Elizabeth Haydon - Prophecy - Child of Earth

Relief broke over Rhapsody’s face in the form of a heart-stealing smile. A moment later, she looked thoughtful. “Well, I’m very glad to hear it. Do you want to hear the rest of the story?”

“If you want to tell me.”

“It gets easier from here. After a few years, a kind man took an interest in me; an older man. He seemed as interested in my mind as he was in, well, other things; probably more, really. He set me up in my own house, and encouraged my desire to learn. He made sure I had the very finest instruction in music, and art, and other scholarly pursuits.”

“All the things you told me you wanted to do that night in Merryfield.”

“Yes. He set me up with the greatest Lirin Namer in all of Serendair, a man named Heiles, to learn the ancient arts, but not long after I had finished my training as a Singer and was just about to achieve Namer status, Heiles disappeared. To my knowledge he was never found. I was close to fully trained by then. I had to study on my own for about a year. I was just beginning to figure out the science of Naming when my benefactor died.

“Soon after that, a beast who had taken a fancy to me sent one of his henchmen after me, to collect me for some private entertainment. I refused. I was rather brash about it, and it turned out to be a serious mistake. And things became, well, let’s just say the situation was pretty ugly when I ran into Achmed and Grunthor. They rescued me and helped me escape. They were on the run themselves, and together we got out of Easton and made for Sagia; do you know of it?”

Ashe thought for a moment. “Yes, the Oak of Deep Roots. It was a root-twin to the Great White Tree.”

“Yes. The Axis Mundi, the line through the center of the earth, runs along that root as well. We went in through Sagia—I’m still not exactly sure how—and crawled along the Root, forever it seems. That’s when we changed, absorbing the powers of the Earth, of Fire, of Time. We passed through a great wall of flame at what must have been the center. I believe we actually were immolated, but the song of our essence went on, reforming us on the other side when our bodies burned away. And all the old scars, all the old wounds, were gone.” Gently Ashe stroked her wrist with his thumb, the place that had once borne the scar he remembered so vividly. “We were made new; that’s why when you met me your dragon sense thought I was a virgin.”

“That’s not why. I told you long ago why.”

She kissed his cheek and slid out of his arms, sitting beside him on the sofa again. “The trip seemed like it would never end. It must have taken centuries, because when finally we came out we were here, and everything, everyone we had known had vanished ages before into the sea. In fact, everyone I had loved was probably gone long before that; I didn’t know how many generations had passed before the Cymrians set sail, how many it had been since they arrived. “So, I suppose Anwyn didn’t really lie to you. We didn’t land; we never did set foot on any of the Cymrian ships, we never sailed. We left before those generations were born, we arrived long after the war. So, in fact, her answer to you was truthful.”

Ashe laughed bitterly, and stared into the fire. “Technically, anyway. But Anwyn knew, Emily. She knew that you had left, that you were on your way, crawling along the Root. She chose to keep it hidden; instead all she said was that you hadn’t arrived, that you never set foot on the ships that left the old world in time. It was like dying then, Aria. She watched me dissolve into anguish beyond measure, and she just stood there silently. This is my grandmother, Rhapsody, my own grandmother. Do you think my happiness, my sanity, means anything to her?”

He looked back at her. The sympathy in her eyes went straight to his heart, bringing with it warmth and consolation. “I guess not, Sam; I’m sorry,” she said, resting her hand lightly on his face. “Do you have any idea why? Why would she do this?”

“Power. Power over me. They are all like that; Anwyn, my father, all of them. Now can you understand why I don’t care a fig for the lot of them? Why I’m willing, even now, to turn my back on them, to give you back the memory? You are the only person who has ever really cared about me, despite my illustrious lineage, the only person who ever really loved me. I owe you everything; I owe them nothing. Yet you always seem to end up with the chaff while they get the wheat.”

Rhapsody laughed, and leaned her head back against his shoulder as he put his arm around her. “What interesting imagery. Now, which of us is the farm child? Wheat is only good if you need food, Sam. Chaff works very well to make a soft bed. Generally we spend more time there than at the table, anyway.” Her eyes sparkled humorously, and he laughed with her, hugging her tighter. “And chaff makes a tremendous bonfire. Don’t discount the value of chaff, Sam. It will be our turn for bread eventually.”

Ashe sighed deeply and stroked her hair. They watched the fire for a long time, curled around each other in comfortable familiarity, as the flames changed colors, twisting in a quiet dance. Finally, he spoke. “I have a question.”

“Oh, good. So do I.”

“You first.”

“No, go ahead.”

“All right,” he said, enjoying the banality of their exchange, “why did you start calling yourself Rhapsody?”

She laughed. “Nana thought my real name was too ordinary. It was prim-sounding, not a good name for, well, for my new line of work.”

“Emily is a beautiful name.”

“

“Emily’ is only an abbreviation of my real name. It’s actually my nickname.” Interest brightened Ashe’s face. “Really? I didn’t know that. What is your real name?”

Rhapsody turned red, and she looked away, although her eyes still smiled. “Come on,” he cajoled, grabbing her around the waist, laughing as she squirmed away. “You’re going to marry me; I should at least get to know what your real name is. Gods, you know every permutation of mine.”

“I don’t know why you call yourself Ashe.”

“Because ‘Gwydion’ would get me killed. Stop stalling. What is it?”

“Be careful, Sam,” she said seriously. “A name is very powerful. My old name has never been spoken in this world. When that happens it should be in a special ceremony, something that will surround it with power, so it won’t be vulnerable to the old world demons. Like a wedding, for instance.”

He nodded, his playfulness subsiding. Rhapsody sensed his mood shift, and she climbed back into his lap.

“But,” she said, eyes sparkling with mischief, “if I told it to you in pieces , it probably would be all right.”

“Only if—”

“

“Rhapsody’ really is my middle name,” she interrupted before he could finish. “My mother was a skysinger; her name was Allegra.”

“Beautiful.”

“It would be a good name for a daughter, wouldn’t it?”

He smiled at her tenderly. “Yes; yes it would.”

“Anyway, my father named me after his mother, and Mama was not thrilled with the name. She thought it was staid and boring. I know because she told me once, in front of the fire, when we were alone, brushing my hair. She wanted to name me something Lirin, something with music in it, because she believed it would give me a musical soul.”

“She was a wise woman.”

“So that’s where ‘Rhapsody’ came from. Besides being a musical term, it denotes unpredictability, and passion, and wild romance. She hoped those things would counteract my first name.”

He kissed her forehead. “It suits you perfectly.”

“Thank you—I think.”

“So,” he said, wicked mirth in his own eyes, “what was your grandmother’s name?”