Iris's Guardian (White Tigers of Brigantia Book 2)

by Lisa Daniels

  “Oh, I’m always scared. Every day could be the last,” Elise replied flatly. “It just seems so pointless at times. I don’t see how the humans in the mines can experience any better. I don’t see how any humans can be better. Even here, where we’re dressed cleaner and eat healthier, it’s still like a game. How do we avoid that wyrm? How can we aggravate them the least? How do we get through the day without wanting to end it all?”

  Brann sucked at his teeth, eyebrows rising. The scar on the left side of his jaw pinched in slightly. A small spike of fear went through Elise. She’d told him too much. Far too much. He didn’t need to know the inner workings of her mind.

  Then again, he already knew too much, even without her saying anything. She went to scoop up Ratty as a comforter, just needing something to hold. She clutched Ratty’s frayed limb in her right hand.

  “That’s because the world is broken,” Brann said, startling Elise. “Even the wyrms know somewhere that it’s true. They know they have something missing. Don’t you think it’s odd just how hateful they are all the time?”

  Elise didn’t, honestly. She just thought they were born in hate, soaked themselves in it and grew up spreading such emotions around, so she said nothing.

  Brann continued with his explanation. “Humans, for all their miseries, have a balance of emotions at least. Any of them can be noble if you give them the right circumstances. It’s the same with drakes. But with wyrms, Elise, their emotions are out of balance. They hate too easily. They always go to the extreme end of whatever they’re feeling. And they don’t really know how to love. Even Karris – who you say loves her father – doesn’t, really. She loves attention. And her father – he loves status, craves it, which is why he has me around and you around. We are his meal tickets.” He paced in her room, hands clasped behind his back. The words stirred curiosity, helping to tug Elise out of her stupor. “That’s the thing, Elise. They’re missing something. Something in the soul.” He took one hand to tap his chest. He stared at her expectantly. Waiting to see if she gleaned understanding from his insight.

  “I don’t think missing something is a valid excuse to keep treating people like this,” Elise said.

  “No. Perhaps not. People will be cruel regardless.” Brann nodded. “But I do think it’s too extreme with the wyrms. I can quite honestly say I’ve never met one that I’ve liked much at all. I can tolerate some, though. Obviously.”

  Elise snorted at this. She considered his words, appreciating the distraction they provided from her chaotic thoughts, the nagging despair eating away inside her. Distractions were good. And for whatever reason, lyrics came harder to her today. Perhaps something to do with her mood. Perhaps something to do with her current lack of imagination.

  “Is there even something like a soul? Or is that a lie we tell ourselves to make us sleep better at night?”

  “There is.” Brann stopped pacing. His eyes widened, indignant from the question. One hand seemed to reach for her, maybe to shake some sense into her bones. “Of course there is. You should know better than anyone, because your music touches it. That’s not just emotions you’re stirring. It’s something deeper.”

  Elise’s initial impulse was to sincerely doubt it, and she even built up the rejection in her lungs before she hesitated, wiping away all her presumptions. Forcing herself into a state of neither belief nor disbelief. “Maybe.”

  “Sing,” he said. “Sing the song that’s in your heart right now. I’ll prove it.”

  Again, the impulse to do something idiotic, like a nonsense song, bubbled into her. She didn’t have any music in her right now. Nothing came to her.

  That wasn’t entirely true, was it? Something scratched there. Waiting to be heard. Fighting past all the fog in her mind that made everything hard to access.

  I’m scared, she realized. Scared he’s right. I’m trying to deflect – to think of something else. But why am I so scared? It doesn’t even make sense.

  She took deep breaths. This time, she didn’t bother with words. She just sang the tune that came easiest to her. This one didn’t have words. It changed depending on her mood. It vibrated out, compressing her lungs, tingling her blood. It made her heart pump faster, and the hairs upon her skin shoot upwards.

  Yes. The reason to sing. It existed in the power of this voice, of the music in her soul.

  She didn’t look at Brann for a few moments, but when she finally glanced towards him, she saw his face had crumpled into something raw and painful. Alarmed, she stopped.

  “Brann?” He didn’t respond at first. She inquired again, louder.

  He reacted by patting his chest again, where the heart was. “It hurt. Your song hurt.”

  Hurt? He went and sat on her bed, slightly dazed, and cradled his head in his hands. The unexpected emotional outburst from him humbled her, made her wonder. She doubted this to be a trick for him. No benefit in lying about this.

  “It’s so sad. You see? You understand? Normal music makes you sad and happy, sure. But your kind of music influences something deeper. It digs so hard that we don’t know how to handle it.” He gave her a wry smile. Still a little out of it.

  Elise felt like a ghost drifting out of her body, trying to deal with the understanding Brann gave her. He was so pale, drained, like someone had siphoned all the blood from his face. “Let me describe to you clearer what it’s like. I feel as if someone’s stabbed a dagger into my heart, and now I’m left to deal with the aftermath. I feel like there’s no light, and it would be better if I just died.”

  Elise’s entire body turned to ice. That came disturbingly close to the same message she allowed to wander around in her brain.

  Brann crinkled one corner of his mouth. They were so close, both sitting on the bed. How short was the distance? Eight inches? Nine? “So, Elise, as much as I admire your singing, I have a favor to ask. Can you hum a happier tune? Please?”

  Still encased in that mental block of ice, Elise complied, humming a short, jaunty tune which seemed to return color into Brann’s cheeks. Seeing the transformation added extra dimensions of realization, extra weight to her mind.

  Definitely not tricking her, then.

  He gulped greedy breaths, before letting out a chuckle. “Your song is a weapon. I think you could drive people to such sadness that they want to die. Several of that kind of tune in succession might do it.” He reached over to grasp her hand, and it emanated heat in hers. It helped warm the shock coursing through her body. “But I also think you might be able to fix what is broken. Just as you can pull us down, you can fire us up. You can build us up. And I think that’s what you need to try with Tarken. He’s changing, Elise. You might not realize it, but he’s honestly changing.”

  Elise didn’t dare say anything.

  “You’re so precious…” he whispered, before leaning over to kiss her upon the forehead. Tender and sweet, his free hand wrapped around her scalp. “And you must never waste that strength inside you.” He rested his lips against her forehead. Such a foreign sensation against her skin. Now the heat traveled through her body, leaving a small fever there. “If you feel unsafe at any point, seek me out. I’ll do what I can.”

  After a long time, Elise nodded. Her cheeks burned as hot as lit coals right now. Her heart beat so fast. Her legs trembled. She probably couldn’t manage any sort of standing up. Not without everything giving way beneath her. When his lips withdrew contact, she still felt the essence of it upon her forehead, like his lips had branded a mark there. In a short, wild moment, she wanted to feel those lips pressed on her again. To have that mark against her mouth, to stay there forever. To have those hands not on her scalp and other palm, but around her body, touching her skin.

  Surely with the coals burning in her cheeks, Brann would notice. Surely she stood out like a light in the darkness.

  But also… something about the softness of that touch baffled her. It caused something to squeeze painfully inside, as if her intestines now twisted themselves into knots.<
br />
  What’s happening to me?

  Brann laughed softly. “I see you’re having troubles of your own with processing.”

  “I…” Tears leapt into her eyes, and his amusement turned into alarm. He didn’t understand, of course, what set her off. Neither did she.

  “Did I say something wrong?”

  “I…” An inkling of knowledge reached inside. “I’ve never been touched like that before.”

  A little of that deep sadness entered his eyes again. “Oh. Oh, you poor thing.” He took her into his arms again, this time squashing her against his chest, now rubbing her hair, ruffling up the blonde strands into a mess. “I’m so sorry. I should have realized. Being all alone in that little hut, of course you haven’t…”

  It was easy to cry when someone hurt her physically or mentally. Or to hold all of it back, instead letting herself boil with resentment.

  But when someone showed her kindness, for some reason it increased the pain – a different kind of throbbing than the others.

  Because in that moment, she realized what she was missing. What she should have had, but never received, never cherished. And that someone, without any obligation on their end, gave it to her.

  Simple and complicated at the same time. Unable to handle it, Elise started bawling into his chest, balling up her fingers. Sobs ripped apart her lungs and clogged her throat.

  Brann kept murmuring to her. This big, strong drake who won direct fights with superb skill and technical prowess, with that huge scar raking through his chin, splitting the crimson hair that coated his face – comforting her. Of all people. Or perhaps he was exactly the person to do it. Somehow, he had treasured that kindness in his heart, wrapping it in a safe layer of a rough and beaten exterior. Someone who had obviously experienced the bad chunks of life.

  But cared all the same.

  “You’re going to get my shirt very, very wet,” Brann observed, still stroking her hair. She let out a choking laugh.

  They eventually broke apart with smiles.

  “I should go to my training now,” he said, lifting a finger to dab away one stray tear just trickling out the corner of her eye. “Take your time to feel a little better, then come. Wouldn’t want to miss you.”

  She leaned ever so slightly into his touch, before nodding. Swallowing the last of the sadness.

  “Sorry about the shirt.”

  “Eh,” he said. “I’ll be taking it off anyway.”

  She grinned. Best not to let that visual overpower the others…

  Chapter Six

  Brann held a talent for cheering Elise up. The only things that had managed that impressive feat in the past were Ratty, Isera, singing, and good food after a long day working. The drake now found himself a spot on that honored list, and he catapulted himself to the peak of it. He filled a void in her life she never managed before to give a name to.

  The drake helped train her for about an hour as well, helping her to keep her mind off things by trying to punch him. Unfortunately, she did find herself rather distracted by his figure. So muscular. Such impressive technique and incredible speed. And those arms, earlier on, they’d been wrapped around her, comforting her from the world’s evils.

  Hard not to get attracted to that. She didn’t want to scare him off, though. The last thing he needed was for the person he showed kindness to suddenly coming on to him. It would negate all his efforts, and throw them back to the beginning.

  Elise doubted she could contain the embarrassment from her cheeks. At least she remained capable of making a good excuse for it, like not being used to kindness.

  The day dragged on past these moments, however. She didn’t stay with Brann long, wanting time to herself before the music lesson in the evening. Part of her wanted to just fall into a deep sleep and avoid the lesson. She still didn’t know if Karris had been talked to by her father from the other day, or if the servant had been spared. She needed to find out the result, though.

  No matter how bad the result might be.

  Going into music lessons later on that afternoon, taking a break from Brann’s training, sent Elise straight into the line of fire of a furious and white-faced Karris.

  Presumably her father has talked to her. At least, if the vicious, judgmental stares were anything to go by.

  Jorus saw the animosity building up again between them and he stepped away from his piano, pissed off. Elise rarely saw him so agitated.

  “Karris, child, if you are going to constantly glare at your fellow singer like this, you will never be able to improve your voice. The anger distorts your throat. You have blockage.”

  “This little witch thinks she can say what she likes to my father!” Karris exploded, her yellow eyes swimming in hate. “She thinks she can talk to us like she’s an equal!”

  Looked like Karris didn’t want to take responsibility for what she had done. Elise expected nothing less.

  “Still angry I told him about your poisoning attempt on me?” A faint smile played upon Elise’s lips. Jorus’s gray eyebrows shot up. The grizzled instructor did not appear happy to catch this piece of news.

  “Oh, dear skies,” he snapped, now stepping between them. “Okay, get it out. Whatever it is you must say. And don’t kill each other.”

  “I didn’t do it! That wretched slave poisoned your food.”

  “Which you told him to, knowing full well that he can’t disobey your orders. Did you really think it wouldn’t be that obvious, Karris? You hate me. You don’t hide it. You’re jealous. You’re always trying to interrupt me and ruin the beat of the song. It’s not exactly a well-kept secret with the way you huff and puff about the place.”

  “How dare you speak to me like that? I don’t care that father likes you so much, you’re a horrible creature and I’ll see to it that he understands that.”

  “The only horrible creature here,” Elise iterated, “is you. You’re wasting your time with this anger. Instead of improving your singing, and working on whatever it is you want with your dad, you’re spending your time hating me. If I’m such a lowly human, then why not just waste no time on me at all? You make me important to you by obsessing over me like this.”

  “I…!” Karris spluttered, even as Jorus hummed disapprovingly. He raised up one hand to halt the wyrm’s tirade.

  “She has a point, mistress. You are, quite simply, wasting all your energy on a human.” Elise noticed Jorus’s eyes twinkle at her.

  Nice to see the drake was on her side.

  Karris looked on the verge of storming out.

  I have power with my song, right? Let’s test it. Trying not to think about how weird it was to just break out into song in the middle of a heated argument, Elise began singing, stringing words together, deciding to seek out the right emotion with the tune. What did she want? Despair? Pacification?

  No. Guilt. She needed Karris to find guilt in that black little soul of hers. Guilt and shame. Perhaps it was odd, starting a tune like this, perhaps it would be too obvious. Singing to the songs Jorus wanted her to do leached out some of the passion, making it mechanical. None of Elise’s heart and soul went into a tune that she didn’t invent herself.

  Karris needed to understand. She needed to see and stop being so damn resentful. But how did you change something like that? Certainly not by words alone.

  When Elise saw Karris’s face redden and bitter tears slide out of her eyes, she wondered if the song was working. Like it did on Brann. Honestly, the fact that Karris hadn’t launched herself at Elise’s throat came as a pleasant surprise.

  Jorus, however, stared at her sharply, placing a hand to his lips. As soon as Elise stopped, he said, “Dear child. What emotion you put into your voice! Why… I could feel shame. Ah…” He dabbed some sweat off his head. He also shot her some wary glances, as if he suspected something more than just a powerful song.

  Am I treading on dangerous ground here?

  Karris stood, shaking. Then she stepped past Jorus and yanked Elise’s arm,
pinching hard. “How dare you… how… how dare you make me feel this…” The pinch became painful, then softer, and Karris blinked in confusion, staring at the injury she’d made on Elise’s arm, even as Elise backed off from her. “I… I’m sorry.”

  Humiliation burned in Karris’s face. Other things lingered there as well. Fathomless emotions beyond the range Elise thought Karris capable of experiencing. Karris reached out another shaking hand to Elise, but Elise again avoided it. She wasn’t sure if the wyrm was really trying anymore.

  “Karris,” Elise said, her voice low, “it doesn’t have to be like this.”

  The younger woman stood silent for a moment. Then she said, “I don’t know why I hate you so much. I just see you and I get, I get so mad. It just fogs over my brain, and I think that everything’s your fault. It’s you. If you weren’t here – if humans weren’t here…” Karris took a deep, shuddering breath, more tears squeezing out. “I don’t know. It’s always here. I see it now, it’s black.”

  Elise sensed, in her own way, the fifteen-year-old was both trying to excuse her actions and apologize at the same time.

  Better than before. She doubted a wyrm would ever admit something like this by themselves. So it must be to do with her voice.

  Which meant…

  “I have a song for you, Karris,” Elise said. “I’ve been thinking of the words, thinking about how to make sense of you.” Now that Elise thought about it, she trembled slightly, wondering if she really had such magic in her voice. If she could change people. Despite all the evidence pointing her towards it, despite confirmation from Brann and even herself, a part of Elise still doubted, somehow. Plus, Karris hadn’t reacted much before. But then again, in all the times Elise had sung, she never targeted someone specifically. She didn’t sing for a person. She sang for a room, and tailored a song to suit everyone who listened. But everyone reacted in their own way, based on their life experiences.

  And right now, Elise had words for Karris. Words mulling and shaping in the back of her head. Words that made sense, that suited who Karris was as a person. Past her hate, her childish assumptions, something pulsed there.