tired strings.
“Peasant, you are ordered to stop. Immediately.” Malachai’s ominous command hung like a storm cloud.
Jack swam through the crowd, desperate to reach Cedrik first. “Ced, stop. Do as he says.”
Cedrik plucked a few errant notes that quickly fell into place. And became chords. Cedrik played the oldest song he remembered, an old lullaby that he often sang to frighten away Lia’s nightmares. The Wakeful pushed through the last row of people surrounding the defiant old man. Jack reached him a second later, once again imploring him to stop. Malachai’s voice boomed. “I’ve warned you once, old man. There will not be a second.”
The Wakeful drew serrated swords of the same black steel as their armor. They surrounded the old musician, now playing as painstakingly perfect as anyone had ever heard. Lia whimpered as the Wakeful closed on Cedrik like a starving pack of wolves. “ Pafaa ..”
Jack sprinted to Lia, brushing her protectively behind him. “ Ced, please. Don’t do this, we need you.”
The melody slowed, then came to a halt. Cedrik looked to the sound of his family’s voices. A smile, broad and reassuring stretched over his wrinkled face. The crowd of on lookers breathed a collective sigh of tentative relief.
Cedrik panned to a sky he could not see and only barely remembered. With the last bit of Breath in his aching bones he willed darkened eyes to glance upon the light. A sapphire halo of star dust spiraled around his head.
Lia couldn’t believe it. How couldn’t I have known? Why did he keep it a secret?
The blindness fell from Cedrik’s eyes like a masquerade mask. He searched for Lia. He had to see her face one last time. He found her standing by Jack’s side, safely bound at the shoulders by the brawny hands of his closest friend. Cedrik beamed and mouthed the word ‘remember’. In a final act of defiance, Cedrik turned his back on the Wakeful and the tyranny of their queen.
And resumed his song.
“Take him,” Malachai commanded.
“No!” Lia screamed as loud as her lungs would allow. She tried to wrestle free from Jack’s grasp.
The Wakeful blades flashed like black lightning, cutting through cloak and flesh. Cedrik gasped and fell to his knees. He looked around the village that he had called home for the last seven years. The hut that he had once used to deliver newborns. The wharf, where he had mastered the craft of Sensheeri’s trade. A coldness not born of winter settled into his bones and Cedrik shivered. He saw Sensheeri’s lone tavern. Memories of celebration dissolved like lighted shadows. The world grayed. He stared at the child he loved above all, grateful to take Lia’s vibrance into the World After. She was the divine symphony a world deafened by oppression cried out for.
Cedrik cradled his lute and crumpled over.
Malachai pointed his blade at Cedrik and then turned to the stunned crowd. Hateful mocking tinged his drone. “Such is the price for your blasph--”
A lone chord twanged beautifully, rippling through Lia’s heart before sailing across the still lake waters. Cedrik’s body quaked and his hand readied another bit of lullaby. Malachai’s sword flashed with emerald flame. The Wakeful captain drove the inferno through Cedrik’s chest, pinning the old man to the snow. He withdrew, making a proud display of his bloodied trophy.
The blackness returned to Cedrik’s eyes. And then the music was gone.
Chapter 9
The portal sealed with a sucking sound of mud. The Beast rested his paws on his knees, willing his stomach to peace. “Never again.”
A wailing scream split the morning. In an instant, the birdsong of nearby snow doves was hushed. Even the wind, long entitled to whistling over the lake’s tides, found itself silenced. It was the wail of an innocent robbed by a cruel twist of fate. A child tormented by a terrible evil.
The Beast took cover behind the twin cairns marking Sensheeri’s boundary. Crouching, he was half as
“Peasant, you are ordered to stop. Immediately.” Malachai’s ominous command hung like a storm cloud.
Jack swam through the crowd, desperate to reach Cedrik first. “Ced, stop. Do as he says.”
Cedrik plucked a few errant notes that quickly fell into place. And became chords. Cedrik played the oldest song he remembered, an old lullaby that he often sang to frighten away Lia’s nightmares. The Wakeful pushed through the last row of people surrounding the defiant old man. Jack reached him a second later, once again imploring him to stop. Malachai’s voice boomed. “I’ve warned you once, old man. There will not be a second.”
The Wakeful drew serrated swords of the same black steel as their armor. They surrounded the old musician, now playing as painstakingly perfect as anyone had ever heard. Lia whimpered as the Wakeful closed on Cedrik like a starving pack of wolves. “ Pafaa ..”
Jack sprinted to Lia, brushing her protectively behind him. “ Ced, please. Don’t do this, we need you.”
The melody slowed, then came to a halt. Cedrik looked to the sound of his family’s voices. A smile, broad and reassuring stretched over his wrinkled face. The crowd of on lookers breathed a collective sigh of tentative relief.
Cedrik panned to a sky he could not see and only barely remembered. With the last bit of Breath in his aching bones he willed darkened eyes to glance upon the light. A sapphire halo of star dust spiraled around his head.
Lia couldn’t believe it. How couldn’t I have known? Why did he keep it a secret?
The blindness fell from Cedrik’s eyes like a masquerade mask. He searched for Lia. He had to see her face one last time. He found her standing by Jack’s side, safely bound at the shoulders by the brawny hands of his closest friend. Cedrik beamed and mouthed the word ‘remember’. In a final act of defiance, Cedrik turned his back on the Wakeful and the tyranny of their queen.
And resumed his song.
“Take him,” Malachai commanded.
“No!” Lia screamed as loud as her lungs would allow. She tried to wrestle free from Jack’s grasp.
The Wakeful blades flashed like black lightning, cutting through cloak and flesh. Cedrik gasped and fell to his knees. He looked around the village that he had called home for the last seven years. The hut that he had once used to deliver newborns. The wharf, where he had mastered the craft of Sensheeri’s trade. A coldness not born of winter settled into his bones and Cedrik shivered. He saw Sensheeri’s lone tavern. Memories of celebration dissolved like lighted shadows. The world grayed. He stared at the child he loved above all, grateful to take Lia’s vibrance into the World After. She was the divine symphony a world deafened by oppression cried out for.
Cedrik cradled his lute and crumpled over.
Malachai pointed his blade at Cedrik and then turned to the stunned crowd. Hateful mocking tinged his drone. “Such is the price for your blasph--”
A lone chord twanged beautifully, rippling through Lia’s heart before sailing across the still lake waters. Cedrik’s body quaked and his hand readied another bit of lullaby. Malachai’s sword flashed with emerald flame. The Wakeful captain drove the inferno through Cedrik’s chest, pinning the old man to the snow. He withdrew, making a proud display of his bloodied trophy.
The blackness returned to Cedrik’s eyes. And then the music was gone.
Chapter 9
The portal sealed with a sucking sound of mud. The Beast rested his paws on his knees, willing his stomach to peace. “Never again.”
A wailing scream split the morning. In an instant, the birdsong of nearby snow doves was hushed. Even the wind, long entitled to whistling over the lake’s tides, found itself silenced. It was the wail of an innocent robbed by a cruel twist of fate. A child tormented by a terrible evil.
The Beast took cover behind the twin cairns marking Sensheeri’s boundary. Crouching, he was half as
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