Song of the Worlds Boxed Set

by Brandon Barr

  “I would not,” Praseme said with confidence. “Every life has value. If you’ve done something—some transgression—do not let it swallow you. Make it right with the rest of your life. We all do things we regret. The scorn of the gods is only upon those who live without regret. Without acknowledging their failings.”

  Meluscia turned and buried her face into Praseme’s shoulder. This unpolluted women had told her what she knew in her mind rationally, but hadn’t known in her heart, touchable, tangible. Meluscia had thought she knew the sacred writings…that the letters had bled into her soul so deeply she could live them out.

  She’d deceived herself.

  Praseme’s hands gently stroked her back. Meluscia felt this woman’s warm acceptance and wondered if this was what friendship felt like. As the Luminar’s daughter, she had been cloistered away from the common world outside the palace.

  If this was what she’d been missing her entire life—this open hearted honesty—now that she felt it, she didn’t want to let it go.

  Meluscia lifted her head and wiped her eyes with her gown. She took Praseme’s hands in hers and squeezed them. “Thank you. You’ve been like a friend. May I…call you friend?”

  Praseme’s moonlit smile was extravagant. “Of course you can!” she said.

  Praseme’s exuberance brought a smile to Meluscia’s face. Then suddenly she was laughing, and so was Praseme. Loud, unashamed laughter, and Meluscia’s heart drank it in.

  This was what a friend could do. This healing. She would never let it go.

  There came a sound from the stairs, and a form stepped out into the shadows.

  “Who’s out here!” said a rough voice.

  “It is Meluscia, the Luminess Imminent. Who are you?”

  “My apologies, I am Gavsawyer. I am here to ring the bell. Mayor Brucite is looking for you. Riders have come from the Verdlands.”

  CHAPTER 27

  MELUSCIA

  “The riders from the Verdlands are asking for the Luminar’s daughter,” said Mayor Brucite as he led Meluscia down the hall.

  “It must be urgent if they wish to speak with me at this hour. But I don’t understand how they found me. The Hold gave no announcement of my coming.”

  “I do not think they are sent from the King, for they are a strange looking group.” The Mayor turned and said in a low voice, “They say they have a Tongue with them. I counted only five in their party. Three men, a young woman and a child.”

  A Tongue?

  The news sent chills running over her skin.

  Was it possible?

  Had the Makers returned to aid men again? There hadn’t been a true prophet in fifty years.

  And if it was true, why did they want to see her?

  Anxiousness began to quicken her heart. Tongues were prophets who spoke good and bad, but on a whole, the histories were far more ripe with words of doom than of hope.

  _____

  The band from the Verdlands stood huddled together upon the stone floor. Meluscia descended the stairs into the Mayor’s hall and spotted the five travelers. By the look of their clothing and demeanor, they certainly were not sent from King Feaor. Each of the five wore poor farmers’ cloaks, or shirts, stained and frayed at the edges. And each had rough leather pants, even the girl. In truth, they looked more like a band of outcasts, or vagabonds. than a party she might imagine having a Tongue.

  The girl the Mayor had mentioned looked to be only fifteen or so. Of the three men, only one was not bent and ragged. The two older men had long grey beards, and one’s face was withered like dried fruit with a long thin nose. The younger man looked close to Meluscia’s age, and he held the hand of the small boy who peered at her from behind his leg.

  It dawned on Meluscia that this was her first official dealing as Luminess Imminent. The atmosphere felt thick with meaning. All eyes turned to her as her foot touched the floor of the hall.

  “Welcome, travelers,” said Meluscia. “I am told you were looking for me. Is there something I or the power of the Hold can do for you?”

  The young man spoke from where he stood, “Thank you for seeing us so quickly. I am Wiluit. A hunter from a region north of the Verdlands. The others with me are from far and wide. We would tell you more, but there is urgency behind our meeting you. We would have waited to talk with you when you woke in the morning, but there is one in our number who bears the Tongue of the gods. If you are the daughter of the Luminar, he has a message for you.”

  “I am the Luminar’s daughter,” said Meluscia, as calmly as she could manage. “What is the message?”

  The boy tugged at Wiluit’s shirt from where he hid behind the hunter’s leg. Wiluit took a knee and the boy whispered in his ear.

  Meluscia steadied herself.

  Wiluit frowned, and whispered something back to the boy. Finally, Wiluit rose to his feet. “This boy is the gods’ Tongue. He says you are not the daughter he is looking for. Is there another?”

  Meluscia teetered on the edge of relief and insult. The Speaker had not come for her? But…what in the heavens could the gods want with Savarah?

  “I have a sister, but she is not the blood daughter of the Luminar. She is his mercy child.”

  Wiluit nodded. “May we speak with her? I believe it is urgent.”

  Meluscia looked to Mayor Brucite. “Is Savarah still gone?”

  “She never arrived,” said the Mayor.

  Meluscia tried to recall the last words Savarah spoke to her. She had gone to talk to someone about the quickest path through the Verdlands. Who they were, or where they lived, Savarah had not said.

  Meluscia noticed something strange about the young girl who was with them. Her face had gone pale, and she was staring at Meluscia’s dress. Suddenly, the girl took hold of the old bearded man’s hand and he bent down. Quietly the girl spoke in his ear.

  Wiluit was about to speak when the old man stopped him with a throaty growl. “We need to have council,” he said.

  Immediately the five huddled together and began speaking quietly amongst themselves. It wasn’t long before they stood and Wiluit rushed up to Meluscia, stopping just before her with a dire look.

  “Gather together men and weapons,” he said fiercely. “Your sister is in grave danger.”

  Terror gripped Meluscia. Wiluit’s eerie confidence in his own words was unnerving. The fear on his face was palpable. Savarah was in terrible danger.

  “Lord Mayor,” called out Meluscia, “Give me your best fighting men, and quickly.”

  The mayor turned to the handful of guards who were standing along the walls. “Rouse the others. Tell them to come now—they don’t have time to dress.”

  “What kind of danger is she in?” Meluscia asked Wiluit.

  Wiluit’s eyes held her own. He reached out and took her right hand in both of his. The bold move startled Meluscia. “A man and a woman are close to killing her. She is tied down in their house. I am sorry to have to tell you this.” Wiluit released Meluscia’s hand and went to a window and looked out. “The girl and the boy will join us,” he said loudly. “They will lead us to where she is. What is your sister’s name?”

  “It is Savarah,” said Meluscia, and turned to look again at the young girl in Wiluit’s group. She found the girl’s eyes were on her. Fear couched her face, but beyond that, there was something else. Something akin to disgust.

  And for some reason, Meluscia was certain it was directed at herself.

  More men rushed into the room with swords, looking disheveled and wearing dingy cloaks or the shirts they had slept in.

  “Meet us out front on your horses,” called Wiluit, moving to the door. “We ride immediately.”

  LOAM

  Hurrah!

  Your account of the Guardian’s abuse has sent the quorums at the Hall of Discourse into a frenzy. I can hardly believe the Guardians have made such a grievous mistake. The majority of Royals are in disarray and the Opposition Movement is both vindicated and emboldened. This could be the
moment we seize control! I will announce tomorrow that I am shifting my allegiance to the Opposition.

  As long as you have signed contracts with your farmers, you can mete out justice however you deem fit.

  The signed letter, and the basket of heads we sent to Karience may drive her to do more foolishness. Let us watch and wait.

  Your affectionate sister,

  -Queen Taia

  (letter to her brother, Baron Rhaudius)

  CHAPTER 28

  WINTER

  Laughter spilled through the recreation room. The entire scene felt surreal with all the Guardians there—even Karience and Nephitus. The entire group sat on a long cushioned sofa curved into a semi-circle. Zoecara had tried to entice everyone into sharing a story about their first kiss and their…first time. Winter had had no idea what that last phrase meant until the VOKK slowly brought the innuendo into her mind. Winter became immediately uncomfortable as she came to understand the crude request.

  Hark’s first kiss story had confused Winter. It quickly became clear that the traditions of the farmers were very different than other worlds’ cultures. First Kiss on the farmland was part of the nuptials proceeding being mated. But clearly, that tradition did not exist elsewhere, for Hark’s first kiss was a literal first kiss with no promise of being bound to the other. He didn’t give many details, only that he was ten, and that the girl had surprised him with the kiss—which he promptly wiped from his lips.

  Winter had smirked, thinking back to the time she was five or six, and was pretending she was in nuptials with a boy from plot two. He was by himself, looking for bugs or something when she’d told him to stand up. The moment he did, she kissed him quickly on the lips. She never did get his name, but he’d wrinkled his nose and glared at her as if she’d poked him with a sewing needle. Not so dissimilar from Hark’s first kiss.

  Zoecara had prodded Hark to tell his first time story, but he had rolled his eyes and said, “I’ll pass.”

  “You go, Daeymara!” said Zoecara with enthusiasm. “Yours is hilarious!”

  Daeymara held a very serious look. “Not tonight.”

  “What?” exclaimed Zoecara. “Why not? You’ve told worse stories before.”

  Winter noticed Daeymara’s eyes flash briefly in her direction—just to her left, at Aven.

  “I’ll pass this time,” she said, sweeping her hair behind her ear.

  Zoecara jumped in and told her story next. She was from an upworld, and unlike the farm people who had families, on Zoecara’s world, one simply mated at will with anyone, and with no expectation to stay together longer than the night. She said she couldn’t remember her first kiss, but her first time story was uncomfortably detailed. She had no qualms saying exactly what her lover’s mouth was doing, and which part of her his hands were touching. Winter wanted to shrink from the room. Fortunately, the lurid descriptions ended when her lover got angry at a barking dog outside the window of the abandoned building they were in. He’d tried to throw a half empty bottle of ale at the animal, but being intoxicated, his throw went high, and shards of glass had rained down over Zoecara’s bosom, along with half a pint of ale. Winter couldn’t understand why Zoecara would ever share such an experience out loud. It was so filthy and cheap.

  When Zoecara finished, Winter found herself off balance as she tried to understand the culture of an upworld. On the farm, Zoecara would have belonged in the Baron’s harem.

  “Now come on,” said Zoecara, baring her teeth. “I dare someone to try and top that!”

  Winter furrowed her eyebrows. If Zoecara really suspected her and Aven of being Shadowmen, then she was very good at not showing it. So spirited, as if she held no concern.

  Winter recalled Zoecara’s words about Pike when she and Aven first arrived. She had promised not to forget who Pike really was. His history. Had that been an act?

  Suddenly, Zoecara’s eyes were on her and Winter looked away. She felt her face burning and hoped the dim lights hid the flush of red on her cheeks.

  The laughter had died down. Hark’s mate entered the rec room holding their youngest child. The woman came up behind him, caressed the side of his face then whispered something in his ear.

  Hark nodded. “The Dolphin Moon is four days away. Akexi is wondering what wine to buy for this year’s swim.”

  “The sape wine from Kyrnae’s vineyards,” said Rueik. “The princess may be opposed to our presence, but her winepress makes a fine glass of chardonnay!”

  Karience stood. “I’m retiring for the evening. Thank you, all, for your stories and entertainment tonight.” She walked a few paces, then turned to face everyone. “As to the Dolphin Moon festivity, the only thing I request is the presence of soldiers this year.”

  “Are you going?” asked Nephitus.

  “Not after losing three Emissaries,” said Karience. “I think after what has happened so far this year, we should be more cautious. I think it prudent that not all of us are in the same place unless it is within the confines of this building or the portal overlook, inside the protected zone.”

  Nephitus came beside Karience. “I’d advise the same. A contingent of soldiers should be present.”

  Karience nodded to Hark. “See that the guards are informed.”

  “I will, Empyrean.”

  “As for tonight, I have duties. I bid you goodnight.”

  Karience and Nephitus left the room, leaving an uncomfortable silence.

  Winter was surprised to hear her brother speak first. “Do Missionaries always have so much free time?” asked Aven. “The Warden and the Empyrean always seem busy, but…what kind of schedule do you have?”

  “We do have a lot of time on our hands,” said Hark. “That’s because we’re in training for twenty months here on Loam, and our training has mostly ended—except for Arentiss, she’s the newest. Been here ten months, but she’s so damn smart, she’s nearly completed the training phase.”

  Winter noticed Arentiss’s expressionless face give way to a small glint of pride.

  “The Guardians have this tradition,” said Rueik. “They allow their Missionaries several months of freedom before they are sent on their mission. A good tradition, if I may say so.”

  “What is the Dolphin Moon?” asked Winter.

  Zoecara spoke first. “It is the night when the moon’s orbit comes closest to Loam. The Missionaries go down to the beach at midnight, when the moon is directly overhead. It’s become tradition here at the enclave. We swim with the dolphin pods that gather beyond the breakers. It’s quite thrilling to see their bodies in the moonlight. There are thousands of them that gather here at these beaches.”

  “If you are lucky,” said Daeymara, “you may even get to ride one of the creatures.”

  “What does a dolphin look like?” asked Winter.

  “You don’t know?” said Hark.

  Winter looked at Aven, who shrugged and shook his head.

  “Do you know, Pike?” asked Zoecara.

  A toothy grin spread across his face. “I’m hoping its some kind of…friendly fish?”

  The Missionaries looked about ready to explode with laughter. All but one.

  “A dolphin breathes air, and is a mammal, having lungs and no gills,” said Arentiss, breaking her silence. “They do look a lot like fish, but they are large. Almost twice the size of Hark.”

  “Leave it to you, Arentiss,” said Rueik. “We could have told them it was a furry octopus or something.”

  “We shouldn’t tease them too much,” said Arentiss. “They could probably embarrass all of us over our lack of farming knowledge.”

  “I heard a rumor,” said Zoecara, “that one of our Emissaries bought a farm.”

  Zoecara’s head turned toward Winter and her brother. A curious smile edged her lips.

  “The rumor is true,” said Aven.

  Winter could hear the pride in his voice.

  “Where we come from,” continued Aven, “owning your own farm is the greatest achievement one cou
ld attain, beyond raising a family. Our farm on Baron Rhaudius’s land was not ours. We were little more than slaves, and none of us had any chance of escaping our fates. But tomorrow evening, I will receive a certificate of ownership. I will have my own farm.”

  “I can only imagine how it must feel, buying your own land,” said Hark.

  “Where is your new farm?” asked Rueik.

  “North of here,” said Aven, “about an hour’s walk. Where the rolling hills start to form below the mountains.”

  “The Green Dune Territory,” said Arentiss. “It is an aesthetically pleasant property.”

  “Beautiful, you mean,” said Rueik, and winked at Arentiss.

  “We will all have to visit you, Aven,” said Daeymara. “On my homeworld, it would be customary for your friends to throw you a party.”

  “That’s an excellent idea,” said Zoecara.

  Winter was about to send Aven a finger message, but he spoke first.

  “If anyone wants to join me tomorrow evening, you’re welcome to come. And you can behold the certificate for yourself!”

  Winter squeezed his hand. Her brother’s voice had never sounded so full of joy and confidence. It reminded her of their father. How he spoke when he purchased a new tool from the blacksmith. But this was far grander!

  “Let’s all go tomorrow,” said Hark. “We can pack food from the kitchen.”

  “Yes,” said Rueik. “I’ll get a few bottles of wine and a pie from the bakery. Who is coming?”

  Winter stuffed down her annoyance as every person chimed in that they wanted to go. It appeared everyone would be joining them. She had pictured tomorrow evening much differently. Just her and Aven.

  As long as Aven was happy, though, she could allow for company. She gave one last look at Zoecara and found the girl’s dusty brown eyes waiting for her. Winter held her gaze.

  Zoecara smiled sweetly.

  Winter didn’t know what else to do but return the smile, then look away. Was Rueik being irrational? Was he overreacting somehow? Or was Zoecara hiding her suspicions behind an incredibly composed mask?