Song of Blood & Stone (Earthsinger Chronicles #1)(32)

“No, go ahead,” she said, handing it off, unable to take her eyes off a face she never thought she’d see again.




She didn’t know how long she stood there, staring blindly, but the approach of more army-brown vehicles, a bus, and several trucks brought her back to the present. Soldiers rounded up the refugees and settlers, and directed them toward the bus.

“They wish us to sleep at the Eastern Base tonight,” she overheard a settler telling the others. “The Sisterhood has set up a place for the refugees near Rosira. We will travel there tomorrow.”

The settlers grumbled among themselves about whether or not to leave, in the end deciding to accompany the women and children and ensure their safety. Jasminda too was torn. Home beckoned, but curiosity and anger warred within her. Only metres away stood a blood relative, one she’d never met and who’d shown no interest in her. And in Rosira, lived her mother’s mother. A woman Jasminda had begged for help when she’d been left alone at seventeen. This was her chance to get answers. To meet her grandmother, look in her eye, and ask how she could be so callous to her own kin, how she could ignore her daughter and granddaughter for years.

Jasminda was tired of being ignored and being looked at with scorn and derision. She wanted both of these women to know who she was, to know what kind of man her father had been, how strong and smart her brothers had been. She would stand up and give a reckoning of her family. It was the least she could do for their memories.

Jasminda scanned the area. The Sisters were packing their supplies back into their wagon. There was still some small chance this Sister wasn’t her aunt, and even if she was, if she approached now, Vanesse may warn her grandmother and she’d never get the chance to confront the woman as her heart now demanded. Jasminda would wait for the right moment.

A soldier waved Jasminda toward the queue forming to board the bus. Staying meant she was little more than a settler or refugee. She searched the area for Jack but he was nowhere to be found. An emptiness took hold inside her, but she stepped onto the bus warily when it was her turn. A clean break was best, wasn't it? The engine thundered to life, and she chose an open seat at the back. Just before the driver closed the doors, Jack slipped aboard, his brow furrowed.

She held her breath as his gaze searched the seats until he found her. “What are you doing?”

She searched for words, but her mouth was too dry to speak.

He moved down the aisle toward her and extended his arm. “Come.” Her hand found his of its own accord. She could not control her longing for his touch, for his nearness. No matter how hard she tried to ignore it, her hand in his caused a riot of sensation to shoot through her entire body. The fact that he'd sought her out dissolved the emptiness. Perhaps she needn't make a clean break after all. Perhaps Jack could help. She took his proffered hand, allowing him to lead her off the bus and over to the group of men standing near the other vehicles.

“Captain,” he said, though he pitched his voice loud enough for all the soldiers to hear. “This woman is a citizen, born in Elsira, and shall be treated as such. She is not a refugee.”

The man before him stood at attention. “Yes, sir. I apologize, sir. I did not realize.”

Jack nodded once, then led Jasminda to an armored truck, helping her into the rear seat. She darted a glance back to the bus.

“Are we going to the base, as well?” she asked.

He leaned his forehead against the doorframe and sighed heavily. “Yes.” His whole demeanor had changed. Gone were even the hints of the man she’d once confused for an artist. He was all warrior now . . . and a weary one.

“You are in charge of these men?” She didn't know much about military ranks, but High Commander sounded awfully important.

“Yes,” he said simply.

Her heart grew heavy. Though he stood next to her, suddenly he seemed very far away. “You are very young.”

“I started early. Practically at birth. And my family is very… well connected.” There was no pride in his voice.

“The men respect you. It isn’t false regard in their eyes. You must be very good.”

He shrugged and looked away as though uncomfortable with this topic of conversation. She changed tacks.

“What happened earlier? You seemed distressed. Is it the breach?”

He looked over his shoulder. The captain and another man stood nearby. Jack switched to Lagrimari. “No, but I will tell you later.”

She eyed the other soldiers and nodded.

“Later then,” she said, placing a hand on his. Gasping at the thoughtless familiarity, she immediately tried to pull her hand back, but he kept hold and squeezed her fingers before letting go. His eyes crinkled in a tired smile, then he turned and walked off.

Voices carried from the other side of the truck. “Looks like the commander has himself a new pet.”

Someone snorted. “A grol bitch to fetch the paper and eat the table scraps.”

The soldiers cackled, their voices fading as they walked away. She clenched her hand into a fist and settled back against the truck’s hard seat.




The thin, army-issued cot was almost comfortable. After arriving at the base, Jasminda had been given a space in a corner of a small supply building where she could sleep. The Lagrimari had been assigned a barracks building for the night, but Jack insisted she be kept separate. She appreciated his efforts to continually remind his men of her citizenship, but she felt uneasy alone in a strange place. Jack had showed her the space and then been called away again. She’d sat there for the past half hour reading the various labels on the boxes and listening to the sounds of the base beyond the walls.