Page 17 of A Fractured Song

Zev ignored this propaganda, returning to an earlier comment that had troubled him. “Why were you instructed to start in this region?”

“No idea.” The singer spoke with a tone of finality, clearly ready to end the conversation. “That’s not my decision. But it was a very clear directive. We were to start a dozen leagues northeast of the capital, just south of Sundering Canyon.”

“Well, it is Aeltas’s most fertile region,” Ramsey said, sounding smug.

The council worker just shrugged, both of them oblivious to the alarm racing over Zev. The man’s description of the regionprecisely matched what he’d been obliged to tell the council member he’d met in the capital, when he was there with Marieke. The council member had been very interested when he’d heard where Zev was from. He’d called the region one of the country’s crowning jewels. It had made Zev uneasy at the time to have his home recognized and singled out, but he’d told himself he was being overly cautious. Now all his misgivings came rushing back. Could this all be happening because of him?

“So our hard work and success is being punished by the council sending magic into our homes to spy on us without permission?” he challenged, his disgruntlement rising with his guilt.

“It’s hardly a punishment,” the man said, also irked. “And no one is being spied on. The surveyor merely gathers basic information about the land.”

“Land that belongs to us,” Zev said. “At least when the census happened, a real human knocked on our door, and didn’t try to hide what they were doing.”

The man eyed him with disfavor. “And a great deal of manpower it required. You should be glad that resources are being conserved thanks to the recent developments in communication songcraft—the enchantments on the survey parchment are newly designed. Now we don’t have to send hundreds of singers all over the country to knock on doors.”

“That’s handy,” said Ramsey, obviously feeling none of Zev’s offense. “Much easier.”

Contrarily, the singer didn’t seem any more pleased with the praise than he had been with the criticism. “I wouldn’t say easy,” he sniffed. “It took a great volume of magic, and considerable finesse. The technique was only developed because there’s been so much focus on the area of long-distance communication since the bridge was closed.”

“How fortuitous,” said Zev dryly.

“Yes, isn’t it!” Ramsey had apparently missed his tone. “Does that mean parchments like that can be used to communicate with people in Oleand? Like a postal service that crosses the canyon using magic?”

“That’s the eventual plan,” said the stranger. “A formalized system is being developed. It will be much more efficient than going around by sea.”

Not to mention your council won’t want more people than necessary to explore Port Taran.Zev didn’t speak the thought aloud. It would make no sense to either of his companions. Even the council representative probably didn’t know the secrets hidden in the port city from which the long-dead royals had once attempted to flee the continent. But an astute person could find them. Especially an astute singer like Marieke. Given how determinedly the council taught an entirely different version of history, Zev could understand why it had been a priority to them to find a means of communication that would minimize traffic through the abandoned port city.

“We should go,” Zev said abruptly, the words directed at Ramsey. He inclined his head stiffly to the council worker. “Thank you for your time.”

The man gave an equally unenthusiastic nod before disappearing back inside the tent.

“That was bordering on rude, Zev,” Ramsey said as they remounted their horses. His habitual cheerful tone robbed the words of reproach. “You really shouldn’t judge someone just for being a singer.”

“I don’t,” said Zev, directing his mare northeast. “I don’t have a problem with singers.”

He spurred his horse faster, not interested in exploring the topic. He had enough on his mind figuring out how he would break the news of this latest development to his family.

One thing was for certain—they weren’t going to be happy. And they would surely realize, as he’d done, that it was likely his initial assistance to Marieke that had instigated all of what was happening.

He had some uncomfortable conversations ahead.

Chapter

Six

Marieke had expected the rush of nerves she felt as the carriage pulled into the capital, Ondford. After all, she’d left a month before with the express purpose of avoiding further attention from a ruling council she no longer fully trusted. The same ruling council to which she was about to make an official report.

What she hadn’t predicted was the other raft of emotions that tangled around her apprehension, muddying it. Last time she’d been in the city, she’d been with Zev. If she was perfectly honest with herself, she hadn’t fled to her home just because she felt at risk from the council. She’d also been driven by something bordering uncomfortably close on heartbreak.

If only he was here with her now, she wouldn’t feel as nervous about facing the council. His silent presence beside her last time she gave testimony had meant the world to her. She felt so much more vulnerable this time, all alone. She would really need to do something about that. After all, she’d told Zev she would be careful, and putting herself straight back in the council’s target didn’t feel careful.

Of course, she’d told Zev she’d be careful right before askinghim to help her on her self-appointed mission. Which was also right before he rejected her appeal and drew back from her, both literally and emotionally. She was probably being foolish to think he’d be overly worried about her safety now.

What would he think of this latest turn of events? What would he think of her role? If he’d seen her stop the fire, would he be softened toward magic? Would he be impressed by her?

Embarrassed by her own thoughts, Marieke tried not to think about Zev at all. This task proved difficult when they alighted and Instructor Oriana led them right past the gardens that sat between the council and academy buildings.

The gardens where Gorgon had almost killed her.

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