Volinette's Song (25 page)

Read Volinette's Song Online

Authors: Martin Hengst

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Teen & Young Adult, #Coming of Age

BOOK: Volinette's Song
7.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Every demon that got near the portal was lashed by whips of pure light, torn asunder by the same forces that had destroyed the monster that Halsie had become. The Masters turned on
the others, destroying them with what magic they had left after dedicating nearly all their resources to the Prism.

At long last, the searching light reached the center of the vortex of darkness. It blossomed like a firework, reaching out and touching everything in its path. The shield around the Academy collapsed and living air
rushed through the grounds, fresh, with just a hint of fish and sea.

Her long struggle over, Volinette let the last note fade away. There was silence. Somewhere, in the distance, she heard a chime singing in the wind.

It was the last thing she heard.

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Five

 

 

Volinette woke to the sound of splashing water. Everything ached. Even her hair was sore. It felt as if someone had stuffed her in a barrel and rolled her down a long and rocky hill. There wasn’t a single muscle in her body that didn’t protest. She tried to wiggle her toes and found that they, too, were painful to move. She groaned. At least if she hurt, that meant she was alive.

“Ah, good, she awakens.”

The voice was soft and gentle, and somehow familiar. Volinette had heard it before, she was certain. A moment later, she was sighing with relief as a cool cloth was laid across her forehead. Fingers, cool and still damp from wringing out the cloth, traced the curve of Volinette’s neck and felt for the lifebeat there. Volinette tried to ignore the shock that coursed through her at the touch, but she couldn’t help but whimper. It was like a hundred needles being pressed into tender flesh at once.

She opened her eyes, but saw nothing. Panic flashed through her. She tried to raise a hand to see if she could see it in front of her face, but the smooth hands of her caretaker forced her to lie still.

“Rest easy, Volinette. We didn’t want to risk damaging your eyes. There’s a bandage there. A moment of patience, and I’ll remove it and we’ll see how you are recovering.”

“Who are you?” Volinette asked meekly. She couldn’t place the woman’s voice no matter how hard she tried
, and at least knowing who was with her would stem some of the fear.

“Qadira, from the infirmary.”

“The elf,” Volinette blurted without tact of any kind. She blushed. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, dear girl. It’s true enough. Besides, a certain amount of leeway is always accorded to heroes and heroines.”

“Who’s a hero?”

“You are.” Qadira’s voice was light and musical, like the chiming voice of the
Sphere. “You should prepare yourself for fame, if not fortune.”

“I’m going to kill Baris when I can see again.”

“I’m afraid that Apprentice Jendrek had little to do with the rumors. They were mostly perpetuated by the Head Master, Olin Oldwell, and the Chief Archivist.”

“Oh, only them, then?” Volinette tried to sound nonchalant, but her voice broke. Her head swam. What had she missed? “How long was I asleep?”

“You’ve been unconscious for three days. Sleep is somewhat inaccurate. You’ve been suffering from a prolonged bout of overextension. Your body needed time to recover from that rather astounding piece of spellcraft you performed.”

“It wasn’t me.”

“Yes, so I’ve been told.” Qadira chuckled. “Baris is quite incensed that you won’t take credit for your unique set of skills.”

“It really isn’t me,” Volinette protested. “I’m just a…a…
,” She faltered.
She
didn’t even understand it. How could she expect anyone else to understand?

Volinette felt Qadira’s weight on the edge of the bed. The elf’s fingers moved behind her head, loosening the gauzy bandage. W
ith each layer of bandage she removed, the room got lighter and lighter. Eventually, Volinette could see the single candle that burned on the table beside the bed, and the blonde elf with the amethyst eyes who was looking at her inquisitively.

“Any spots in your vision? Any strange lights or patterns?” Qadira asked, her slender fingers blocking most of the light from Volinette’s eyes.

“No.”

“Good”
The cleric lowered her hand, her eyes scanned Volinette’s face before she continued. “It seems that you’re over the worst of it. As for the other part of our discussion…my people have a word:
cinzaret.
Literally translated into your tongue, it means conduit…but it’s so much more than that. Conduit is a cold word. It’s a utilitarian thing.

“Cinzaret is the beauty of the
Sphere itself, channeled through a willing soul. But it isn’t merely transference. The soul molds the power of the Sphere, imprints upon it, and makes it unique. While it may be true that you’re not doing anything
consciously
to influence the powers of the Ethereal Realm that flow through you, I assure you that you
are
doing something.

“You listen to the words the
Sphere sings to you and then you make them your own. Magic is subtle and wondrous, tone and inflection matter. You’ve been chosen to sing for the Quintessential Sphere. Do you think anyone else could sing in exactly the same way, with the same notes and inflection that you do?”

Volinette turned that over in her mind, like tumbling a smooth rock between her hands. She’d always been told that she had to try harder. That to be a good singer, she needed to be more like her sisters or more like her brother. Sing this note just so
. Hold this phrase this long. It had never occurred to her that the Quintessential Sphere had chosen her because she was the perfect conduit, no, the perfect
cinzaret
for the living memory that resided in the Ethereal Realm.

“I never thought of it that way,” she finally said, a wide smile curving her lips. “I guess I
can
do something right.”

“The Eternals work in mysterious ways,” Qadira said solemnly. “We mere mortals can only guess at their intentions, but I suspect that their hands are at play in the skills you’ve come to exhibit.” The elf was quiet for a moment, looking so deeply into Volinette’s eyes that she started to squirm with discomfort. Qadira laid a hand on top of hers, link-shock dancing between them. Even so, the contact settled Volinette. There was nothing to fear from this woman. She was an emissary of the light. Volinette could feel it. “Just be careful which voices you choose to hear, Volinette. There are those whose intentions can’t been seen until light is shown into the darkest crevices of their soul. That goes for beings of this mortal plane, and those beyond.”

“I will,” Volinette promised, though she doubted that too many beings beyond their plane would be interested in a singer turned Quintessentialist.

Qadira cocked her head to the side, then stood and smoothed down her white frock. “You have a visitor. I’ll leave you now, but I’ll be back to check on you later.”

The elf glided from the room as if she weren’t touching the floor. Volinette envied her grace and poise. She wondered if she’d ever be that comfortable in her own skin, or if it was a trait that was part of the elven state of being. Qadira seemed to know exactly what she was meant for and whom she needed to be. Volinette would have killed for a cheat sheet to answer just one of those questions. She sighed. There was time enough for that, she supposed. Her grandfather had always told her that wisdom came unexpected, when you needed it the most. She guessed she’d just have to wait.

The pale green curtain over the cubicle door was brushed aside and Janessa slipped inside. Her long blond
e hair was pulled back in a braid. The circles under her eyes were gone, as was the redness. She smiled at Volinette as she entered, making her sharp features much less severe. Janessa was a girl who was prettier when she smiled, Volinette decided, and it was nice to see her doing so. Especially after so much anger and hatred had nearly destroyed the girl.

“How are you feeling?” Janessa asked solicitously, pulling a stool over beside the bed and plopping down on it so hard that the wood creaked.

“Like I got beaten up by a giant,” Volinette groaned, then laughed. “But I guess it’s better than the alternative, right?”

“Absolutely.”

Janessa glanced up at the high slit window in the little cubicle. Her gaze was fixed somewhere beyond the infirmary, probably beyond the edges of Blackbeach. They sat in silence for a long while before she spoke again.

“I wanted to thank you, Volinette. I hope I can do it right. Gratitude isn’t something that comes easily to my family. It isn’t something we’re taught. You gave me a second chance when no one else would. Not even my parents. They were furious when the Head Master brought them in. Disappointed that I would reflect badly on them. That I’d cause problems for them.

“I think that’s all I’ve been to anyone in a long time…a problem. You saw something more than that. Something that I couldn’t even see. Something I hadn’t seen for a long time. Between that and sitting in that cell, I had a lot of time to think. So I wanted to say thank you.”

Volinette stared at the girl. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe her. Janessa was the picture of sincerity. The earnestness in her voice would take a master stage player to pull off, and frankly, Volinette didn’t think Janessa was that talented. It was just the oddness of the admission that set her off balance. Janessa’s pale skin took on a deep flush and she looked at her feet.

“Please, say something. You don’t have to accept my apology, but say anything.”

“You’re welcome? That sound
s so pompous and ungracious.” Volinette sighed. “Can’t we just be friends? Or try it? See how it goes?”

When Janessa looked up, Volinette saw the sparkle of tears in her eyes.

“You’d want to be friends? After everything I’ve put you through?”

Volinette smiled.

“Second chances, right? Besides, it wasn’t
entirely
your fault. You did some pretty awful things, don’t get me wrong, but you were mourning, and grief does strange things to people.” Volinette paused, not sure if she wanted to say the rest of what was running through her head. She decided to go on with it. If they were going to be friends, Janessa needed to hear everything. There wasn’t any point in trying to spare her feelings or coddle her. “I’m sorry about Tenika. I really am…but there wasn’t anything I could do to save her. You’re right when you say that I thought of myself first…but that was just the way things played out. There wasn’t anything I could do.”

Tears welled in Janessa’s eyes and slipped silently down her cheeks. She brushed them away with the back of her hands and nodded.

“I know. I was so angry with myself for not being there for her. For not being able to protect her. It was easier to put it on you than to deal with the fact that I failed her. We’d practiced it for so long. We
needed
to get in. We lost sight of everything else.”

“Well,” Volinette said, blustering through the discomfort of the moment. “From now on
, you can talk to me about the things that make you feel bad. So there’s that.”

Janessa smiled. “I’d like that.”

There was a crash from the hallway outside the cubicle. It sounded like someone had taken an entire tray of metal pans and shoved them to the floor. There was a muted argument, then the curtain was shoved aside as Baris burst into the room. He looked from Volinette to Janessa and back again.

“You’re awake!”

“I am. Who did you knock over to get in here?” Volinette asked wryly.

“Just an orderly…and he shouldn’t have been skulking about behind the corner where I couldn’t see him. How are you feeling?”

“Getting better by the minute,” Volinette replied, giving Janessa a little smile. Baris looked at the girl and quickly looked away, busying himself with finding threads out of place at the foot of Volinette’s blanket.

“Don’t tell me that you two are still at each other’s throats?” Volinette asked him when he finally looked up.

Baris shifted from one foot to the other and then looked skyward, as if somehow the Eternals could help him. Finding no rescue there, he looked at his shoes and mumbled something.

“What?” Volinette asked, and watched as the color crept off the young man’s cheeks and raced to the tips of his ears.

“I said,” he grunted, “that she’s alright.”

“Baris has been very dutiful to you, Volinette
,” Janessa said with an impish grin. “He’s come to see me every day to make sure that I knew how you were doing and if there were any changes.”

Janessa winked at her, and Volinette knew that her condition wasn’t the only reason Baris had been going to see the tall, pretty blond
e. Volinette grinned back. She wouldn’t have bet all the money in Dragonfell that Baris would find himself infatuated with Janessa Navita. She shook her head and laughed. The Eternals moved in mysterious ways, indeed.

“What are you laughing at?” Baris demanded.

“Nothing. It’s just funny how things work out in the end.”

Sudden silence descended over the room as the curtain was parted yet again and a lanky figure with dishwater brown hair stepped into the room. The temperature seemed to drop by ten degrees, and a shudder went up Volinette’s spine.

Adamon was dressed in a simple brown tunic and breeches, his black traveling cloak cascading down his back like a shroud. The wide leather belt on which his hand cannon hung was slung low over his hip, laden with the weight of the weapon and its accessories. His gazed pierced each of them in turn, lingering longest on Volinette, before he addressed them all as one.

“I’m glad the three of you are together. It saves me the time of tracking you down individually. There are charges against you to be answered for. Theft.” He eyed Janessa. “Unlawful entrance to private quarters.” His gaze slid to Baris, who looked at the floor. “And countermanding the direct orders of a Master.” His eyes were on Volinette now. “Among others both numerous and sundry. You will appear before the Head Master tomorrow morning at nine. Do not keep me, or her, waiting.”

Other books

The Hunt by Allison Brennan
In Amazonia by Raffles, Hugh
Sister Mischief by Laura Goode
The Pale Criminal by Philip Kerr
A Few Good Men by Sarah A. Hoyt
A Year in Provence by Peter Mayle
Queen of Kings by Maria Dahvana Headley