Page 37 of A Fractured Song

“That’s a pain.” A second voice responded to the first, the pitch equally high and the words accompanied by a sigh. “Must be a patrol of those monarchists coming. You know what they’re like. They’ll slow everything down and just be a general nuisance.”

Zev kept his eyes fixed ahead, but he could feel Marieke’s confusion behind him, echoing his own. These strangers weren’t part of the monarchists? There was more than one group hiding out in Sundering Canyon?

“Well, we may as well keep at it until they find us,” a new voice chimed in. Again, the pitch seemed too high for an adult, although the voice didn’t sound in the least childlike. “Come on, I like the feel of things over—”

The words were cut off as three figures rounded the tree trunk and came into view. Everyone froze—Zev included—as the two groups caught sight of each other. He’d thought himself ready to fight anything, but he had most certainly not been ready for what he was seeing.

“They’re not monarchists!” one of the newcomers screeched. “Take them out, Rissin.”

The words brought Zev springing back into action. He threw himself properly in front of Marieke, the edge of his sight catching her furrowed brow and open mouth as he drew his sword with lightning speed.

Not enough speed for his opponents, however. He’d barely reached a defensive stance when one of them broke something in his hands with a loud snap. Marieke cried out, and a secondlater, Zev’s whole body went rigid, his limbs completely immobilized by what he could only assume was magic. He had no idea how they’d done it—he’d heard no song.

He keeled over, the impact of hitting the ground causing his sword to clatter out of his hand. The roar that burst from him told him he still had use of his voice, but that wouldn’t help him save Marieke or himself from the beady-eyed creature striding toward them with drawn blade.

Chapter

Ten

Marieke gasped, her mind whirling with confusion as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. Who were these creatures?Whatwere they? They were human in shape, but they weren’t like any humans she’d ever seen. Their skin was unnaturally pale, and although the three of them were clearly adults, they only came up to Zev’s midriff—or at least they had, before they’d sent both Zev and her toppling to the ground with some kind of immobilizing magic.

Magic that made no sense, because it had clearly emanated from the middle one of the trio of strangers, but he hadn’t even opened his mouth, let alone sung anything.

Marieke lay prone, unable to move thanks to the magic. It was only as Zev let out a roar that it occurred to her that she might be able to speak.

“Wait!” she cried, relieved to hear her own voice.

The member of the miniature trio who was striding forward ignored her. He bent over Zev, his startlingly green eyes glittering as he flourished a small blade.

“This one has murder in his eyes,” he commented, his high voice dispassionate. “I’ll probably be best to kill him first.”

“Don’t draw it out,” complained one of the others. “We’re not human barbarians—don’t take pleasure in violence.”

“I don’t take pleasure in it,” the first one said matter-of-factly. “But someone has to do it, and I guess that someone is me.”

“Please, listen to me!” Marieke cried desperately, over the top of Zev’s growl of anger.

Fear clutched at her when none of them responded. On instinct, she felt for the magic in the ground below, trying to draw it toward her. As always, the magic of the canyon was pure chaos, and she couldn’t grasp much. Not that it would help her if she could, given she didn’t have her singing voice. She’d tried a defensive song when the strangers approached, and no sound had come out. But she could still feel the magic responding to her reaching. Even if it wasn’t pooling around her like she intended, it was definitely moving.

“Whoa. Hold.”

The one with the blade raised above Zev paused at his companion’s words, looking irked at the interruption but obeying at once. “What is it?”

The stranger who’d spoken, the one called Rissin from whom the immobilizing magic had come, stepped forward.

“Look at that. Look what the magic is doing.”

Confused, Marieke followed his gaze to see a cylindrical tool in his hand. It was long and thin, more than twice the size of the small man’s whole hand. It was made of some kind of silver metal, save for a strip of gleaming gold running its length.

The stranger raised his head and fixed his eyes—the same emerald green as his fellow’s—on Zev. The movement caused his long, straight hair to fall such that the tips of his ears protruded.

Tips that were tapered and wobbling slightly.

Marieke was so busy staring at them, she almost missed what everyone else was looking at. It was Zev’s tense voice that reminded her that the stranger had pointed the object ominously toward Zev.

“What is that? What are you doing?”

Marieke gasped. The ground all around Zev was glowing brightly in the dim shadows of the canyon. The light pulsed and shifted, like a fitful gust of wind blowing the long grass on the hill near her home.

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