The Songbird River Chronicles: The Complete Series: Songbird River Chronicles

By Brigid Collins

A girl with power in her song. Her friends with strength in their hearts. The full Chronicles at the tips of your fingers…

 

SINGER
A silent woman awakens on the edge of a dusty wasteland. A Lady Fencer leads a journey to claim a powerful sword. A young Guide-in-training takes his unwanted follower along while he attempts his master's trial. Their goals all converge in the mysterious ruined city, from which no one has ever returned alive.

 

THE SOUTHERN DRAGON
Nothing will grow in the ruined Songbird River Valley. What's worse, Singer's energy dissipates every time she tries to use it. When Katherina arrives with news of their friend Farien's disappearance and of a mysterious jungle springing up to the south, both Singer and Katherina must embark on journeys to the far corners of the continent.

 

THE FOUNT OF MAGIC
Katherina faces false charges of murdering Klessia's Master Magician. Serille struggles to retaliate against those who attacked the Guild of her heart. And Singer returns to Songbird River City to find her greatest fear has come true: her sword has fallen into the hands of the Sorcerers, and with it, the ability to control her dangerous Search-and-Rescue machines.

As the three journey to different corners of the world, the Sorcerers' attempts the sow dissonance between them may yet work…

 

THE DARK WAYS
Terrified he is losing himself to the Dark Ways, Farien flees Katherina's side and vows to spend what time remains keeping the Sorcerers from discovering her. Abandoned, Katherina chooses to sacrifice her glory. Magically flung from Serille, Shan tumbles into the path of an old friend and decides to bring a powerful gift to Songbird River City.

And Singer, locked away from every friend, struggles to determine the path of her future, and her true nature.
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Frosty Owl Publishing
• Release date: May 11, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393867036

Brigid Collins

Brigid Collins is a fantasy and science fiction writer living in Michigan. Her short stories have appeared in Fiction River, The Young Explorer's Adventure Guide, and Chronicle Worlds: Feyland. Books 1 through 3 of her fantasy series, Songbird River Chronicles, are available in print and electronic versions on Amazon and Kobo. You can sign up for her newsletter at tinyletter.com/HarmonicStories or follow her on twitter @purellian.

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The Songbird River Chronicles

The Complete Series

Singer copyright 2012

The Southern Dragon copyright 2014

The Fount of Magic copyright 2016

The Dark Ways copyright 2020

Cover Design © 2020 Deranged Doctor Designs

All rights reserved

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All incidents, dialog, and characters are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

Frosty Owl Publishing

www.frostyowlpublishing.com

About Singer

A silent woman awakens on the edge of a dusty wasteland. A Lady Fencer leads a journey to claim a powerful sword. A young Guide-in-training takes his unwanted follower along while he attempts his master’s trial. Their goals all converge in the mysterious ruined city, from which no one has ever returned alive.

Prologue

All was lost.

All could not be lost, though. They couldn’t just give up now, not after coming so far. They had to keep going, keep pushing, and reach the center together. Everything would be okay as soon as they got there and finally met their goal.

But first they’d have to find one another.

Marcin checked himself over before standing shakily. Other than some nasty cuts and bruises, he declared himself not too badly injured and examined his new surroundings.

In the distance he could hear the grating, metallic roar of the flying beast that had thrown all three of them from the balcony it had caught them on.

Marcin had ended up in an alleyway of sorts. Tall buildings leaned in over him, casting dark shadows on everything. The stone of the road he stood on showed cracks and other signs of wear, not helped by the fallen blocks and sculptures that had smashed down from the buildings above. This alley had no more shelter from the destruction and ruin than the rest of the city.

He heard the creature roar again and crash into another building further away. He strained his ears, not sure if he wanted to hear the screams of his companions or not. He had to find them, but not by following the sounds of their demise.

Shasha, he thought. I have to find Shasha.

He stumbled out of the alleyway and looked for a way to higher ground. It would be more dangerous and exposed there, but he should be able to see more of the city that way. Maybe he could see where the girls had been thrown off to.

Climbing over some fallen beams, he eventually reached a stairway that led to the roof of a taller building. He stepped carefully, seeing signs of impending collapse along the path. He hugged the inside wall, sometimes even clutching at the stones for stability, and made his slow way to the top. Once he got there, he stood and regained his sense of balance for a moment.

This wasn’t the highest he’d been in the ruined city, but the view here still took his breath away.

The moon shone off the stone sides of the buildings, lining with a white glow the places where they had lost bits and had other parts smashed away. Higher up on the tops of some structures, old statues looked down, probably once fiercely, but now full of regret and sadness. Marcin wished he could ask them what had happened in this place so many years ago to make it this way now. He wished more that he could ask them to show him where Shasha was, though.

Shasha! Shaaaashaaa! he called.

He looked in every direction he could, and was soon rewarded with a sign. That light blue glow nearly blended into the moonlight, but Marcin still managed to pick it out. He knew it came from Iryssa.

The blue shimmer directed him to a point roughly southwest of his little tower lookout. He memorized the position and scrambled back down the disintegrating stairway.

He covered the distance as quickly as he could, but it still took him a good half hour to finally find them. He kept calling out, both Shasha’s and Iryssa’s names, but the only answer he would get was more of Iryssa’s light. A great cracking noise reverberated through the city, signaling the monster’s continued search for its prey. For them.

Iryssa knelt over Shasha’s broken body on a pile of crushed rock. Marcin thought of how cheerful Iryssa’d been throughout their journey together, ever since he and Shasha had met her in the wasteland outside of the ruined city.

Now, tears flowed freely down her cheeks when she turned to look at him. Her hands glowed the same light blue color as her guiding beacons had been.

She was trying to use her healing magic to save Shasha.

I’m sorry, she said. I’m trying.

Marcin stepped to her side and knelt down. Shasha’s eyes were open, but their glassy look told him she was already dead. Her body twisted at an odd angle. She’d probably smashed into the rocks and died in the fall. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself not to cry. It didn’t work.

Shasha… I promised you we’d make it to the center and back again, but now you’re…

He heard Iryssa straining beside him, pouring all of her power into his wife’s body. He turned and pulled the girl against him. Stop. She’s not coming back.

Iryssa sobbed. I tried. She was still alive when I found her, but…

Marcin stood quickly, pulling the healer with him. He made a decision. We are getting out of here. Now.

But, the center, we have to get there! That was the whole point!

No. I’m not going to let you die, too. You weren’t even a part of this stupid quest of ours. We shouldn’t have come here.

Iryssa was quiet, but she allowed him to pull her away from Shasha. He hated leaving his wife there like that, but he couldn’t do anything else. That monster was still out there, and he would not let it kill Iryssa, too.

The two of them scrambled along, looking for familiar landmarks to guide them back out of the city.

They had traveled for only a few minutes when the second creature came on them. A crawling machine, but still a Destroyer like the flying one that had killed Shasha. It caught them completely unawares. With a set of monotone beeps and clicks, it rushed at them, twenty legs flailing and gyrating grotesquely.

This way! Marcin shouted, tugging Iryssa’s arm.

Iryssa had decided to go the opposite way, though. They were separated in moments, and the thing came between them.

Marcin stood frozen, watching as the girl stumbled, tripped, and went down. The monster clicked over her, then struck.

It lashed out with a sharp front leg and shot a beam of green light from its middle eye. Iryssa let out a choked sound, hardly even a scream, and then flew apart into pieces.

Marcin realized he’d lost control of his legs and was now sitting on the ground. He tried to shuffle backwards, pulling himself along with his arms. He couldn’t manage it. He couldn’t even manage the energy to be sick.

The creature turned with more beeps and clicks. Its three eyes trained on him, the middle one still bright green.

Marcin closed his eyes.

Chapter 1

She awoke in a green grove full of gray dust. Large bushes and small trees surrounded her, and though she couldn’t see any birds or animals, she could sometimes hear them further in where the forest grew thicker. The fine, gray dust settled on the ground in a thin blanket, slightly piled up around the bases of the trees. A film of it lined each leaf with a silvery sheen.

The forest seemed so nice, so full of life and energy, that she wanted nothing more than to run through the foliage and dance with the birds. She even got up and tried to move under the larger trees, but she could take no more than a few steps before she became exhausted.

She lay in the dust and slept for a while. She thought she dreamed, but when she woke again, she couldn’t remember it.

She stood and shook the dust from her cloak. Happy to see that once the dust was gone her cloak was a vibrant mix of blue and red embroidery, she hummed a bit. She even had a piece of jewelry in the form of a small metal disc tied around her neck. The hem of her cloak had been torn at some point, but that didn’t matter much to her.

She wanted to try to make it into the forest again, but turned around instead. Before her, the trees dwindled away to nothing in the span of a few feet, giving way to the dust. Up close the dust looked like ash, but out there it looked like the drifting sands of some desert. It even formed dunes in the distance. Amongst these dunes, she could make out dark shapes low to the ground.

Upon seeing all this, she instantly felt a pull to travel in this direction, different from her desire to enter the forest. That was merely a thing that she wanted. This was a thing that she needed. She didn’t particularly like the idea of going into the dust desert. It made her feel old and weary.

There was no point in waiting, though. The longer she stood there in the trees, the more that pull became the only thing she could feel. She liked the feeling even less than the idea of walking into the desert, so she stepped forward.

Dust clouds rose in puffs with each step she took, clinging to her shoes and pants until she looked like a statue from the knees down. Eventually, the drifts became deep enough that she had to adopt more of a shuffling gait. Her feet sank a bit deeper into the dust, and she shook her cloak out more and more often.

She came closer to one of the dark shapes she had seen from the grove. It solidified as a bit of a low wall, broken and crumbled and alone out here in this gray wasteland. When she reached it she found smaller bits of stone lying on the ground around it. The far side of the wall had dust piled up around it. Under the film of dust that draped itself over everything, she could see the red color of the wall, and that it had once had some pattern adorning it. Wanting to see if she could make the pattern out, she swept her hand over the stone, but the wind and dust had worn it down until it had faded beyond recognition. She sighed in disappointment.

She climbed to the top of the wall and sat on the ragged edge for a moment, looking forward at the other dark shapes she could see. They must also be parts of buildings, or maybe whole buildings, she thought. Somehow, these signs of civilization didn’t give her the feeling that there might be other living things out here. She had left all chance of meeting even the smallest insect behind in the bright green forest.

She was alone.

She was lonely.

These thoughts made her sad. She had no choice but to continue further into the waste, alone.

As she shuffled along, she thought of the kind of companion she might like to meet. Perhaps a bird would be fun. She felt a certain affinity to birds, which was strange, since she’d never seen one before. She had no idea how she knew what a bird was, or an insect, or even that they were different things and different from herself. On the other hand, she had almost no knowledge pertaining to herself.

Maybe a snake would come along, or a lizard. She knew these kinds of creatures sometimes lived in the desert, but she couldn’t imagine that she would run into either of them in a place so barren and desolate as this.

By this time, she had been walking for nearly two hours. She had passed by three or four similar bits of ruined buildings, piles of stones tumbling into the dust. She couldn’t tell anymore if the faint colors on these bits stood out like beacons or if they simply blended into the overall gray color of the world, too washed out to be anything special anymore. The wind blew dust in her face as she walked beyond the most recent broken wall. This one had a set of wind-worn pillars leaning at odd angles beside it.

Ho, traveler! What might you be doing alone in a place like this?

She whipped her head around to the source of the voice, surprised. A figure stepped out from behind the crooked pillars into a shadow. She could make out that the figure wore a cape and appeared to have long hair tied up in a tail that flapped in the wind along with the cape. As she stood staring, the figure beckoned her closer.

Come, won’t you join us? My companions and I have food and tales to share, and plenty of room for one more.

She felt a swelling in her heart. The figure had companions, and more than one! It felt like a luxury in the wasteland, such a gathering of living things. Wanting nothing more than to not have to travel alone anymore, she stepped over to the figure in the ruins.

The figure turned out to be a lavishly dressed woman. Her long green cape billowed behind her, revealing a purple tunic covered with a leather vest and pants that must have once been brown, but were now mostly the ashy color of the pervasive dust. Her leather boots came up to her calves and still managed to shine a bit through their dusting. On top of her head perched a black hat with silver embroidery around its brim, which pointed in the front and back. A leather belt hung around her waist, holding a lovely rapier with a golden hilt against her right hip.

Welcome to our cheery camp, traveler, said the woman, sweeping her hat off and bowing with a flourish. My name is Katherina, hailing from Dorthin. I’m sure you’ve heard of me in the capacity of the Greatest Fencer in the Realm?

She looked at the woman curiously, feeling bad that she had not heard of her. She didn’t want to disappoint her new companion.

Katherina straightened and put her hat back on. You haven’t, then? Well, that is odd, but certainly not a crime. Come, what is your name?

She liked Katherina’s smile, a bit brash and full of boast. She opened her mouth to tell her that she didn’t know if she even had a name, and sang a loud note. Katherina’s smile turned into something more joyful at the sound.

Ah, a Singer, are you? We could do with a bard. Perhaps you can team up with our tag-along Historian and put his dry old stories to a tune! she said with a laugh.

Wanting to join in her new friend’s mirth even though she didn’t understand it, she tried to imitate the laughter. It came out as a quick succession of short, light notes that had a nice rippling quality.

Katherina smiled at her and turned to walk back into the ruin of pillars. She raised a hand and waved it in the direction she was heading.

You certainly are an interesting character. I like you, Singer. Come, this way. The others are waiting in here.

On the other side of the wall sat three men and their belongings. The one furthest away sat up straight, surveying the surrounding area, and played with some odd instruments he had strewn about him.

The second man sat against the wall, but hunched over a book. He wrote furiously, using the corner of his cloak to shield the pages from the dust blowing around.

The third man stood the moment she and Katherina rounded the corner. He also had a rapier at his side, but one of obviously lesser quality.

My Lady Katherina, he called in what he clearly thought of as a gallant voice. Who is this you have brought to us?

A Singer, the woman replied with a nod back to her. She was just about to tell me her name.

Katherina’s declaration caused the other two men to turn their attention away from what they were doing. All four of the little group looked at her expectantly, all but the first man appearing friendly. She looked at her feet for a moment, suddenly shy under all this attention, then quietly sang a few notes.

Ah, she said. Ah, ah.

That is lovely, Singer, Katherina said, not untruthfully, but do you know any songs with words?

Suddenly afraid that she had made the woman angry, she hid her hands in her cloak and looked at the other travelers. The young man who had spoken looked confused, and the man who had been writing looked curious. The other man just looked grumpy. She sang a few more notes sadly.

The writing man smiled and stepped forward.

My dear, would I be too far off at this point to assume that perhaps this singing is all you can, well, say, for lack of a better word?

She smiled brightly at his theory and sang some more in celebration. She even clapped her hands a bit.

Katherina chuckled and turned to the other swordsman. "A fine band we’ve got ourselves here, Farien. Our Guide who will be friends with no one, our Historian who is recording everything we do, and our Singer, who only sings."

She flung her arms out and spun around to face deeper into the wasteland. The wind blew her cape out to her left. With the sun shining almost directly in front of her, glinting off the golden hilt of her sword, she really did strike a dramatic figure.

What a grand, fun little quest we are having! Singer, you shall certainly have a place with us!

Singer smiled, sang her musical laugh, and danced circles around the Historian.

She wasn’t alone!

Chapter 2

We are traveling to the ruins of the Nameless City, said Shan Eyfish, the Historian. It is a journey of great historical significance! None has ever survived a complete journey to the center—

And we shall unquestionably be the first to do it, no problem! Katherina interrupted him with a flapping of her hand. What has or hasn’t happened to other explorers is of no consequence to us, so long as none of them has picked up that sword without telling anyone!

Standing away from the group, Henith, the Guide, snorted in derision. Don’t worry, Lady. If it had been picked up, you’d have heard. But you’re right about not caring what happened to past explorers. They died because they hired poor Guides, or none at all.

Ah, Singer sang. A creature losing its life was always cause for sadness.

Surely, though, Shan said pointedly. You can admit that knowing what misfortunes befell past explorers can help you to avoid them yourself?

A Guide finds his own path, with no help from others.

Enough, both of you, Katherina called. I have no interest at the moment in listening to you two argue about the importance of history. We were telling Singer about our quest.

Shan bowed a little from his sitting position. I apologize, my Lady. Yes, regardless of the historical importance of the venture, Lady Katherina has come to the Nameless City for a Purpose.

The sword that cannot be defeated! the woman cried excitedly. "It will only allow itself to be wielded by one who can defeat it in a duel."

So goes the legend, anyway. Legends are not always entirely factual, let us remember, said Shan.

Farien glared at the Historian, speaking up suddenly. I don’t like it when you say things like that. It always sounds like you don’t actually believe that the sword is real.

The Historian put his hands up. No, no, far be it from me to deny the existence of something that Lady Katherina has decided exists for her use! I merely point out that the legend may have twisted some of the descriptions of such a fabulous weapon.

Katherina grinned. "Whether it is as the legend describes it or not, I will be the one to find out. I don’t want to hear that someone other than I has an undefeatable sword!"

Singer hummed a bit. She didn’t care much about any sort of sword, and talking about it exhausted her. She felt that it had nothing to do with her own voyage into the wasteland. She did, however, want to know more about the city. She was certain that she was meant to go to the city, though she didn’t know what she would do when she got there.

She put her hand on Shan’s arm and sang a note.

He smiled at her, adjusting the small, silver-framed bits of glass that he looked through.

Did you want to know more about something? The Nameless City? he added when she nodded. He sat up a bit straighter against the wall. Well, the legends call it the Nameless City simply because no one knows what it was called in truth. All of its people died out before they made contact with any other civilizations. In fact, other peoples only came to know of its existence when its Doom fell upon it. The legend describes it as a cataclysm of such force that they even heard rumblings of it as far away as the ports of Corisian!

Singer didn’t know where the ports of Corisian were, so the idea of distance was lost on her. The Historian’s eyes were widened comically in emphasis, though, so she assumed it was rather far.

Shan continued his tale. "Anyway, when the people came to see what was causing the great noise and rumbling, they found this valley just as we see it now, a wasteland of dust. They claimed that a terrible storm raged in the depths of the waste for ten days, but when it subsided on the eleventh, they could see that a large city had once stood there.

"The people tried to explore the ruins to see if anyone had survived, but all who entered the city perished. No one could find out anything about the place, and so it remained Nameless. Eventually, they decided that the people of the city must have brought a great curse down upon themselves, and that anyone who entered their city now would fall victim to it as well. Expeditions into the waste were forbidden.

Once the area was declared Cursed and Forbidden, of course, people became even more interested in it. I am convinced that the best way to make a thing popular is to wrap it in a good curse and tell people not to look at it, Shan said with a chuckle.

A wonderful business model if ever I heard one, dear Historian, Katherina drawled from her lounging position against the only pillar that remained standing straight up. Once I retire from being the Greatest Fencer in the Realm, I shall open a tavern, name it ‘Cursed’ and tell no one to come. I shall have a thriving business and be wealthy in my old age.

And I’d help, Farien piped up. I’ll help spread the word of the Cursed Tavern that no one should go to, and then we’ll have people coming from all over to give us their money!

Shan shook his head. If anyone can make that work, it will be Lady Katherina for sure. Anyway, where was I?

Ah, Singer sang. She pointed in the direction of the city.

Oh, yes. The Nameless City was Cursed and Forbidden, and people started having ideas about it. The city is said to be stuffed with wealth and riches, of course. The power of greed and wealth to bring about curses is well understood, so it is a natural hypothesis to conjecture. Other parts of the legend say that the people of the Nameless City had learned the Dark Ways and had mistakenly called too many of their denizens and were consumed by them. Most people consider it to be a mixture of the two and other ideas. Anyway, the ideas grew until we got the legends that we are working off of today.

You still sound like you don’t believe any of it, Farien said. Like none of it happened and everyone made it all up in their heads.

On the contrary, said Shan with a nod. "I think it all has an equal chance of being true. After all, clearly something happened to cause all of this destruction. He waved his hand at the dust and crumbling wall they were camped at. That is why I decided to attach myself to your little group here. I want to find out what did happen, which theory is correct, or if it was something that no one has thought of yet. And then I want to record it so that everyone in my Guild will know the real answer. My findings may even renew their interest in the city."

The Guide grunted. Hmph. Thought you said someone already made it through this city once. Wrote a book about it.

The Historian frowned. That is true. I have a copy of that book with me now, as a matter of fact. The thing is, though, this man never made it to the center of the city, which is of course the key to all of the information. He did describe the things he saw, but it was so long ago that the language is quite difficult to decipher, I’m afraid.

As he spoke, he pulled the book in question out of his sack, spilling papers and inkpots in the process. He rushed to shuffle the papers back in before the wind caught them.

Actually, the story of the undefeatable sword originates in Sherron’s writings. He never saw it himself, but he seems to have thought that it held great importance for the Nameless people. He claims to have discovered some of their writings describing it.

Of course the sword was important to them, Katherina scoffed. Undefeatable weapons generally are.

If it’s so unbeatable, why didn’t they use it to stop the curse? Henith said with a grumble, gathering his things. And it’s time we headed out. We’ve sat here chatting for too long, this isn’t an ideal place to spend the night.

They stood as a group, and Singer watched them pick up their packs and other belongings. She had no such things herself, so she just stood quietly next to the Historian.

Now who sounds like they don’t believe the sword is real? Shan asked.

’S not my job to believe in the things I’m hired to look for, just to find them and lead my employers to them.

Katherina laughed and slung an arm around the Guide’s shoulders. An excellent reply, dear Guide! Your attitude is perfect. You shall lead us to the sword or die trying, won’t you?

Henith glared at her and didn’t answer.

They left the slight shade and shelter of the wall and pillars, following the Guide toward the city and the center of the wasteland. At this point a Guide was a bit unnecessary when it came to direction, as the hazy outline of the city could be seen in the distance. He still found the easiest paths through the dunes of dust, and he knew what would make a good shelter for the night, so they followed him without question.

Katherina sidled up next to Singer as they shuffled along. Henith really is one of the best Guides around. He has quite the impressive résumé! He’s found his way through the Circle Forest, the Screaming Cliffs, and the Liquid Caves of Machichu, just to name a few. Great Sword! she exclaimed. I’d love to go to the Liquid Caves. I’d catch a water dragon and make it tame. Or maybe a fire dragon. Those are there, too, after all.

Ah, ah? Singer asked.

Yes. So our Guide may be gruff, but he’s good at what he does. If anyone can get us to the center of the Nameless City and out again, it’ll be him, no question.

Singer chirped a few notes, feeling comforted and yet sad. Not wanting to dwell on the sudden sadness, she pointed at the Historian, who walked a few paces ahead of them. Ah?

Katherina nodded. Yes, our Historian. Many adventuring groups find themselves burdened with one at some point or other. They like to record everything that happens, just in case you do something momentous or that may turn out to be important hundreds of years from now. A bit annoying at times, especially when he asks you to repeat what you’ve just said. But Shan Eyfish is good, too, and much more friendly than our Guide! He’s also as much of an expert on the Nameless City as we’re like to find, so we lucked out with him, I think. I do weary of his endless chatter about following that old book, though.

Henith stopped them at the top of a particularly large dune at one point so that he could look around and fiddle with his instruments. Singer found herself kicking clumps of dust over the edge and watching them tumble down the side in ripples that glinted in the sun. She giggled a song at the sight. Farien noticed her game and came beside her to join in. He gave a mighty kick to send a big load of dust rolling, but lost his balance and ended up tumbling over and sliding down on his back. Singer slid after him with a shouted note, worried that he’d hurt himself. He’d suffered no more than embarrassment, though, and they charged back up to the top to slide down together again.

Henith moved them on soon, scowling at his giggling followers. Singer, Farien, and Katherina slid down the dunes whenever they could after that, often passing the Guide by and having to wait at the bottom for him to catch up and scowl at them some more. Even Shan joined in their game every once in a while.

As the sun kissed the horizon, the dunes turned from dull gray to a glowing golden orange. Henith announced that they would stop for the night at the small group of buildings they had just come across. Three or four little houses sat crumbling in a semi-circle, but they were mostly intact and all but one had roofs on them. They surrounded a larger structure which still stood, despite never seeming to have had walls to begin with. This middle building came right to a sudden drop in the dust. Here, actual rock could be seen, just as blasted by wind as the ruins, but mostly bare of the gray film that covered everything else. Spanning this sudden ravine were several tall stone structures, all lined up. Some of them had small platforms left on top of them. Maybe they had served as a bridge when they were whole and joined, but for what? The bits left were too thin for a person to walk across safely, and there was nothing on the other side but more dust.

They made camp inside one of the small houses. While he and Farien worked to build a fire just outside, Henith told them his plan.

We’ll rest here tonight and then make our way southeast following the river. That should lead us directly to the city and make my job easy.

River? asked Katherina. There’s no such body of water for miles around us!

Henith glared in his usual way of telling someone they were being stupid. It was a look he had turned on Farien most often today, but no one had been spared it.

The water has long since dried up, but that ravine is an old riverbed. This place was probably a fishing outpost or some such, not that it matters.

Ah, but it does matter! Shan Eyfish cried, once again writing in his book. Learning that these people had the technology for fishing tells us so much about them. I wonder if there are more of these fishing posts further up the river. How much of their diet consisted of the fish?

Farien sat back from the now-completed fire, brushing his hands clean. I could do with some fresh fish in my diet, but I don’t think that river’s going to get wet again anytime soon. He sounded sad as he said it. Sighing, he pulled what food they had brought with them from the largest of his bags and set about preparing dinner for the group.

Singer thought their food smelled nice as it cooked and the others gathered round to eat it, but she felt no desire to eat any of it herself. She shook her head when they offered some to her. She felt plenty invigorated from the wind and sun throughout the day.

You truly aren’t hungry, Singer? We’ve been walking for hours, and you haven’t eaten anything since we met, Katherina asked, a concerned look flitting across her face.

Singer shook her head and sang a few notes with a smile. I’m okay, I don’t need that to keep going, she thought. She would drink the water they offered her, but that was all. She sat by the fire, enjoying the sound and heat of it. The temperature dropped as the sky grew darker, and they all huddled closer to the warm glow.

How long do you think it will take us to reach the Nameless City following the riverbed? Shan asked during a lull in the conversation.

Henith shrugged. Two or three days, maybe. Hard to tell. We could run into foul weather or other obstacles along the way, which could slow us down or even make us leave the river. Won’t know till we get there.

You expecting it to suddenly drop a blizzard on us out here? Farien asked with an incredulous look on his face.

The Guide glared at him and said nothing.

I’d expect dust storms are more what he’s worried about, the Historian explained calmly. From what I’ve read about them, a dust storm could stop us in our tracks for days. We’d be completely blind where we sat, too, since the dust would fill the air—

It’s worse living it than reading it, Historian, Henith grumbled in interruption.

Oh! I’m sure it is. But all I have to go on is other people’s accounts of it at the moment. I’m not a Guide, after all. My natural habitat is a desk in a library! Shan said with a laugh.

Hmph. Fat chance finding one of those out here.

The two continued to bicker for a while. Farien sighed and stood up.

All this talk of storms doesn’t make me feel any warmer. My Lady Katherina, what say you to a bit of sparring?

A fine idea! Katherina sprang up and pulled her rapier from her belt in one fluid motion. Yes, we really ought to spar every day. We must keep our swords sharp and our skills sharper!

The two Fencers moved further into the little house, away from the fire in the doorway, and began a complicated dance. Their shadows danced, as well, creating a scene high on the walls unlike anything Singer had ever seen before. Her gasp of wonder shimmered like the firelight on the two swords.

Give us a song, Singer, Katherina panted in her exertion. Something to lend inspiration to our blades!

So Singer sang a song in time with the clashing of the swords. Even Henith seemed to smile at the spectacle.

Chapter 3

He awoke in a peaceful forest, great trees towering over him as he lay on the ground. Fallen leaves crackled and rustled whenever he moved, and twigs dug into his back and legs. The leaves on the trees that surrounded him formed a canopy, holding much of the smoke from his dying fire in a thin cloud far above his head. Sunlight filtered through the leaves and smoke to fall in streaks on his face. He grimaced and moved a hand up to block the light.

Good morning! came a voice from the opposite side of his fire. His grimace turned into a full scowl, and he turned to look at his unwanted companion.

Stop that noise, he said as she hummed cheerfully.

He had spent all of the past day and a half trying to get rid of her, ever since he’d met her in the forest. She was stubborn, though, and nothing he had said or done could convince her to just leave him alone. It looked like he was stuck with her, but that didn’t mean he had to endure her constant humming.

I said stop that, he growled, finally sitting up. What are you, a bird?

She laughed, a smile dancing across her face. I don’t think so. All the birds I’ve seen have feathers and wings. I’d like to be a bird, though.

He grumbled to himself and brushed dirt and leaves from his clothes. He wore a practical outfit, leather and cloth garments designed to protect him from the elements, not to be stylish. The only sentimental object he carried was the necklace his sister had given him when he left on his journey. She’d made him promise to return it to her, but he had seen in her eyes that she truly believed he would die in his foolish venture.

He didn’t care what any of them thought, not his family or the people in town who whispered that he was crazy. He was a Guide-in-training, and he knew he had to go to the Nameless City to prove himself. While his fellow trainees busied themselves tackling known places like the Fire Forest or the Stormed Castle, he, Clarkin, would earn his mastery unquestionably by finding his way in and out of the Nameless City. No one had ever made it to the center of that wasted place and come back to tell the tale. He would be the first. He could feel it.

But he didn’t need some girl following him there. Not only was she annoying beyond belief, she would surely die on the trek, and if that happened, he would fail the trial, even if he himself managed to make it to the center and back. The Guild of Guides would know that he had lost a follower, and he would never be allowed to act as a Guide.

Yes, it was much better to take your master’s trial alone, he thought.

I suppose you haven’t made breakfast again, he asked. She had neglected the chore yesterday, much to his displeasure.

No, but I refilled your water skins, she said, indicating them among his other travel items. The stream we passed yesterday evening was so beautiful and clear, I thought we should take some of its song with us.

Wonderful, he sighed.

He set about making something to eat, clenching his jaw as his companion resumed her humming.

Look, little bird, I really think we should go our separate ways today, he said around a mouthful of bread. I’m going someplace very dangerous, and I can’t be looking after you there.

She tilted her head curiously. Is that what you’re naming me?

Clarkin blinked. What?

Little Bird. I like it. She erupted in full-out singing, wordless notes flying free among the trees. The sound woke Clarkin more effectively than his breakfast had.

Stop, stop it! I’m not naming you anything, and Little Bird is a stupid name, anyway. Why don’t you tell me your real name?

I told you I had no name, and Little Bird is a beautiful name. You gave it to me, she added with a sly smile. And since you’ve named me, I couldn’t possibly part with you! Unless you decide not to go to the Nameless City after all, because I feel that I must go there.

Clarkin couldn’t believe how suddenly she could switch from bright and happy to somber and serious. She’d done it a few times during the last day and a half, mostly when he tried to make her leave. This was the first time she’d said anything about needing to go to the Nameless City, though.

What possible reason could you have to go to that place? Please tell me you’re not some long-lost princess looking to reclaim her kingdom. He didn’t think he could deal with that sort of over-done quest right now. His trial was too important to risk on such an idiotic princess adventure.

She looked thoughtful for a moment. I don’t think so, she answered finally, but wouldn’t that be fun?

Clarkin ran a hand over his face. No, it would be horrid. You can’t go to the Nameless City for no reason at all. You’ll die.

What about you? Aren’t you going for no reason?

Of course not. I have a Purpose. I told you about my trial.

Yes, but you could have chosen a less dangerous place to do it, right?

No, he said simply, crossing his arms.

Well, I have a Purpose, too, she said. I just don’t know what it is.

That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, Clarkin huffed.

I’m sure I’ll figure out what my Purpose is once I get there. Even now I can feel the call of it.

Clarkin gave up. This girl was just someone he could not contend with. Maybe he’d be able to convince her to leave him alone later, but for now he had to begin the day’s traveling.

The eastern edge of the wasteland lay half a day’s march away. Getting that far was the easy part. Even traveling through the waste would be easy, so long as the weather behaved itself. The hard part, his real trial, would begin once he reached the city itself. For now, all he had to do was continue west until he hit the gray dust field.

He picked up his belongings and took care of the remains of his fire. These tasks finished, he strode westward briskly, as if he could startle the girl into staying behind with the abruptness of his actions.

He had no such luck, of course. The girl caught up with him in a few easy steps and trailed at his side, chirping an odd melody that was clearly intended to be an imitation of birdsong. He could feel a headache brewing.

The whole morning they walked through the forest, the girl skipping around the trees and Clarkin trying to ignore her. He pretended that she really was a bird and thought about what he would do when he returned home, triumphant. Of course he would bring home a modest amount of treasure from the legendary hoard in the center of the ruined city. Normally Guides didn’t give two fiddlemice for treasure in the places they explored, but a trial was different, and required that the trainee bring back proof of his successful journey. The treasure he brought back from this venture would naturally be enough to allow him to live comfortably for a few decades, at least, and would enable him to act as a Guide for hire only when he wanted to, not because he needed the money for bread.

The best part of the whole thing would be seeing the looks on everyone’s faces back in his boring little village. They’d done everything short of actually holding a funeral to declare him a dead man when he’d announced his intentions for his trial, and proving them all stupid would feel amazing. His sister would be the only one happy to be wrong about his untimely future demise, but that would be enough for Clarkin.

After skipping and laughing a few paces in front of him for hours, the girl suddenly stopped and fell quiet. With her silence, Clarkin could now hear the eerie quiet of the forest around them. Neither bird nor insect chirped, and no animals called out. Only the wind continued to create sound, and even it sounded almost mournful.

The girl knelt and scooped something off of the ground. Clarkin came up next to her to see what it was. She turned to him and let the gray, ash-like dust run from her hand. He was startled to see her eyes full of tears.

Something terrible has happened here, she whispered.

Clarkin nodded. We’ve reached the edge of the wasteland that surrounds the Nameless City. Look. He pointed ahead.

In just a few yards the great trees shrank and withered. What few plants remained out there looked twisted and sickly. Further out, grass and dirt were completely replaced with the dull grayness of the wind-formed dunes. Even here where Clarkin and the girl stood, still surrounded by full trees and flourishing life, the dust encroached, covering leaves in a thin, silvery film and piling up on the ground.

I don’t understand, the girl said, spreading her hands helplessly. Why would anyone cause such destruction? How could they ruin this beautiful place?

No one knows, Clarkin said. All the legends can really say is that something big, loud, and destructive happened here. The first people to come investigate found it already like this.

Clarkin could feel himself becoming excited. Here he stood, on the brink of the unknown (well, almost. The wasteland was somewhat known). He would succeed where everyone else had failed. He would find the answers Adventurers and Historians had been seeking for centuries. Maybe he’d even charge them for interviews whenever they wanted to write books about his grand discoveries.

The girl stood, brushing the dust from her hands and clothes, then rubbed her eyes clear of tears. "That is not acceptable. We must find out how it happened, and then we must fix it."

Clarkin almost choked trying not to outright laugh at her. I don’t think this can be fixed, girl.

Little Bird, she reminded him sternly. Her eyes flashed as she glared at him.

Clarkin almost took a step away from her. He’d seen her ridiculously happy, and he’d seen her inexplicably depressed, but he’d never seen her angry. Her intensity actually frightened him.

She was glowing. The light was faint, washed out a bit by the midday sun, but he could still make it out. She stood firm, fists balled at her sides, and continued to stare at him.

"I know you do not want me accompanying you on your trial, but I am going to the Nameless City, and I am going to fix this."

Maybe she can take care of herself, he thought.

All right, he said with a bit of an exasperated sigh. All right, just stop that. The glowing thing is creeping me out.

She took a deep breath and the glow faded. I am sorry, Clarkin. I didn’t mean to frighten you. It’s just that I have to—

You have to go to the city, I know, you’ve said, Clarkin interrupted. Fine, you can come along.

In another whirlwind of emotion, the girl beamed a smile and threw her arms around him with a musical laugh.

Thank you, thank you! she cried, turning it into a song at the end.

Clarkin allowed her to hug him for a moment, then pried her off with a grumble. "But you have to stop that constant humming, and you are not allowed to die."

Chapter 4

The next day saw the odd band of travelers cover almost ten miles of dust. Katherina had insisted they stop for a proper luncheon at midday, which nearly caused the Guide to stop speaking to her at all. They stopped anyway and felt better for having taken a rest.

Henith went to great lengths that evening at camp to show how annoyed he was at not making the full ten miles, grumbling and sitting away from the others, but since he always acted like that, no one noticed his particular distress.

In the morning, Katherina pledged that they would reach the Nameless City that day.

We can see the city walls quite clearly, after all. One more day ought to get us there, she said, nodding to herself.

Only so long as we don’t stroll our way there, Henith said.

The groups of ruined buildings grew bigger and more numerous the closer they got to the city. This meant they had ample shelter to pick from if they needed it. They could also use the ruined villages to navigate and mark their passage through the waste. Singer felt that if they’d had only the looming city to guide them, the trek would have felt much more sluggish. Among these benefits, though, the villages they passed provided a constant distraction for the Historian.

"This is an excellent opportunity to study the Nameless People. We must stop and examine the dwellings, if just for a moment!" Shan cried.

Farien grabbed his arm. Look, Historian. Lady Katherina has said we will reach the city today, and that means we can’t stop for you to scribble in your book. You can examine them on the way back home.

Singer still didn’t know why Farien had come along on this journey. The only thing he seemed to do was agree with Katherina or jump to defend her against perceived slights. He had told Singer the other night that he was rapturously in love with their leader, but Singer couldn’t tell if she saw it in him.

She looked at their surroundings as they tramped onward, watching the piles of stone float past them. The wind picked up a bit by late morning, and it made the dust move over itself in a way that mimicked waves on a lake. Singer pretended the buildings were boats, perhaps anchored in order to relax and fish. She smiled at the thought, but then realized that these boats had no captain or crew and that they simply listed, directionless on this wide, empty sea of dust. Even with a group of companions as lively as hers, Singer still felt the oppressive loneliness of the wasteland.

Following the Guide’s directions today, they stopped for a brief meal, during which they barely even sat. They moved on quickly, but Singer still heard Shan muttering to himself about examinations and historical importance.

In the end it took them until sunset to reach the walls of the city. The air grew chillier as the light faded, and they rushed to find a place to rest for the night. Henith selected a two-story building, which he deemed stable enough to be safe. One corner of the top floor had collapsed, but that didn’t stop Katherina and Farien from bounding up the steps for a look. Singer followed at a more cautious pace.

Isn’t this fantastic? Katherina said, leaning far over the edge of the pile of rubble she’d climbed. This place is almost beautiful at sunset, all gold. It’s like the sun is trying to show us how much treasure we’ll find in the city.

The wind pulled at her cape and twisted it out in front of her. Katherina always knew which pose would make her look the most striking.

Singer crawled up the rocks to join them, still a little afraid of falling. Farien offered her a hand up when she reached them. Once she felt steady, she turned her attention out the wall.

The sun had indeed splashed glittering gold on the dust, just as it had the past two nights. The wind still made its wave effect on the dunes.

It really looks like a wide river, rushing past us on this little island, Singer thought. I wonder if the waves will sweep us away with them.

The image was so vivid that Singer felt a little bit seasick. She crouched low in the rocks and held on tightly with both hands.

Aah, she warbled.

Katherina knelt beside her and put a hand on her back. Does the height frighten you, Singer? Don’t worry. This isn’t so high as to cause us harm if we do fall, but this pile seems pretty stable to me.

Singer found herself in disagreement with the Fencer, so she stayed in her crouching position.

Katherina raised her fist in a defiant gesture. Tomorrow! Tomorrow, my little band and I will see what you have hidden behind your walls, O City!

Is that where we’ll go in? Farien asked, pointing to the place where the old riverbed met the stone face of the city wall.

We shall ask our dear Guide, but I am sure it will be. If the river flowed through the city, there must be some hole we can get through now.

Singer tried to make out some detail of the place, or even of the Nameless City itself, rising above the top of its surrounding wall, but the setting sun turned it all into a black blot. She climbed down soon after and went to help Shan prepare dinner for the others.

Katherina and Farien sparred again that evening. They never aimed to hurt one another during these practice bouts. Katherina always won, and at first Singer thought that Farien was letting her win. Katherina’s great skill showed, though, and she would stand over him after each bout, still as composed and pristine as ever, while he panted and wheezed and sweated from the futile effort he had put forth. He never complained about his losing streak, and surprisingly, Katherina never gloated. Instead, she asked him what mistakes he thought he had made and gave him tips for improvement.

Singer had come to enjoy watching their ritual at night, and would often add encouraging notes in harmony with their ringing swords. She couldn’t manage to give her full attention to it tonight, though. With the Nameless City lying so close at hand now, the pull to go there that she had felt in the forest returned, just as strong now as it was then. It had faded to almost nothing as she traveled through the waste with her companions, and she had forgotten about it yesterday. Now that they had reached the wall, she could almost hear that pull saying "Come now, come now, come now."

The two Fencers finished up their night’s exercise and the whole group went to bed.

"In the morning we take that city," Katherina mumbled. She still managed to sound forceful even as she drifted off to sleep.

Singer tried to follow her companions to rest, but the more she tried, the more awake she became. She turned over in her blankets, spares from Farien, who had brought too many, and stared through the open doorway at the city.

I’m coming, she thought, trying to quell the need to push on to the city. I’m coming, but now it’s time to rest. Henith says so.

She turned to look at the stars. No clouds floated across the sky, and their fire had burned down to warm coals, so she had a clear view of them in their twinkling multitudes. Too many of them shone up there to count, even just in the small patch of sky Singer could see, but she tried anyway. She kept losing count, and finally drifted off to sleep at around fifty-eight in her third attempt.

In the morning she awoke first, but Henith followed only a few minutes later. Together, they roused the others, and everyone helped to break camp as they ate their breakfast.

Time to go? Katherina asked. Thick excitement rolled off of her.

Ah, Singer sang slowly. She was excited, too, but not in the same way as the Fencer.

Shan Eyfish chuckled and gracefully slung his pack over his shoulder. Don’t be nervous, Singer. Henith and Lady Katherina will see us through this quest as safely as can be. He walked over to Singer and put a hand on her shoulder with a smile. All you and I have to do is let them do all the hard work. We’ll be free to catalogue and record to our hearts’ desire, and you can sing and dance the whole way through! Why, this will be no more than a pleasure-stroll for the two of us!

Ah, ah, Singer said with a giggle. She felt better.

Don’t tell the girl things like that, Henith said. You have no idea how dangerous this will become once we get inside that wall.

Oh, pish. Don’t listen to him, Singer. He’s just grumpy because he has to do all the work.

The walk to the place where the river met the wall took just twenty minutes. As Singer looked around, she thought that the dust desert looked the prettiest it ever had. Maybe it wants to convince us to stay out here, she thought. She wouldn’t blame it. The desert was the loneliest place she had ever been, never mind that she had never been anywhere else.

As the group approached the wall, they could see that they had a problem.

What is that? Farien asked.

Flood gate of some kind, looks like, the Guide grunted.

Everyone looked at the large door-like section of the wall. The upper half of the rectangular plane gleamed in the morning sun, its surface unmarred by time or the elements. An intricate design was carved on it, and dust had piled up in its crevices, but no scratch or abrasion hid the image. Singer wanted to cry at the sight, but didn’t know the reason. Seeing this gate in such beautiful condition made her happy, but it also made her wish she could see the rest of this wasteland as it used to be.

The bottom half, which would have been submerged when the river still flowed, looked more like the rest of the structures in the waste, broken and crumbling. Vertical slats of the material from the upper half came all the way down to the bottom, but between them a dark mass of mesh grating, rock, and dust filled in the gaps. On both the near and far sides, a large spiked wheel sat perpendicular to the gate, the spikes digging into their slots on the gate itself. These wheels were both in the same condition as the top half of the gate, and constructed of the same material.

About a third of the way up the top half, a metal bridge still climbed across the dry riverbed. The dark color of tarnish splashed across it in patches, and one section had completely fallen into the ravine. A metal stairway connected it to solid ground on either side.

Farien stared at the gate with his mouth open. It’s so shiny. It looks new, he said.

The Historian, unable to contain his excitement any longer, bounced on the balls of his feet while he spoke. It is constructed from Calthenite, a wholly indestructible substance! That these people had access, understanding, and technology to build such a structure from it is absolutely astounding! Calthenite is an alloy made from iron and the extremely rare metal Calthe Silver, which is only found in—

None of us here cares to hear about where it comes from or how it’s made, the Guide said, putting a hand up in a sign