Arise

by Tanya Schofield

  Twice Melody had screamed, writhing in Jovan’s arms, her pain and fear washing through everyone who heard. Twice a frightened Elee had commanded the baby to sleep, and twice the Healers had repaired the damage in force, the seven of them amplifying each others’ talents in a way they hadn’t known was possible. Senna, convinced the child was going to enter the world one way or another, had even sent Jovan for water and blankets - but dawn came without further incident.

  After a day of travel, resting in the wagon with the children and Healers, Melody now walked tall and confident, explaining the circle casting to the magic users she had awakened in Strom.

  “The wind’s getting stronger,” Bethcelamin observed. “There’s a storm coming.”

  “I’ll wager she’s teaching them how to add weather protection to the circle.” Lady Thordike quickened her pace. “Let’s catch up, so you can learn. It’s fascinating.”

  Dark had fallen by the time everyone had eaten and the mages had gathered into the practice tent with Melody. As he had done for the previous sessions, Crestus sat at a makeshift table with the chants spread out before him. Calder sat nearby. This time, however, the scholar was deep in concentration, scratching quill and ink on new parchment while Melody began.

  “Belor, Christof - would you bring up your magic please? Just around me.”

  The twins obeyed, and she was suddenly enveloped in the thin blue wash of magic she remembered.

  “Can any of you see this?” she asked, curious. She was greeted by blank stares and a few shaking heads.

  “The air is wavy,” Amarta said from her seat beside Sophie. “Like over a candle.”

  Melody nodded. “Something like that, yes,” she agreed. “The thing is, you don’t have to be able to see it for it to exist. It works whether you understand it or not. Rhodoban, will you demonstrate?”

  The mage obediently whispered a small ball of fire to his palm, and lobbed it towards her. The fire collided with magic, spreading and flattening before dissipating entirely. There were a few gasps from those who hadn’t previously witnessed what the twins’ shield could do.

  “The chants you’re learning are like this shield,” Melody explained. “You won’t be able to see them working, but they are. Now, I can see this shield around me—” she traced the boundaries of the sphere with one hand, feeling the crackling energy that bound the strands of magic so tightly to each other. “I can actually see magic, and I’ll be able to direct the power we raise. It’s the raising part that we need your help with. Crestus, will you go over pronunciation before we start practicing?”

  The old scholar barely looked up from his papers. “I’m working,” he snapped. “You know every word, you teach them. I need to concentrate.”

  Melody blinked, slightly taken aback by his response. “Very well,” she said. “We’ll try not to disturb you. Boys, do you think you could give Crestus some privacy?”

  Christoph and Belor let the shield around Melody drop, and brought it up again, this time enclosing Crestus and Calder in the magic. Melody saw the shield’s weave change slightly as the twins made sure no sound could pass through. While Crestus didn’t bother to acknowledge the change, Calder flashed her a slight smile.

  “That’s perfect,” she said, smiling back before turning to the others. “Now, let’s begin.”

  “Mind if I join you?” Jovan sat beside Melody, propping his back beside hers against the tree so their shoulders touched.

  Better than you watching me from the fire. Her voice in his head was teasing. She had seen him, of course.

  “Melody, I’m just trying to give you space. Whether I want to or not.” He took her hand in his. “And I don’t.”

  I know. She squeezed his hand. I appreciate it.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  Would you believe … everything? She smiled at Jovan’s gentle laugh. I just mean there’s too much to explain, she clarified.

  “Try me. Start anywhere.”

  Melody leaned her head on Jovan’s shoulder. I’m worried we won’t make it to Cabinsport in time, she confessed. I’m worried Duke Korith won’t bring his soldiers like he promised. I’m afraid that even if he does, we won’t have enough people. She paused. I’m worried about our son.

  Jovan rested his head against Melody’s. “Do you want me to listen, or respond?” he asked.

  Do you think I’m worrying for nothing?

  “Yes and no,” he replied. “We’re traveling as fast as we can, which is faster than we were before.”

  Before I got everyone killed, she sighed.

  Jovan sat up, and turned to face her. “Melody, stop. Semaj took us by surprise - that isn’t your fault.”

  We were surprised in Porthold too, she reminded him, but at least there I could help.

  “People still died. This is war, that’s what happens. This is what we’re trying to put an end to. And we will.”

  I wish I could see how. Melody rubbed at her eyes. Even if Korith brings an army, there will be no more inns, no more magic users. There aren’t enough.

  “It will have to be,” he said simply. “It’s all we have.”

  She stayed silent for a while, considering his words. The cold sunk into her, and when her lips slipped between her teeth to keep them from chattering, Jovan gently insisted that she walk with him. He knew she was reluctant to rest, so he took the longest way he knew back to their tent. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, sharing his warmth and his cloak, hurrying neither her steps nor her thoughts.

  “You’re right,” she said eventually. “It is all we have here. But it may not be all we can reach.” She stopped, and looked around, searching. “Where is Rhodoban?”

  Jovan pointed to where he knew the mage was camped. “It is late, Melody. He may already be asleep.”

  That is my hope. She started off immediately, faster than he expected.

  Rhodoban was not asleep when they arrived, though he looked exhausted.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you, friend, but this is important. How many magic users do we have?”

  If he was surprised by Melody’s question, he did not show it. “If I had to guess, I’d say just under a hundred now. Why?”

  “It’s not enough,” she said, pacing restlessly. “We need more, and I doubt we’ll find them as we travel. The closer we get to Semaj, the fewer people we will encounter.”

  Rhodoban nodded. “I agree, but who else—”

  “The Elves.” Melody was eager, but calm. “Lianodel and her people. They will come to our aid, I am sure of it.”

  Jovan could see Rhodoban’s eyes over Melody’s head, and saw an understanding dawning there that he did not share. He frowned.

  “There is no way we can reach the Deepwood and still get to Cabinsport in time,” Jovan said.

  “You speak the truth,” Rhodoban agreed. “We can’t get there in our travels. Dreams, though. That’s another matter entirely. Melody, you’re brilliant.”

  “I don’t know how to do it,” Melody said. “Is it even possible for you to bring me with you?”

  Jovan, remembering the sickening lurch of being dragged to Melody’s dream, answered for the mage. “He can. Hold on to your dinner, though.”

  “Can we go now?” Melody asked. “I’m ready if you are.”

  Rhodoban looked to Jovan. “Will you join us, friend? My gifts are much stronger than when I brought you with me, it should be less … unpleasant.”

  Jovan raised a hand. “I think I’d rather wait,” he said, pressing his lips to Melody’s head in a gentle kiss. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Tuck me in?”

  Jovan helped Melody settle, wrapped in her cloak, with one arm under her head. “I hope this works,” he said, brushing her hair from her scarred cheek.

  Me too.

  Melody slipped into sleep quickly, once she let her thoughts quiet. It seemed only a moment had passed before Rhodoban was there in the clearing she remembered so well, holding out his han
d.

  “Her light is clear,” the mage said. “She is asleep.”

  In a deep, blurry breath, the two of them slid sideways through the unknown, and when Melody opened her eyes again, Lianodel was smiling before her.

  “It is good to see you again, little one.”

  Melody dropped a respectful – if ungainly - curtsey. “Well met,” she said.

  Lianodel inclined her head towards Rhodoban in acknowledgement. “I suspect your unexpected visit is not entirely for pleasure?”

  “I regret that it is not, grandmother.” He could barely lift his head to meet her eyes, and his deep voice held a tremor of unspoken emotion.

  Lianodel touched Rhodoban’s shoulder lightly. “Your children are safe,” she assured him. “I know the truth of my granddaughter’s passing. You will always have a home here, with us. Do not let the past trouble you so.”

  Rhodoban exhaled, relief flooding through him as a weight was lifted that he didn’t realize he carried. “Thank you,” he said, sincerely. “We come in need of your aid, grandmother.” He gestured towards Melody. “She has come up with a plan, and I believe it may work.”

  Melody took a small step forward. “I was given the key, Lady. A great gift, the means to defeat Semaj … but I cannot do it alone.”

  Lianodel regarded her seriously, her gaze trained on Melody’s swollen belly. “You have little time, child.”

  “I know.” Melody shrugged slightly. “We travel to Cabinsport even now, with what speed we can muster. It is my hope that you can meet us there, or close to there.”

  “Before the next full moon,” Rhodoban added.

  Lianodel stayed silent for a long moment, and Melody went on, desperate to convince her of the necessity.

  “Our scholar found the original chants used to defeat the Lich King. Logannus Mortendus, the First of the Five, gave me the final chant, the one that will keep Semaj from ever returning. I have gathered every person with any shred of power as we travel, but there will not be enough… I am teaching the chants to them when we camp each night. I can teach the chants to you and the others, here, in dreams. By the time we reunite—“

  “It is a good plan, child, and we will come. Semaj grows too strong. We feel his influence even here in the Deepwood. But we must hurry. There will be no second chance for this.” She considered Melody again, and met the young girl’s eyes.

  You know there is no healing I can work for you when your time comes, child. Her voice slipped into Melody’s thoughts.

  Melody looked away. I know.

  The child will kill you.

  It wasn’t the first time she had heard the warning. He is my son, she said simply.

  Lianodel’s expression was unreadable. And you are the hope of the world.

  Melody set her shoulders straight, and her serious red-gold eyes were almost defiant. Then I’d best not fail.

  Lianodel nodded with a flicker of a smile, and turned to Rhodoban.

  “Return, my son. We will start our journey westward at the first glimmer of dawn. Our feet will be swift. We will meet you soon.”

  Melody opened her eyes, and watched Rhodoban sit up. He rubbed his temples with his hands, and there was such a huge sadness in him … she could feel it in the silence, and though she would ease his pain if she could, there was nothing she could do.

  His wife was dead, his children were distant … and still he stayed with them, still he fought alongside them, still he traveled towards an uncertain future with them. He stayed not just because of her song, but because he believed they could win. No, she knew, he believed she could win, and he would go with her to the end. He was not the only one. She took a deep breath, struggling with the weight of such belief.

  “Did it work?” Jovan asked, helping Melody sit up.

  She nodded. “They’ll come,” she said.

  Rhodoban stretched. “Get what real sleep you can, Melody. Morning will come too soon.”

  Melody knew her words were not enough, but she offered them regardless. “Thank you for your help, friend. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  He smiled at her, but his eyes were tired. “I’ll wager you’ll be reaching her dreams on your own soon enough,” he said. “I’ve not seen a talent you do not have, or cannot learn.”

  31

  “Imagine it like a braid,” Melody instructed, as she had been doing for several weeks. True to Rhodoban’s prediction, she had learned quickly how to walk the dreams of the elves, connecting with Lianodel and bringing as many as five dreamers into the same space to teach them the chants. “Your voices will focus and strengthen mine.” For a visual, she deftly braided the wide section of white hair - the price she had paid for victory in Porthold - with two chunks of black hair.

  A few of the students frowned. “None of us have magic in our voices, though,” one spoke up. “How can that work?”

  “A mountain doesn’t sing alone,” Melody said. “But when you call to the stone it calls back, and the sound is just as real. When I speak these chants and all of you join me, the power will grow just as the sound will. It is crucial that you know them, so commit them to memory. You will need to add your voices to mine the moment I begin. Let’s start from the beginning.”

  Every night for weeks she had spent more than half her sleep training the elves, two and three and now five at a time. Although she did not speak or understand the language, the main chants were as familiar to her now as her own name: she could call forth the Breaking, the Bonding, and the Banishing without a thought.

  Even the new chant, which Crestus had presented to her and Duke Thordike shortly after the disaster at Midlands Crossing, was at home on her lips.

  He had composed it using the other chants as a guide - an inspired idea, she had to admit. He had listened when she lamented how the ancient magic was only for Semaj, that his troops would still be as much of a threat as they had been at the Crossing. The goal of the new chant was to imitate the Breaking, only it would remove the enchantments from everyone. As Crestus had told them, it would act like Jovan’s sword - the dead could not be reawakened.

  Melody only drew the lesson to a close when she felt the familiar vibration in the magic as they all spoke in unison, and she was certain they had all felt it.

  “That,” she said when they’d let the sound fade, still echoing in the dream space. “That feeling is what we want, that’s what will give these chants the strength to stop Semaj. We can stop him,” she assured them. “We will.”

  “I mean no disrespect,” one of the older elves said, “but will you make it that far?”

  Melody was accustomed to the question. Her pregnancy was … pronounced, and rumor of her unborn son’s condition had reached the Elves early on. The full moon was only a week away. “I plan to,” she answered calmly. “However, if I do not, there is another with the magic. She will lead you. Focus on remembering,” she advised as the dreamers woke, one by one.

  She didn’t tell them the other mage was a child of five. She didn’t say how Elee was still taken with drawing in the dirt and playing Seek and Hide amongst the nightly tents. The elves wouldn’t know how Duke Thordike insisted his daughter would never face Semaj, how he fumed that Melody had purposefully turned his entire family into her personal guard. Each night Jovan reminded the Duke of what was at stake, and Lady Marina gently assured her husband that Melody couldn’t control who developed which gifts but she was glad to help. The elves didn’t need to know.

  It was an argument none of them could win, she knew. Much like her own fight to save her child, there were questions that didn’t matter and answers that didn’t solve anything. The cold truth was that there was no other option than the one that presented itself.

  When the last elf had gone, Melody brought herself deep within, to consider her son. She had discovered that he dreamed, but not in a way that she could interact with. Instead, she simply held herself near him, giving him her assurance that he would be well cared for, whatever may come. She
also gave him every memory of his father that she could conjure - Jovan was much more likely to survive the battle against Semaj, so the boy should know his father best of all.

  “Melody? Melody! Wake up!”

  The voice that intruded on her dream was loud and panicked, accompanied by a desperate shaking of her shoulder that rocked her head from side to side. She opened her eyes to see Edwin, Arik at his side, their faces pale with terror.

  “What is it?” she asked, struggling to sit up.

  Arik offered her his arm. “Duke Korith is back but there’s something in the snow,” he said, the words tumbling from his lips. “There’s a storm and he brought his soldiers but they’re dying and we can’t see how!”

  “Is he in the circle? Is there a circle?” Since she was so sorely needed to teach the chants to magic users both awake and in her sleep, casting the nightly protective circle around the encampment had fallen to others.

  “We took it up,” Edwin said, grabbing her other arm and pulling her to her feet. “It was almost time to move out, but then Duke Korith rode in, screaming to get you.”

  Melody grabbed her cloak and fastened it as she strode out of the tent. Hers was the only one still standing, she saw, they had been letting her sleep as long as possible before getting underway once more. Snow surged violently across the landscape, blurring her vision and whipping her hair across her eyes. She could hear screaming under the wind, and with the boys at her side, Melody stopped and reached for the magic.

  “Show me,” she whispered, her eyes closed, and the strands of magic that made up everyone and everything lit up - a rainbow of meaning that only she could read.

  Wraiths, she told Jovan, knowing he was some distance away, searching for the source of the danger on his way back to her with Aggravain at his side. She tipped her head, finding each one - there were three wraiths in all, well-fed and hungry for more, but far from each other in the blinding snow. Drawing them together as she had in Porthold would be difficult. Impossible, if she wanted to save as many lives as she could.