Song of Blood & Stone (Earthsinger Chronicles Book 1) (8 page)

Jack rallied, drawing whatever inner strength he could into his depleted limbs. A small hum of Earthsong tickled at his wounds, but he could sense her weakening. He cracked his knuckles and tried to fashion his frozen face into a grin.

“Now’s not the time to grow lazy.” He wasn’t sure she could understand him over the chattering of his teeth, but she nodded and they stood. At a groaning rumble overhead, they looked up. Something large shifted and slid. He moved forward to see what was happening, but she grabbed him by his coat and pulled him back. Her eyes were huge circles of fear as everything around them started to shake.

With a violent
boom
, an avalanche of snow slid down the mountain, obliterating the path that they were on. The motion pushed them back against the wall as sheets of snow and ice crumbled away and slid off the mountain in front of them. Beneath their feet, the ground convulsed, knocking them off-balance. Jack fell forward into the rioting rush of snow.

Where he’d expected his hands to hit the ground, they hit nothing. He reached out frantically, grasping for purchase as his weightless body plummeted into the darkness blanketed by the cold wet pressure all around him.

“
Jack!” The rush
of the avalanche swallowed Jasminda’s scream. Desperate fingers came away empty as he disappeared beneath a gush of snow and ice. She reached for Earthsong, opening herself too quickly and not able to control the flow of energy. Her heart stuttered. It was as if the ground beneath her own feet had just fallen away.

She tried again, this time connecting, drawing a stream of power inside her, but she was so weak there was little she could do with it. She stared at the sudden drop-off where the path had been moments before. The shotgun and the lantern had fallen with Jack, leaving her only the dim glow of ambient moonlight to see by as it reflected off the whiteness all around her.

The crush of snow from above tapered off, then stopped. She fell to her knees, leaning over the edge, panic and anguish blinding her as much as the storm. Nothing but snow was visible in any direction.

She called his name again into the black.

Was this how Papa’s and the twins’ last moments had been? This mountain had already taken so much from her, and now it had claimed Jack, as well. She sank down farther, allowing the cold to leach away what little feeling she had left in her feet and legs. What was left to fight for? What was left at all? Despair choked her, cutting off her oxygen, silencing her sobs.

Look up.

The thought appeared in her mind as clear as a voice, though the night was silent save for the wailing wind. She obeyed, peering up toward the blustering clouds. Like water swirling around an open drain, the falling snow overhead swam in a spiral with a patch of clear sky in its middle, directly over her head. The snow ceased and starlight twinkled down on her. A sound from over the cliff’s edge pulled her attention back down. A soft, glowing light approached her, floating upward as if on wings. She rose on trembling legs, unable to look away from the eerie brightness. As it drew nearer, Jasminda recognized the outline of her lantern. Rising along with it was an unconscious Jack.

The soft buzz of Earthsong surrounded her, lifting her off her feet, as well. Her head whipped around, searching out the mysterious Singer, but nothing pierced the weak lantern light. She grabbed Jack’s motionless hand and pulled him into her arms as they floated straight up. Having him back calmed her enough that she could take a breath and reach again for her own connection to Earthsong.

The energy moving them was benevolent. She could never have sung a spell strong enough to lift two adults into the air, but at least she could sense that the powerful, unknown Singer had no ill intentions. Her relief was short-lived. As she stretched her reach further, she brushed against the awareness of several others nearby. She could feel their presence but all other emotion was blocked. Tension tightened her belly once again.

The avalanche had destroyed much of the physical path. The spell carried them to where it began again, farther up the mountain, and set them down on a patch of snowy ground. The space was protected from the storm by a sort of bubble, similar to the one she’d made to protect them from the palmsalt, but this one was much larger and stronger. While she couldn’t see anyone, she felt people close-by.

Jack stirred, pulling her attention away from their surroundings. She brushed snow off his face and let out an anxious breath when he blinked his eyes.

“Welcome back,” she said.

“Delighted to be here.” He frowned. Flexed his arms and legs.

She crawled closer, anxious. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

A brilliant smile spread across his face. He shook his head. “Not at all.”

She studied his energy and found his wounds completely healed. Bones sound, blood stanched, the hole above his heart had not even left so much as a scar from what she could tell.

The darkness around them moved and shadows broke away from the rock wall, stepping into the weak circle of light. Two men and two women, all Lagrimari and armed with rifles, came forward. Jasminda scrambled back, her hand diving into her coat pocket where she’d stored her pistol. Jack too produced a revolver—the sergeant’s—holding it at his side. The Lagrimari weren’t pointing their weapons but held them at the ready. They weren’t soldiers; they wore no uniforms. Their clothes were made from tough, gritty-looking material similar to burlap. The men and women themselves seemed tough and gritty, as well. Jasminda tensed as the group regarded them with hard gazes.

Footsteps crunched in the snow behind the Lagrimari. A small head appeared and pushed its way to the center.

“I told you to go back to the cave,” one of the women spit out as a little boy pulled away from her grasp. The woman’s face was badly scarred on one side with jagged lines. The boy was around six or seven with a shock of black hair and round cheeks. He smiled brightly revealing two missing front teeth.

Jasminda pointed her pistol to the ground, peering at the boy.

“Well, hello there,” Jack said in Lagrimari. “Are you the welcome wagon?”

The boy beamed at Jack, who smiled back uncertainly. Jasminda watched the exchange, confused. What exactly was going on?

“He’s an incorrigible child,” the scarred woman spat.

“He is only trying to counteract your pigheadedness, Rozyl,” another voice said from the darkness. An old woman stepped into the light, her face leathered and wrinkled. She was gray-haired and stooped, and wore a ragged coat of matted fur. “It’s too cold out here for all this bother. Pssht. Put those away.” She waved her hand, and the armed men and women strapped their rifles to their backs and retreated into the shadows. Rozyl was the last to do so—she scowled at Jasminda before she went.

“Come, children. Come inside where it’s warm.” The old woman placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Thank you, Osar. We wouldn’t want our guests to feel unwelcome.”

“Who . . . who are you?” Jasminda asked.

“I am Gerda ul-Tahlyro. This little one is Osar, always trying to do good deeds.” She smiled down at the child, who seemed a bit abashed.

Jasminda could only stare at the boy. “That was his spell?”

“Oh yes. He’s the strongest of us all.”

“They don’t need to know that,” Rozyl growled from somewhere in the darkness.

“Osar has already said these two are safe. What reason have we not to trust them?”

“I don’t trust anyone.” Footsteps crunched away. The cave entrance must be there, hidden in the darkness. When the last footsteps disappeared, Jasminda stood, taking Jack’s offered hand.

He was peering at Gerda, his brows drawn. Jasminda expected him to say something, but when he didn’t, she offered her hands to Gerda, palms out in greeting. “I’m Jasminda ul-Sarifor, and this is Jack . . .” She waited for him to provide his surname, but he remained silent.

Gerda squinted at her outstretched hands. Jasminda blinked rapidly, unsure of her mistake. Though she’d never actually had anyone greet her properly in Elsira, she hadn’t thought this Lagrimari woman would shrink from her touch.

“In Lagrimar, they greet one another by bringing a hand to the forehead,” Jack said, reaching for Gerda’s right hand and bringing it up to touch his head. Jasminda swallowed and dropped her hands, heat rising in her neck and cheeks.

“Sarifor, you say?” Gerda said, cocking her head to the side. “Any relation to Dansig ol-Sarifor?”

The world fell away for an instant as an image of Papa’s smiling face crossed her vision. She blinked past it and forced herself to breathe. “You knew my father?”

Gerda nodded. “Long ago.” She turned and disappeared into the shadows. “Come along now. There’s a warm fire inside.”

Utterly shaken, Jasminda moved to grab the bag and lantern, but Jack’s quick fingers plucked them away first. He chuckled at her exasperation, but the expression did not reach his eyes.

“What do you think?” she whispered.

He watched the storm blustering just on the edge of their little invisible wall of protection. “I’ll go first,” he said, then grabbed hold of her hand and charged ahead.

She was glad for his hand in hers. The mountain caves and tunnels frightened her. They had been strictly off-limits growing up, and even her intrepid brothers had listened to Papa’s words and stayed away. Only half a dozen cave openings lined the mountain path, and her family passed them countless times on their way to and from town. But they had never ventured in. Something about the gaping openings sent off danger signals. On a primal level, they felt like places to be avoided.

Though Jack had been expecting them to use the tunnels to shortcut the storm, she’d had no real intention of doing so. Her plan, such as it was, had been to hope the storm abated early or, if it didn’t, wait it out at the mouth of one of the caves. Once he stepped inside one, he would no doubt feel the danger and agree that waiting and going over the mountain was the best option

But he did not shudder the way she did as they entered. He gave no evidence that his skin was crawling with the oppressive atmosphere in the darkened cave. With each step, the temperature grew steadily warmer, but cold goose bumps abraded her skin.

A short tunnel opened to a huge chamber many stories high. The interior was wholly unexpected; instead of the rough surface of rock, the walls and floor were glassy and smooth, but not slippery. It was as if they had been blown in the forge of a glassmaker. They reflected the lamplight, illuminating the entire space. She ran her fingertips across the strange rock, then jerked them back as if stung. There had been no pain, but she struggled to calm her rioting belly. Her breath pulsed in short gasps.

Jack turned, concern on his face. He pulled her closer, wrapping an arm fully around her. “What’s wrong?”

“You don’t feel that? The
wrongness
of this place? It’s like . . .” The lifeless eyes of the man she’d killed swam into her vision. The cave smelled of pungent earth and stale air, but underneath it all, she smelled blood. She considered connecting to Earthsong to explore the foreboding, but the idea caused a ripple of nausea to overwhelm her. That same instinct screaming the danger of the caves told her that this was not a place for magic. For the first time ever, the thought of using Earthsong filled her with dread.

“We can just wait here for the storm to end,” Jack said, his warm breath on her ear pulling her back from the edge of panic. She focused on him, his arm around her, the strength in his body now that he was no longer in pain. He was a solid thing to hold on to, and she leaned into his sturdy chest. “I think these Lagrimari are Keepers of the Promise. Rebels against the True Father.”

Her breathing eased, allowing his words to sink in. “They’ve crossed the Mantle . . . How? Why?”

He shook his head. “Perhaps they knew of the cracks. As to why . . .”

Off to the right, another tunnel was lit by a flickering fire. Voices buzzed from within. Jack grew quiet as they approached and paused at the entry to the small cave. A well-tended fire roared in the center, sleeping packs spiraling out from it. A handful of careworn women, each huddled with a small child or two, looked up at her. Osar sat with a slightly older girl near the fire. Rozyl and the others from outside stood grouped together in the corner, hovering over Gerda who sat on the ground with two other elders.

“Come,” Gerda called, her voice cracked. “No use skulking about in the corridors.”

Jasminda surveyed the two-dozen Lagrimari and approached. She had never seen so many people who looked like her in the same place. But each face she peered into held a sort of quiet desperation, a somberness that hinted at a life of struggle. Except for Rozyl’s. She merely glared. Jasminda set her jaw and glared back, unsure as to the source of the hostility. The woman’s gaze dropped to Jack’s arm around her shoulder, and Jasminda tensed. He was the only Elsiran here.

“Have a seat,” Gerda said.

Jasminda eyed the ground suspiciously but had little choice unless she wanted to stand for the foreseeable future. They settled on the ground in front of the elders, but Jack kept his body turned to the side, continually scanning the room. Rozyl and her crew moved a few metres away.

“This is Turwig ol-Matigor and Lyngar ol-Grimor.” Gerda pointed to the old men.

“You are Keepers of the Promise?” Jack asked with a sidelong glance.

“We are,” Gerda said. Rozyl groaned.

“Did you know my father, as well?” Jasminda asked the men. A look passed between them that she couldn’t decipher.

“It was many years ago, child. I can hardly recall,” said Turwig, whose kind face held a grandfatherly quality.

The one called Lyngar had deep lines etched into his face, his perpetual scowl making her wonder if he was related to Rozyl. “I can. He was a scoundrel. He abandoned his regiment. Unforgivable!”

Jasminda tensed and focused on the unpleasant man. “He was captured in the Sixth Breach. A prisoner of war.” She forced the words out through clenched teeth.

“Is that what he told you?” Lyngar snorted. Gerda shot him a murderous glare, and he looked away, not exactly chastened, more like he’d grown bored with the conversation.

“He journeyed to the World After two years ago along with my brothers . . . to join my mother, who was Elsiran.” She said the last as a challenge, to see how he would react. Lyngar’s head whipped toward her before his gaze shot to Jack.

“So that is why you cavort with them.”

Jasminda moved to stand, wishing she could throttle the old man or, at the very least, get away from him. Jack’s hand on her arm stilled her, and she sat stewing in rage. The fire was either far too hot or her blood was boiling.

“Why have you brought these people across the Mantle?” Jack said, motioning to the women and children in the center of the room.

“It will fall soon,” Gerda said simply.

“Yes, and the Elsiran side will be no safer than Lagrimar if the True Father makes it across.”

Gerda and the old men shared another meaning-laden glance. Rozyl stalked up, towering over the seated group. Her face was taut as she stared at Gerda, pleading silently. Whatever was going on, it was obvious Rozyl did not want Jasminda or Jack to know about it.