Song of Blood & Stone (Earthsinger Chronicles #1)(24)

“Why do you think they’ve really come?” Jasminda whispered. Jack lay with an arm behind his head. In the dim light, she could barely make out his profile.

“The women and children likely are seeking a better life.”

Jasminda sighed. “I guess better is relative.”

“But the Keepers,” he said, shaking his head slightly. “Whatever their true purpose, at least we have the same goal. I hope we will be able to fight against the True Father together.”

Jack’s hope and determination were fueling him. He had something to fight for.

All she had now were ashes where a whole life used to be.

She closed her eyes and stopped just short of praying not to wake up again.




Jack’s arms were wrapped around something warm and soft. As he opened his eyes, any hint of drowsiness fled as a spark tickled behind his ribs. Jasminda lay curled on her side, her back pressed against his chest. Her head was tucked just under his chin, and his heart sped as he watched the rise and fall of her gentle breaths.

He brushed her hair back, letting his fingers get caught in its tangled softness. Her scent was enticing, soothing, and he lay for a moment breathing it in. Once again, thoughts inappropriate to their current situation stole into his mind. The curve of her buttocks grazed his groin, and he inched backward so as not to scandalize her with his growing erection. The floor of a cave was a location even more devoid of romance than the army barracks, and yet he had a hard time reining in his mind.

Light footsteps echoed outside the cave entrance. He removed an arm from around Jasminda and palmed the pistol he’d left within easy reach, keeping it down by his side. Though he had trusted Darvyn, he could not be completely certain that these enemies of his enemy were, in fact, his friends. Especially not when the Lagrimari they’d met yesterday were Keepers in more ways than one. They may be followers of the Queen and wish to see her promise of return kept, but they held secrets, as well.

Lantern light brightened the entrance as a curly head appeared—a head much lower than he’d expected. Osar stood gripping the lantern shakily. Jack released his weapon. The boy’s huge eyes glittered, and he beckoned Jack forward with one hand.

“Jasminda.” He shook her gently, not letting go of her shoulder as she rolled over and stretched. “We have a visitor.” He nodded in the child’s direction, and Jasminda sat up yawning.

Osar motioned again for them to follow before disappearing down the hall. They gathered their things and joined the others in the larger cave. The fire had been put out, lanterns had been lit, and most people were packed and ready to go. The armed Keepers and elders stood in the center, and Gerda’s quiet tones carried over Rozyl’s hard voice and wild gesticulations.

“I know that was the plan, but it’s just not possible now,” Rozyl said.

Gerda shook her head. “We follow the course. That is what we agreed on.”

“That was before we discovered no one can sing in these blasted caves.”

“What’s going on?” Jack asked.

Rozyl rolled her eyes but, surprisingly, answered him. “I sent out scouts to determine the way through this maze of tunnels, but not one of us can use Earthsong in here. For some reason, the mountain seems to be blocking us.”

Jasminda came up next to him, a frown marring her face. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Of course it doesn’t. And it also makes no sense to travel down a tunnel we can’t feel or see the ending of. We could be lost inside this mountain for years if we take the wrong track. We must wait out the storm and take the path up top.”

“No.” Gerda’s voice was calm but her expression immobile.

“The instructions were clear,” Turwig said. The old man would not meet Jack’s eye, and he wondered if Turwig blamed him for whatever may have happened to Darvyn. “We must go through.”

“And how do you suppose we do that?” Rozyl asked.

“Try again,” said Turwig.

Rozyl’s face twisted, and she pushed past them, deliberately knocking into Jasminda. She wobbled but caught herself by slamming her palms on a knee-high boulder jutting out of the ground.

“Watch yourself,” Jack bit out to Rozyl’s retreating back. The woman grumbled out what must have been a Lagrimari curse he hadn’t heard before. He turned to Jasminda as she righted herself and brushed off her hands.

A fissure marred the polished surface of the boulder. It had sliced her palm, embedding a sliver of rock in her skin. Jack grabbed her hand to inspect the damage.

“It’s nothing,” she said, pulling away. His arm felt heavy, his hand strangely empty as she refused his help. But it was nothing. The bruise on her cheek was far worse, and she hadn’t even complained about it or bothered to heal it.

He clenched his fists and forced his feet to stay rooted, to not follow after the unpleasant Rozyl and give her a piece of his mind. He’d expected to see a mirror of his emotions in Jasminda. The murderous expression she'd had the night before as they’d disparaged her father had made Jack oddly proud of her. But now, her skin was ashen and she looked haunted.

“Wh-what happens when you try to sing?” Her voice was weak, breathy and light, not the full-bodied, sensual tone he’d grown used to in just these few days. Concern furrowed his brow.

Turwig spoke up. “They say their Song calls out but nothing’s there to answer it. Like the world has disappeared. Try it yourself if you like, child.”