Song Quest: Echorium Sequence, #1

By Katherine Roberts

WINNER OF THE BRANFORD BOASE AWARD.

Imagine a song with the power to heal or kill. Imagine being taught to sing such songs... Enter the Echorium, where the forces of good and evil are held in harmony by blue-haired Singers whose voices are their only weapons. 

On the Isle of Echoes, three young Singers are being taught to heal the sick and keep the peace in their world using five Songs of Power – Challa for healing, Kashe for laughter, Shi for pain, Aushan for punishment, and Yehn for death. When their lessons are interrupted by a Mainlander ship breaking up on the reef in an unnatural storm, talented novice Rialle, her best friend Frenn, and class rebel Kherron find themselves part of a dangerous quest to discover who is hunting the merlee half-creatures that protect the waters around the Isle. 

Soon the Singer party is buried deep under the mountains of the Karch, and Rialle is imprisoned in a cage by the evil Khizpriest who plans to use her voice against the Echorium. In a land where swords are more powerful than songs, the novices will need more than their voices to survive.

"Fascinating and poetic." Joan Aiken.

"Imagine mixing a little Tamora Pierce with Le Guin's 'A Wizard of Earthsea', add a dash of 'The Hobbit' and a pinch of 'Narnia'… and read on as a thumping good story unfolds." Tara Stephenson, Blackwell Children's Bookshop.

SONG QUEST won the inaugural Branford Boase Award in the UK for best debut novel for young readers, and is followed by CRYSTAL MASK and DARK QUETZAL.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Katherine Roberts
• Release date: Jan 3, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524289249

Katherine Roberts

Katherine Roberts grew up in the southwest of England, where her first fantasy stories were told to her little brother at bedtime. She graduated in mathematics from the University of Bath, after which she worked for the General Electric Company, and later for an American company developing business models for petrol stations. When redundancy struck in 1989, she fulfilled her childhood dream of working with horses in a National Hunt racing yard, writing in her spare time. After several years of writing short fantasy and horror stories for genre magazines, her first book Song Quest won the 2000 Branford Boase Award for best debut novel for young readers, kick-starting her career as an author. Her books have been published by HarperCollins, Chicken House and Scholastic US, and translated into 12 languages worldwide – one of them even hit the bestseller list in Taiwan. Her latest series for young readers, The Pendragon Legacy about King Arthur’s daughter, is published in the UK by Templar Books. Away from her computer, Katherine enjoys folk music, cycling, skiing, and horse riding holidays. She has flown a glider solo and scared herself silly doing aerobatics in a small plane. All of these experiences eventually find their way into her books – though sometimes the horse becomes a unicorn, and the plane becomes a dragon!

Book preview

Echorium Anthem

For healing sleep of lavender dreams,

For laughter golden and gay,

For tears shed in turquoise streams,

For fear, blood and scarlet screams,

For death of deepest midnight shade.

For these the Songs,

Five in one.

Challa, Kashe, Shi, Aushan, Yehn.

The Echorium Sequence

LONG AGO, BEFORE HUMAN history began, the world was inhabited by beautiful creatures – half human and half animal – who knew the secret of controlling their environment using the ancient power of Song. For a while these half creatures lived in harmony with their human neighbours.

But it was not long before the humans, impatient for progress, turned their backs on the old ways and made tools with which they built great towns and cities, ships to sail the seas, and wheels to travel the land. Soon they began to make war upon one another, destroying the very things they had built. The half creatures fled to the remote parts of the world, deep into the forests, to the bottom of lakes, and far beneath the waves, taking their secrets with them.

Not all humans forgot the old Songs. Those who saw how destructive their way of life had become set out across the sea to find a haven. On an island of enchanted bluestone, they built a school and taught their children the five ancient Songs of Power: Challa for healing, Kashe for laughter, Shi for sadness, Aushan for discipline, and Yehn for death.

News of the enchanted isle where people were healed by the power of Song quickly spread to the furthest corners of the world. The island became known as the Isle of Echoes, the school became the Echorium, and the people who lived there became the Singers.

The Singers made it their mission to restore harmony to the world. They dyed their hair blue to enhance the power of their Songs and added diplomatic skills to their lessons. Those youngsters whose voices could not manage the Songs were trained in weapons skills so they could help protect the Echorium. Singers negotiated treaties with the world’s leaders and made sure that those treaties were kept. When necessary, they sailed to the mainland to stop wars and put an end to cruelty. Their children could speak with half creatures and became friends with them. But as the fame and influence of the Singers grew, so did the number of their human enemies, and sometimes those enemies threatened the shores of the Isle itself.

Welcome to the world of the Singers!

Chapter 1

SHIPWRECK

THE DAY EVERYTHING changed, Singer Graia took Rialle’s class down the Five Thousand Steps to the west beach. They followed her eagerly enough. A Mainlander ship had broken up on the reef in the recent storms, and the Final Years were being allowed out of the Echorium to search for pieces of the wreck.

This was such a rare treat, the very air thrummed with snatches of the laughter-song Kashe as the class gathered around the rock Singer Graia had adopted as a lecture podium. Graia’s formal robe of grey Singer silk billowed in the wind, but she’d plaited her thick blue hair into a rope which hung over one shoulder, softening the effect. When she called for silence and led them all in the Echorium anthem, the Final Years sang with more enthusiasm than usual – most of them, anyway. Rialle had a nagging headache, which even the Kashe failed to shift. Frenn and Chissar, forever doing silly things to try to impress her, were mouthing the less reverent pallet-ditty under their breath. While at the very back of the group, jaw set in typical Kherron-fashion and eyes burning a hole in Rialle’s back, the most unpopular boy in the class wasn’t singing at all.

For healing sleep of lavender dreams... Graia sang.

"Challa makes you dream..." muttered Frenn, his blue eyes full of mischief.

A few people giggled and joined in, slightly off key, making Rialle long to push through all the white-clad bodies and find a space where she could breathe. She’d already had her toes trodden on twice this morning and Gilli, clumsy as ever, had even managed to tread on the ends of her hair coming down the Steps. That was the trouble with being small. When people got excited, they tended to forget you were there. Frenn had once joked she should cut her hair before she fell over it herself. But Rialle wouldn’t let the orderlies near it with their blades, no matter how often they complained she used twice as much hair dye as any other Singer. The blue tangles helped hide her boring grey eyes and freckles.

...For laughter golden and gay... Graia.

"...Kashe makes you laugh..." Chissar.

...For tears shed in turquoise streams... Graia.

"...Shi makes you cry..." Frenn again.

Rialle stood on tiptoe to check their teacher wasn’t looking, then slid her hands under her hair and covered her ears. Even so, the final part of the anthem trickled through. For some reason she’d never understand, people always sang louder at the end.

...For fear, blood and scarlet screams...

"...Aushan makes you scream..."

...For death of deepest midnight shade.

"...Yehn makes you DIE."

Frenn’s voice squeaked on the last note, and Graia glanced their way with a frown. Both Frenn and Chissar assumed innocent expressions until her gaze moved on.

At this point, someone prodded Rialle in the back. Pay attention, teacher’s pet, sneered a familiar voice. Or you won’t come top of the class today.

She looked round, and her heart sank. Kherron trouble was the last thing she needed today.

Frenn scowled and Chissar stiffened. Kherron’s eyes flashed green. He raised his chin, challenging them to make a fight of it. But Frenn, whose fists were large enough to knock most of the boys in their class halfway to Shell Island, pulled Chissar away and winked at Rialle. Ignore him, he whispered. He’s only jealous.

She gave him a grateful smile, pressed a hand to her forehead, and tried to concentrate on what Singer Graia was saying.

Don’t just use your eyes, use all your senses, she told them. For example, you might tread on something strange before you see it. Even if it’s covered by sand or seaweed, you should feel it beneath your sandals and this’ll give you a clue where to start digging. Stay alert for alien smells. But most of all, use your ears. She gave them a meaningful look.

Frenn and Chissar cast impatient glances at the long stretch of glistening sand, but Rialle’s gaze was drawn to the sea. Storm clouds, solid as another island, blotted out the western horizon. She shivered as the wind lifted her skirt. It was at times like these she envied the boys, who wore calf-length leggings under their white tunics.

Don’t waste time talking, Singer Graia went on, almost as if she knew what Rialle was thinking. We haven’t long before this weather turns. And don’t forget that when you get back, the First Singer will be interviewing each of you to find out what you’ve learned.

There were several groans. Rialle’s stomach gave an uneasy flutter.

What’s the matter? Kherron whispered in her ear. Afraid you’ll find a dead body?

She jumped. She hadn’t realized he was still there. A few paces away, Frenn and Chissar were plotting something, their blue heads close together.

You’ll never make a Singer if you’re afraid of death, Kherron went on softly. "Never could sing Aushan or Yehn properly, could you? I’d say it’s obvious why Eliya sent us down here. She’s weeding out the weaklings. He smirked round the group. I’m surprised she bothered. I can tell you right now who’s going to fail. You for a start, fat old Gilli, that lump Frenn—"

Shh! Rialle hissed back, seeing Graia’s eyes flick their way. It was true she felt uncomfortable singing the last two Songs, and this made her voice weak when they practiced them. But she’d never heard Yehn sung on the Pentangle, and was in no hurry to – unlike some of the boys, who thought it a great laugh to trap First Years in the corridors and hum a few bars of the death Song until the poor things fainted in terror.

Kherron chuckled. See? Now you’re afraid you’ll get into trouble. You’re much too soft to be a Singer.

Leave me alone, Kherron. I’ve got a headache.

"That’s your fault. You should have asked for Challa. Unexpectedly, he seized her wrist. His nails might have been clean and neatly clipped, but they still hurt where they dug into her skin. Come with me, and we’ll search the coves around the headland, just the two of us."

Rialle snatched her hand away, skin prickling. Stop it, you idiot!

Up until now, they’d been speaking in the near silent pallet-whispers novices used when they didn’t want to be overheard by their teachers. But the shock of Kherron grabbing her like that destroyed her control, and her voice squeaked louder than Frenn’s had earlier.

Rialle? Graia frowned over the blue heads, some of which twisted round to see what was the matter. Is there something wrong?

Kherron edged away, his glare daring her to tell. Rialle pushed windblown hair out of her eyes and shook her head. Nothing, Singer. I’m sorry I interrupted. I don’t feel very well, that’s all.

Graia frowned at her a moment or two longer, then pursed her lips and continued to lecture them all on how to behave, reminding them they were almost Singers now. Even if some of them would later become orderlies or serve in the Birthing House, today they were all equal and should behave accordingly. They weren’t the only ones on the beach, remember, and the villagers expected a certain amount of decorum from those who would one day be responsible for curing their sick and keeping peace in the world.

Rialle watched Kherron edge his way round the back of the class until he was out of Graia’s sight, then jump down onto the sand and duck into the shadow of the cliff. If anyone else noticed he’d gone, they pretended not to.

Let the idiot look, Frenn whispered. He won’t find a thing. If there were any bodies down here, the villagers would’ve have dealt with them already. They stink something awful if you leave them lying around too long.

Oh? And how would you know? Chissar said, giving Rialle a sideways look. Seen one, have you?

No, but I heard the orderlies talking about them.

Ha! Chissar snorted. That means nothing. Everyone knows orderlies tell more lies than Mainlanders.

And how would you know? Frenn said, winking at Rialle. Ever heard a Mainlander?

I’ve heard the people shouting in the cells.

Them aren’t proper Mainlanders, stupid. Them are Crazies. They talk rubbish, everyone knows that.

Rialle closed her eyes. Their voices, especially Frenn’s with its tendency to shoot high and low in the same breath, were hurting her head.

Stop it, you two, she hissed, casting a worried glance at Singer Graia. Or we’ll all get Songs tonight.

Chissar gave her a playful push. "You won’t! You’re going to be a Singer, and everyone knows Singers aren’t given too many Songs themselves. He grinned at Frenn. We’ll all be Singers! I hope we get chambers on the same corridor – do you think Eliya will arrange it for us, if we ask?"

Frenn frowned, and Rialle’s stomach performed another uneasy turn. It was true they were all nearing the time of change, when they would learn if the promise in their voices would survive into adulthood. This happened to girls a couple of years earlier than boys, but classes were arranged so everyone approached the change together. If there was going to be a final test as Kherron claimed, then it would be their voices that mattered, not whether they screamed if they found a dead body on the beach.

All right! Singer Graia said at last, spreading her arms and treating them all to a rare smile. "I know you don’t want to spend the whole day listening to me, so we’ll go onto the beach now. Spread out, and keep your eyes and ears open. Again, she gave them that meaningful look. Anything you find, bring it to me first. The villagers have been instructed to bring baskets to collect the most interesting items, but we won’t be taking everything back up the Steps with us. As she spoke, she’d been running her gaze over them, counting. She looked round with a frown. Where’s Kherron?"

Heads shook innocently. Then someone pointed to a white dot halfway down the sand.

The sneak! Chissar exclaimed. Now he’ll find all the best treasure.

Rialle watched Kherron’s dwindling figure with mixed emotions. Even though he acted so stupid, she couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. He was the best singer of all the boys in their year, and quite often he’d come close to singing as well as her. But instead of being content with second place, he’d get into trouble for disrupting the class and be sent to the Pentangle stool in disgrace. He’s such an idiot, she whispered. He’ll get a Song again if he’s not careful.

Serves him right, Frenn said.

Maybe Graia will let him off, since we’re going that way anyway.

But Singer Graia was already filling her lungs for a shout down the beach. Only just in time, Rialle slammed her hands to her ears, fingers snagging in her hair. From the corners of her eyes, she saw the others doing the same.

KHERRON!

The tiny figure flinched. Rialle thought she saw his head turn, his blue curls blow briefly in the wind. Then he began to run – in the opposite direction.

Singer Graia’s brows came down. She hummed low in her throat, a snatch of pure Aushan that made Rialle’s bare arms break out in goosebumps. Even though the fear Song wasn’t directed at them, the other Final Years edged out of Graia’s way.

He’s in trouble now, all right, Frenn said.

Chissar shrugged. Oh, Kherron’s always in trouble. Forget him. C’mon, Rialle. Let’s find Mainlander treasure!

IT WAS A BIG BEACH, and the three friends soon left the rest of the class behind. As they wandered along the tideline, Chissar and Frenn darted back and forth, digging up pieces of broken shell and popping the bubbles in seaweed, teasing each other they’d found things when all they had were handfuls of silver sand containing tiny specks of bluestone. Rialle walked slowly, eyes half closed, concentrating on keeping her breakfast down. By now, her head was throbbing like one of the drums their teachers used to keep rhythm, yet she couldn’t stop thinking about Singer Graia’s words.

Use all your senses. Use your ears.

The boom of the surf, the screeching gulls, the others’ laughter further up the beach, all this only made the pain worse. She began to wish she didn’t have ears. When Chissar crept up behind her, draped a long piece of slimy weed over her shoulder and hummed a bar of Yehn in her ear, she whirled and threw the thing into the waves with a little scream.

Fooled you! Chissar said. Thought it was a dead sailor’s arm, didn’t you?

That wasn’t funny, Chissar.

Hey, look at this! Ahead of them, Frenn extracted something from a pile of weed and whistled. It glittered in the stormy sunlight like a ring of fire. It’s a bracelet, pretty heavy too. Wonder what metal it’s made of? He held the bracelet out of reach as Chissar dashed across, but the boy leapt on his arm, using his whole weight to force it down, and soon the two of them were arguing over the find.

Rialle stayed where she was and gazed out to sea. The storm clouds were creeping closer, sliced now by green flashes. The distant thunder seemed to get right inside her head. She clutched her ears and sank to her knees in the wet sand. Her hair dropped across her face in a tangled blue curtain, but she didn’t have the strength to push it back.

Better take it to Singer Graia, Chissar was saying.

In a moment. Rialle, come look at this! It’s got Mainland animals carved on it... Frenn’s words trailed off when he saw her. Hey, what’s up? He came back, lifted a strand of her hair and peered under it. Rialle? What are you doing under there? Echoes! You look awful!

The concern in his eyes, and the way he tried to hide it with his lopsided grin, made her feel a bit better. She managed a weak smile. I feel awful! I thought it was just outside sickness, like I got last year, except— She glanced at the sea again. Frenn, can you hear anything?

He cocked his head. Even without Singer Graia’s meaningful looks, they all took such a question seriously. Their teachers asked them the same thing, over and over, every day of their lives.

Um... Singer Graia humming to herself. She sounds really annoyed. Kherron’s going to be in for it when she finds him. Gilli puffing and panting as usual. Echoes only know how she’ll get back up the Steps, the villagers will probably have to carry her in one of their baskets. Surf, of course, over the reef. Chissar breathing down our necks – back off, you idiot, give her some air! A couple of gulls on top of the cliff, squabbling over a fish... or maybe sea eagles, I never was much good at birds...

No, I mean out there. Out at sea.

At sea? Frenn scanned the empty waves. Just wind and thunder. Anything out there’s got a suicide wish with these storms around, if you ask me.

I can’t hear anything, either. Chissar frowned at the approaching storm. That lot’s coming in awful fast, though. Maybe we’d better get back to the others.

True enough, the darkness was creeping closer and closer, swallowing the water even as they watched. Rialle shivered.

What do you think you heard? Frenn said softly.

She shook her head. Just my imagination, I expect. You’re right – anyone out there must be a Crazy. She climbed to her feet, pushed her hair behind her ears, and forced another smile. Come on, you have to show your bracelet to Singer Graia. It’s pretty. Do you think she’ll let you keep it?

Hope so! Frenn said. It’s a bit big, though. He dangled it on his wrist to demonstrate. Chissar, seeing his chance, snatched it off and fled up the beach. Frenn gave chase, and soon the two friends were engaged in a mock wrestling match that involved fountains of sand and breathless snatches of Aushan. Rialle giggled. Most un-Singerlike behaviour. She only hoped Graia was too busy looking for Kherron to notice.

She’d started to follow the boys when the sun plunged behind the cloudbank, embroidering its edges with gold. The beach darkened. The wind dropped, and her skin tightened as if she’d plunged into cold water. She turned to look at the sea. There was something.

The first wave, foaming so suddenly around her ankles, startled her. She looked down in surprise as it sucked out again. Was the tide coming in that fast? The wind picked up again, blowing spray into her eyes, tangling her hair into knots. She licked salt from her lips and frowned at the horizon. Far out beyond the reef, a song seemed to be coming from the black centre of the storm, a song like none she’d ever heard before, as wild and uncontrolled as the sea.

Who’s there? she whispered.

The pressure in her head grew. Then, as if someone had dropped a sheet of Isle glass, the pain shattered into words.

Danger! Strange ships sailing! Children dying, children eaten...

The message was so full of terror, Rialle forgot decorum and screamed. The next wave crashed over her head, knocking her flat. Her nose filled with bubbles, her mouth with sand. There was an unsettling jerk, as if someone had pulled her pallet from under her while she slept. Then feet splashed into the surf behind her, and strong arms closed around her waist, pulling her back.

Rialle! Frenn sounded nearly as frightened as she felt. "What are you doing? You could’ve drowned!"

She blinked at his dripping chin, aware of his warmth pressing through her wet tunic. The others are coming, she whispered.

Frenn flushed and released her. He stepped back, trying to make a joke of it, which was lost in a sudden crack of thunder.

Her scream had attracted attention. Those villagers within earshot started towards them, baskets bobbing on their backs like giant shells against the darkening sky. The Final Years abandoned their treasure hunt and came running, kicking up great crests of sand.

What’s wrong? they clamoured. What happened?

Rialle’s a salad-brain! She tried to go swimming with all her clothes on!

Take them off, Rialle! one of the boys called – a Kherron-comment if ever there was one, except Kherron would have made it sound like an insult, not a joke. Then Singer Graia, humming Challa to calm everyone down, pushed through and wrapped a cloak around Rialle’s shaking shoulders.

The weight and musty smell of the goatshair brought the beach back into focus. The giggles and comments fell silent as a sudden gust filled Singer Graia’s robe and the first big drops splashed down. Within the space of a few heartbeats, the grey silk turned black, and the sand all around them dimpled like Gilli’s flesh.

Graia tilted Rialle’s chin and looked into her eyes. So you heard them, did you? she said. Good. Maybe now we can all go back inside and get dry.

THE RAIN CAME IN SLANTS, hissing into the sand. Kherron made a dash for the cliffs and ducked into the nearest cave. He rested his hands on his knees, panting and chuckling in the same breath. Idiots, he whispered. "Out there, getting