Page 3 of A Fractured Song

He led the group to where a wagon stood at the end of the lane, Marieke and her father clambering into the vehicle alongside the others. Marieke could tell that her father still didn’t like the idea of her going into danger, but he didn’t protest again in face of everyone’s eagerness for her help.

The smell of the fire reached them well before the sight. Smoke filled Marieke’s nostrils, suffocating and terrifying because of all it represented. When they reached a crossroads near the affected field, they paused to let another wagon through, this one loaded with barrels of water. Marieke’s heart sank as they followed the wagon around the corner and got agood look at the thick plume of smoke. The sheer size of it told her that the water would do little good.

“How close do you need to be?” demanded the man driving the wagon.

“You can work from a distance, can’t you, Mari?” her father said quickly.

“A bit of distance is helpful,” Marieke agreed. “But closer than this. I need to get a feel for what’s going on.”

“Tell me when to let you out,” the man said. “The rest of us will continue and help unload the water from that other wagon.”

Marieke nodded absently, her senses already focused on trying to test the magic in the ground. Confused, she began to hum softly, not pulling much magic into herself, just probing what her extra sense encountered. This area was much like her home, and the magic in the ground should feel similar to what she knew. But something wasn’t right. There wasn’t enough dormant magic ready to respond to her, but there seemed to be plenty in the air. And it felt…angry. Like fire.

Marieke drew in a breath, ready to sing, and instead let out a choking cough. Much closer and the smoke would inhibit her songcraft due to purely practical reasons.

“Here,” she told the driver, and he pulled the wagon to a stop. She climbed down, her father close behind her, along with another man.

“There’s only so much they can do with the water barrels,” he said by way of explanation. “You may need assistance here.” His voice was grim. “If nothing else, assistance to get out if it comes to that.”

Marieke nodded distractedly, her focus back on the magic. “The wheat field where it started is that way?” she asked, pointing to their right.

The man nodded, seeming surprised. “How could you tell?”

Marieke just shook her head. She didn’t want to tell him what she was thinking, not until she knew whether it meant anything. But the truth was, that was where the angry magic was swirling most strongly. It was distinct from the familiar magic of the farmland, which was behaving just as magic in this type of terrain should.

She put this mystery to one side for the moment, focusing on the fundamental practices of agricultural songcraft that she’d been taught. Keeping her voice low and steady to conserve her energy, she sent out an assessing song, designed to identify areas of danger in farming conditions. As expected, her awareness burned fiercely with the presence of the fire, the sensation of it in her mind uncomfortable almost to the point of pain. She quickly cut off that song, scolding herself for using a strategy that was far too basic for the situation. If there was any other danger of relevance to farming, she wouldn’t be able to find it under the overwhelming influence of the fire.

“What did you learn?” her father asked frantically, noting that her song had finished.

Marieke grimaced. “That the field is on fire.”

He looked at her like she’d lost her mind, but she was too focused on her next move to explain herself. The situation was well beyond diagnosis. She needed to use her song to try to craft a remedy. She closed her eyes, drawing a deep breath as she once again let out a hum to assess the magic of the land. There still wasn’t as much in the ground as she’d expected, but there was certainly enough for her to access it.

Agricultural song was intuitive, she reminded herself, especially for someone who’d grown up on the land rather than in a big city. It was all about the natural elements, and since magic was itself part of nature, nature was more responsive to its influence than, say, a human-built structure.

Keeping her eyes closed, she let her hum grow into a propermelody, putting words to it. The words were according to a formula from her studies, seeking to assess the natural forces of the air, including wind and rain. There were plenty of clouds overhead, but none seemed heavy enough to promise immediate rain, unfortunately. And the wind was behaving in the worst possible way, blowing a dry and steady gale outward from the center of the fire, urging the flames on toward the surrounding fields.

Thatshe should be able to influence, she thought, steeling her resolve. She’d never had to do it on this magnitude before—or with such high stakes—but she’d performed well in her examinations regarding the manipulation of wind. She drew in a quick breath as the words of her song changed, turning to an invocation to the wind. Controlling, or even creating, wind was merely a matter of remolding power from one natural form into another. She wouldn’t usually try to change the course of such a strong wind for fear of the potential unintended consequences, but in this case she didn’t hesitate. The consequences of leaving it unchecked were worse.

Pulling power from the ground and channeling it through herself as swiftly as she could, Marieke sent magic streaking outward, directing it with her song to infiltrate the wind and become part of it. With the magical awareness of the fire still burning dully in her mind, she directed the wind to curl back in on itself, sending the flames toward the already blackened patch of field, where there was nothing to fuel their onward journey.

The effort cost considerable energy, which was no surprise, given the strength of the wind and the large area she was trying to impact. But provided she was up to the task, it shouldn’t have been complicated. To her confusion, she found that the wind was resistant to her direction, fighting the tugging influence of the magic still under her control. Marieke’s voice increased in volume and intensity as she doubled her efforts, refusing to let the power she was channeling yield before the opposite force. She opened her eyes, trying in vain to see through the smoke as sweat beaded on her forehead.

“Mari, what’s wrong?” Her father gripped her arm. “Are you all right?”

She waved him off, unable to speak without breaking her song. With the inexplicable sense only singers were born with, she reached further afield through the ground behind her, finding more reserves of magic to pull on and send to aid in her task.

Gradually, exhaustingly, she felt her songcraft take effect. The wind slowed, then shifted, changing direction as her magic was coaxing it to do. As it turned on itself, Marieke suddenly felt the resistance disappear, not gradually, but all at once. Part of her mind understood something that sent a chill over her, but she pushed it to one side, knowing she still needed to give her full focus to the task at hand. The flames had slowed considerably with the wind no longer on their side, but that wouldn’t be enough to put them out. And nor would the efforts of the humans whose shouts could be heard faintly from further into the field.

Satisfied that the wind was on course and no longer needed her to sustain it, Marieke let her voice drop, drawing in a shuddering breath as she prepared a new song. Once again, her voice reached out in assessment, this time seeking only one natural element: water.

With the use of her magic, she could feel the barrels of water in the out-of-sight wagon, as well as the more dissipated moisture in the low-hanging clouds above them. She hesitated, unsure both what she was capable of, and what was safest. But there was no time to second guess herself.

She knew, as the farmers surely must as well, that thebarrels of water weren’t going to do anything on their own. It was a desperate effort because they couldn’t do anything else, and they couldn’t bear to do nothing. Fortunately, Mariekecoulddo something else.

Taking simple control of an element such as water was advanced magic that was taught as part of agricultural songcraft with much cautioning. It was dangerous both for the singer and for the environment around them. But Marieke couldn’t think of any other option. With a song which was more like a chant about the power and strength of water itself, she sent magic curling up into the barrels, seizing the water that filled them and shooting it into the sky like a jet. It joined the clouds, losing far more of its volume on the way than she would have liked.

Stretching both her energy and her magic past what was comfortable, Marieke reached for the clouds further out, directing power to surround the water in them and pull it inexorably out. Again, she didn’t know what atmospheric ramifications there might be of this redirection of nature, but given she was only capable of reaching the nearest clouds, it hopefully wouldn’t be anything too dire.

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