - before they too set to work, dragging the dead to the fires. What gratitude could there be, Melody thought. She might have been able to stop this, or at the very least help, but instead she had been here, unconscious. The Healers who could have given so many soldiers a chance at life had been here, at her side.

  “This isn’t your fault,” Jovan said, stepping out of the tent to stand beside her. He reached for her hand. “No one could have known.”

  Melody shivered as the breeze picked up, bringing the scent of snow as it shifted the smoke’s path away from them. She stepped closer to Jovan, letting him wrap his arms around her, taking comfort in his nearness. He tucked her head under his chin, feeling the hard pressure of her belly against his.

  “I love you,” he murmured into her hair.

  What if I can’t do this? Her voice in his mind was small and scared.

  He wanted to reassure her, tell her everything would end well— instead, he simply held her close, giving her space to weep. “I love you,” he whispered again.

  I’m going to die.

  His chest tightened. “Not today,” he promised. He kissed her forehead and squeezed her against him. No day soon, he vowed to himself. Whatever it took, he had no intention of losing her. “There’s still hope.”

  I wish I could feel it.

  “I’ll believe for both of us.” He cradled her face in his palms and kissed the tears from her cheeks. “Just trust me.” There was hope, however slim. Thordike’s youngest daughter had been awakened. Senna said her voice was like Melody’s. It wasn’t ideal - Elee was even younger than the twins - but it was hope.

  “I should speak with the Duke,” Jovan said. “Walk with me?”
<
br />   Melody nodded, wiping at her eyes. She searched the weave of magic spread out before her, tracing the lines of the people she knew. After a moment, she pointed. “He’s there,” she said. “With Duke Korith.”

  “Should I ask how you know?”

  Melody shrugged. “I see the magic, more clearly every day. His looks like leaves in autumn before they fall, brown and gold. Korith is darker, like a fallen tree when the forest takes it back. They’re both faded, though. They’re tired.”

  Jovan looked out over the field and the river, seeing only men and bodies. “We’re all tired,” he said. “So everyone looks different?”

  She nodded. “Healers are green. Fire mages are yellow, or orange. Amarta is like lavender in a field, Boy is as dappled as his pony. Most of the soldiers are gray.”

  “What color am I?”

  Melody looked up at Jovan, her eyes tracing the lines of his face. “You just … shine. Brighter than anyone.”

  He smiled and tucked the wide white stripe of her hair behind her ear. He knew the lack of color had something to do with how she had defeated the wraiths, how she needed to use her own life force to kill them, but they didn’t talk about it. The subject was as off limits as the scar that traced a jagged line under her eye and took a chunk out of her ear, or the brutal reality that their son could - and likely would - kill her.

  “I love you,” he said again, needing her to hear it. Whatever happened, wherever this ended, he had to know that she knew.

  Melody arched up on her tiptoes and placed a feather-light kiss on his lips. “You wanted to speak with Duke Thordike,” she reminded him. She took his hand and they walked down the hill, away from the tent where the Healers tried to recover in time to keep her alive again tonight, past the men dragging dead spiders and soldiers to a huge fire nearby.

  There was a small crowd gathered where the two Dukes were talking— or rather, arguing.

  “The girl is not the point, Korith,” Thordike was saying as Jovan and Melody approached. “We lost too many men last night.”

  “Because your witch refused to help!” Korith’s face was red, and his fists were clenched at his sides. “All of this is her fault, you’re just too blind to admit it!”

  “Make up your mind, Jayden. You want to ban magic - you’ve killed for that cause - and now you think she should have saved us?”

  Korith jabbed a finger at Melody. ”If it weren’t for her, Semaj would leave us alone,” he snapped. “If she’s going to bring him to us, the least she could do is fight him, not leave us all to die.”

  Melody bit her lip, but straightened her chin. “I would have—” she began, but Thordike spoke over her.

  “No, Korith. You don’t get to blame her for this. Melody has done exactly as she promised. You swore to bring me an army, and delivered nothing. Are you in this fight or not?”

  “How dare you question me! I fought alongside your men through that nightmare - which is more than your witch bothered to do!”

  Duke Thordike made a point of looking Korith up and down, then doing the same to the Hunter guards at his side. The warriors were still covered in blood and dirt, while Korith’s tunic and hands were clean. “Of course you did,” he said. “How fortunate. Clearly it was you who turned the tide of battle in our favor.”

  Korith took a threatening step towards Duke Thordike, and was met by the immediately drawn swords of Orrin, Jovan, and several other men. Every Hunter’s hand went to their own weapon as well.

  “Melody was fighting for her own life last night,” Jovan said.

  “Easy now.” Thordike motioned for everyone to back up. “Let’s calm down. Korith, I apologize for downplaying your role. It’s been a long night, frustrations are high, but the fact remains - we lost too many. If we are to fight the Lich King, we need your army.”

  Jovan and the others reluctantly stood down. Duke Korith bristled, but motioned his Hunters to do the same. “I’ve already told you, Thordike, Epidii stands ready to serve beside you in the fight against Semaj. I will not go back on that promise.”

  “We can’t go there first,” Jovan said. “It’s too far, there’s no time.”

  “He’s right,” Calder agreed. The ranger’s clothes bore the blood from the wounds that had nearly killed him, and he nodded his gratitude to Melody before he continued. “She has to get to Cabinsport. We have to defeat Semaj before Melody … delivers.” Everyone knew what he actually meant.

  “Korith’s men can meet us on the way,” Rhodoban suggested. “He can send for them—”

  “I will get them myself,” Duke Korith announced. “No messenger could inspire them to the kind of speed I can. Besides, the farther we are from your witch, the safer we are. Captain, retrieve my wife. We will ride within the hour.”

  “No.” Bethcelamin stepped into the group, dropping a quick curtsey to Duke Thordike before moving to stand between him and Jovan.

  Korith’s eyes widened, then narrowed. He held out his hand, his wide smile as insincere as his tone. “Now, dove, be reasonable. Epidii is your home. You want to go home, don’t you?”

  Bethcelamin cleared her throat and said it again, louder. “No, Jayden. I will not go to Epidii with you. I am needed here.”

  Silence came over the crowd that had gathered while the two Dukes argued.

  Korith turned to Thordike. “You think to hold my wife hostage, then? You fear I won’t bring the soldiers as I say, so you force her to stay behind?”

  Duke Thordike raised an eyebrow. “Force, Korith? She seems free enough to me.”

  “He has nothing to do with this,” Bethcelamin said. Her voice trembled, but she stood straight and spoke clearly. “I am a Healer, Jayden. I won’t deny that any longer. I can do real good here. Much more than if I were to hide in Epidii with you.”

  Gasps rippled through the onlookers at her confession, and Korith’s face clouded. “You are nothing of the sort,” he hissed. “Stop this foolishness and prepare to travel right now or my Hunters will remove you by force, Beth.”

  She swallowed, hard. “Calder.” She turned to the ranger, her eyes pleading. “Who healed you after my husband tortured you half to death?”

  Calder nodded. “You did, Lady Korith.”

  “Lies!” Korith’s face was redder than ever, and his eye twitched with anger.

  Bethcelamin turned back, pointing at the Hunter Captain. “Ask your Hunters if I am a Healer or not. Do you think they survived the night defending us from those monsters uninjured? Any of them? Captain?”

  The Hunter Captain cleared his throat. He opened and closed his mouth, looking at Korith uncomfortably, but gave no answer.

  “Do speak up, Captain.” Korith practically spat the word. “I’m eager to hear how my wife laid hands on you.”

  “Well someone did something,” Derek observed. “Look at their armor. Man gets hit that hard, he doesn’t walk away.”

  “The other Healers were with Melody,” Rhodoban said. “Who else could have done it?”

  “We’re leaving,” Korith insisted. “Now. Together.” He reached to grab her wrist, but she took a step back, out of his reach.

  Jovan’s hand was on his sword as Melody moved past him to confront Duke Korith.

  “No,” Melody told him, offering Bethcelamin her hand. Her mother grasped her fingers gratefully. “You will leave, and you will bring Duke Thordike the army you promised him. My mother will stay.”

  “You have no right—” Korith began, but Melody interrupted him.

  “Leave,” she commanded, her voice unguarded but focused. The others only shifted as the residual force of her word swept through them, but Korith’s feet seemed to move without his permission. He was forced to use his arms for balance as his body turned and walked away. The Hunters followed behind him.

  “You’re going to regret this,” Korith called back over his shoulder, though it was unclear who the threat was meant for.

  Melody squeezed Bethcelamin’s trembling hand. “Are you all right?”


  “Yes, thank you,” her mother breathed. “That was harder than I thought.”

  “Unexpected,” Duke Thordike said, “but not unwelcome. My wife will be glad of your decision.”

  “As will mine,” added Orrin. “She’s been worried about you.”

  “We all are, save him.” Calder motioned at Korith’s departing back with his chin. “He won’t be too happy when he returns.”

  “If he returns at all.” Jovan frowned. “Do you trust him, Duke?”

  Thordike sighed. “Not even a little. But if there is to be a land for him to be king of, Semaj must be defeated. Korith will do what benefits him, and nothing else.”

  29

  “We need to talk.” Jovan guided his horse to match the quick pace set by Duke Thordike and Lady Marina, Senna at his side. Flakes of snow swirled around them, but the worst of the early morning storm had finally passed, allowing them all to make better time away from Midland Crossing.

  “How is Melody?” Marina Thordike, like Jovan, had been at Melody’s side during the previous night’s full moon, and knew firsthand how close the girl had come to dying in her new husband’s arms. Without the addition of Korith’s wife to their ranks, the Healers might not have had enough power to save her.

  “Lady Bethcelamin is in the wagon with her now,” Senna said. “I just left them. She’s … weak.”

  “Will she make it?” Duke Thordike’s words were met with silence and weighted tension. “That’s why we need to talk, isn’t it? You don’t think she will?”

  “She’s a fighter,” Senna said. “We’ll do everything we can. All of us.”

  “I want to talk about Elee.” Jovan refused to consider Melody’s death, despite what he’d seen and felt last night. The pain that tore through her, through him—

  He had convinced her to share it with him, as she had done with the fever before, and even the memory of it stole his breath. Without Thordike’s youngest … the night may have ended differently. Elee had told his unborn son to sleep, and for brief stretches of precious time, he had. Without those breaks, he thought, the Healers wouldn’t have been able to save Melody.