Her father had told her of his wish to unite the kingdoms ever since the first time she’d plucked her harp. “You were born to make this journey, to unite the people of Ebonvale with the House of Song, to succeed where I have failed.”
Where he’d failed. He’d loved Danika Rubystone, now Queen Thoridian, and might still, which was why he didn’t accompany Valoria to the castle. Her father had lost Danika’s hand to her own bodyguard and never fully recovered, even after he’d married mother and Valoria was born. Mother had lived in a shadow of love compared to the stunning ruler of Ebonvale.
Now Danika Thoridian would be her mother-in-law. How she could ever forgive the woman who’d stolen her father’s heart and thrown it away, Valoria didn’t know.
Her father’s half-hearted love had killed her mother. Would her own predestined union end the same tragic way? Would she wither and die with a lackluster love?
No. She was made from stronger stuff. Her mother completed her duty by having Valoria, and Valoria would complete her duty by uniting the kingdoms.
She glanced at Cadence’s embroidery. That rose had too much sun. How could a woman pluck that stem without gouging her fingers?
The trumpets stuttered, and the fanfare broke into disharmony.
“Are we there already?” Cadence slipped on her boots.
“Not unless our horses can fly.” Ebonvale was a day’s ride from where her father had seen them off at the edge of the bluewood forest. Yet, the sun hadn’t reached its zenith in the sky. Besides, the minstrels wouldn’t end the royal processional fanfare in such a haphazard muddle.
Valoria cranked her window open and stuck out her head, not caring a wyvern’s scale about what Echo would say. An arrow flew past her nose, hitting the lead rider in the back with a sick, wet thump. His trumpet fell from his fingers, and he slouched forward in the saddle as a red ribbon of blood flowed from his silvery overcoat. Another arrow clanged off the glass of the window beside her and fell to the ground.
Cadence yanked her away from the window. “Lyric’s lyre! Get back!”
Shock numbed her silent as they crouched on the carriage floor in between the velvet cushions. Was it the dead army, come back to claim vengeance against King Artemis while he lay in his grave and his heart-stealing daughter ruled? The thought of dead fingers grasping her arms and legs sent shivers all over her. She’d rather die than end up as part of that soulless horde.
If only she had her harp. A low hum reverberated in the pit of her stomach as the minstrels began their Song of Power. They’d used it against the wyvern She-Beast and her brood, casting the entire horde into a comatose state. Her eyes grew heavy, and Cadence shook her. “Cover your ears. Do not harken to it.”
Even though the minstrels aimed their song at the enemy, the side effects were powerful enough to knock her out. Valoria fought against the urge to lie down, focusing on the carriage window. Corpses didn’t fight with arrows. They lunged in a squirming mass, clacking their rotten teeth.
Cadence poked her head up. “Raiders! Those desperate bastards.”
At least if they died, they wouldn’t turn into the enemy. Valoria’s relief came with a dose of shame. Raiders were just as dangerous. “Are you certain they aren’t the undead?”
“They look ragged enough, but they are not rotting.”
Valoria rose to the window and Cadence held her down. “No. You are too important.”
Was this woman a handmaiden or a bodyguard? “I want to help.”
The carriage stopped, and Cadence fell back against the seat. They froze. After hours of bumping around, the stillness numbed Valoria’s legs.
Cadence’s eyes grew wide as swords clashed beside the carriage window. “Why in Horred’s name have we stopped?”
Valoria stood up, gained her bearings, and glanced out the window. Two minstrels lay face down in the long grasses of the meadow. “Either Echo and the others are too busy fighting, or the horses are all dead.”
Lackluster love might kill her over time, but she did not plan to die this day. “We have to get out of here. I must get my harp.”
Cadence clasped her arm like a vice. “You are not going anywhere.”
She ripped her arm out of her grasp. “Yes, I am. And I’m not leaving you. Come on!”
Valoria unhinged the latch and opened the carriage door to the sounds of grunting men and clashing steel. Echo fought two ragged raiders with his short sword. Ratty brown hair covered their heads and faces in a wild tangle. Haphazard scraps from old leather, stained fur, and muddied cotton made up their clothing. The wind changed direction, and the raiders’ filth wafted to Valoria. She covered her mouth from the stink of old sweat and mold.
Echo lunged, pulling off the cloth covering one of the wild man’s ears. The man fell to his knees, grasping at the side of his head as his ear bled a red streak down his cheek to his neck. The Song of Power hummed around the battlefield like a giant tuning fork hit with a sledgehammer. Raiders poured from the long grasses like field rats, circling the carriage and what was left of the retinue. Each one had cloth stuffed up their ears. In time, their numbers would overrun the minstrels.
At least she’d go down playing her harp one last time.
As Echo turned to the second man, Valoria climbed the side of the carriage. Her harp glowed golden in the sun, exactly where she’d left it. Relief poured through her as she untied the first knot holding the instrument down.
Cadence grabbed her ankle and tugged. “Come back inside before an arrow spears your thick head!”
The second knot had hardened in the sun. Her nails broke against the cord. “Help me untie it.”
Cadence sighed in exasperation. “You are the worst ward I’ve ever had.”
As her handmaiden climbed the side of the carriage, a new fanfare broke from the horizon. This music lacked the deft touch of the minstrels’ hands. The rough tone and horrid intonation would summon only scowls from the enemy. No one from the House of Song would be caught dead playing with such coarseness.
A line of silver caught her eye as the Royal Guard crested the hill.
“Look!” Cadence joined her on the carriage roof. “The banners have the insignia of the two swords. ’Tis Braxten Thoridian’s army.”
“And their awful horn blowers.” Army or not, Valoria untied the last knot holding down her harp. She swung the instrument from the carriage roof and landed on her feet. Closing her eyes, she strummed a mysterious chord full of dissonance. She did not have the power to bring the raiders to their feet like Echo’s haunting tenor voice, but she could elicit the doubt inside their desperate hearts.
She knew the taste of desperation.
The Royal Guard rode into battle at full speed, trampling the outside line of raiders with their horses. As they fought to reach the minstrels, Valoria focused on her music, stringing together chord after chord of unresolved harmonies. Some of the cloths weren’t enough to block the sound, and a few raiders fell to their feet before they reached the retinue. But, most of them charged with vengeance, wielding pitchforks, broken glass, and whatever they found on the side of the road.
Another arrow ripped by Valoria’s face, and she fell back against the carriage. “Lyric’s lyre! ’Tis not working.”
“You have to find something that does, or we’ll all be joining the gods.” Cadence reached in her boot and pulled out a dagger.
Valoria stared at Sill. The dead lands tempted her even though father had warned her of manipulating nature with song. Music could control a person, but it could only entice a force of nature to do its own bidding. Nature had its own way of deciding people’s