The Songbird

Chapter 7: The Search

"He thinks she might be a Favor-Born. I've got my doubts, but it's not my place to say no."

The portcullis they stood beside began to rattle and groan, lifting its teeth from the ground and giving them access to the rest of Enid.

"Time to go," Dante sighed, and they mounted their respective horses that had been tied nearby. As he slid into the saddle strapped to his grey stallion, he silently prayed that they wouldn't return empty handed.

He wasn't sure he could bear what Abbott would do to him if they did.

* * * * * * *

When Mina saw The Joiner's Square, she silently accepted that this would be the day Lorenzo killed her.

Some of the debris had been swept into piles, but most still lay scattered about. There were maybe three dancers and two musicians performing for coins, but she could count on one hand the amount of Blue Alley dwellers in the area who would give out money.

She'd be lucky if she received anything at all.

As she made he way over to stand atop the ruined fountain, the bright sun overhead did nothing to alleviate her despair. She'd found nothing in the jewel caves this morning despite tearing her fingers to pieces in search of stones. Worse yet, the blackened ends of her red cloth had fallen off when she'd tried washing the fabric in the Stonehue River. Gentle as she'd been, Mina could do little more than watch as the pieces disintegrated to ash in the water.

Her cloth was no different from anyone else's now.

It's still theirs, too, Mina tried reminding herself. You haven't lost the pieces of your parents.

It was little in the way of comfort, but it was all she had.

Placing her tin cup at the fountain's base, Mina stood on the ledge and took a deep breath, staring out at the sea of ruin peppered with an occasional person who paid her no attention. She closed her eyes and imagined herself standing on the brink of a real sea, pretending the slight breeze held the scent of ocean spray that kissed along her face.

Look at me, she silently begged those around her without opening her eyes.

Hear me, please.

She opened her mouth and began to sing.

* * * * * * *

"Do you hear that?" Samuel asked Izan as they strode through the relatively empty streets, far off in an isolated corner of the Blue Alley.

"Hear what? Have you got something?"

"Sounds like singing."

Izan couldn't hear anything of the sort, not that that surprised him. With Sam's magic, he could hear the stutter in the heartbeat of a liar, the beating of a bird's wing, the rhythm of breath being drawn.

"Is it anti-King singing?" Izan teased.

"No," he admitted. "But it's pretty."

The other night laughed lightly before nudging Sam with his arm. "Come on, let's keep looking."

* * * * * * *