Primeval Prelude: Book 4 in the Spellsinger Series

by Amy Sumida

  “I don't know what to say,” I whispered. “I can't explain it.”

  “Then sing to me, little bird,” Torin said. “Make me feel the way you're feeling. Help me to understand.”

  That made me pause. I had spent most of my life using my magic violently. It was only now that I was beginning to see alternate uses for it. Necessity is the mother of invention; in my desperation to make Torin listen to me, I had sung to him. He had secluded himself in his castle, and I had serenaded him from the courtyard below his tower window. I could have changed his will, but that wasn't how I wanted Torin. So, I used the music to make him listen. But I hadn't considered using it to make him feel what I was feeling. Torin's suggestion became an epiphany for me.

  Musicians have been using songs to make people feel their emotions for hundreds of years. It was what music did. And yet I—a fucking Spellsinger—had forgotten the basic power of lyrics. Simple words—without magic or music attached—could change minds and start revolutions. But add music to them, and words became even more powerful. Your message could be relayed over and over; sung on past your death to inspire people for years to come. I had been born with an ability to magnify that power. Spellsingers took music a step forward. But that didn't mean I couldn't use it in its purest form; as a tool to convey emotion.

  I began to run through songs in my head, anxiously searching for the perfect one to express my emotions to Torin. Then I realized that it didn't have to be perfect. Like every song I used, this one only needed to have a few words for me to latch onto—like basic spell components that a Witch combined to create spells. I only needed to find the right ingredients, and then I would cast the spell as I wished it to be.

  So, I began to sing.

  The notes of “Eternity” by Rachel Taylor rose gently around me as Kyanite responded to my call; a haunting softness that was perfect for the peaceful morning. I felt the others stir around us; listening but keeping a respectful distance. It was almost as if Torin and I were alone in the world. All we had to do was keep our eyes on the horizon, and the others disappeared.

  But my words were harsh. The spell seeped into Torin along with my sadness; the hurt that he had laid in my heart with every word and deed he'd done against me while we were apart. I sang of love, but it was a crushing love; one that bled and broke to survive. The pain lifted from my soul with the sweet melody; rising up my throat in a cathartic release of misery bathed in adoration. I loved Torin tragically; in a way that left no room for healing. I had tried to move on and break my ties to him, but I couldn't. He was my weakness. I knew that now, and the knowledge made me resent him. I needed to let go of that resentment, and all of the pain Torin had caused me. I had to truly forgive him.

  Torin was trembling; his massive body shaking around me. His cheek was pressed against mine, and his eyes were closed, but tears seeped from them to mingle with mine. His hand snaked down and our fingers entwined. Torin clutched me to him, and as I sang, I felt his pain. I felt the guilt and horror over what he had done; the regret that it had taken him so long to get past his jealousy and see the truth. But I also felt the aching grief he'd felt when he had seen me with Declan, and the burning fury that had nearly taken his sanity. He had been in far more pain than I'd known.

  I wasn't the only one who needed to heal.

  I turned in Torin's arms and framed his face with my hands. Torin opened his startling sapphire eyes and tears glistened on his lashes like diamonds. I jerked in his embrace as our connection intensified, and our emotions rolled together. The nights we spent apart, the oceans we had cried for each other, the aching need, and the poisonous anger. We had torn one another to shreds and then cried over the pools of blood. And when we had come back to our love, we had simply pushed the past away and pretended that it had never happened. But that's not how you move on.

  My voice lifted, and with it went my love. I let go of my anger over Torin's actions, and then I accepted what he meant to me. He had always said that we were bound together; our hearts like birds in a golden cage. I had thought it beautiful and romantic once, but then our birds had turned on each other, and I had learned the truth; that a cage is a prison. We had to treasure our love above all else to make our cage into a home. There couldn't be pain between us or resentment. Instead of seeing my love for Torin as a weakness, I needed to believe that it was my greatest strength. No matter what happened to us; Torin and I would always love each other. There's safety in that.

  I let Torin feel the shift in me; let him see himself from my new perspective. I made him into my shelter.

  The song softened, and everything around us brightened with the dawning day and the lightening of our hearts. Torin started to smile—the tears drying on his cheeks—as he brushed the hair back from my face. With the last words of my song, the pain that had been slowly poisoning us leeched away. Torin lowered his lips to mine, and I met him halfway. I clutched him tightly as our love rose up to strengthen our bond, and our hearts rejoiced together. I hadn't even known that I was missing Torin until I truly had him back. I smiled into our kiss, and Torin lifted me off my feet. Around us, I could feel my other men; silently offering their support and approval. This new bond slid out to include them, and when I drew away from Torin, it was to turn into the arms of Declan, Banning, and Gage.

  Chapter Eleven

  “That was lovely, Ellie,” Odin said. “But can we get out of barghest territory before we start having romantic concerts?”

  “Sure thing, One-Eye,” I teased.

  My chest felt lighter. I held Torin's hand, and we smiled at each other like a couple of teenagers.

  “You two look happy,” Declan noted.

  “We had a few things we needed to work out,” I said.

  “Like how Torin did a bunch of shitty things to you and you just took him back?” Banning asked dryly. “And how we never get to talk about it?”

  “Yes; among other things,” I said as I squeezed Torin's hand so he wouldn't ruin the moment by fighting with Banning.

  I didn't need to worry; Torin was just as lighthearted as I was, and he only smirked at Banning.

  “Your Majesty?” Reyne approached us. “I sent scouts out this morning, and they've just reported back; the barghests did not give chase last night.”

  “They didn't chase us?” Torin asked in surprise.

  “Perhaps the kidnappers haven't contacted them yet,” Banning suggested.

  “Or maybe they have other uses for those children,” I muttered as my stomach turned. “We need to get to that temple, Reyne. It's our only lead, and perhaps the kidnappers are headed there as well.”

  “Maybe we'll run into Eileen along the way,” Cerberus said hopefully.

  “Oh; that's something I forgot to mention earlier,” I said. “If Eileen took those children, she's working with a Lesser Fey, because I saw the legs of whoever was carrying the pups. He had them in a metal cage on his back. He was big and must be very strong. The legs appeared male, but I suppose it could be a large female. Either way; it definitely wasn't Eileen.”

  “Interesting,” Declan said. “Though I never suspected her.”

  “You didn't?” I asked.

  “To abduct children while she's trying to elude us would be complete idiocy unless it was part of some greater plan,” Declan noted. “And for her to have planned this far ahead—beyond the possibility of her failure—seems a little farfetched to me.”

  “I agree,” Torin said. “Eileen is not our kidnapper.”

  “Please remember; there are other missing fairies,” Reyne added. “Those children are just the first to be obviously kidnapped.”

  “And we're back to why,” I said. “If those missing fairies were also abducted, we can assume it was by the same individual or group of individuals. So, why switch to children? They haven't contacted the barghests to use the children as leverage, and I'm not sure that they will. So, what is it?”

  “Slavery?” Gage asked.

  “Maybe,” Banning agree
d. “If the adults were giving them problems, that would be a valid reason to start taking children. Children can be taught to obey.”

  “There's no need for slavery here.” Reyne shook his head. “Primeval provides; all we have to do is collect her offerings.”

  “You live a simple life,” Torin noted. “But not everyone does.”

  “Everyone in Primeval does,” Reyne argued.

  “Perhaps that's changed,” Torin suggested.

  Reyne went quiet for a moment and then sighed. “We can ponder this as we walk. Let's get back to the ground; we have a lot of it to cover today.”

  We made our way back down, and things went smoothly until around midday when we stopped for lunch. As we ate, the Blooders went looking for animals to slake their thirst on. It wasn't the best meal for them, but a few sips from the neck of a fairy deer was better than nothing. They had been doing this routine ever since we'd arrived in Primeval, and none of us thought anything of it when they wandered off. However, an hour later, when we were getting ready to head out, we noticed that none of them had returned.

  Banning had been drinking from me lately, and not only had my blood given him the ability to withstand sunlight, but it had also lessened his need to drink. So, he hadn't been joining his soldiers when they went on their little hunting trips. Nor was he wearing the layers of clothing that they were. The Blooders were mostly able to avoid the few shafts of sunlight that made it through the canopy, but they had come prepared for any circumstance. That means that not only were they wearing long sleeves and pants, they also had on hooded coats, ski masks, gloves, and sunglasses. The glasses and ski masks were held in reserve until needed, but the other gear was constantly worn. It was a good thing they didn't have much body heat, or they'd be sweltering.

  When we went looking for them, all we found was a glove.

  “We'll find them,” I assured Banning.

  Banning slid an enraged stare at me. “Fourteen of my finest Blooders, and they didn't make a sound. Someone took them without alerting us. How is that possible?”

  “I don't know,” I whispered as I peered around the forest. “And we still don't know why they were taken.”

  “Obviously, they want us to stop our investigation,” Banning growled. “They think that taking my people will make us give up and leave Primeval.”

  “Then they have no idea who they're dealing with.” Rentar grasped Banning's shoulder in solidarity.

  “They sure as fuck don't,” Banning agreed with a narrowed gaze. “If they hurt any of my people, I will kill them slowly.”

  “Search again, El,” Torin said as he handed me the glove. “Try and find the Blooders this time.”

  So, I did. I sang “Wake Me” again, sending the song out to find the owner of the glove I held. But this time, the ward was already in place; I didn't even get a glimpse of Banning's Blooders. I let the music go, sighed, and shook my head.

  “I can't see past the ward,” I said softly.

  “Thanks for trying.” Banning gave me a quick kiss.

  “Elaria isn't the only one who can cast a spell. You have fifteen Witches here, and one happens to be an elder,” Odin stepped forward. “Give me the glove.”

  I handed Odin the glove, and he found a clear patch of ground to sit on. He laid the glove before him and then started pulling things out of his satchel. As he did, we gathered around him, watching avidly. Odin muttered to himself as he laid things out; a bowl, a knife, and a few jars of herbs.

  “He looks like he's making soup,” Cerberus noted.

  “Shut up,” I growled at Cer. “Don't act as if you haven't seen witchcraft before.”

  “I was just trying to make a joke,” Cerberus huffed.

  “Alain,” Odin called to one of the Witches. “Did you bring any damiana with you?”

  “Yes, sir!” Alain rushed forward after he pulled a leather pouch out of his backpack.

  Alain handed the pouch to Odin. The Earthshaker smiled brightly as he took a pinch of the herb from the bag and sprinkled it onto the glove we'd found. Then Odin fished a lighter out of his bag, and lit some charcoal. Sparks ran over the black brick, reflecting on Odin's polished leather eye patch. He sprinkled more herbs onto the charcoal, and smoke drifted up in lazy swirls. Odin began to chant, his hands over the smoke, and then he snatched up the glove and tossed it into the bowl.

  Smoke erupted from the bowl, thickening and condensing into a column. Odin spoke one last word in a language that I didn't recognize, and the smoke formed an arrow. The arrow went horizontal and started to move. Odin put out the coal with some water from his canteen and tossed the incinerated items into the bushes. He packed his things and then looked at us impatiently.

  “Come on, people,” Odin huffed. “We've got an arrow to follow.”

  Chapter Twelve

  We ran after that arrow for two hours before it angled downward and lodged itself in the earth. We rushed over to the spot as the arrow dissipated. Behind the smokey remnants of the shaft, there was a thick growth of bushes. As we drew closer, the bushes began to twitch. Banning batted aside branches to reveal the body of a young man with light brown hair and pale skin. He cringed when light angled in toward him. The hooded coat and gloves he'd been wearing were gone.

  “Theo!” Banning cried.

  “Gheara?” Theo held a hand up to shield himself, even though he was in Banning's shadow. “Oh, thank all that's bloody.”

  “Where are the others, Theo?” Banning asked as he helped the man stand.

  “Here,” Samuel, one of my kyanite knights, handed Theo his cloak. “It has a hood.”

  “And I've got some gloves,” one of Torin's men offered.

  “Thank you,” Theo said sincerely as he covered up. “I don't know where the others are, Gheara. I had my face buried in an animal's neck when I was grabbed from behind. My attacker threw me over his shoulder and started to run. I couldn't break free of his grip; he was insanely strong. Then I was tossed on the ground beside the rest of our people. They started binding our wrists—”

  “They? Banning interrupted. “Who attacked you?”

  “It was several fairies,” Theo said. “Some were redcaps I think—real tall with big muscles. One of them was the guy who grabbed me. Then there was a woman. She wasn't a redcap.”

  “A woman?” I asked. “What did she look like?”

  “I didn't get a great look at her,” he said apologetically. “When I saw the others being bound, I knew that I had one last chance to escape. So, I kicked my redcap guard in the balls and ran.”

  “You kicked a redcap in the balls?” Declan chuckled. “Good for you.”

  “So, you didn't see her face?” I asked Theo.

  “All I saw was her hair,” Theo said grimly. “It was red. Not like his”—he gestured to Declan—“more auburn.”

  “That fucking bitch!” Banning snarled. “She is involved.”

  “Auburn is not exactly a common color among Shining Ones,” Torin noted. “But neither is it uncommon. Just because this woman had red hair, it doesn't mean it was Eileen.”

  We all just stared at him.

  “It's likely,” Torin admitted, “but not absolute.”

  “I ran as fast as I could, but I wasn't paying attention,” Theo went on. “I couldn't find my way back, and then the sun got to be too much, so I hid in the bushes.”

  “They took your coats?” Rentar asked.

  “And our gloves.” Theo nodded.

  “They knew he was a Blooder,” Banning said. “They knew their weaknesses.”

  “Well, he was drinking blood at the time,” Declan noted blandly.

  “Yeah; okay,” Banning huffed.

  “That must have been his glove we found,” Odin mused. “What are the odds that we happen to find the glove of the one man who got away?”

  “One out of fourteen,” I said immediately.

  “It was more of a hypothetical question.” Odin rolled his eye. “But you get the point. It was convenient t
hat we found Theo's glove, and then he happened to be the one Blooder who was able to escape his captors.”

  “After he got a look at them,” Reyne added.

  “But not too good a look,” I added.

  “This has a strange feel to it,” Odin said.

  “And it's exactly what we've been dealing with for months now.” Reyne grimaced. “Strange and horrible events.”

  “Okay; from here forward, we stick together,” I said. “No one leaves the group, not even in smaller groups. We keep our security tight, and we continue to that temple. We must be doing something right, or they wouldn't be trying to stop us.”

  “That's an excellent point.” Declan chuckled.

  “And exactly what they'd expect us to do,” Gage muttered.

  “You have a better idea?” I turned to Gage.

  “What if we do the unexpected?” Gage suggested. “We have fifteen Griffins here. We're all strong enough to carry a passenger. Let's take fifteen people and fly to this temple. If the kidnappers are heading there, we'll cut them off, and if they aren't, we'll be able to verify whether the Trinity has anything to do with these abductions.”

  “And what about the rest of us?” Banning asked.

  “They keep going on foot,” Gage said. “With the canopy so high and thick, our enemies won't be able to spot us flying over them, and hopefully they won't realize that the group has shrunk.”

  “I like it.” I looked at the other leaders.

  “Alain, you're in charge while I'm gone,” Odin said.

  We all stared at Odin in surprise.