Page 38 of A Fractured Song

“How curious,” said Rissin, his alabaster brow furrowed. He ignored Zev’s questions completely. “Even for the canyon, this is unusual.” His eyes shifted slowly to Marieke, the brightness of their green almost dazzling. “You are an interesting pair. You’re the one who made the magic move, aren’t you? I saw you open your mouth. When you tried to call out before and no sound came, you were trying to sing, weren’t you?”

“A singer, you think?” One of the others cut in before Marieke had decided whether to answer. “A singer whose voice has been taken by the canyon?”

“But the magic still responded to her somewhat,” Rissin commented. He sighed. “It would be fascinating to keep her alive long enough to conduct some experiments. It’s a rare chance to see a singer interact with the magic of the canyon.”

“Stay away from her.” Zev’s voice was a growl that had begun as soon as Rissin said the word experiment. Marieke found herself in agreement, glaring her displeasure at the cold-hearted strangers.

“They’ve seen us, Rissin,” the one with the blade said. “If they’re not with the monarchists, they can’t be allowed to live.”

“I know.” Rissin sighed again. “But it is a pity.”

“I want to speak to Svetlana!” Marieke said quickly, as the armed stranger lifted his blade again.

To her satisfaction, all three of them paused, matching alabaster brows crinkling.

“So youarewith the monarchists?”

“They’re not monarchists,” another said with a scoff. “Did you see their shock when they saw us? They’ve never seen elves before. And look at their clothes.”

Elves?Marieke had no idea what he was talking about there, but she understood the clothes comment. All the monarchists she’d seen last time had been dressed fully in gray to camouflage with the rock around them.

“I’m known to Svetlana,” Marieke said as confidently as she could manage. “And I came here to see her.”

“Hm.” Rissin considered her. “That changes things. We don’t want to upset our human collaborators by killing their friends. That would make our lives unnecessarily harder.”

The one with the blade didn’t seem convinced, and Marieke didn’t blame him. He could probably see the same gleam in Rissin’s eyes that she could. She strongly suspected he cared less about offending the monarchists than about retaining the possibility to study her and Zev and the magic of the canyon.

But if it prolonged their lives, she’d take it.

“Will you take us to Svetlana and her people?” Marieke pressed boldly.

“In exchange for what?” Rissin asked, his eyes still gleaming in that discomfiting way.

“Hold on,” Zev cut in before Marieke could answer. “Did you say you’re elves?”

“No.” Rissin turned thoughtful eyes on Zev. “I don’t believe we did say that.”

“It was said by implication.” Zev’s voice was hard, his figure unnaturally stiff where he lay on the ground. His eyes flitted to Marieke. “Be careful what you say. According to the legends, elves have magic of their own around them, and words have aforce they don’t have among humans. They’re cold and calculating, and you can bind yourself to a bargain without meaning to.”

“You knew about these…elves?” Marieke’s voice was a squeak.

“I’ve heard stories about them,” Zev told her. “Bedtime stories. I had no idea they were actually real.”

“Real as this sword,” said the elf who had earlier been ready to knife Zev. He was examining Zev’s blade on the ground nearby. Marieke half expected him to take issue with being called cold and calculating, but it didn’t seem to have troubled him. He turned back to his companions. “All right, Rissin, time to make a decision before the freezing enchantment wears off.”

“We’ll take them to Svetlana.” Rissin looked faintly disappointed that he’d failed to get the promise of an exchange from Marieke, but apparently not disappointed enough to order her death. “If she can’t access her songcraft, I see no great threat.” He nodded at Zev’s blade. “But we can’t have him armed. Destroy that.”

Zev gave a cry of outrage as the elf turned toward his sword. Marieke felt the first tingles of movement returning to her fingertips, but if the magic was lifting from Zev as well, it wasn’t doing so quickly enough to save his weapon. The diminutive creature pulled out a round metal disc and placed it on the blade of the sword. Marieke felt a surge of magic, and before her eyes the sharp metal of Zev’s weapon turned to dust.

“Hey!” Zev surged clumsily to his feet just as Marieke flexed her sore arms as well. He stumbled once before gaining his balance and snatching the sword hilt from the ground. “What gives you the right?!”

“The fact that I have the magic and you don’t.” The elf shrugged, untroubled by Zev’s fury.

Marieke hurried forward, laying a calming hand on Zev’sarm before he could do something that would ignite the volatile situation.

“Easy Zev,” she said softly.

He met her eyes, the mutiny in his gaze ebbing as he searched her face. “Are you all right?”

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