Song of Blood & Stone (Earthsinger Chronicles #1)(53)

Turwig, Lyngar, and the guards from the cave were among the cautious faces looking back at her. Gerda cleared her throat. “We are all here. Let us begin.”

“I want to be sure that my objections are noted,” Rozyl said. A few murmurs of assent rose in the close space. “I don’t trust her—”

“We’ve taken your concerns under consideration, thank you,” Turwig said, cutting her off. She pursed her lips and sat back. “But the decision has been made.”

“What is this about?” Jasminda asked. Her question was lost amid the rising voices, some echoing Rozyl’s concerns, others supporting Turwig. Each gibe and sentiment of distrust sliced into Jasminda like a knife. She stood, and silence descended.

“What is this about?” she repeated, forcing her voice to be strong when it threatened to quiver.

“Sit, please,” Turwig said. He watched her closely, and she did as he’d asked, glad that the exit was so close. The desire to bolt, to get away from all the suspicion was strong, but curiosity begged she hear the old man out.

Turwig shared a glance with Gerda, then reached into the inner pocket of his threadbare jacket and pulled out a small bundle wrapped in cloth. He touched the bundle reverently then reached for Jasminda’s hand and placed it in her grasp.

A deep, pulsing energy came from within the bundle. She nearly dropped it. Every person in the tent grew tense. “What is this?” she whispered.

“Open it,” Turwig said.

Jasminda shook her head as her hand trembled. “I can barely stand to hold it. What is it?” Her stomach lurched as her breakfast threatened to come up. Whatever was inside this cloth was wrong somehow. Too powerful. It was like Earthsong had been trapped within a package that fit in her palm. “Take it back.”

“Open it,” Gerda repeated gently. Jasminda didn’t think the elders would give her something dangerous. On the contrary, every face staring back at her seemed expectant, almost hopeful. Even Rozyl’s. That cemented her decision. Tears pricked the backs of her eyes, and she blinked rapidly to stay them. With a deep breath, she peeled away the layers of cloth.

Nestled inside was a stone, deep red in color and small enough that she could wrap her entire hand around it. It was smooth, though oddly shaped, like a gemstone had been sanded down to remove all its jagged edges. She held it up to her face, keeping the cloth between her skin and the stone, peering at the thing. Nearby, someone lit a lamp, bringing the stone into clearer view. Embedded within it were dark, swirling lines. Perhaps this was the fossil of an insect. She’d read about such things, though had never seen one before, but as the light brightened, it illuminated lines trapped inside which were too organized for a skeleton. A symbol was embedded beneath the surface. Recognition dawned, and she nearly dropped the stone a second time.

“It’s the sigil of the Queen,” she said. Everyone in the tent took a collective breath. With her other hand, she reached out a finger to trace the surface. A ripple of power went through her as her skin met the stone. It knocked her backward as blackness stole her vision.




We run through the woods laughing. Yllis’s fingers are intertwined with mine, and when he looks over, the love in his eyes makes my breath catch. My heart is so full.

Eero is behind us, thundering through the underbrush. I don’t have to turn to sense my brother tripping over a root that Yllis and I had jumped over. It would be funny to let him fall, but it’s not his fault he has no Song and cannot feel the forest around him the way we do. In the blink of an eye, I sing a spell to lift him back upright and set him on his feet. He stumbles a bit but rights himself, his emotions confused for a moment, before refocusing on the competition.

We clear the tree line, and Eero races ahead, beating us to the water’s edge. He dives underneath and swims out a little ways, shouting, berating us for our slowness. Yllis and I splash into the waves, soaking each other, and I think this is the happiest I’ve ever been. The two people I care most for in this world are here, and it is the most beautiful day I could have dreamed.

Yllis said he would not let it rain on Eero’s and my birthday, and he did not. I shall bring the clouds back myself tomorrow to keep things in balance, but for today, watching the smiles on his and Eero’s faces as the sun shines down on us is the best present ever.

I wish . . .




Jasminda opened her eyes and winced at the burning sensation in her palm. Her empty palm. She sat up, and the people who had been leaning over her prone form quickly moved out of the way.

Clarity came back quickly. The tent, the elders, the stone . . . which had disappeared from her hand. She looked over quickly to see Turwig wrapping it up again. She rubbed her face as the chatter of a dozen voices quieted.

“It happened again,” she said. There was no surprise on Turwig’s and Gerda’s faces. “You knew that would happen.”

“We suspected, but were not sure,” Gerda said.

“It was like in the cave.”

Gerda nodded. “But not the Cavefolk this time.” It wasn’t a question. “Can you tell us what you saw?”

Jasminda related the brief vision she’d had. Once again she’d been someone else. Someone deliriously in love. She hadn’t gotten a clear view of the brother, but she’d stared into the eyes her lover, a man who was both a stranger and the object of all her adoration. The visions were all encompassing, and it took a moment to adjust to being torn away and inhabiting her own body again. Whoever that girl was had been lucky.