beneath them. He looked haggard, as if he’d gone many nights without proper rest. He took a deep breath. “I came for you.”
All the breath left her body. She tensed, childish hopes living entire lives within her.
“I need your help.”
She struggled to keep the disappointment at bay. Of course he had not come to take her away with him, to be a real father. She was far too old for that anyway—she was a woman grown. What need did she have for a father? Ember’s gaze upon her was like a physical touch, but she kept her attention on her father’s face. His skin was so like hers. Familiar, but foreign.
“You need my help with what?” she croaked out.
“The Mantle separates the two lands and has paused the conflict between the Earthsingers and the Silent—those with magic and those without. This is true. It protects us from one another, but in the east, on the side with the Singers, there is still strife. The fighting has changed, it’s now more clandestine. The man who caused the war, who calls himself the True Father, has an uncontrollable lust for power. He steals it from the people, draining their Songs and taking them for himself. The Mantle keeps him trapped, locked in a land full of Earthsingers who fall victim to him.”
Misery suffused his face. “There are those in the east who oppose him and who are willing to fight. I am helping them, but the True Father has begun looking for ways to destroy the Mantle and unleash himself upon the world. The barrier is strong but could be stronger. I have been endeavoring to reinforce it at its most vulnerable point, its cornerstone, but the working requires something I do not have.”
Understanding dawned and Mooriah’s eyes widened. “Nethersong?”
He nodded, grave. “Yes, daughter. I know the strife of the Outside means little to you all down here. The Folk exist beyond the complications of what we go through, but this is still important. The True Father is trapped in a web of his own making, but I fear what it would mean if he were freed to roam the world with his stolen Songs. It could very well impact the Folk.”
“But how could Nethersong help?”
“I have long studied ways to combine the magics. We have successfully mixed Earthsong and blood magic and caused it to do things impossible with just one or the other. I have discovered that adding Nethersong can be quite potent. It can help form an additional layer of protection, one which I hope will not be necessary—my goal is still to defeat him—but I want to ensure there is a failsafe.”
Mooriah chewed on her lip. “I will help if I can.”
“It must not interfere with her studies,” Oval spoke up. “When you brought her to us all those years ago, it was for good reason. We accepted her on certain conditions.”
Mooriah bristled, her face growing hot.
“It is vital for her to master control of her Song, for the good of all, I know,” Yllis replied evenly. “This task will only aid in her study. It will give her hands-on application, not mere practice.”
Murmur swayed in his seat, eyes closed. His breathing was shaky, like it was when he received a vision. After a moment, he held up a hand and opened his eyes. “Something is coming, but I cannot see it yet.” He sighed heavily. “It will come in its time, but your father is right. Your control is admirable, but you must better understand the use of your Song.”
Oval huffed. “True, but that work is of a lifetime. She has also made a commitment to her apprenticeship that cannot be shirked.”
“I’m quite certain I can do both, Exemplar.”
His heavy-lidded eyes displayed some skepticism, but he merely nodded. “See that you do, else your position will be forfeited.” Along with her hopes of becoming a clan member.
She should tell her father no, reject him the way he had always rejected her, but she could not bring herself to do it. Silently cursing her weakness, she grit her teeth.
Murmur peered at Yllis and stroked his chin. “Your work on the Mantle’s cornerstone, would it benefit from the help of another Earthsinger?”
Yllis frowned. “Certainly, but none can cross the Mantle save me. All the others are locked in the east.”
“Not all,” Murmur said, looking at Oval significantly.
The elder shaman shook his head. “You speak of the Outsider? He has desecrated the Mother and must be punished.”