Page 65 of A Fractured Song

“I did. You all remember Marieke, I’m sure.”

“Of course.” Narelle smiled. “How are you, Marieke?”

Marieke opened her mouth to reply, but Zev beat her to it.

“She’s dead on her feet,” he said. “It’s a long story, but basically she got us out of a very tight spot with some spectacularsongcraft. She desperately needs to sleep, but I’m sure she would welcome some food first.”

“I would,” said Marieke frankly. Her eyes found Narelle, as the least intimidating of the trio. “But I don’t want to impose—”

“I think we’re past worrying about that, child,” said the older woman, not unkindly. She pushed her milk pail into her younger son’s hands and mounted the steps briskly. “Come on, let’s get you off your feet. Supper is a little way off, but I have some bread and butter you can eat right away.”

Marieke followed her, her stomach rumbling at the mention of food. Realizing that Zev wasn’t coming, she glanced back. He was leaning with his hip against the railing, his arms folded and his face calm as he studied his father and brother. They were clearly waiting for her to leave to say whatever they wanted to say, and she wasn’t at all averse to missing the confrontation. She picked up the pace, feeling a sense of relief when the door swung shut behind her.

“Poor thing, you do look dead on your feet,” Zev’s mother said, casting a critical eye over Marieke as she ushered her into the kitchen. “What’s happened to your clothes? You and Zev both look like you were caught in a landslide.”

“We scaled Sundering Canyon,” Marieke said, too weary for subtlety. “Climbed right up the side of it.”

“All the way from the bottom?” Narelle was clearly alarmed, and Marieke didn’t blame her.

“Yes. It was dangerous,” she acknowledged, easing herself gratefully into a chair as her hostess fished out a plate and some bread. “But not as dangerous as it sounds. I was able to use magic to sort of smooth the way.” Marieke shook her head. “Well, I had a hand in it. I can’t fully claim credit. I’ve never felt magic behave quite the way it did back there. But they do say that the magic of the canyon is unpredictable.”

She looked up to see Narelle watching her shrewdly, and grimaced. “Sorry. You don’t want to hear me talking on about magic, do you?”

“Actually, I do,” Narelle informed her, spreading butter liberally on a slice of bread. “I’m very interested to know what you and Zev were up to since he left.”

Marieke stretched her neck out, trying to relieve the stiffness she still felt from climbing for so long with her neck craning upward.

“I think I should let him tell it his own way. Things got pretty…” She thought of the impossible, miniature elves. “Strange.”

“Well, I’m glad you both survived to return to us unscathed,” Narelle said.

“Are you?” Marieke had meant the question to be humorous, but it didn’t come out quite right. “Having Zev not only reconnect with me, but bring me back here is more or less your worst fear, isn’t it?”

She hadn’t thought she was capable of taking in more revelations, but as she spoke the words, she felt something strange happen. Magic shifted in the ground beneath her, its signature subtle and unique. It didn’t pool to her in a flood…it was more like a gentle trickle, perfectly attuned to her magical sense. It wasn’t so much that it was doing anything in response to her words, more that it was alerting her to the fact that it was available to do something should she wish to direct it.

Was it…was it reacting to her question? Without her even trying to sing? Was that what it felt like to have an aptitude for the question-centered branch of storytelling magic?

“Whoa,” she said, speaking to no one in particular. “I actually felt it that time.” She raised her eyes to Narelle. “What did I just ask you? It must have been an astute question.”

Narelle was watching her with one raised eyebrow. “If you say so yourself.”

Marieke let out a weak laugh. “Sorry. I suppose that sounded conceited. I’m afraid I’m too tired to be diplomatic. I’ve had a very confusing couple of days. And it seems the magic of the land has still more surprises for me.”

“What does that mean?” Narelle asked, but Marieke’s thoughts were already taking off in a different direction.

“I’ve just remembered my question,” she said ruefully. “The one that activated the magic. I asked if Zev bringing me here is your worst fear. I suppose I have my answer.” She couldn’t quite restrain a wince as she met the older woman’s eyes. “Am I really so awful?”

“Of course you’re not,” said Narelle, sliding the plate of bread to Marieke and seating herself opposite. She looked uncomfortable, but she showed Marieke the respect of meeting her eyes. “We don’t dislike you, Marieke.”

Marieke was mainly focused on consuming the food as quickly as dignity would allow, but she spared Zev’s mother a pained look.

“I know I’m young, but I’m not a fool. I also have plenty of experience being alone in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by people who have the upper hand on me. I know when I’m vulnerable, and I know when I’m unwelcome.”

Narelle sighed. “I’m sorry if we’ve made you feel either vulnerable or unwelcome. We’re all a little on edge because of recent events.”

“What events?” Marieke asked. “Is everyone all right?”

“Yes,” said Narelle. “But our region is under close scrutiny by the Council of Singers, and to be honest, we’d prefer them to leave us alone to get on with our lives.”

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