Singer's Sword

by Cassandra Boyson

  Her own shelter was much like the one she’d kept during the year of construction. It possessed a tiny desk to one end with a small mattress on the other. Upon it, lay a pile of furs. She smiled. These people may have lost much, but not their love of hunting.

  “Many other tribes have begun to rebuild,” Blythe explained. “We have been focusing our efforts there before seeing to our own edifices. You may regret not agreeing to stay with another clan.”

  Hazel shook her head. “We wouldn’t think of it.”

  That evening, they gathered around bonfires and were fed much as in Hazel’s prior visit. Armond and Dorian didn’t care for most of what was offered but Hazel relished every bite. Again, she noted a new kind of jubilation among the people. The tragedy had drawn them closer. She hoped the countrymen of northern Kierelia felt similarly, but she doubted it. It seemed hard circumstances only made these southerners more determined to resilience and selflessness. Though she had meant to urge Armond to send more builders to aid them, she decided against it now. She would not rob them of their hardship if it produced such priceless camaraderie.

  Toward the end of the meal, an elder stood upon the center tree stump to declare, “Now, we will hear song from the Lady Hazel.”

  Hazel’s stomach dropped. She glanced at Blythe. To her surprise, he appeared to share her apprehension. This was further proof he’d guessed her secret. She looked to him to rescue her when a pair of children took her by the arms and brought her to the center.

  Standing before the awaiting crowd, she swallowed. How could she do this now that her gift had re-awoken? She could not bear another scene. Her mind raced for what to do as the crowd cheered for her to begin. Her eyes met Blythe’s. He gestured to his heart and shook his head. Do not sing from the heart. This was his instruction. It made sense. If she could control her emotions, she could better restrain the power inside her.

  She recalled an old tune that had always bored her. Her palms were damp. It had always been difficult to perform, but knowing what might happen made it almost unbearable. Even so, she worked to shrug off her nerves. She must remain as emotionless as possible.

  Hazel opened her mouth and… nothing came out. She choked, swallowed, smiled embarrassedly at her audience and began again. This time a few notes were choked out before she found she simply could not go on. She tried twice more before finally gesturing to her throat, shaking her head and rushing to her seat.

  “What has happened to me?” she asked of Blythe as he walked her to her tent that evening.

  “I have.”

  She turned to him in bewilderment.

  “I hummed in my seat and was able to send enough of my gift to choke out your vocal cords.”

  Her cheeks burned. “But… why would you do that?”

  “I told you once to keep your gift hidden. I meant it.”

  “Well, what was I supposed to do when a whole village demanded I sing?”

  “Just as you did. I simply did what I could to aid you.”

  She considered this, supposing it was better to be accused of stage fright than possessing the gift. “Thank you.”

  “Do you wish for aid?”

  “With my gift? Yes, I suppose. But we are not meant to be here long. Our dear priest cannot be expected to hold things together on his own for more than a night or two.”

  “But this is important. Do you not agree? Unless you plan never to sing again.”

  She sighed. Prudent as that may be, she did not believe she was capable. “We will make time.”

  * * *

  It was Blythe himself who led Armond, Hazel and Dorian through the forest. And it was to Hazel’s dismay that he said, “Follow this path and you will come upon the sorceress’ dwelling.”

  “You’re not coming with us?” she asked. She hadn’t realized how frightened she was of the task at hand until that moment.

  “I have a past with the sorceress. It would be unwise for me to go with you.”

  She eyed him dubiously.

  “I was… in love with her as a younger man, before I realized just what she was. She has since made attempts to ensorcell me into returning to her.”

  Hazel’s brows shot up. She could not argue with that, but it did nothing to dissuade her trepidation.

  “I will await your return just here,” he said, “so be certain you return by the same path. If you have not come by noontime, I may send a rescue party for you, so be swift about your business.”

  Hazel clenched her fists as they stepped onto the path. She had never experienced fear as she did now—except when facing the giant dragon. She couldn’t begin to fathom just why this endeavor got under her skin. Perhaps it was because two kings had been so easily fooled by her. Even Blythe had. How could she expect to remain more clear-headed than they? She supposed it helped that she would not be captivated by the sorceress’ enchanted beauty as they had been.

  Dorian came to walk beside her. “You are frightened?”

  She shrugged. “The woman is capable of things we may not yet have dreamed of.”

  “Yet, you are on speaking terms with the God of all things. We should be fine.”

  She questioned this, uncertain it could be considered ‘speaking terms,’ though they had spoken. Then her mind was transported to that majestic throne room, his very presence set before her in fathomless brilliance. She breathed more easily. She did know the Great Entity. It was his protection they required and she swiftly sent up a petition for it.

  Two giant, winged men appeared on either side of the path. She yelped before realizing that neither Armond nor Dorian took notice of them. Furthermore, the giants reminded her of the angelic beings in the Entity’s realm.

  “Dorian,” she said. “Look to your left and right.”

  He did so, then eyed her.

  “That’s what I thought,” she said.

  “What is it?”

  “We have company.”

  He looked about with a suspicious eye and nearly withdrew his sword when she shook her head. “They are of the Eternal Realm… the land often referred to as Paradise.”

  He continued to scan the vicinity but only shrugged. She could not imagine why she was able to see them while her friends could not. Perhaps because she had set foot in their realm? Well, she was simply grateful the Entity had not only heard her mental plea but had answered it.

  Next thing she knew, the forest began to spin. Woozily, she fell to the ground, unable to stand until it ceased. But in exchange for the trees that had surrounded them moments before, they were met by a vividly bright scene of a decadently colorful forest with ethereal sunrays.

  “More of the Entity’s work?” Dorian asked.

  She eyed the new scene with skepticism. It made her queasy. “I think not.”

  Armond, who’d been walking a little way behind the two, caught up to them. “This is awfully enchanting, isn’t it?”

  “Indeed,” Hazel said dubiously. “That is just about the word I would use.”

  She couldn’t understand it, but something about the endeavor sent her right back into childhood again, desiring to hide in corners and avoid run-ins with Lady Nora, attempting to escape evening meals so she wouldn’t have to face Dianna… even trying not to gain Armond’s attention in case she should do something embarrassing. This mission—the very thought of facing the sorceress—intimidated her. What had ever moved her to become the kingdom’s go-to girl for handling dragons and sorcerers? She’d gone from being the girl with not a care in the world but Lady Nora to practically balancing a whole kingdom on her shoulders. And now she had to walk through this ensorcelled wood with the goal of seeking a malevolent witch. If, years ago, anyone had told her that she’d find herself here, she’d have hidden away in her tower and never faced the world again.

  An arm went around her shoulders. “Little sister, you are shaking,” Dorian said with far more concern than ever he’d displayed before. “Surely, we will come upon no harm in a place such as this.”


  “I’ll be fine, Dorian,” she muttered with more confidence than she felt. “Do not forget that you are here to protect Armond.”

  He looked as if he might weep. “I care only ever to watch out for you. I’ve only one little sister after all.”

  She raised a brow at him. Certainly, she felt close enough to be like a sister, but he’d never spoken as if he actually considered her family.

  Suddenly, Armond was between them. “I will see she is safe. I am the love of her life after all.”

  Hazel nearly choked. “You are no such thing, you foolish man.”

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her close. “Hazel, you need me as much as I need you—admit it.”

  “I…” She was speechless. Suddenly, his eyes were glowing balls of magnificent light. Why had she ever considered spurning his proclaimed affection? “Armond, are you truly asking me to—”

  She screamed and fell from his embrace as one of the winged figures swiped his sword through the atmosphere. In the next moment, she was shaking her head, her mind clearer than moments before. Dorian and Armond appeared to be doing the same.

  “This forest is under an enchantment,” Dorian said solemnly.

  “Indeed,” Armond agreed. “The air is so thick it is difficult to think.”

  Hazel nodded. “But we are well-guarded. Trust to the Entity.”

  Dorian nodded but Armond eyed her leerily.

  They drew around the nearest bend where a resplendent mansion resided. Crawling with wine-hued roses, their fragrance wafted after them, drawing them forward. It was all Hazel could do to focus on the winged giants to keep her head above water. The scent was nearly intoxicating, causing her eyes to water from their compelling richness.

  “That is a witch’s house?” Dorian questioned.

  “Seems so,” Hazel said.

  Armond stood frozen in his tracks. It was a moment before she realized he was weeping.

  “Mate, it’s the enchantment again,” Dorian urged.

  Armond shook his head. “It could only be the dwelling of an angel.” He looked to Hazel. “We must be wrong. She could mean us no harm. We must not insult her by returning the gift she bestowed.”

  Hazel looked to the giants, who smiled before swinging the sword overtop his head.

  Armond blinked, then touched a hand to his cheek in bewilderment. He examined the tear, then looked to the others. With the clearing of his throat, he started forward. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Hazel’s nails bit into her sweaty palms. The presence of the giant angels offered some comfort, but seeing that the atmospheric spell had been able to ensorcell Armond again made her anxious. What if they should all allow themselves to be taken in? The kingdom would be lost.

  None of them moved when they came to the door. At last, Dorian shrugged, unsheathed his sword and knocked. Hazel stood behind him, feeling the coward she suddenly was. What was it about the place that stole away all the confidence she’d gained in the last year?

  A beautiful voice sang out and the door swung open. When no one was revealed and the singing ceased, Hazel was certain Maera had used the gift of the southern tribes… or had mimicked it. It made her feel completely powerless. If the woman could match what small gift she had, what chance did they stand? With a wave of anger, she shook her head and stomped her foot. She would not be daunted.

  22

  The house was dark within, nothing like the bright splendor without. Still, it was immaculately kept and smelled of the roses that crept inside the dwelling, somehow surviving without much sunlight. To be sure, they were conjured by the witch’s craft and likely held a magic all their own. Hazel noted not to touch them, let alone their thorns. Who could tell their capabilities?

  “H-hello,” Dorian called out when no one came to meet them.

  “This way,” the immaculate voice sang to them.

  The two men eagerly followed after that voice, leaving Hazel in nearly the coldest fear she’d endured in her life. Hatred for her floated on the very wings of the atmosphere. Every beam, stone and flower loathed her. But it longed for the two friends she’d foolishly brought with her. It was imperative Armond be present. It was his acceptance of the amulet that required his personal return and rejection. But why had they put Dorian in danger? Moreover, why did the house want them?

  She hurried after them, taking each by the arm to yank them from their current stupor. They shrugged her off and continued forward. Helplessly, she looked about for the giants but found they had not entered with them.

  She was on her own.

  They arrived at a room that possessed the greatest number of buds. Here, a woman dressed in white lounged before a bright window. She looked like the angel Armond had claimed her to be, but Hazel’s bones shook with rage and fear.

  The roses’ fragrance stung her eyes as they entered. Her lungs felt as if filled with smoke. Still, she forced herself to step up between the two lads. It was imperative that she was the one to face the sorceress.

  “You are Sorceress Maera?” she asked smoothly, surprising herself.

  “Hazel, is it? You’re smaller than I’d expected.”

  Hazel lifted a brow. She’d not realized the lady even knew of her existence, let alone cared to expect anything of her. “And you’re even more stunning than I expected… but then I suppose it is conjured.” She began to feel she was playing a game of Affrontery.

  “Your friends do not seem to mind,” the woman said with a smile.

  Hazel turned to find them dreamily gazing at Maera. She snorted. “They are under your enchantment. It has little to do with your looks.”

  Maera grinned. “You have not come for a beauty contest have you, little prophet?”

  “Prophet?” Hazel questioned dubiously. She was nothing like the prophet… was she?

  For a moment, Maera hesitated, realizing she’d spoken something she’d not meant to. Could it be their enemy knew her better than she knew herself? Could it be the dreams she’d had of late revealed more about her identity than she’d realized? She began to wonder if more had been unlocked during her encounter in the Entity’s realm than just her voice.

  But this was all meaningless. It was not what they’d come for. She turned to Armond, working to gain his gaze. “King Armond, return the amulet.”

  He hesitated before the sweep of a sword passed over his head. Hazel blinked. The angelic giants were still with them, though unseen except for in this action. Armond stole a breath of air as if he’d been unable to for some time. Then, he choked over the aroma of the room. Coughing still, he reached into his inner pocket and held the amulet toward the sorceress.

  “Take it back,” he said. “We want nothing from you.”

  “Why, Armond,” Maera said in a charming tenor. “Why should you reject my protection? We agreed something had to be done to make certain nothing like that dragon disaster ever took place again, else the kingdom might finally witness how truly afraid you are.”

  He glanced up at the woman in confusion, then looked back at the amulet, eyeing it in contemplation.

  “The castle possessed the amulet when the dragon arrived,” Hazel reminded. “It did no good whatever. It may even have summoned the trouble.”

  Armond blinked and held it out further for the witch. “Take your dark talisman,” he said as if it was difficult to speak. It revealed the extent of his inner strength that he was able to rebuff the spell. He kept looking to Hazel as if to keep himself rational.

  Maera drew to her feet and stood before him, taking his hand into her own. She closed his fingers around the token and held it there. “I gave this to you out of the sentiment of my heart. I want to see you safe.”

  His eyes grew large and sparkling and Hazel understood she had lost him again. She wondered what the giants were waiting for when she decided to take matters into her own hands. Reaching for his ensnared hand, she found herself thrust against the far wall by the sound of Maera’s song. Neither Dorian nor Armond rushed to aid her a
s she drew gasping and shaking to her feet.

  “Do you give me your word that you mean us no harm?” Armond asked with that same light in his eyes.

  Hazel blinked. He sounded rational. He was under no spell—not currently anyway. He was merely… bewitched by the woman’s beauty.

  Maera smiled warmly. “With all my heart.”

  Hazel could practically see Armond’s heart beating out of his chest. Desperately, she ran to him and flung herself onto her knees. “Armond, you claimed you love me. Was that true?”

  Gulping, he turned his attention to her, examining her face as if to remember who she was. Hazel’s heart raced. She’d declared it in an attempt to pull him from Maera’s grasp, but… would it work? Did he love her?

  As her eyes pleaded with him, her mind flashed through all the instances in her girlhood when she’d asked this question. Could Armond ever love her? Over and over, she’d told herself it could never be. And when she’d finally taken the chance, he’d rebuffed her as she’d always known he would. She felt herself that insignificant, insecure girl again as she knelt there on the floor, facing the man she knew she still loved, though she wished with all her soul she did not. She never wanted him to have that kind of power over her again.

  At last, something dawned in his eyes. “Yes,” he declared. He yanked his hand from Maera’s, leaving the amulet behind. “I do love Hazel.” He spoke it with fresh feeling, as if rediscovering the sensation himself.

  That was when Maera’s true colors emerged. Her teeth sharpened into fangs as she roared and flung the amulet at Hazel It smacked her squarely in the stomach, stealing the breath from her. The room grew fuzzy as she crumbled onto the floor.

  “You will regret this, young king!” Maera cried. “The Deep South has been seeking my aid in their schemes against you. I offered you my protection. Now, I promise my vengeance. It will not be long now. And your little love is no match for me.”

  23

  Hazel was only aware she’d passed out when she awoke to the sound of her own singing. It was quiet, scarcely audible really, but she felt her lips moving. Upon opening her eyes, she found Armond strung up by rose vines while Dorian knelt before the witch, utterly entranced.