Page 15 of A Fractured Song

Zev relinquished his horse before striding toward the backof the stand of trees. It took only a minute to locate the parchment, which was speeding away toward a wheat field.

“What is that?” Ramsey demanded.

He sounded more intrigued than alarmed, his steps overtaking Zev’s. When he reached the item, it was hovering over the crops, low enough to touch. Before Zev could discourage him, he’d reached out and snatched it from the air.

“Zev, look at this!” he called. “It’s unbelievable!”

“I’m not sure you should be touching it,” Zev said. “It’s clearly magical.”

Ramsey just laughed. “Trust you to be overly cautious, Zev. At least any time magic is involved. Look at it! It’s recorded the size of this field. And look!” His voice grew in excitement as words continued to appear on the page apparently of their own accord. “It’s calculating the likely yield! That could be handy.”

Zev made a noise in the back of his throat. “I could tell you the likely yield without any magic involved.”

“So could I, but this might save time,” Ramsey said reasonably. His eyes were bright as he looked up at Zev. “This is incredible, isn’t it? I’ve never seen anything like it.” He scanned the page again, his head slowly shaking as he recognized details of their familiar region. His brow suddenly puckered, however. “Hold on, I thought you said it had been to your farm.”

“That’s right,” said Zev cautiously.

“But there’s nothing on here about your land,” Ramsey said.

Zev cleared his throat. “It floated past on its way down the main track, but it didn’t actually come onto our property.”

“That’s odd, isn’t it?” Ramsey asked.

“Is it?” It wasn’t hard for Zev to keep his expression neutral. He’d been keeping secrets all his life. Knowing that less was more in such situations, he didn’t elaborate on his answer.

“Hm, looks like you’re right,” Ramsey said. “I shouldn’t be touching this.” In spite of his words, he didn’t sound troubled. Zev followed his pointing finger to see a message written across the bottom of the parchment in bold letters.

Official survey of the Council of Singers. Please do not interfere with this item.

The warning was accompanied by an image of a budding tree in bronze and blue ink. It was the symbol of the Aeltan Council of Singers.

“So this really is a magical item,” Ramsey mused. He frowned as he ran his thumb over the council symbol. “But I thought the knowledge of how to make talismans had been lost generations ago.”

“So I understand,” Zev said. “I don’t think this is a talisman—I don’t think magic is stored in it. It’s probably a normal object being moved about by magic.”

“You’re probably right.” Ramsey rubbed the back of his neck. “What do you think it means by an official survey?”

“They’re obviously taking stock of the land,” Zev said. “For what purpose, I don’t know.” He felt his brow furrow. “I’d like to find out, though.” He jerked his head toward the parchment Ramsey still held. “Let go of it and let’s see where it’s headed.”

After one last look, Ramsey complied. They watched as the parchment fluttered over the wheat field before circling back toward the farmhouse.

“Come on.” Zev was already on his way back to the yard, ready to reclaim his mare. “You coming?”

“Of course.”

There was a spring in Ramsey’s step as he came alongside, obviously glad of any excuse to postpone his usual chores. He certainly didn’t seem to share Zev’s concern as to the intention of whoever had sent out this survey.

They were saddled up in no time, and able to follow the parchment as it completed its final circuit of the property and soared back over the boundary. To Zev’s relief, it followed the road for some time, providing an easy route for their horses. When it did eventually turn and head across the grassy hills, they urged their mounts after it.

“This is the most exciting thing that’s happened since our Oleand trip,” said Ramsey with his signature grin.

Zev cast a pointed look around the quiet hills, bathed in sunlight. A light breeze was rippling the grass, and in the distance a flock of birds could be heard cawing as they took off from a stand of pines. Closer at hand, the slow flight of a passing honeybee was the only movement—barring the parchment.

“Would you call this exciting?”

“I would,” Ramsey said staunchly. “It’s like a chase. Especially now that our quarry seems to be in a rush.”

Sure enough, the parchment had stopped wafting back and forth. It was moving forward steadily, a constant and targeted breeze urging it onward in a southwesterly direction. Zev had a feeling it was heading back to some kind of base, and he wanted to be on its metaphorical heels when it arrived.

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