Song of Resurrection
The rumbling subsided like an earthquake lulled to sleep. The faint flickering of their last torch cast shadows on a pile of boulders blocking the entrance to their crevice. Coughing, Nip pulled away and staggered to his feet. Dust covered his small body from head to toe, camouflaging him against the sand and stone. He climbed the pile of rocks and pushed debris from the top. “There’s a hole! We can squeeze through.”
“Are you all right?” Valorian’s hands ran up and down her arms.
Danika nodded, pulling away. How could she seek comfort in Valorian’s arms while Bron’s fate remained unknown? She gathered the torch and followed Nip’s steps, climbing the pile of rubble. “Bron?”
“We’ll check for him.” Valorian’s voice lacked hope, leaving Danika with a gaping hole in her heart.
Refusing to give up, she pulled herself through Nip’s hole and slid down the other side.
Half the cavern, including the tunnel where they’d come from, had caved in. The hydra’s head lay lifeless, protruding from a pile of stones with Bron’s sword still stuck in the jaws. Black blood seeped from its mouth, coagulating on the cavern floor. Danika stuck the torch in between two rocks to keep the flame upright. She pulled Bron’s claymore from the spindly teeth, the blade almost too heavy for her to lift, and dragged the tip behind her, looking for any trace of its owner. The rice cart lay unscathed, as if Bron had shoved the wheels to safety in a last attempt to further their cause.
She didn’t care about the rice. What had she done? She’d ordered him to his death and he followed her dutifully.
“Bron?” Her voice rose as if she called him all the way from the throne room in Ebonvale. “Bron!”
She dropped the sword and started to dig, pulling large stones from the pile and shattering them on the cavern floor. Dirt, beetles, tree roots and worms fell on top of her and she brushed them off. Her fingers dug around a stone the size of a horse’s belly. She yanked, tearing her nails and ripping the skin of her palms. Nip joined her, both of them using all their weight, but the stone wouldn’t budge. A hundred more that size and larger had fallen on top of the heap.
Danika beat the rock with her fist. “Son of a wyvern hunter!” She collapsed to the ground, her body convulsing with sobs.
Valorian’s gentle hand squeezed her shoulder. “Princess.”
She looked away. “I’m not leaving him.”
“Think of the others in Ebonvale. Of Nip. We have to continue on to trade.”
“No.” Danika whirled around and clutched his shirt with both hands. The fabric bunched in her fingers. “You have to do something.”
Valorian shook his head, his eyes full of shame. He glanced at the pile of rocks behind them as if she’d asked him to move the whole world. “’Tis beyond my capabilities.”
“Nonsense.” She leaned in, her lips a breath away. She had no idea what he could do, if anything. Desperation drove her to the brink of madness. He was the only person she could turn to. “You’re the Prince of the House of Song. Legends have been made of the resourcefulness of minstrels and the power of their song.”
His gaze lowered to her chin. “I cannot.”
She moved her head closer to lock eyes with him and wrapped her fingers around his upper arms. “I refuse to leave without knowing what happened. If there’s any chance he’s still… Please, Valorian. Do it for me.”
His eyes were silver pools of hope. He relaxed into her touch. “I’ll try.”
She placed her head on his chest, finally finding comfort in his arms. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” He pulled her against him, breathing in the scent of her hair as he nuzzled his nose against her cheek.
Danika backed away. This was hardly the time for romance. “Do your best.”
“I always play my best.” He slipped his lute from his back to his arms and strummed a harsh, dissonant chord sounding more like a random tangle of notes. “This has never been done before. Not by me or any other minstrel. Cover your ears.”
Danika stood back, pulling Nip away from the minstrel. She placed Nip’s hands over his ears, then blocked hers. Through her palms and the beating of her own heart, a low growling hum resonated deep within Valorian’s throat. The primal drone stirred acid in her gut. His voice rang more like a warning than a song, and the rocks reverberated around them, struck like tuning forks to the vibrations of sound. He strummed so hard, drips of blood leaked down the wood of his lute to the cavern floor.
The rubble shook, and a few rocks shattered, flinging dust and pebbles at their faces. Danika turned her back, shielding Nip with her body. She shouted at his hand-covered ear. “Close your eyes.”
More rocks shattered, pelting debris at her back. Danika huddled with Nip, still covering her ears and wondered just what she’d asked the minstrel to accomplish. Explosions erupted behind her, and she squeezed her eyes shut, afraid slivers of stone would embed in her pupils, blinding her. The onslaught lasted for several minutes, until she held her breath and released it again. Valorian’s voice trailed off into a howl, and the blasts stopped.
Danika turned around and opened her eyes, squinting against the dust. Valorian lay on his back, unconscious. Slivers of stone had cut gashes in his face, and the tips of his fingers were red with blood. The strings on his lute had broken and curled. Beyond him, a hand protruded from a mound of dirt, thick fingers with callouses so large it could only be Bron’s.
Danika ran to the mound and pushed the dirt off. Bron’s face surfaced, his eyes closed. “Bron!” She slapped his cheek. No response. “Bron, wake up.”
Nip took the warrior’s hand and held the palm to his heart. Tears rolled down the boy’s face, muddying the dust on his cheeks.
Had she lost them both? Too greedy to leave one behind?
“No!” Danika pounded on his chest. “No, you cannot leave me.”
Bron sucked in a gasping breath and stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. “My lady?”
Danika laughed and cried at the same time, laying her head on his chest. “You’re alive.”
He sat up and brushed the dirt from his arms. “Why shouldn’t I be?”
“The hydra.” Nip pointed to the dead head. “It caved the ceiling in. You were covered in rubble.”
“Yes. I seem to remember something of the sort.” Bron rubbed his head. “It would explain the pain behind my eyes and the reason my throat is full of dirt.”
Bron met the princess’ gaze, as if seeing her for the first time in years. “How did you find me?”
“Valorian. He saved your life.”
Nip tugged on her arm, and they turned to the minstrel, still lying unconscious in the dust.
“Helena’s Heaven!” Danika ran to his side, pained with guilt. How quickly she’d forgotten him. He’d risked his life and his lute for her. She pressed her fingers to his neck. A faint pulse answered her pleas.
Danika dabbed at his bloodied cheeks. “Help me lift him.”
Nip scurried behind and helped Danika prop him against a boulder. His eyelids flickered and his gaze rested beyond Danika, to Bron. “You’re alive.” His usually melodic voice was wispy and hoarse.
“Thanks to you.” Bron offered his hand and pulled Valorian up. “My apologies, Minstrel. I’ve underestimated your power and your heart. I owe you a life debt.”
“You don’t owe me anything.” Valorian bent and picked up his lute. He inspected the broken strings with skeptical eyes. “I did it because the princess asked me to.”
Danika avoided Bron’s gaze. What would he think of her now? Using another man’s love to keep him alive? She’d had no choice.
“Which makes you a better man than I’d initially thought.” Bron clapped him on the back as Danika bandaged Valorian’s fingers. “Someone the princess can rely on and trust.”
Danika listened to their conversation carefully as she tied the scraps of fabric in knots around Valorian’s knuckles. Did this mean Bron would think Valorian worthy of her hand? She had no idea how to digest that thought.
“You saved our lives by fighting that beast.” Valorian leveled his eyes with Bron’s. “Which makes you a braver man than I’d initially thought.”
“So we’re even then?” Bron stepped forward, offering his hand once again, this time for a truce.
“Even as the horizon on a clear day.” Valorian took Bron’s hand and they shook, a gesture Danika never thought would happen. Unease stirred in her stomach. She’d become used to them fighting over her, and suddenly she felt outnumbered.