Arise

by Tanya Schofield

  Her son began to fuss behind her, awakened by her song. Her son, she realized. That was it. She stood, leaving the Healing to the others, and turned towards the baby.

  “Melody? What’s wrong?” Jovan’s voice was thick with worry.

  “I can’t heal the Duke,” she admitted, reaching for her son. She had given every last scrap of power she could at the end. When she let it go, when she had killed them both with the power, it must have … gone. She looked into at the dark, curious eyes of her infant son, and regretted nothing. “My magic is gone,” she said.

  “Duke Thordike will live,” Senna assured Lady Marina. “The wound may pain him for a day or two, but I’m sure there will be others who need Healing before the night is through. We should conserve our gifts.” She paused, then looked up at Jovan. “Are we certain Semaj is …?”

  “He’s dead.” Jovan’s tone was final. “I took his head off myself. I imagine they were both crushed when the hillside collapsed.”

  “That was the third chant,” Melody explained. “The Banishing. It destroyed every part of him, everything he ever created. Even the Witherin.”

  “So it worked.” Bethcelamin’s relief echoed all of theirs. “He can’t come back.”

  “We need to go,” Jovan said, stepping past Bethcelamin and Thordike. The Duke had regained consciousness and had propped himself up on his elbow to accept hugs from the tear-faced twins.

  Between the curious crowd and and their swallowed, half-spoken questions, the short walk to the tent seemed to take forever. Lianodel was waiting at the entrance, and held it open for Jovan and Melody. Senna was close behind, and she lit several candles to lend warmth, and chase away the darkness.

  “Sit, Melody.” Jovan sat behind her and positioned himself so she was cushioned against his chest. She used her cloak to cover herself and the baby, who squirmed and kicked restlessly.

  “What happened?” Senna asked. “With Duke Thordike. Your magic…”

  “She’s drained,” Lianodel observed, taking a seat across from them. “She used a tremendous amount of power out there, and the birth was difficult.”

  “Not that I’m not grateful, but I’m still wondering why he’s not … like Aggravain.” Jovan touched his son’s cheek, amazed.

  Melody breathed in the warm smell of her baby boy, tucking the cloak around her son’s tiny kicking feet, and did not look up as she answered. “He is,” she said. “Exactly like him. Down to the cure.”

  “I thought there was no cure,” Jovan said.

  “The still birth,” Senna realized, remembering how Aggravain had woken without the curse after sacrificing himself to save Jovan’s life. “The baby died.”

  “The curse died,” Melody corrected her. “My son lived. But the cost… “ she paused, lost in thought as the baby wriggled in her embrace. She had no regrets, of course, but the magic had defined her for as long as she could remember. Who was she now, without it?

  “It took everything I had,” she finally said.

  “Magic is never truly gone, child.” Lianodel offered her a soft smile, watching the new mother try to soothe her restless son. “It may dim or remain distant, it may change and never be the same as it once was, but it doesn’t simply disappear.”

  A tear hovered on Melody’s lower lashes as she considered the consequences. “How will I protect him?”

  Jovan wiped the tear away with his thumb. “Whatever is left in this world to fear will have to get through me before it touches either one of you. But the biggest threat is gone. You did that.”

  Melody fell silent, and focused on shifting the baby to find a comfortable position for both of them. When he seemed to calm a little, she looked over at Lianodel, who sat motionless, almost meditative. The elf seemed tired, and there was a small scratch on one cheek.

  “Lianodel … why could I not find your dream? Were you delayed?”

  The older woman closed her eyes in a long blink before she returned Melody’s gaze. “We knew there was little time, but even our speed was not enough. We had to make certain we arrived in time, so we traveled through the night.” Her voice was steady, though strained and tired. “And it was in the night that he struck. Semaj sent out a force of undead – even with the advance warning our scouts were able to give, we were vastly outnumbered.”

  Melody’s eyes went wide with worry, despite the fact that the elves had obviously survived the fight and made it to the final battle in time to turn the tide.

  “We were already tired from the journey, but we fought with everything we could give. We knew we had to hurry if we were to give you the help you needed. It was obvious, at least to me, that Semaj was desperate to keep us apart. His plan nearly succeeded.”

  “Nearly … what happened, what changed?” The baby was finally still, though awake and alert, with his fist wrapped securely in Melody’s curls. She kept her voice to a whisper.

  “It was your friends who turned the tide,” Lianodel smiled. “They came from out of nowhere, it seemed. We did not see them at first, but without warning the force we were struggling with was split. Our archers had been caught unprepared, but arrows began to rain down on the undead warriors, these bearing fire. It was … effective.”

  Senna smiled proudly. “It was Aggravain, wasn’t it? He went out early with the other scouts.”

  Lianodel gave a tiny laugh, barely more than a breath. “There was little time for introductions,” she said. “We may have succeeded without their aid, but there would not have been enough of us left to be any use here. As soon as the last of the undead fell, they showed us the fastest way to where we were needed.” She paused again, and closed her eyes in another long blink.

  “You haven’t slept, then?” Senna stood and reached out her hand to the exhausted elf, who shook her head almost imperceptibly. “Come, you can rest in my tent.”

  Lianodel took the offered hand as she stood, and smiled down at Melody and her son, both cradled in Jovan’s arms. The baby had begun to fuss noisily, kicking once again. “Yes, I believe I will. You did well, Melody. You have my gratitude, and the gratitude of my people.”

  When Senna and the elf had left, Melody finally let herself relax against Jovan, who laid his cheek against the top of her head and reached out to rub his son’s back.

  Melody began to sing.

  The familiar, simple lullaby was soft and comforting. It held no power to defeat a swarm of Witherin rats or defend against Korith’s soldiers - only the magic of a mother’s love. Under that spell, tucked against Melody with Jovan’s hand huge and warm against him, the baby gradually stopped crying and gave an enormous yawn.

  The music trailed off and their son sighed in his sleep, and for just a moment, everything was quiet and peaceful. Neither of them spoke, letting the moment last.

  “What should we name him?” Jovan whispered, not wanting to wake the comfortable infant.

  “I’ve considered one,” she admitted, hesitating now that the time had come to say it aloud. She had chosen the name the moment she knew he was a boy, but would Jovan—

  “Tell me,” he said, smiling against her hair.

  “I’d like to call him Kaeliph – if that’s all right?” Melody felt Jovan’s breath catch.

  “It’s a good name,” he finally said, his voice rough with emotion. “My brother would approve.”

  Thank you!

  Dearest Reader,

  I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t all up in my feelings right now. 2018 was some kind of year, amiright? Not everyone gets to say they spent the year perfecting and publishing a story they’ve been trying to tell almost as long as they can remember.

  YOU are why I can say that, and the majority of my gratitude is - as ever - reserved for you. Thank you for staying with me to the last page.

  There are some friends I need to thank for being instrumental in making it all happen - not just this book, but me - the me who was finally able to get Melody’s story told.

  Danielle, who probably doesn’t thi
nk she’s as important as she is, but whose friendship means the world to me: you are what I miss most from that lifetime.

  Molly, who was the other best thing to happen to me in 2018: you are so much more than you believe yourself to be. I see you. I’ve got you.

  Jennifer, who is one of the few people to have known me before Melody was even a thought in my head: I am inspired every day by you and your giant heart, infectious laughter, and unfathomable strength. I wish you tiny bubbles and the wisdom to only weld in the desert.

  … and my Water Signs, my crew, my girls, the ones who see through me, who lift me up and call me out. Kathleen, Kristina, Cathy … Because I knew you, I have been changed - for good.

  Lastly, thank you to Andrew at Cobble Publishing: You've been a rock and a lighthouse and a really cool pair of goggles, helping me see the bigger and smaller pictures of the story I’m telling— no wait. At this point, it’s told.

  Oh, look. Feelings. Again.

  This isn’t over over. I never actually stop writing, so I’m sure we’ll meet again, in another book. Until then, you can find me (and all my internet haunts) at tanyaschofield.com

  Thank you again, from the bottom of my heart.