Are you coming into this story in the middle? Start from the beginning of Book 2, or scan the Table of Contents (coming soon). You don’t need to read the first book to enjoy this new adventure, but you can find the beginning of Book 1 here.
Five days. Five days of nothing.
Leito has been patient with me for these five days, but how long can that continue? I’ve felt nothing in those five days, no hint, no spark, no tingle. He’s taught me chords and how to position my fingers. He’s taught me how to hear the notes and recognize them. I can make sounds more pleasant than a yowling alley cat, but there’s been no sign of the magic that’s supposedly within me.
I stare up at the ceiling, not wanting to get up.
I can’t face another day of disappointment, the worst part being Leito’s unfailing patience. His words are always kind, but when his patience finally gives out, how kind will those words be? Will today be that day?
I pull the blanket up to my nose.
Mieklo jumps up onto my chest. He chitters softly. It’s a comforting noise. I run a hand over his soft fur, and he presses his head into it, like a cat. He won’t make me get up just yet. He’s happy with just the two of us for now.
My goal when we set out from Northend and the smoldering remnants of the library that had been our home was to get Mieklo here to Phiur and its library. Xichus are most in their element in an old, dusty library, where they feed on parchment and the positive feelings of people reading and telling stories.
I thought that was what Mieklo needed. I thought it was what I needed. Neither of us had known a life different than that.
Then I met Jilli and Baize and Rent and Hax. They rescued me from despair and uncertainty, and they escorted Mieklo and me to Phiur. It had been a rough couple of weeks—attacked by monsters at every turn, facing down death daily—and the greatest adventure of my life. I even remembered the erebus attack on Phiur with a fond pride. It wasn't as scary with it behind me, and I had not run away. I had stood my ground and fought beside my new friends.
My family, as Hax had named them the other day.
I don’t know much about what family means. My own family sold me to the librarians in Northend at age eight. I hadn’t been able to pull my weight at home, and so they had sent me away. That was what I had learned about family from them. You’re worthy of love only as long as you’re useful.
But Rent and the others had changed that.
Family meant laughing together. Family meant protecting each other. Family meant never giving up.
Why can’t I convince myself of that this morning? I tell myself Leito won’t be mad, even if I am a failure at learning magic, but it falls flat. I tell myself Rent and the others won’t disown me for not becoming a bard, but my brain won’t believe it.
A knock on the door interrupts my deep thoughts. Oh no. It’s time to start the day.
I tuck Mieklo into one arm and sit up, each limb moving separately, slow like molasses in winter. “I’m coming,” I say, but it comes out as a hoarse croak.
When I open the door, Rent is standing there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed in a very Hax-like posture.
“Good morning. We were missing you at breakfast. Are you feeling okay?”
I nod. It tugs at a lock of my hair as Mieklo tries to tame my unruly bedhead. “I’ll be down in just a minute.”
Rent turns away but hesitates and turns back. He looks like he’ll say more, but then he only says, “Okay.” I can hear his steps as they grow fainter down the staircase, the worn wood creaking.
I scold myself. I should be more honest with him.
I try to throw on a clean shirt as Mieklo continues to run his tiny fingers through my hair to untangle it. It doesn’t work. I have to coax him off my shoulders before I succeed. Then he’s right back to work. The feel of his tiny hands stroking my hair calms me.
Downstairs, my porridge is cold. I only eat a little, because my stomach is a roiling tidepool in the center of me. I join a little in the table’s small talk, but mostly I study my porridge. Soon, the remainder of my appetite leaves me. I push the bowl away, and the barmaid takes it away a moment later.
Back upstairs, I sit myself on the corner of the bed, and I dread the next few hours.
Leito stands in the center of the room, studying me as he taps his chin with one finger. “Why don’t we try something different today?”
“Different?”
“First thing…” He trails off as he bends to retrieve an unfamiliar instrument from the floor. I am so absorbed in my thoughts I didn’t even notice it. It’s smaller than Leito’s lute. The neck is straight instead of bent, and there are fewer strings.
“Where’s your lute?”
“Right here, don’t you worry.” He gestures vaguely but brings my attention back to the instrument in his hands. “This is a mandolin. It’s a bit simpler than the lute. Some are even simpler than this one, with fewer strings, but I still want you to have enough complexity to change the intent of your spells by varying degrees.”
I blink. My confusion must be plain on my face, because Leito laughs.
“Oh, we haven’t talked about that yet. That’s a few steps ahead. First, we’ll focus on your own instrument and stirring the magic within you.” He places the mandolin in my hands. “I want you to keep that with you, when you eat, when you sleep. A bard and her instrument should be as one. Like a warrior’s blade becoming an extension of their arm, this will be an extension of your will.”
My stomach curdles. “Leito, you shouldn’t have. I’m not even making any progress—”
“Psh!” he interjects in good humor. “Strum the mandolin for me before you object.”
That is one thing I’ve learned to do. Strum.
I trail my fingers lightly across the strings, and immediately I’m struck by their lightness and the ease of touch it takes to make them play a soft note. The sound brings a smile to my face, and the stone of anxiety in my stomach finally eases.
The second note resonates, not deep in the mandolin’s body like with the lute, but within me, like someone plucked a string in my chest. I feel the note echo like a ripple on a pond.
The mandolin feels different, from the size of its body down to the placement of its strings, but my fingers find their way easier. The notes come from my fingers effortlessly, and I feel something within me echo their call.
Several breaths or several minutes later, I realize Leito is clapping and dancing in the middle of the room.
My fingers stutter to a stop. I press the mandolin strings to quiet them. “Oh, sorry.”
“Sorry? Sorry? Don’t be sorry!” He grabs my hand and pulls me off the bed, spinning me around until I’m dizzy. “Don’t ever apologize for feeling the music, Lo!”
Is that what that was? “Did I make magic?” I ask, trying to keep on my feet as we spin.
“You did, you did, and it was beautiful!”
There’s no way to resist the levels of joy Leito exudes.
“But how could I make magic without knowing it?” I ask, my stomach starting to protest all of the spinning.
Leito brings us to an abrupt stop. My head keeps spinning until it catches up to us. “I told you before that the magic is within you. You just had to coax it out. Now.” He raises a finger. “Now, we can teach you to shape it.”
My breath comes quickly, both from the unexpected dancing and from my realization of what he’s saying.
Mieklo squeaks, mirroring my excitement.
I look at my hands. They look normal. I check the rest of myself, everything seems the same. No sign of the magic Leito claims was there a moment ago.
I clutch the mandolin closer to me as I sit back down on the bed. With a powerful strum of the strings, I make a confident C chord that thrums in my chest. I look all over, the mandolin, my hands, the bed, the space between Leito and me, but I don’t see any magic.
“You haven’t told the magic what to do yet,” Leito explains to my confusion. “You need to shape it, mold it.”
“Like clay or something?”
“Yes, sort of, but don’t let that visual distract you. Instead, focus on me.”
I can only stare at him for a few breaths before my face gets warm and I have to look away. “Should I play some chords?”
“Yes, yes, sorry.” He chuckled to himself. “I thought the mandolin might be more fitting for you, but I didn’t expect you’d take to it so quickly. I have forgotten myself.” His pleasant smile widens. “Focus on me, and start to play. Play whatever feels right. Use the handful of chords you know.”
That’s all he explains. Just play and focus on him. What then?
I take a deep breath and follow his instructions. One chord turns into a dozen. I keep to the G, C, D chords of our early lessons, because I don’t want to look at my hands. I watch Leito and I can’t help but study him.
He smiles his easy smile, crinkling the skin at the corner of his eyes. I’m about to avert my gaze when I notice a shimmery halo around him. It’s like light, misty rain catching the light, and it ripples with a pale rainbow of color.
Somehow, my fingers keep playing.
The rainbow halo pulses to the notes, shimmering brighter, then fading to almost nothing. I play faster, and the pulsing intensifies, brighter and faster with the music flowing out of the mandolin and me. For a moment, I think I can see the flow of the music, leaving my fingers and swirling to condense around Leito.
Leito has resumed his dancing. The rainbow halo follows him as easily as my eyes. The shimmering veil grows as I continue to play, until it’s a pulsing rainbow filling the room.
But the bubble of magic pops.
I gasp and my palm stops the notes coming from the mandolin. My head spins as it suddenly seems I’m not getting enough air. I draw deep breaths, but they make the room spin faster, like when Leito had spun me around.
Then he catches me and taps my face. He hums a few notes, and a wave of warmth ripples through me. When I focus on him, he looks relieved. “Let’s not overdo it on the first day, eh?”
Previous Part ~*~ Table of Contents ~*~ Next Part
Curious to peek behind the curtain? Effy also posts about her writing process and worldbuilding on Building the World of Dadreon.
Effy J. Roan is a writer of dark and epic fantasy. She loves dragons, dogs, and endless worldbuilding. She creates monsters and researches cultures and food for her fiction. You can find her on Facebook and Instagram.
If you’d like to continue this journey, enter your email below to receive future posts directly to your inbox.
If you enjoyed this post, please share it.