Free Song of Blood & Stone (Earthsinger Chronicles Book 1) by L. Penelope

surge fueling Jack was beginning to wane. Each injury pulsed again with renewed strength. He released Jasminda gently, leaving her staring almost catatonically at the house. Wargi hovered over the two remaining soldiers he’d laid out on the ground. Neither man appeared to be breathing. With great effort, Jack knelt and felt for a pulse on each. Scared eyes regarded him from behind round spectacles. Jack shook his head, and the boy’s mouth quivered.
    “Head east,” Jack said. “Go home. Find the path you took to get here. Do you remember the red rocks?”
    Wargi nodded and stumbled away into the darkness. Jack hoped the boy would be able to find his way back through the Mantle, but he’d done all he could. He turned to Jasminda, but she was gone. A rush of panic swept over him. She was so distraught, at first he feared she may have run back into the burning house, the way husbands to the north in Udland threw themselves on the funeral pyres of their dead wives. He quickly discarded that idea; she was devastated, yes, but far too strong of spirit for that.
    He found her in the barn, standing over the goats that slept on the floor, nestled together in groups of threes and fours. The barn was far enough away from the house that he did not think it would catch fire.
    He sagged against the doorframe, every ache and pain making itself known. When he would have collapsed indecorously into a heap, a sickening smell assaulted his nostrils.
    “Where is that perfume coming from?” Jasminda asked, glancing around.
    “Sweet Sovereign’s slumber,” he said under his breath. “Cover your nose and mouth! Quick!”
    Jasminda’s brow furrowed, but his frantic words had the desired effect. She wrapped a scarf over the lower half of her face as Jack pulled a rag down from a peg and did the same. The rag smelled strongly of kerosene, but he ignored it.
    “What’s wrong?” she asked as he pulled her away from the barn.
    “Palmsalt.”
    She froze, her eyes wide, then turned and ran back toward the barn.
    “Jasminda!”
    “The goats,” she called over her shoulder. Jack rushed after her.
    The dead soldiers must have had palmsalt in quite a large quantity among their things, and it was now burning and spreading through the air. The possibility had never crossed Jack’s mind. This was technically peacetime and the substance had only one use. The mineral was mined in Lagrimar and found alongside their iron deposits. Once ground into a powder, it was added to grenades and bombs that, when ignited, created a cloying, sweet aroma that many found pleasant. Right up until their lungs shut down.
    The gas would spread quickly, and if they breathed much more of it, they would soon be dead. As would the goats Jasminda was shoving noisily out of the barn and into the night.
    “We need to go,” he said, grabbing her arm. She gave one of the little beasts a kick to the backside, then nodded and followed him out.
    He tried to inhale as little as possible, but breathing was a sad necessity. His movements were far slower than he would’ve liked, and the wind was changing, the breeze bringing more of the gas their way.
    He limped along, matching her swift pace as best he could down a path through the expansive gardens. She dashed off to retrieve a thick branch from beneath a tree and handed it to him. He accepted the walking stick gratefully. His shoulder and abdomen were ablaze with pain, each breath a struggle. But each breath no longer held the nauseating mix of oil and palmsalt.
    They had walked nearly a thousand metres. “I think we are clear of the gas,” he said.
    She shook her head in disagreement. “I’m singing a barrier for us, just around our heads. The palmsalt is spreading through the valley. Bloody wind. We’ll have to get to higher ground.”
    He hadn’t felt the telltale murmur of Earthsong. Then again, she wasn’t directly affecting his body. The mountain was clearly still in the throes of the storm, thick clouds