Page 59 of A Fractured Song

Fourteen

Ashot of determination raced through Marieke as Rissin spoke. The elves had captured them far too easily the day before. Not this time.

As Zev moved in front of her, she bent down, snatching up a rock the size of her palm. Now she was paying attention, she could sense the faint pulse of magic coming from the object Rissin was raising above his head. She didn’t want to know what it did.

Drawing her arm back, she sidestepped around Zev, took aim, and released the rock. She’d been aiming for Rissin’s head, and it instead hit his torso, but she still considered it a success. Taken completely by surprise by the mundane, non-magical attack, Rissin toppled backward into the rocky slope behind him.

“Come on!” Marieke grabbed Zev’s arm and began to sprint along the ravine, still moving eastward. She stumbled on the uneven ground and almost fell, but Zev’s hand was suddenly there, steadying her.

A screech of anger behind them told her that Rissin hadrecovered himself, and she knew his companions couldn’t be far away.

“Got a plan?” Zev asked as he ran beside her.

“There!” Marieke pointed to a fissure in the canyon wall ahead and to their right. “Could that be the staircase?”

“I think it’s too soo—” Zev’s words were cut off in a hiss as a blade pinged off the rock beside Marieke’s arm. “They’re aiming for you!” he said, sounding furious.

Marieke didn’t reply, instead grabbing his arm and diving into the fissure. It opened into a small cave, and she ran across it, her eyes trying fruitlessly to see into the dark corners.

“It’s a dead end,” Zev said. “This isn’t the staircase.”

Marieke’s heart was pounding in her throat. She didn’t want to accept that she’d led them into a corner they couldn’t back out of. She went all the way to the back of the cave, feeling frantically along the wall. Zev was right. There was nothing.

“What are we going to do?” she asked, as Zev appeared alongside her.

He had no chance to answer. At that moment, a small form appeared in the patch of light that marked the entrance, followed by two more.

“You big oafs,” Rissin said venomously. “How dare you throw rocks at me?”

Marieke ignored his words, trying desperately to think of a way out. She’d believed Trina when she said they didn’t want to find themselves in Rissin’s hands. She believed it doubly now she’d managed to enrage the little elf. Her instinct was to reach for the magic of the land in defense, and she started to do so before her mind had time to recall that her voice was blocked.

To her amazement, she felt the magic pool in response. She was vaguely aware that it wasn’t moving in the normal way, but anything at all was better than nothing. Hoping for thebest, she opened her mouth, fiercely delighted when song was released.

Rissin let out a cry, obviously not having expected her to regain her voice. He lifted the talisman he’d almost used on them earlier, but he wasn’t quick enough. Marieke’s enchantment hit him first.

In defiance of Rissin’s outrage, Marieke’s song had directed the magic to do the first thing that came to her mind—to throw rocks at him. Prompted by her songcraft, stones lifted from around her and flew toward him. They weren’t large stones—she was limited to those sitting loose on the cave floor—but they were enough to make him throw his arms over his head.

Marieke ignored his shriek, trying to keep focus on her song while also formulating a plan for how best to use magic to get them out of their fix. With her training in agricultural song, her first thought was often to use the terrain itself. But to do so effectively, she’d need knowledge of the landscape in question. She’d had no time to do any kind of analyzing song, and while she had the training to get some sense of the terrain through the magic itself while she channeled it, that training was failing her. The magic of the canyon was so erratic that trying to grasp it was like trying to keep her hold on a slippery fish intent on escaping her grip.

On the other hand, the magic was powerful. Stronger than what Oleandan terrain usually yielded. When Rissin lowered his arms with murder in his eyes, Marieke continued her song, changing its strategy so that the magic was focused on the rocks beneath the elf’s feet. Ripping up the ground required more power than lifting objects already loose. But power wasn’t the problem. There was enough force in the magic gathering in response to her song to crack the cliffside open. The problem was getting that magic to respond to her direction.

She was relieved when she felt a shoot of magic race toward Rissin, making a jagged shard of rock erupt right next to his feet. It caused the nearest ground to tilt, sending Rissin and his companions toppling.

It bought them another moment, but it wasn’t enough. The elves would be back on their feet soon, and Marieke wasn’t confident the magic would obey her again. She needed a better plan, but she couldn’t seem to make her mind cooperate.

“You can do this.” Zev’s voice was low and even in her ear, surprising her with his proximity. He gripped her arm, his hold more steadying than any words. “I know you can.”

Energy surged into Marieke with his words, and it wasn’t just because of his confidence in her. As he neared her, she realized what was off with the magic. It was erratic, but not totally unpredictable. Usually, when she sang, magic pooled to her, gathering around her feet before rushing up into her body. But although she could feel the magic moving in response to her voice, it wasn’t pooling around her. It was pooling around Zev. She’d been managing to coax some of it into her to be molded, but it wasn’t a direct supply. Once Zev grabbed hold of her, however, so much magic rushed to her that she could barely channel it. She felt lightheaded, saturated with too much power to properly wield. It took all her training to grab hold of only a small enough amount for her to actually manipulate.

It was still more magic than she’d ever drawn in before, with the exception of when she’d fought the fire. And it was all rushing into her at once, not being drawn in bit by bit like it had been on that occasion.

It was both intoxicating and terrifying.

As soon as she was confident she had control of it, she thrust the power outward, her voice growing hoarse as she continued to sing with all her might. She sang of the hardness of rock and stone, trying to work her songcraft around theunyielding nature of the terrain. She’d intended to dislodge more rocks to barrage the elves enough to let them escape, but the magic didn’t respond quite as she expected. It was a strange sensation as it flowed through her and out, not like the enchantments she usually molded. It wasn’t just the power in the ground that was eager to respond to her—it was the land itself. For a moment she thought she was experiencing an earthquake, her mind misreading what she was feeling and telling her that the ground was surging beneath her feet. Alarm raced over her, the sensation reminiscent of the time the ground had fallen away underneath all the singers in the delegation.

But before she could give in to panic, she realized that it wasn’t the ground surging this time—it was magic. The fractured magic of Sundering Canyon, writhing and twisting and racing toward her. It wasn’t all coming up and through her, either, as magic usually did. It was pooling around her and Zev, but much of it was shooting straight toward the elves, remaining in the ground.

Trying to think on her feet and adapt her songcraft to this new phenomenon, Marieke changed the words of her song. The blessing Zev had spoken over her when they’d first parted flashed through her mind.

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