Effusion of Hardiness: Reinforces sturdy good health and robustness of body.
Two parts wolf fungus, one part jade bite, and three drams of salamander ink. Excessive yawning and a loss of taste may occur in some cases. The recipient should avoid ingesting fish or sea fowl for at least three moons.
—WISDOM OF THE FOLK
Mooriah stood with her hands pressed against the red surface of the cornerstone caldera, searching for something—anything—within.
“What are you hoping to find?”
She startled at Fenix’s voice behind her and spun around. “I’m not sure.” She shook her head. “It’s foolish.”
He tilted his head, those eyes peering deep inside her. “I doubt that.”
“Both of my parents were powerful Earthsingers—but my Song calls to death instead. Shouldn’t there be something of them inside of me?”
He frowned then looked up at the obelisk’s great height. “Unfortunately, that’s not how it works. Would you rather be an Earthsinger?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes. It would be easier for Father. I wouldn’t have been sent away.” The pain of the admission settled across her fiercely. She knew that Yllis had done it to save her life, but still…
“Do you enjoy living inside those dreary caverns?”
“They’re not dreary,” she protested. “They’re beautiful. I wish you could see them as I do. Each wall is embedded with generations of history going back to the very beginning of the mountain. You can walk for days and learn the tales of people who lived long before you. And the firerocks illuminate the patterns hidden in the stone, they tell their own story in images—you just have to know what you’re looking for. The Mother is truly wondrous.”
She smiled, thinking of her home. “There are gardens with plants that only bloom under the firerocks, with flowers more colorful and impressive than anything above ground, I’m sure of it. And the lakes—all around the city there are lakes, places where you can go and meditate and be at peace.”
“And swim?” His brows were raised, and his mouth quirked in a smile. That was what he had focused on?
“Well, yes, you can swim.” She frowned.
“That, at least, sounds like fun.” A grin ate up his face, and she sighed.
Fenix seemed good natured, but he also lacked the ability to take anything seriously. His constant smirk was beginning to grate her nerves. “We had better get back to work. I’d like to finish today, if possible.”
He sucked in a deep breath of frigid air. “Helping your father is a great deal easier than what I was sent here to do. Observe the people, make reports, take a census. Boring.” He rolled his eyes.
She stiffened. “But that’s the assignment you signed up for, isn’t it? Don’t your people need the reports?”
He shrugged. “Need is a strong word. They desire them, but they’ll just send someone else along if I don’t complete the job. I only took this on because I wanted to travel. And I had old debts to repay. But what they don’t know won’t hurt them. I’d much rather be here with you.” His smile was bright and charming, enhanced perhaps by his natural glow which he no longer bothered to dampen.
Looking at him was almost painful—he was beautiful, to be sure, and so different to anyone else she’d ever met. But his carefree nature and indifference to duty rubbed her the wrong way.
“Well, the faster you’re done here, the faster you can leave and continue your travels,” she said.
“Oh, but I like it here.”
“On the top of this cold mountain?” She raised her brows.
“There are very pleasing things to look at.”
Mooriah turned away, flushing at the compliment he obviously intended. “Well, I need to finish. So I can go back.”
She had brought a large pot with her today and used it to combine the ingredients for the spell she was working on. Blood magic could, of course, be done without all the additional elements stored in her satchel, blood and intent were all that were needed, but generations of shamans had come up with formulas to focus and amplify the spells. The ingredients, properly used, brought a level of refinement to the magic, which it did not have on its own.
She’d added star root for longevity, featherblade to measure a person’s heart, salt bronze as a calming agent for those who would trigger the spell. She was finally doing something she’d been longing to for her whole apprenticeship—creating a new spell. Putting her years of studying to the test was oddly gratifying, and it somewhat made up for the fact that her father was just as distant as ever.
An hour ago, he’d pronounced his Song drained and had gone off to his campsite nearby to rest. An Earthsinger’s power needed to regenerate after heavy usage. Mooriah wasn’t sure if hers did as well or if she’d just never used her Song for long enough to exhaust it.
She’d tried telling Yllis about her spell, explaining how novel and original it was. But he’d just smiled absently and given the verbal equivalent of a pat on the head. She willed herself to not let it bother her. Later, when she returned to Night Snow, she would tell Murmur and he would be appropriately impressed.
As her thoughts veered back to her working of blood magic, Fenix interrupted again. “Pretty lighting and calm lakes can’t be the only reason you stay locked away down there. They have all that and more out here.”
She shook her head, focusing on her work—the mixture had to be right or it would not work as intended. “It’s my home. I like it there.”
“Even though the people barely accept you. They consider you an Outsider, isn’t that right?”
She pursed her lips. “For now. But once I’m initiated into the clan, things will change.”
“Just like that?” She looked up to find his gaze intense. For once, the smirk gone from his lips. “Do you truly think you’ll ever be one of them? That they’ll ever really accept you for who you are?”
That gave her pause. But the other unclanned who had become full members enjoyed all the rights and privileges that every other Night Snow member did. No cutting remarks or stares. That would be her too, she was sure of it.
“I realize that you were eager to leave your home, Fenix, but not everyone is like you.”
He shrugged. “Home is tedious. You should come with me and explore. See what this world has to offer.”
She grit her teeth. “Have you forgotten why my father brought me there in the first place? My Song is dangerous to those not warded against it.”
He scoffed and her temper rose at the sound. He wasn’t listening to her. Not only was he irresponsible, he was self-centered.
He opened his mouth to reply and then froze, tilting his head. Then he jumped to his feet. “Your father is in trouble.”
“What?” She leapt up as well.
“Follow me.”
They raced down the trail leading to the plateau where Yllis had set up his camp. He had not yet had enough time for his Song to restore itself. If there was some danger, he would not be able to defend himself.
Fenix raced ahead of her and stopped. She reached his side and her heart froze. Yllis stood with his back to them as a mountain lion prowled just a dozen steps away. It was a male, and the biggest one she’d ever seen, easily twice her father’s weight. Cool green eyes never left Yllis’s still form.
A long dagger lay on the ground just out of her father’s reach. The cat paused, sniffing, then bent its forelegs and haunches, settling into a pounce position, its gaze narrowing.
Mooriah clenched her fist and reached for her Song. Her power arrowed around her father and settled on the cat—a strong and healthy specimen with little Nethersong to latch onto. Little, but enough. With pinpoint accuracy, she multiplied the Nether, increasing the death energy until it spread throughout the creature’s entire body.
“Mooriah, no!” she vaguely heard her father say, but it was too late. She manipulated the energy of the animal until it seized and fell over, its large green pupils filling with black.
When it was done, she released her Song and breathed heavily. Unlike when she practiced within the Mother, she now felt exhilarated by the use of her power. The exhaustion that had chased her for the past months as she studied for longer and worked harder, melted away. It was as if she was always supposed to use this ability.
But her father and Fenix both rushed to kneel beside the mountain lion. Yllis turned back to her. “What did you do?”
She blinked in confusion. “I saved your life. What do you mean?”
He sighed deeply, looking down, his hand on the animal’s hide. “To take a life is a great burden, Mooriah. Even an animal’s life.”
She crossed her arms. “Do you not hunt for food?”
“Is that what you were doing?”
Disbelief made her blink rapidly. “You would have rather I let it attack you? Let it maul you to death?”
He shook his head and her frustration grew. Was she supposed to feel bad for protecting him? She took a step backward, pain filling her—not for what she did, but for how her father was reacting to her. His gaze was wary as he stared up at her.
“You’ve never seen me use my power before,” she whispered. “Is that it?” Oh, he always asked how her control was progressing on his rare visits, but in all her years he’d never actually witnessed it. “Is it as awful as you imagined?”
“You should not use it in such a way.”
Anger spiked. “So it’s all right when I use it to help you, but any other usage is off limits?”
“I don’t want you to become…” He searched for a word but couldn’t find it. “I don’t want you to live with regrets about what you’ve done.”
She was speechless with rage and pain. Fenix’s eyes were closed, his hands on the cougar’s fur. They began to glow even brighter than anything she’d seen from him before. In a moment, the animal was breathing again, softly.
“It’s asleep,” he said, brushing off his palms and sitting back on his haunches. “We should move it away from your camp.”
“You can bring life back to the dead?” Her voice was low and a little fearful.
He nodded gravely and stood. “The newly dead, at least.”
“You are far more powerful than an Earthsinger,” Yllis said, appearing thoughtful.
“My power overlaps in some ways but is different.” He looked at Mooriah, some question in his eyes that she didn’t have time to parse.
A weight had settled on her chest and was crushing her air. Stealing her ability to breathe. She could not help the power that she had been born with. She could not help her skin or her skill or her parentage. And even her father could not accept what she was.
She spun around and started back up the path.
“Mooriah!” Fenix called.
“Let her go,” Yllis said.
Tears welled in her eyes, and she did not turn around.