What kind of fool am I that I think random stories in old books and scrolls can have anything to offer in real life? I could have gotten Kaelen killed, and Andras may be dead, and Elianna’s magic doesn’t work, and I don’t know what to do.
I don’t know what to do.
I don’t—
I clench my hands so hard I feel my fingernails dig into my palms, but the physical pain stops the crushing wave of doubt.
No.
No.
Idoknow what to do. Because if I stop believing in my hard-earned knowledge now, all my hope for the rest of this journey will drain away like the water in the palace baths.
I’mnota nobody.
“I’m sorry for this,” I whisper. “I know my voice is terrible.”
But it’s too late to worry about trivial details like that. I throw back my head, take a huge breath, and belt out the first line of the only lullaby I know.
Little one, little one, you must wait for the sun.
And then, when all four draugrs turn their attention to me, I keep going.
Why the crying? Why the sadness?
What has made your peace undone?
Little one, little one, you’re the light of my eye.
May you settle into slumber
Until the sun is in the sky.
I sing as loudly as I can, as in tune as I can, picturing my mother singing this song to me when I was tiny, safe, and warm in my blankets next to her. I try to infuse the words with all the love and sincerity she sang with, and desperately hope that my heart is pure enough and my song true enough that whatever magic a simple lullaby carries will spread over the draugrs and soothe their spirits.
Soothe their restlessness.
Let them lie in peace.
Miraculously—unbelievably—it’s working.
It’sworking.
In shock, I fumble the words but pick the song back up as smoothly as I can after I see the largest draugr’s eyes squint into angry lines.
May you settle into slumber
Until the sun is in the sky.
“Soli. You’re doing it,” Kaelen says, his voice so quiet I almost don’t hear him. He slowly and silently walks over to crouch next to Andras. I’m afraid to watch—afraid to see that the Sylvan lord is dead.
But Kaelen puts an arm around Andras’s shoulders and helps him to stand. The two of them make their way to the wagon, Kaelen bearing much of the other man’s weight, both walking slowly and never taking their eyes off the draugrs.
I’m still singing, afraid to stop. By the fifth time I repeat the verse, the draugrs sink to the floor, first sitting, watching me, and then lying down, their eyes fluttering closed, then open, then closed again.
It’s working, but I don’t know how long it will last.
Kaelen hands Andras up to Trick on the wagon seat and tells him something my friend clearly doesn’t like. Trick scowls but protects the Sylvan, sword in one hand and dagger in the other. Kaelen runs back to me and puts his arms around me to pull me back against his chest.
