Page 83 of A Fractured Song

Zev shook his head. “From the elves.”

“Sure.” Marieke’s tone was dry. “Once I find them, I’ll be sure to ask for their help in finding them.”

Zev grinned. “That’s obviously not what I mean. Remember when you sent me a letter, right to my farm? I still have the map that shopkeeper sold us. What if we wrote a message on it and you used songcraft to send it eastward? Would it be turned back by the magic, do you think?”

“Hm.” Marieke considered it. “It’s an interesting idea. Definitely worth trying.”

Zev pulled out the map, and Marieke wrote a clear, simple message, using the nearby signpost as a guide.

We are Marieke of Oleand and Zevadiah of Aeltas. We know of your settlement, and we seek an audience with your Imperator. You can find us on the main road, ten leagues south of the village of Firth.

“There,” she said, studying it. “Straight to the point, and if it’s intercepted by a human, it won’t identify the intended recipients as elves.”

“Do you know how to do a sending enchantment, or whatever the term is?” Zev asked.

“No,” Marieke admitted. “I used an official message station last time. I can’t send it to a particular recipient or location. But I can call some wind to carry it eastward. I think I have the required control to make the wind targeted and contained, so it can dodge its way through the trees for a decent distance at least.”

“Well, it’s better than I could do,” Zev said with a shrug.

Marieke rolled up the parchment, casting her eyes around for something to tie it with. She eyed Zev for a moment, then tugged at one of the laces that dangled from the top of his tunic.

“Marieke,” Zev said, his shocked tone not fooling her for a moment. “And here I thought I could trust you with my honor, alone in the jungle and at your mercy.”

She rolled her eyes, even as she lowered her face to her task to hide the flush his words brought. “Oh, don’t be ridiculous. Your tunic is already unlaced anyway.”

“It’s hot,” Zev said by way of defense. “I can’t breathe with it all laced up.”

The thought flashed through Marieke’s mind thatshefound it a little hard to breathe every time her eyes fell on the exposed part of Zev’s chest, but she refrained from saying so. His egowas plenty healthy as it was, and she wanted to maintain some dignity, after all.

Having finished tying the parchment up with the lace, she cleared her throat and summoned magic to her. It surged eagerly through the ground, only too ready to take the offered outlet through her body.

Marieke formed her song with care, drawing on the ability to test the terrain that she’d learned in her agricultural songcraft. It didn’t reveal much beyond a close radius, as she’d discovered in the morning’s various attempts to penetrate the jungle, but it would help her give the parchment a good start.

She and Zev both watched as a light breeze stirred beneath her hand, lifting the rolled-up paper into the air and sending it drifting toward the trees. She kept singing for some time after it disappeared before eventually letting the song die. She could no longer sense where the paper was headed anyway. She would have to trust her enchantment to carry it as directed.

They made themselves as comfortable as they could, setting up a camp a little way into the trees and pulling out some food. They were just on the edge of the boundary, and even though they weren’t fully outside it, she still noticed Zev rubbing near his heart from time to time. Her eyes were drawn to the gesture each time, but she didn’t comment until they’d been sitting for a few hours.

“Are you uncomfortable?” She told her eyes not to linger on his exposed chest when he lowered his hand.

“I’d be more comfortable if you’d summon another breeze to cool me down,” he said. “Can you do that?”

“Yes, I could. But it wouldn’t last long.”

“I don’t know.” Zev leaned back against his tree, the hint of a grin lifting one corner of his mouth as he crossed his arms behind his head and closed his eyes. “It would if you keptsinging. You could serenade me and blow a nice wind over me until the elves show up.”

She gave him a look that he couldn’t see. “Shall I also feed you delicacies by hand while you recline at leisure, Your Majesty?”

There was an awkward edge to Zev’s laugh, and he sat up straighter and opened his eyes.

“That won’t be necessary.”

Marieke studied his face, his loss of composure piquing her interest.

“You didn’t like that joke,” she commented. It wasn’t a question, but her next words were. “Why not?”

With the question, she felt the magic in the ground increase in intensity, like the torrent was suddenly bubbling and boiling frantically underneath her rather than racing past.

“Whoa,” she said. “Calm down.”

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