Page 22 of A Fractured Song

Again the words were simple enough, but the tone held a warning. They were ordering her to stay put until dismissed? At which point she would be escorted home under supervision? They were definitely suspicious of her, whether because of her presence at the fire or because of her unsanctioned questions, she wasn’t sure.

Either way, Marieke didn’t like it. She lost no time in making her escape from the council when dismissed. That same prickling feeling followed her, and she found herself heading straight for her room. She wouldn’t seek Kaine out for further training after all. And she didn’t intend to wait around for Instructor Rafael or anyone else to take charge of her movements. She understood that the instruction to stay put hadn’t been intended to be optional, but it had been presented just casually enough that she thought she could get away with defying it if she acted immediately.

But what was she going to do? The question swirled uncomfortably through her mind as she gathered her belongings. She had enough coins to pay her way home, but what then? Join her father’s clinic? Wander around hoping to stumble on the next disaster requiring an agricultural singer? It had been weeks since she’d vowed to find out what was happening to Oleand. And she’d achieved nothing toward that end, even as the country battled a new spate of disasters. Worst of all, it sounded like the council was going to spin the fires and storms as random acts not connected to Oleand’s bigger problems—and they might even be looking to label her as the instigator. Quite apart from the risk to her, that avenue was fruitless in actually getting to the bottom of things. If the true problem was to be identified and resolved,someoneneeded to be asking theright questions.

The right questions. The thought inevitably brought her mind back to Kaine’s words yet again. It was another thing she needed answers about. She wished she could be confident that it was safe to simply ask Instructor Oriana to explain it all, but she no longer felt that certainty. She’d already learned that casual inquiries within the academy had a habit of making their way back to the Head Instructor.

So asking outright about the questioning branch of storytelling song would be unwise, and asking about heartsong was completely out of the question. But she remained convinced that heartsong, whatever it was, had something to do with what was happening to the country. And she’d promised herself she’d get to the bottom of it.

Her bag now over her shoulder, she paused with her hand on the door of her temporary room. She shouldn’t waste this unexpected trip to the capital—returning home would put her right back where she started, besides leaving her vulnerable to whatever was in Instructor Rafael’s mind. But where else could she go?

She ran through her options rapidly. She didn’t want to just run away. She wanted to run toward answers. Answers about heartsong, ideally. She’d heard the mysterious magic mentioned twice. Once in a conversation between the Head Instructor and Instructor Isabel, neither of whom she could safely ask for more information. The other time by Gorgon, right before he tried to knife her.

Which was right before Zev slayed him with his own blade. So no answers would be forthcoming from Gorgon, either.

But Gorgon wasn’t a lone lunatic, as the Council of Singers would have everyone believe. Marieke knew better—she knew exactly where he came from. The self-proclaimed monarchists living in Sundering Canyon might have all kinds of answers. It was a risk to approach them, but she was reaching the conclusionthat she wouldn’t get anywhere without taking some risks. And the fact that going to the canyon would put her within hailing distance of Zev’s farm wasn’t lost on her, either.

The monarchists weren’t singers, of course. They might know something about heartsong, but they wouldn’t know anything about a branch of storytelling songcraft that related to asking questions. As she tried to formulate a plan for how to get herself to the canyon, Marieke resigned herself to the reality that she’d probably never find answers on that topic. There was no one she could safely ask in the whole Academy of Song.

The whole Oleandan Academy of Song. Her steps slowed as the thought struck her. If she was going to Sundering Canyon, she’d be most of the way to Tarandon. Perhaps she could find answers at the Aeltan Academy of Song.

The more she thought about it, the more she concluded that she should visit the Aeltan capital before making an attempt on the canyon. Had she wished it, it might be possible to complete her mission without entering Aeltas—she could start at the coast, where the canyon began, and travel along it until she reached the section where the monarchists live. But it would take days to do that journey by foot, through the inhospitable environment of the canyon. Who knew if it was all passable on foot? Or what unforeseen dangers might lurk there? The memory of how the canyon had taken her voice, and thus her access to magic, made her doubly reluctant.

No, she would find a way to get to Tarandon. There she could both provision for her canyon expedition, and make inquiries at the academy about storytelling song. And perhaps from the city, there would be a way to make contact with—

But she cut that thought off before it could grow. Zev might be the first person who’d flown into her mind when she cast around for whom she could trust, but she’d be unwise to placeany reliance on his help. He’d made it clear he wanted no part of her mission.

She could worry about that later. First, she needed to find a way to get to Aeltas. It wouldn’t be an easy feat, given the bridge was still closed. But there must be some communication between the countries happening. She gave a decisive nod. She knew where to start her inquiries.

Marieke slipped out of the building inconspicuously, feeling a surge of gratitude for her upbringing. Those of her fellow students who were from well-to-do singing families would think that if the council said there was no way between the countries, that was that. But coming from a farming community, she knew better. Trade was the true force that connected different communities. There’d be no livelihood in farming if the produce of the farms couldn’t make its way to buyers. The politicians might not be motivated to find a way, but those who made their living from trade would.

She knew where in Ondford the shipments from the northeastern farms were received—she’d hitched a ride to the capital with farming shipments more than once during her years at the academy. From there, she should be able to find a trail outward, hopefully one that led all the way to the neighboring kingdom. Perhaps not farmed goods, but some products were surely still being exported to Aeltas.

She just needed to find a way to get herself exported with them, and ideally before the council noticed her absence.

Chapter

Seven

“Ahead!”

Marieke tensed at the call, her eyes flicking uneasily ahead, even though she couldn’t see through the covered side of the wagon.

“What is it?” she asked the young boy sitting beside her. “Do you think there’s been another storm?”

On the seemingly interminable trip from the capital, they’d already passed through the destruction left by two separate storms, more vicious and devastating than any Marieke had seen before. They’d also seen a vast plume of smoke that suggested Marieke’s region wasn’t the only one to suffer from fire. It seemed Solomon hadn’t exaggerated in what he’d told her.

“I’ll check.” Her companion, the underage son of one of the merchants who made up the caravan, climbed across crates of goods to peer through a gap at the front of the wagon. “Nah, I think it was a happy call. I think we must be close to—wait! I can see the ocean!”

“Sun and shade, that’s a relief,” Marieke said, letting her head drop back against the wagon’s side. “I can’t wait to beback on my feet.” She hadn’t enjoyed traveling the route to Oleand’s western coast by wagon nearly as much as she had on horseback.

That may have had something to do with the company, of course. It was impossible not to think of Zev as she traversed the same route they’d traveled together.

Well, not exactly the same route. Those traders with means enough to establish a water route between the fractured kingdoms had set up their Oleandan base a fair distance north of where Marieke and her group had met their boat last time. They’d still traveled a long way south by land, but she’d been given to understand that the sea voyage would take half a day this time.

With all the merchandise to load and organize, it actually took considerably longer. But Marieke wasn’t complaining. She’d been fortunate to barter passage on the journey for a very low rate by offering her assistance. Using her songcraft to keep the goods stable in the wagons and load them more securely on the ships was a small price to pay to get to the southern kingdom.

And to escape Ondford before the Head Instructor and other council members realized that she was gone.

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