Song of the Sea Spirit: An epic fantasy novel (The Mindstream Chronicles) Read Free Page B

south-facing window and smiled. “Ah. Gunnar’s eyes. Ha! I should’ve known.”
    Jora’s six-year-old twin nephews went running past Gunnar and Boden, followed by a red-faced girl of about twelve. “Come back here or else,” she hollered.
    “Leave them,” Jora called to the girl. “My nephews are old enough to accept the consequences for arriving late to class.”
    The two boys stopped short and looked at her with surprise in their matching faces, as if the notion that being late to school having consequences had never occurred to them.
    “And if they don’t get to class on time from this day forward,” Gunnar said, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face, “they’ll wish they’d been born girls.”
    When the boys broke into a run, headed directly toward the schoolrooms, Jora and Tearna both laughed.
    “No wonder he has such a tough reputation among the boys,” Tearna said. “He instills it early.”
    Gunnar walked toward the smithy, a pleasant smile replacing the scowl.
    “Shh! Here he comes,” Jora said. “I wonder what he wants.”
    “You,” Tearna said. “Go talk to him.” Then she busied herself with firing up the forge, leaving Jora to speak with Gunnar alone.
    “Good morning,” Jora said in a pleasant tone. Her heartbeat quickened with every step of his approach. She couldn’t help but admire his smooth gait and the way his broad shoulders glided evenly through the air, despite his slight limp.
    “And good morning to you, dear Jora.” He stood a half-step closer to her than a man normally did when conversing with an unmarried woman, perhaps a query as to how far into her personal space she would allow him. “Did you not sleep well?”
    She shook her head. “I stayed up all night to work on Boden’s departure gift.” Her throat felt unnaturally thick, and she swallowed in an attempt to normalize her voice. “Perhaps I can sneak away for a nap later.”
    “Would you sit with me a minute? The boys are beginning their lessons under your brother’s expert guidance.”
    She looked around quickly and spotted a bench outside the tailoring workshop. “How about there?”
    They took a seat on the bench, their bodies angled toward each other, knees nearly touching. “What’s that you have?” Gunnar asked, his deep voice so gentle, it raised goosebumps on her arms. What would it be like to hear him murmur her name late at night?
    She swallowed down her nervousness and stroked the flute’s smooth wood. “A flute. Boden gave it to me earlier this morning. I’ll have to learn to play it in private so I don’t annoy people with my mistakes.”
    “I see. You and Boden are...”
    “Just friends,” she said quickly. “In fact, he’s more of a brother to me than Loel is.” She remembered a day when Boden boldly stood up to older and bigger children who’d been teasing her about being a freak while Loel and their elder brother Finn looked on.
    “You’ll miss him,” Gunnar said quietly.
    She nodded, lowering her gaze. “Of course. And worry.” Of course, her own anxiety was nothing compared to the pain and fear that must have gripped Gunnar’s heart and Anika’s. “I can’t imagine the pain and fear parents must endure while their sons are away fighting. Do you think the war might finally end in our lifetime?”
    He slumped his shoulders as if in defeat. “I fear we’ve forgotten how to live any other way. I’m about to send my son into a war to defend a damned tree. It seems so senseless to me now, especially considering...” He shook his head. “When I was Boden’s age, I was as excited and proud to do my duty for Serocia as he is, but fifteen years of fighting leads a man to question things.”
    “What kinds of things?”
    He met her gaze, and the sun peeked above the roof of a building to shine his eyes like they were liquid silver. “How can we possibly serve the greater good by killing?”
    Jora had no answer. She was technically still a girl in the eyes of her