Page 13 of A Fractured Song

Instructor Oriana’s voice petered out, leading to a relaxing of the posture of everyone around her. The instructor must have noticed it but, bless her, she never seemed to let it trouble her. There was something to be said for knowing your limitations and not wasting time bemoaning them, Marieke supposed.

“What are your conclusions?” Solomon asked as soon as hervoice was silent. There was a frown on his face. “I didn’t follow all of what you did, but it seemed as though your assessment was targeting that way.” He pointed.

“Yes,” said Instructor Oriana slowly. “The magic had a strange story to tell about the land over there.”

“But that’s not where the fire originated,” piped up Mr Mosley. “It was more that way.” He pointed as well, his arm several degrees off the direction of Solomon’s.

“But you said you could find no sign there of what the cause might have been?” clarified Instructor Oriana.

“That’s right.”

“Should we examine the area you were assessing?” Solomon pressed.

She shook her head. “No. The story is clear. Whatever was there at the time of the fire isn’t there now. We should return to the hall.” Her eyes flicked to Marieke. “Or somewhere we can talk more comfortably.”

Not until the older woman was looking right at her did Marieke notice how weary she looked. She’d forgotten for a moment that drawing tales from the land—always a discipline that required a high level of both skill and energy—was more demanding the further back in time you were reaching. It had been the better part of a week since the fire. Instructor Oriana must be exhausted.

“Of course,” said Marieke quickly, picking up the silent message the singer was sending. “I’ve been staying with some friends of my parents’, and I’m sure they’d be happy for us to retreat there for a rest.” To rest, and to talk more openly about what they’d all sensed in their various investigations.

Instructor Oriana was quick to accept the offer. Soon she, Solomon, and a handful of others from the group had followed Marieke back to her lodgings and settled in the parlor for as private a conversation as they could hope for.

The older woman—who was clearly leading the investigating team—let out a sigh of relief the moment her round form relaxed into a chair. Her eyes drifted closed for only a couple of seconds before they flew open again, settling straight on Marieke.

“Let’s not beat about the bush,” she said. “It caught my attention earlier when you asked if the other fires had been caused by magic. And after examining that field, I’m even more interested. Why did you ask that?”

“Because I’m almost certain that this onewascaused by magic,” Marieke said. Without embellishment, she gave her account of the fire, finishing by explaining her intention to make her way to the capital to report it to the council.

“So you coming out here has saved me a trip,” she said.

“I doubt that,” Instructor Oriana said thoughtfully. “I suspect the council will be very interested in what you witnessed, and will want to hear it firsthand. You’d better return with us, I think.”

Marieke suppressed a sigh. She’d been afraid they’d say that. But perhaps it was for the best. Perhaps returning to the capital would offer her an opportunity to pursue her own inquiries about whatever was happening to Oleand. It wasn’t as though she was likely to make progress hiding out at her parents’ home. No one in her little town knew anything about curses or hidden history or mysterious heartsong magic.

“What did you sense out there?” she asked boldly.

The instructor’s kind face lowered in a frown. “Nothing as concrete as I’d like. But it was odd. The land’s memory of the incident didn’t make a great deal of sense. It was like it was telling me that the fire started in one direction, but came from another.”

“Could a singer start a fire from a distance?” Marieke asked.

“Absolutely,” chimed in one of the other members of thegroup. “Not from miles away or anything, but they wouldn’t need to be right on top of it.”

“All right, I need longer to recuperate, but the rest of you have no excuse for sitting around,” said Instructor Oriana, her habitual friendly demeanor robbing the words of any imperiousness she might have been hoping for. “You all know what to do, get on out there and investigate. I want to be as efficient as possible in gathering whatever information there is to be had. Ideally, I’d like to be heading back toward the capital by the end of tomorrow.”

There was a flurry of movement as the others obeyed. Marieke stood as well and followed them from the building, pleased when Solomon read her cue and paused in the doorway.

“Everything all right with you, Mari?” he asked. His delicate tone told her that he hadn’t missed the tension the council had shown toward her.

She nodded. “I’m fine. Solomon, have there really been other fires as bad as this one?”

“Worse,” he said. “And not just fires. There have been some unseasonal storms, and even a few tremors in areas that have never had them before. That’s why they’re drawing on singers from the academy to join the response teams. The council’s own teams are stretched thin.”

Marieke frowned. “And these mishaps are targeting singers like Gorgon’s attacks?”

“No, not that anyone can tell.” Solomon swept an arm toward the Mosleys’ decimated field. “I mean, no singers live in this community, do they?”

“Good point.” Marieke bit her lip, worried.

Solomon glanced around, then lowered his voice. “Officially no one is pointing out any connection between thevarious events.”

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