Page 63 of A Fractured Song

“Afternoon, friends,” he said pleasantly. “How’ve you gotten yourselves stranded out here, then?” His gaze grew astonished as he took in the filthy and disheveled state of their clothes.

“Just an unlucky mishap,” Zev said, keeping his voice light. “Any chance you could give us a ride?”

“Of course,” said the man with the obliging manner Zev would expect of anyone in his local farming community. “Where you headed?”

Zev gave the direction to his farm while he helped Marieke climb up onto the seat of the wagon.

“That’s not far out of my way at all.” The farmer nodded, pleased. “You’ll have to ride in the back with the sow, I’m afraid.”

Zev eyed his companion calculatingly as he pulled himself into the back of the wagon. She looked docile enough.

Marieke twisted around to look at him. “I’d offer to give you the seat and sit in the back myself, but…I’m not going to.” She grinned, the expression infectious enough to make him chuckle.

“No man worth his salt would let his lady ride with the pig while he sat up here,” their driver pointed out.

“Oh, I’m not—” Marieke started to protest, but Zev cut her off.

“Quite right. So where were you headed before we interrupted you?”

“Home,” he said. “Further east from here, not far south of the canyon.”

The farmer was friendly, and having succeeded in getting him talking, all Zev and Marieke had to do was nod politely and rest for most of the journey. Zev was glad of the time to think. He’d projected confidence for Marieke, but in truth he didn’t know how his family would respond when he arrived with herin tow. He’d like to think they’d swallow their disapproval enough to be polite and passably hospitable, as they had last time. But things had changed since then.He’dchanged, and his family were smart enough to know that Marieke was the reason for that change. But he didn’t know where else to take her. She clearly needed rest, and if there was a possibility Rissin might pursue them up the cliff face, he didn’t want to take any chances.

By the time his farm gate came into view, Zev’s stomach was clenching with hunger, and he had no doubt Marieke felt the same way. He could see her form sagging a little on the wagon’s bench seat, and he was eager to get her lying down as soon as possible.

“This is it,” he told the driver as the gate neared.

“I won’t stop,” the farmer said. “But I’ll come in so I can turn around in your farmyard if that’s all right.”

“Of course,” Zev said.

“What was that?” Marieke had seemed barely awake, but she stirred at Zev’s words. “What do I feel?”

“I don’t know.” Zev edged around the pig, who was watching him lazily. He pushed himself to a crouch in the back of the wagon so he could put a hand on Marieke’s back. “Are you all right? Are you going to fall?”

“I’m fine,” she said quickly. “It wasn’t in my body I felt something. It was something in the land. Magic.”

Zev frowned, as much over the stranger’s reaction to Marieke’s words as over the words themselves. Revealing where he lived had been inevitable, but he’d been hoping to share as little about Marieke as possible.

“You felt magic?” the driver repeated, as he navigated his vehicle through the open farm gate. “Are you a singer, then?”

“Yes,” said Marieke, clearing her throat wearily in order to manage the words. “Don’t hold it against me.”

“Of course not!” The stranger was far too fascinated for Zev’s comfort. “It’s exciting. I’ve never met a singer before! They’re not common in my region.”

“Or this one,” Marieke assured him. “Or the area where I grew up, in Oleand. That’s a farming region, too, and singers are rare.”

“You’re Oleandan, as well? I wouldn’t have guessed it.” The farmer looked her over as though surprised that her country’s name wasn’t written across her forehead. “Well, what a day.” He pulled his wagon to a stop in the yard of Zev’s property. “This morning started like any other, and now here I am driving an Oleandan singer around.”

“Yes, well, thank you.” Zev’s tone wasn’t encouraging as he vaulted over the edge of the wagon and offered his hand to Marieke. “We appreciate the ride. I’d offer you something to drink, but since you said you can’t stay…”

The farmer had brightened at the mention of a drink, his eyes still on Marieke, but when Zev finished the sentence, he let out a sigh.

“I did say that, didn’t I? I’d best get this lady home in time for her supper.” He jerked his head toward the sow.

“Thank you for the ride,” Marieke said, the quiet tone of her voice telling Zev that she was close to passing out from exhaustion. Not knowing her, the farmer had no way to recognize this fact, and he took his leave with the same cheerfulness that had kept him chattering all the way along the road.

Once they’d waved him off, Marieke turned to Zev. “You know,” she said, her expression severe, “where I come from, that non-offer of refreshments would be considered downright inhospitable.”

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