Page 23 of A Fractured Song

When the ship finally reached Aeltan shores, Marieke felt her tension rise. The stone wharf that provided access to the ruined city of Port Taran loomed ahead. Memories of her last visit to this place swirled around her. She’d thought she wanted answers, but she hadn’t been ready for what she and Zev had found there.

She watched her traveling companions as they disembarked, wondering if any of them would have questions of their own when they saw the damaged city. But why would they? Answers were only likely to be seen by those looking for them. And no one showed any tendency to wander off to explore PortTaran. The group was channeled straight from the wharf along a newly marked route that hadn’t been there when Marieke last passed through the town. It led to a small tent settlement that had sprung up just south of Port Taran. It was evidently the new base of trade between the countries, such as it was. No doubt it was intended to be temporary, until a more permanent solution could be found for the deteriorating bridge.

In any event, the new system seemed to be keeping everyone out of the ruined city with its unsettling hints about the past. Even Marieke wasn’t tempted to wander through the streets of Port Taran again. She felt no need to check whether Jade’s messages were still there. No doubt they were—outlasting their creator, if her guess about what had happened to Jade was correct.

The onward journey from the trading camp to the capital city of Tarandon was smooth, if tedious inside yet another wagon. By the time they arrived, Marieke longed for nothing more than to secure lodgings and collapse. But her funds were limited, and she didn’t know how long she would be in Aeltas. She couldn’t afford to spend her coins too freely. It was early in the day—she intended to make her inquiries at the academy then leave the city. She knew she wouldn’t be able to reach the canyon before dark, but she was guessing that lodging in the countryside would be cheaper than in the capital.

After taking her leave of the trading group, Marieke made straight for the building that housed both the Aeltan Academy of Song and the Aeltan Council of Singers. She felt incredibly free as she looked up at the blue banners with budding trees worked onto them in bronze thread. Here in Aeltas, no one had reason to be suspicious of her or hold her at arm’s length. She could ask questions freely, without worrying about who was watching, and who the conversation would be reported to. It was depressing that she felt more wary and unwelcome at herown academy, where she’d graduated not so long ago after giving a good account of herself. When had it become that way? She’d never felt watched or restricted when she was a student.

Pushing these thoughts aside, she tried to look like she was supposed to be there when the guard at the gate asked her business. A slight twinge of guilt went through her as she told him that she was visiting a friend at the academy. Friend might be stretching the truth. But she and Veronica, the student who’d been assigned to show her around on her last visit, had gotten along very well. Marieke was hopeful that she’d be well received.

As Marieke strode across the courtyard, her attention was drawn to a small building just outside the council center. She hadn’t noticed it last time, but now it was impossible to miss, because of how much it was buzzing with activity. A long line had formed in front of it, and every so often someone ran in or out of the back area.

Driven by curiosity, she redirected her steps for a closer look. She cleared her throat as she came alongside the person at the back of the line.

“Excuse me. What’s this line for?”

“For the new message station,” the young man said. “I’m not sure if I’ve come at a bad time of day or if it’s always this busy.” He smiled in a friendly way. “Not that I’m surprised it’s popular. Anything new always is.”

“What’s new about it?” Marieke asked, watching with interest as a young woman wearing the blue uniform of an employee of the Aeltan Council of Singers darted out of the building.

As Marieke and her companion drew slowly closer to the front of the line, her ears caught a faint hum of song, and her senses picked up the stirring of magic in the ground beneath her.

“Are the messages powered by songcraft somehow?”

“That’s right.” The stranger nodded. “Magical communication used to be available only through privately hiring a qualified singer, and it was too expensive for everyday use. But the council has now opened up an official system of song-powered post. It’s regulated, and much more affordable.”

“That’s quite the innovation,” said Marieke, impressed. Oleand didn’t have anything like that. “Why the change, I wonder?”

“Word is that since the bridge has been out of action, there’s been a lot of study and energy channeled into improving magical methods of communication,” the stranger said. “This is one of the benefits that’s come out of it, I suppose.”

“So you can send messages from here into Oleand?” Marieke asked, amazed. That would be very useful to her. “How far can they reach?”

“Not that far,” the man said. “But I hear there’s a similar station set up near the broken bridge, where they send messages just across the canyon.” He jutted his chin out by way of pointing to a sign next to the message station, which they were now close enough to read. “As it says there, fifteen leagues is the current limit. But I think they’re hoping to extend it.”

Marieke nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose they’ll need to set up more bases for stopover points in order to do that,” she murmured. “They’ll probably send the letters in stages, rather than trying to send them halfway across the country in one go. It would be difficult to ensure the magic remained steady and consistent so far away. And I expect they’ll need employees proficient in guarding songs to send protection along with the post.” It was all very interesting.

“You seem to know a lot about this topic,” the stranger commented, eyeing her.

“No, I’m just guessing,” Marieke said absently. “I’m a singer, but I’ve never been involved with a project like this.”

“You’re a singer?” he repeated, sounding impressed. “I suppose you could send a letter on your own.”

She smiled. “Not reliably. There’s a reason private singers charge a lot for communication. It requires the right type of study. Anyway, I’m not sending a letter at present, not if they can’t reach into Oleand.”

It was a shame—she really needed to let her parents know that she’d left the country and was safe, just in case the Head Instructor sent someone looking for her and scared them with his inquiries.

With a wave at the helpful stranger, she continued on to the only entrance to the academy that was open to the public. She knew there was a welcome desk inside, where she should be able to inquire after Veronica.

She gave her name with a little bit of trepidation, but was gratified only about fifteen minutes later to see Veronica coming down the corridor, looking surprised but pleased.

“Marieke! This is unexpected. Pleasantly so, of course.”

“I’m glad,” said Marieke, with a slightly awkward laugh. “I know I’m imposing, just stopping by uninvited like this. But I happened to be back in Tarandon, and I thought I’d take the opportunity to look you up.”

“I’m happy you did,” Veronica assured her. “Do you have time to stop for a bit? You’ve caught me at a good moment—I don’t have any more classes until after lunch. Should I make a tea tray to take to my room?”

Marieke glanced behind her, where sunshine poured in through the open doorway. “Actually, do you want to go for a walk? I need to visit the market while I’m here, and I could use the company to make sure I don’t get cheated like the clueless foreigner I am.”

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