Page 101 of A Fractured Song

“No.” Zev shook his head, gripping his brother’s shoulder with one hand. “You saw how powerful she is. She would just have killed you, too.”

“Father was wrong to wish peace for us.” The feral anger in Azai’s voice cut through Zev’s numbness. “I don’t want peace. I want to burn it to the ground.”

“Burn what to the ground?” Zev asked dully.

“Everything the singers built that brought us to this point,” Azai said savagely.

“Then you’d be conspiring with Father’s murderer,” Zev told him. “That’s what she wants. She killed Father because he wouldn’t help her do it.”

Zev shifted his father’s body into a more natural position, laying his arms over his chest. In the process, his eyes landed on his father’s sword, lying on the hay-strewn floor beside his body. He would never know exactly what had passed between his father and Jade, but it was clear that the farmer hadn’t been able to defend himself against the singer’s attack.

Zev drew the sword slowly from the floor, raising it up to his eyes.

This became my sword the day my father died.

He could still hear his father’s voice. It was the last conversation they’d had before Zev left. He remembered what else his father had said as well.

You’re my son, Zev. And I trust you.

Zev swallowed, his eyes still on the sword as his other hand drew his own from where it hung uselessly at his side. He dropped it to the floor with a clatter, then slid his father’s sword into itsplace on his belt.

He turned to see Azai watching him with a face that looked more numb than angry now, but neither brother could find words. The next half an hour passed in a horrible, surreal blur. Zev couldn’t remember much of the scene that followed—he didn’t even realize until Marieke returned with his mother that he’d let her go out alone, without even considering whether she was right in her guess that Jade was out of reach. He’d barely been aware of his surroundings…he certainly hadn’t considered what a terrible burden it was to expect Marieke to deliver the news she carried.

It was hours later, when his father’s body had been moved, a few relatives had gathered, and Marieke was safely in her room, that Zev found himself alone with his brother again. The terrible awareness of their loss was tangible between them, as though the image of their father’s lifeless body was held up before their eyes. But the grief hadn’t fully enveloped Zev yet. It was waiting, ready to pounce, but he’d found as he replayed the scene in the barn that his thoughts were surprisingly clear.

“You said that Father was wrong to wish for peace,” Zev said, finding his voice for the first time in an hour.

Azai looked up at him, his arms straining from the tension with which he gripped the porch railing. “I didn’t mean—”

“I agree with you,” Zev cut him off. “Father was wrong about this one thing. He wasn’t wrong to want peace, but he was wrong to live like it’s all that matters. We’ve let inaction take away too much of our power. But no more. We’re going to fight.”

He saw the determination flare to life in his brother’s eyes. “Yes.” It was Azai’s turn to grip Zev’s shoulder. “We’re going to do whatever it takes to bring that woman down.”

“She won’t be allowed to survive what’s coming,” Zev promised him. “But it’s more than that. She wants to plungethese lands into war, and Father was right to resist that. We won’t let her win. We’ll fight.”

“For our ancestors.” Azai curled his hand into a fist, pounding it once against his heart.

“No.” Zev shook his head. “Not for the past. For the future.” He met his brother’s eyes. “For our kingdom.”

He could feel the certainty in his own voice, the sense of control which bore no obvious relation to his current situation. And he could see realization flicker into existence behind his brother’s eyes.

“Your kingdom,” Azai said. “You’re the patriarch now. The stolen throne belongs to you. What will you do with it?”

“I don’t know,” Zev said. “But I won’t keep doing nothing. I can’t.” He gripped the hilt of his father’s sword—his sword—so tightly that his knuckles whitened. “Marieke said something to me once, when the elves had us caught in the canyon. She said live today to fight tomorrow.”

“I’m familiar with the expression.”

“We all are,” said Zev. “We live by it. We’ve been living by it for generations, and for what? We tell ourselves that we live today to fight tomorrow, but when tomorrow comes, we’re still not willing to fight. I knew it when Marieke used the expression, but I wasn’t ready to admit it yet. Now I am.”

Azai was silent for a moment.

“And what about Marieke?” he said at last.

Zev met his brother’s eye, his expression unyielding. “I won’t give her up. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe. And if I survive that, I’ll do whatever it takes to be with her, because I love her.” His eyes dared Azai to challenge him. “You’re wrong about her, Azai. I’m better when I’m with her—stronger. And she’s better when she’s with me. We belong together.”

He didn’t wait for his brother to respond. Leaving Azai to histhoughts, Zev strode into the house. Jade was out there somewhere, intent on taking everything from him, and he didn’t intend to let Marieke out of his sight. Ever again, if he could help it.

Zev closed his eyes, breathing in the cool dawn air and willing the peace of his orchard to settle around him.

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