Primeval Prelude: Book 4 in the Spellsinger Series

by Amy Sumida

  “I love you, little bird,” the deep rumble of his voice vibrated across my breasts, “I love you more than all of Tír na nÓg. I'm sorry I forgot that for awhile.”

  “You didn't forget,” I whispered. “You remembered too sharply, and the razor-edge of your memory cut us both.”

  “No more cuts,” Torin vowed as he slid into me. “Only connection.”

  “Only love without the blood,” I agreed.

  “Well”—he smiled—“at least with me.”

  “Did you just make a joke about Banning while you were inside me?” I widened my eyes at him.

  “He's here with us anyway,” Torin said with simple seriousness. “They all are. And that's a good thing, Elaria. You can't be jealous of something when you're a part of everything.”

  Torin started to thrust into me faster as he covered me in kisses. I closed my eyes and felt them; my other lovers. Torin was right; they were with us. They didn't have to watch or listen to be a part of our love; they simply were. I could feel their hearts beating with ours—in perfect harmony—and knew that this was the only way our song could survive.

  And—just as Torin had said—that was a good thing.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The next morning, we had breakfast in our suite. It was much more enjoyable than dinner had been. We spoke more on the Trinity and Eileen, but in the end, we decided the same thing we had the night before; to wait. After we finished our meal, we were met in the main hall by the Trinity and a group of their guards.

  “You tracked the ex-Queen of Copper to Primeval,” Ceanag said. “Can you track her again?”

  “It shouldn't be a problem.” I nodded. “I would have done so earlier if I hadn't been intent on getting here.”

  “Good,” she said crisply. “Then let's proceed. Your Blooders and our missing fairies are relying on us to save them.”

  She was right, of course. We couldn't sit around waiting for the rest of our team to join us before we tried to rescue the missing people. Also, we had agreed to pretend to trust the Trinity, so there was no reason to refuse to help. I looked at the rest of my group, and they nodded.

  The other Strengths joined us, and we all headed out of the temple and then to the edge of the forest. The bleeding trees creaked mournfully, and my breath caught in my throat. After feeling their pain—literally traveling through them—it was hard to be unaffected by the sight and sounds of their suffering.

  “Is there nothing we can do for them, Odin?” I asked the Witch elder as I blinked back my tears.

  “We?” Odin asked. “No; I know of no spell to help them. But perhaps you can”—he cast his gaze meaningfully at my lovers; reminding me that I had more power available to me than we let on—“Spellsinger.”

  “Son of a bitch,” I swore.

  “El, come on,” Cerberus huffed. “You know I hate that word.”

  “Dude, you use that word,” Banning pointed out.

  “I hate it when other people use it,” Cer said. “It's like when you can beat up your brother but no one else can.”

  “You have a brother?” Banning asked. Then added, “And you beat him up?”

  “Why didn't I think of that sooner?” I ignored Cer and Banning.

  “We had other things on our minds,” Torin said gently. “Do you truly think you could save them?”

  “Possibly.” I widened my stare at him. “With a little support and encouragement.”

  “We're with you, Elaria,” Declan said steadily. He cast his gaze at the fascinated Trinity and added, “We'll be right here to guard your back. Won't we, gentlemen?”

  Gage and Banning joined Torin and Declan. They circled me; facing outward as if they were protecting me when in actuality, they were adding their strength to mine.

  “What are you doing?” Eimhir asked.

  “I'm going to try to save the trees,” I said. “We can look for Eileen afterward.”

  “You can do that?” Eimhir's face shifted into hope.

  “I'm going to try,” I repeated. “I've never healed before, and I'm not sure how much power I'll need to heal so many.”

  “Queen Elaria”—Eimhir came to the edge of my man-circle and reached between Banning and Torin to take my hand—“take strength from me.”

  I felt a warm surge of energy flow from her hand and into mine. My mental focus became clearer, and I knew immediately what song I needed to sing to help Primeval heal. I gaped at Eimhir; perhaps I'd misjudged the Trinity.

  “Thank you, Eimhir; that truly helped,” I said sincerely.

  “You're most welcome, Spellsinger,” she said with a smile. “If you can save our dying brothers, you will have my gratitude in return.”

  “And mine,” Ceanag held her hand out to me. “I would also like to share strength with you, Queen Elaria.”

  I took Ceanag's hand, and another energy rush zinged up my fingers. This one felt lighter, more ethereal. The weight upon my heart lifted, and I knew that I could succeed because the forest needed me. This was my purpose; right here and right now. This was my current destiny.

  “And I offer you my strength as well, Your Majesty.” Caorall held out his thick hand to me, and I took it eagerly.

  Raw power raced up my arm and invigorated my body. I took a deep breath and felt completely renewed. My muscles flexed with anticipation, and my body centered itself without thought. I took a deep breath—my lungs expanding with the crisp air—and felt as if I could sing for hours.

  “Thank you,” I said to the Trinity. “If I succeed, it will be partly due to your help.”

  “We failed in our watch,” Eimhir whispered. “It's not something that we like to admit, but it is the truth. If we can help you right this wrong, it would ease our souls as well as save our beloved forest.”

  “We'll still have to find whoever is causing this and put an end to it before the threat is completely vanished,” I reminded them.

  “Still; this will be a great start,” Eimhir bowed and backed away with the other strengths. “Take your time, Spellsinger. We will gladly wait on your magic.”

  I started to sing; a softly-building, mournful cry that climbed higher and higher until I was shouting the words to all of Primeval. The hauntingly powerful music for “Bring Me To Life” by Evanescence rose around me, and the gathering around us went still. Kyanite called the music forth from my heart and manifested it around us while I pushed my magic up with it; slamming my power into the words.

  In my mind, I saw the golden heart of Primeval below me, and then I focused on those curled, broken veins; blackened with poison and shrinking back from life. I sent my magic into those arthritic lines; blasting the evil I found within them with my will and the strength donated to my fight. The darkness started to ebb, and I followed it upward. The trunks of the trees were harder to heal—many were on the verge of liquefying completely—but there was still magic in their tough bark. The trees of Primeval had stood for thousands of years, and that kind of tenacity didn't just lay down and die; it clung to every last hope of survival. And I was their final hope. My voice lifted as I found their dwindling reserves of strength and gave them the power to compound it.

  These were not simple plants; these were sentient beings who had soaked the very magic of Tír na nÓg up through their roots. I felt their despair and pain, and then—with my touch—their hope and gratitude. They grabbed on tightly to my magic; taking the healing I freely offered.

  Then the trees showed me their world; far more than Amber was able to show me the night before. Primeval was a web of roots and branches, and the web was alive. It didn't stop at the edge of the forest either but extended through the soil and into the Jewel Kingdoms. This was how Reyne and his people had known about the Sapphire War and my part in it. The trees communicated with each other and with anyone patient enough to listen to them. Their knowledge was simple but profound and far-seeing. As I sang to them about emerging from the darkness to live again, they sang to me about what that life was. They showed me
how age after age had its traumas and battles, but how similar they were when viewed from a lofty perspective. Everything ran in cycles; seasons, wars, love, and even death. Primeval had never feared death; not a natural death. But this evil that infected their roots and spread up to their branches was far from natural.

  And Primeval was scared.

  I gave the trees what comfort I could as I let the music carry my sympathy and solace to them. But the trees were so decayed, so stricken with this evil, that I began to tire, even with the extra energy the Trinity had given me. The infection was wicked; the kind of taint that coated your soul forever. It was far more than I had expected to deal with, and the confidence I had started with began to wane. The hands I held out to the forest trembled, and I laid my forearms on Torin and Declan's shoulders out of exhaustion. I thought I was going to collapse under the weight of the poison, but then the power of my consorts filled me, and I was able to forge on. Kyanite added his strength to theirs, and together, we brought the trees back to life.

  As the evil sizzled away, and fresh cells burst into life within the trees, my voice thrummed with power, echoing around the clearing. My words became a challenge to the forest; Fight with me! Heal yourself! Wake out of your dismal slumber! I felt life stirring beneath me; the heart of Primeval pumping faster as its sap/blood bubbled with joy and determination. Fresh streams burst out toward the healing trees and connected with their broken veins. The power of Primeval rushed into the purified trees and helped to revive them further as it drew the remnants of the poison into itself through the reconnected veins. In the massive heart of sap, the small doses of evil could be dealt with and was soon destroyed by the magic of Primeval. Physical proof of the healing began to show on the trees around us; bark pulled back together, leaves burst into life, and roots snaked into the fresh soil. The fairies around us started to weep and shout in joy, all at once.

  Primeval was whole again.

  Chapter Eighteen

  With the final chords of the song, I fell back into the arms of my lovers. I wasn't depleted; I was simply overcome. The world Primeval had shared with me had given me a priceless perspective. It had reminded me of how small I was, despite the magic inside me. That may sound like a bad thing, but being small when you know that you are part of a grand whole, is glorious. It gave all the little hurts less power over me, and allowed me to see the vast future that I could be a part of... or not. I may be a tiny piece of the puzzle, but I had absolute power over how I fit into the picture. It was a comforting thought, as was the truth that the puzzle would continue to grow with or without me.

  And what I had done today—what we had done—had helped the future grow. This was the message I took from the trees; the wisdom they shared with me. That what made our little lives significant was not how large we were able to grow, but how much we helped our world grow. Then, no matter when or how we died, we would live on forever. The trees had sacrificed themselves willingly, knowing that they would live on in the sap—in the blood of their world. What a profound knowledge that was.

  We are all connected to our world and each other; it's just not as obvious for people as it is for trees.

  “Thank you,” Eimhir said sincerely as she hugged me. “We cannot begin to express our gratitude.”

  “Thank you for those power boosts.” I smiled at the Trinity. “I couldn't have done it without them.”

  “It was the least we could do,” Ceanag said in a much softer tone than the one she'd used with me previously. “You have saved our world again, Spellsinger. We owe you a great debt.”

  The Trinity went still and exchanged somber and unsettled glances.

  “This is my world now too,” I said gently. “You owe me nothing.”

  Eimhir closed her eyes, and when she opened them, she was smiling. She nodded as she said, “Then we will accept your help graciously, and be humble enough to ask for more of it. Do you feel up to one more song, Queen Elaria?”

  “I think I can manage a little searching song,” I agreed. “It shouldn't be as draining as healing the trees.”

  “Excellent,” Eimhir said. “Then please proceed. We must still find Eileen.”

  “Be prepared to follow quickly,” I warned them. “The last time I did this, I was on horseback.”

  “How about a griffin's back this time?” Gage offered.

  “That would be appreciated,” I accepted with a grin.

  Gage stripped and tossed me his clothes with a smirk; he knew he was being ogled. I shook my head as I folded the clothes and tucked them into his pack. I might have spared a few glances for his amazing abs and ass too. They were hard to ignore in the blazing light of day. But Gage shifted quickly, and soon I was straddling a lion's back; clinging to him by handfuls of his thick fur.

  “Go on, El,” Cerberus said. “We're ready.”

  And they were. The fairies and Witches were settling into stances; preparing to run. So, I began to sing. I decided to have some fun with it and use something upbeat. Oh, who am I kidding? I simply couldn't resist a song that was so perfect for this particular hunt. Kyanite supplied the magical music, and the happy horns cascaded up into a foot-tapping patter of drums. I began the drawling warbling of “Come On, Eileen” by Dexys Midnight Runners. So, it wasn't exactly a song about searching, but I didn't need it to be precise. I wanted to find an Eileen, and this was the perfect song to connect me with her.

  I heard Banning chuckle, along with some of the Witches, but most of our party was unfamiliar with the music. Their faces showed surprise at the name I sang, but that was all. I smiled to myself as a ball of white light formed in front of me. The ball went zipping into the forest, and Gage launched himself after it; his wings pulled in tight against his sides. His massive, griffin body barreled through every obstacle; forging a path for the others.

  It was a good thing too, because the orb seemed to be responding to the speed of the song, and it began to zip along even faster. Soon, Gage and I were ahead of the pack. I could still hear them behind us, but we had a significant lead. That lead grew steadily as the song stretched out until finally, I couldn't hear the others anymore.

  Then the orb exploded.

  I blinked in the dying light as Gage came to a sudden stop. We stood outside a thicket; its vines and intricate branches woven into a nearly impenetrable wall. I slid off of Gage's back and handed him his pack distractedly. As I investigated the thicket, he hurried into his clothing and then joined me.

  “I smell barghests and Blooders,” Gage whispered. “They're here, Elaria.”

  “Fuck,” I whispered. “Eileen really is behind this.”

  “And behind this.” He tapped the barricade. “Do you see a way in?”

  “There!” I pointed to a break in the wild wall.

  Gage followed me to the edge, and we peered around the barricade together. There was a clearing inside; dappled sunlight breaking through to it in streamers. There was enough light to make out a cage full of barghest children and a group of bound Blooders. Both Blooders and barghests were asleep—strange at that hour of the morning. But I was betting that they'd been drugged or enchanted. Because the other occupant of the clearing was wide awake and looming over her captives gloating.

  I could only see the fall of Eileen's auburn hair, but I knew it was her. It had to be; my magic had led us straight there. Still, I was a little surprised to have caught the redhead red-handed. I couldn't understand why she'd want to add kidnapping to her list of crimes. But whatever her reasoning was, she had now either been abandoned or had sent her cohorts packing. There were no other fairies there; no redcaps to subdue the Blooders or carry the cage of children. So, she'd need her captives to be incapacitated.

  “Eileen,” I said as I strode into the clearing, “you've really fucked up this time.”

  Eileen swung around to face me with rounded eyes; her hand going to her throat. She frowned; looking from the captives to Gage and then to me. Then she started shaking her head.

  “I d
on't know what this is, but I'm not a part of it,” she declared.

  I stopped and glanced at Gage. He shrugged.

  “Are you seriously trying to play ignorant?” I asked her. “You're standing in front of your captives. There's no one else here, Eileen. Who am I supposed to believe did this?”

  “Captives?” Eileen whispered. “Why would I take prisoners when I'm trying to hide from you?”

  “Yeah; I was wondering that myself,” I said as I eased between her and the cage of children. “The best I can figure is that you wanted something to bargain with. But that's not happening now. The only chance you have for leniency is if you tell us where your accomplices are.”

  “Accomplices?” She hissed. “Are you listening to me, you dumb bitch? I didn't do this.”

  “Sure,” I huffed.

  “I didn't capture anyone,” Eileen reiterated.

  “So, you just happened to walk into this clearing—around a strong barricade—to stand over these Blooders, right when I was tracking you?” I asked her.

  “I didn't walk here,” she growled. “The last thing I remember, I was curling up in a cave for the night. Then I woke up here.”

  “You found her!” Torin declared as he strode into the meadow. “Well done, little bird.” He came up with the others and kissed my cheek before sending a dark glare Eileen's way. “You're going to pay for what you've done, Eileen.”

  “Fuck you, Torin,” Eileen snapped. “My husband was murdered, but where were you then? Oh, that's right, you were fucking his murderer.”

  Banning rushed past us to his Blooders and started shaking them. “They're not waking up,” he said to us over his shoulder.

  “They're enchanted,” Eimhir said as she looked them over. “A minor spell; I'll remove it.”

  “Thank you,” Banning said with relief.