keenly we await the sound of your treasured voice.”
The Princess inclined her head before pausing and turning to Sherin and Vaelin. The smile had changed now, becoming something far more sombre, but the impish light in her eyes remained, although Vaelin saw how they glistened with budding tears.
“Tell my dear friend the young wanderer,” she said in perfect Realm Tongue, “that he was right. The time for the old ones has gone. We must make way for the new.”
She returned her gaze to the kneeling audience, all faces now upturned in grave expectation. The Jade Princess took a breath and began to sing.
Vaelin thought the first note perhaps the purest and sweetest sound he had ever heard. It was pitched high but not piercing, possessed of a sense of command he knew could only come from the Dark. This was a song no ear could be closed to, as addictive and captivating as the most potent drug. Further notes followed, each as pure and compelling as the first, and each seeming to sink into his mind. The world changed as the song continued, the varied hues of the tent’s interior becoming more vibrant whilst edges blurred and extraneous detail slipped away. The faces remained, however, like masks floating in a radiant fog, all the supplicants to the Darkblade wearing the same expression of utter rapture he knew must colour his own.
As the song continued, he realised it had lyrics, but the language was unknown, perhaps unknowable. Ancient words sung by an ancient being, but although he could never know their meaning, the song left no room for doubt as to their intent. Every note sank deeper into his mind, cutting through fears and memories like a surgeon’s blade through muscle and sinew. The song was like a hunter, tracking down the events of his life and bringing them forth in vivid, often unwelcome detail, and each was accompanied by a question. Why? the song asked as it showed him the outlaw hanging in Ultin’s Gulch, legs twitching as the effluent of death dripped to the ground.
The law, he answered, then winced as the song’s answer overwhelmed his own.
Anger, it told him, summoning Dahrena’s dead face, the chill of her forehead against his. The truth cut him, forcing a cry from his lips. He had spent years harrying outlaws and any others who aroused his ire, killing where he could and sparing only where he had to. Not for the queen, not for the Reaches, just to sate his own rage.
The song grew louder and more memories burst forth, collapsing into each other in a fearsome collage of image and feeling. There was joy in this maelstrom, brief flares of light in the red and blackness of it all.
Why? it asked as Reva arose from the storm, that first night in the forest when she had attacked him. He watched their dance again, seeing her blade slice and jab at the air as he refused to do what the Cumbraelin priests so wanted of him.
My song’s guidance, he replied. And she needed me.
The answer this time was less painful, but just as contradictory: You were lonely.
On it went, his every self-deceit revealed and dismissed. Some were obvious, petty self-delusion to guard his pride, others unveiling lies that had become part of him, necessary shields to preserve his sanity. Pain blossomed as they were wrenched away, leaving him reeling in confusion.
Why? it demanded once more, the whirlwind slowing to coalesce into Sherin’s face, the drugged, unconscious face from all those years ago when he placed her in Ahm Lin’s arms.
Various answers flitted through his head. I had no choice . . . The Ally had to be stopped . . . Prophecy . . . Duty . . . Destiny . . . All lies. The pain diminished as he summoned the resolve to give a truthful answer.
Fear, he told the song of the Jade Princess. She would never have known peace with me. However far we travelled, whatever corner of the world we hid in, war would always find me, and in time she would hate me for it. I feared her hate.
The pain dwindled away then, leaving him staggering. The fog had dissipated to reveal the Darkblade’s followers, all still captured by the Princess’s song. From the stricken look on every face it seemed the effect was universal. All their lies were being stripped away, leaving only truth. Truth is the enemy of faith. She didn’t come to sing to