Page 114 of A Song of Ash and Moonlight

“Wait.” Alastrina glared at Ryder, then at me. “Did you come alone? Just the two of you?”

Ryder glanced at me, uneasy. “Yes. We didn’t plan to, but the road—”

“And you’re going to rescue me and leave everyone else?” Alastrina stepped back from him. Her eyes glistened with angry tears. “You can’t. You fools, if you were going to come you should’ve brought anarmy, one strong enough to raze this place to the ground.”

Before either of us could respond to that, the tent flap flew open and a gleaming figure strode in. His beauty nearly knocked me flat. His skin was a burnished copper, his hair a long white cloud of braids that seemed to dance like cottonwood seeds in his wake. His eyes were a bright turquoise, his pointed ears glittered with bloodred jewels and silver chains, and his gauzy robes were filmy as clouds, the same perfect sky blue as the tent.

My blood ran cold, and my song at last fell silent. I’d never seen one in the flesh, but I knew at once what he must be: one of the fae.

“And here’s our gorgeous champion,” he said. His voice was light and silver, like water rushing over stones. But then he saw us and froze, and those cheerful bright eyes turned dark with fury.

“What is this?” he purred, a slow smile curling across his face. “I don’t believe I gave you permission to entertain guests, my pet.”

The fae snapped his fingers, and an instant later the two armored guards from the arena burst into the tent, their swords flashing. But just then came a clamor of noise from behind us—shrieks, caws, feline yowls. The fae’s eyes widened; even the guards faltered. I whirled to see a whole herd of beasts stampeding into the tent, our jay friend leading the way—at least two dozen birds, a handful of raptors, a sleek panther wearing a jeweled collar, a white stallion with its silver reins trailing.

“Farrin!” Ryder bellowed, running toward me. He dragged a stunned Alastrina behind him. I noticed with dismay that without my song to help clear her mind, her eyes had begun to cloud over again. But now was not the time for a song of clarity. I heard the desperation in Ryder’s voice:Hide us!

Together we ran from the tent, and I began singing the melody from before, the one that had cloaked us. Note for note, phrase for phrase, the song poured out smoothly, as if my frantic running body were one creature and my serene voice quite another. The song carved a path for us through the crowds, and though I could see people turning all around us, exclaiming and curious, their eyes slid right past us, and we ran on—until, suddenly, Alastrina changed. She jerked on Ryder’s arm, wrenched herself free of him, and kicked his legs out from under him. He fell hard, hit his face and elbow. Alastrina pounced on him, started pounding him with her bound fists, and in my shock I stopped singing for only an instant—but it was enough. I felt eyes cut toward us from all sides, heard hisses and gasps, roars of anger. An arrow flew past us, then another; the second one grazed my arm.

I cried out in pain but somehow managed to hold on to the threads of my song—no longer the song of distraction but the song of clarity. I stopped long enough to scream, “Alastrina,stop!”

That seemed to jolt her, as did my song, each note shaky but clear. She staggered back from Ryder, looking at her fists and then at him in horror. Her eyes were free of fog. Ryder reached up and yanked her down just before a spinning ax went flying through the air where she’d been standing.

“Whatever’s in you,” he shouted at her, “you need to fight it! Farrin can’t hide us if she’s busy holding you together!”

Alastrina looked at me, then spun around and shouted something I didn’t understand—another bestial language, each word sharp as a knife. I hoped she was shouting for help, calling out to any beasts she could find. I huddled on the ground, shifting back to the song of distraction. But it was too late to hide; everyone knew we were here. Cascades of colors and shapes streamed toward us from all sides. Ryder jumped to his feet to shield me, desperately firing arrows from his crossbow. But he quickly used them up, and whatever Alastrina was shouting wasn’t enough. I saw no animals running to our rescue, no jay wings cutting through the air.

I closed my eyes, pouring every bit of strength I still had into my song. Maybe I could change it yet again, sing a song not of simple distraction but ofdefense.Or maybe I could somehow hold all three songs in my head at once and infuse my voice with three instructions—distraction, defense, clarity. But as soon as I tried to make that shift, a wave of sickness rushed up my body. I fell to my hands and knees, fighting not to retch. What I was trying to do couldn’t be done—not by me, at least, or perhaps simply notyet.

Then, all at once, everything around us disappeared: our glittering attackers, the flowering streets of Mhorghast, the great shadowed palace looming over it all. The world turned bright and white andcold, so brilliant and overwhelming that it sucked the breath right out of me, and my song died in my throat. The air shimmered, holding me still, humming its own eerie melody. I couldn’t move; I could hardlythink.

Suddenly I felt a hand on my arm—not Ryder’s hand but someone else’s. The grip was strong and cold, the skin hard and smooth as polished stone. I squinted up into the glare and saw a face that was both strange and familiar to me—Philippa, golden-eyed, sharp-toothed, resplendent in platinum armor. She wore a necklace of gilded bones around her pale swan’s neck, and her long, loam-dark hair glittered with dozens of topaz jewels.

The sight of her turned me as cold as her grip on my arm. Any sliver of doubt that remained inside me regarding the truth of her claims shriveled up and blew away like ash on the wind. This was not simply Philippa. This was Kerezen, goddess of the senses and the body. Kerezen, reborn.

Somehow I found enough of a voice to rasp their names. “Ryder. Alastrina.”

“Of course I have them,” Philippa responded, her voice booming and bold as brass. It rang through my every bone, made my teeth chatter. “But I can bring no more with us. What a fool you were to come here. My brave little bird.”

A memory fell softly into my mind.Your music, little bird, will give the gods new life.

Then she bent to kiss my forehead. I expected a frigid touch, but in fact her lips were scorching and turned me limp and pliant in her arms. The white world grew whiter still, and all sound fell away, including my own pounding heartbeat. Then I knew nothing more.

Chapter 24

Angry voices woke me, all of them muffled, garbled, as if I were underwater listening to the world above spin on without me. I came to slowly, struggling to find my fingers, my toes, my limbs. I listened for my pulse, heard the in and out of my breath. I ached, and my mouth was parched, but I was alive.

When I cracked open my eyes at last, I saw a ceiling overhead— elaborate white molding, a painted pastoral scene, Ivyhill’s ever-present glossy green vines. Vines my mother had made.

Mother. Philippa.

Kerezen.

Suddenly, everything I’d seen in Mhorghast came rushing back to me in a torrent of fear. I bolted upright and immediately regretted it; a sharp pain stabbed my temples, the worst headache I’d ever felt. For an instant, my vision went black, then returned fuzzily, a shimmering aura softening every edge and brightening every color. I caught my breath and realized I was on a couch in the morning room, with Gemma beside me. Across the plush green-and-ivory rug was another couch, on which Talan reclined, looking wan and sweaty but at least a little healthier than when I’d last seen him.

“Ryder?” I croaked, struggling to look around the room. Even with Gemma’s help, the effort was monumental. “Alastrina?”

“They’re both here and alive,” Gemma said quietly. My bleary vision made her glow like some dream creature. Her golden hair cascaded over her shoulder, bound with a silk ribbon; her dressing gown fell around her in emerald velvet folds. I gaped at her, marveling. I gripped her hand hard and leaned gratefully into her slim, sturdy form.

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