NOVEL NEXT Stoneshaper Prologue
The gusting breeze pulled at Lyra’s hair and tugged at the paper in her hand. She set her pen beside her on the mottled red and green egg-shaped stone, leaned into Peter’s chest, and stroked his side. “It’s still not right.”
“You’re too hard on yourself, my heart.”
“No. It’s good enough for the pub, but the magic’s not right.”
“You can’t expect to compose a piece to take down the Bard of Heim with a tune you wrote this morning.”
“I know I can take him…”
“He’s got, what, a zillion levels on you?”
“Levels? This isn’t Blue Warrior or another game; it’s real, and we don’t get to start again when we die. If we lose, we’ll have another eon of evil tyrants.”
Peter kissed her forehead, stood, and pulled her up beside him. “Come on, try it with this beat and backup.” He tapped a rhythmic, drum-like pattern on his arms, abs, and thighs. At the same time, his Baritone voice alternated between Ooh’s and Dum-dum-dum’s, accompanying Lyra’s vocals:
Upon a morning fair and bright at Pine Academy,
‘Twas there I played with joyous heart, ’til afternoon did see,
Young Billy took my first sweet kiss, and Andrew claimed my head,
The Riddere stole my freedom true; my innocence lay dead.
The private cut my garments loose, the sergeant sheared my hair,
Miss Rigdom ran to seek for aid, the captain brought despair,
For with his gun, he took the lives of Mother Dear and Dad,
Miss Rigdom told Professor Nocht a tale both grim and sad.
They fled with Sera, step by step, and always just ahead,
They found the house of three kind gods, where Lady Amelia said,
“Now be a family, sealed with love,” and opened magic true,
Through trials, many, glad and sad, our strength and bond then grew.
They rescued me and sister mine, through ventures fierce and bold,
One step ahead, they stayed the course, with courage uncontrolled.
Now bride of the Stoneshaper, with hands of fiery might,
And my sister brings us peace and calm, a beacon at night.
Now I sing our history, a tale both dark and fair,
Of battles fought and loved ones lost, of sorrow and despair.
Yet hope remains, though Heim draws near to claim our home and kin,
We’ll stand as one, with hearts of stone, and fight until we win.
Lyra stomped her feet and growled. “It’s so close! We’re at the edge of the magic. It’s like I’ve left out something important, or the story’s not done yet.”
Roland, the AI in her Family Bracelet, said, “The magic won’t work until you fix the perspective.”
“What? This is a song about my life.”
“That’s well and good for a bar of half-drunk dock workers,” said Roland, “but you’ll need a more powerful subject to take down the Bard of Heim.”
Peter huffed. “There’s nothing more important than Lyra.”
“No,” Lyra said as she kissed his cheek. “Roland never lies.”
“Then who should you be singing about?”
“My daddy, the Stoneshaper.”