A Heart So Fierce and Broken

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A Heart So Fierce and Broken Page 16

by Brigid Kemmerer


  She cannot even see the worst of it, but I know there are two lash marks that wrapped around my rib cage. One parallels a scar I earned fighting Rhen in monster form, which seems fitting somehow.

  She reaches out to touch my arm, her fingers warm and gentle.

  When she tries to turn me, I hold fast. “No.”

  Her eyes meet mine, and the pity there is almost worse than the humiliation of what happened. A moment of weighted tension hangs between us, broken only when Noah steps forward to take the saddlebag.

  “He needs to put a shirt on,” he says.

  That spurs her into action. “Um. Yes. Clothes! Here.” She unbuckles the bag and drags out a shirt.

  Simply sitting on the bench was painful, so I can imagine what moving my arms through sleeves will feel like.

  My imagination does not do it justice. Setting my body on fire would hurt less. Noah helps as best he can, but by the time the loose fabric slides down my back, I’m dizzy and sweating.

  Harper’s pitying glances are not helping.

  I ease onto the bench, because the alternative is collapsing at her feet. When I speak, my voice is rough. “I told you what he would do. I told you I would not fault him for it.”

  The words feel false as I speak them. Or … not false. Incomplete.

  I would not have faulted Rhen for doing this to me alone.

  Harper drops onto the bench beside me. I cannot meet her gaze.

  “I fault him for it,” she says quietly.

  “My lady,” says Zo, from near the horses. “If you wish to avoid detection, we should ride out soon.”

  “Not yet.” Harper reaches out to take my hand. “Grey.”

  I finally look at her. “I cannot take your pity.”

  She closes her fingers on mine before I can pull away. “I don’t pity you.” She studies me. “It was you, wasn’t it?” She pauses. “You’re the one with magic.”

  This is different from when Noah asked the same thing. Harper was trapped with us. She risked so much. The scar across her cheek is proof of that. The thought that I might have been able to fight Lilith in a different way is almost too much to bear.

  “Forgive me,” I say. “I did not know.”

  “You’re Rhen’s brother.” Her voice is so quiet. “All that time you were trapped together, and neither of you knew.”

  “It would have been worse to know,” I say. But as I say the words, I realize I don’t know if they’re true. I frown. “And clearly it does not matter, if he plans to send the Royal Guard after me.”

  “I … I wish you had told me. I wish you had told him.” Then she frowns, as if realizing how that would have played out. “I wish … I wish …”

  “I wished a lot of things,” I say, “while the curse held us captive. Wishing solves nothing.” I pause and glance at Zo again. “You cannot stay here. If you are found with me … it would force Rhen’s hand, and I do not like to think of what he might do.”

  Harper’s expression turns stony. “First, I’d like to see him try. Second, you flattened everyone in that courtyard—including him. He’s terrified of magic trapping him again.” She pauses. “He’s not going to come running after you without a strategy. I want to see if I can stop him before that happens.”

  She is so fierce. I am reminded of why everyone in Emberfall believes she has an army at her disposal.

  She won’t be able to stop Rhen, though. If he was willing to do what he did, he’s not going to stop now.

  The door at the back of the inn rattles. I expect the innkeeper or his wife, but instead, Tycho stumbles through. He’s shirtless and pale, his eyes a little wild.

  Jacob is right behind him, rubbing at his eyes. “See? I told you they were still here. Hey, Harp.”

  “Hey,” she says, but her eyes are on the boy. “Tycho. Here. Sit.”

  It’s not an order, but he bows his head and murmurs, “Yes, my lady,” before easing onto the bench as gingerly as I did.

  Harper gets a good look at his back and her steely eyes return to mine. Her jaw is clenched. “This is too far.”

  I do not challenge her. We all fall into silence. A breeze pulls a shiver out of Tycho.

  I need a plan. When I first ran from Ironrose months ago, I was injured, but not badly. No one was looking for me, so I was able to find work at Worwick’s.

  Now everyone will be looking for me. And likely Tycho, too.

  Neither of us is in any position to defend ourselves. Anyone who offers shelter will be at risk.

  “We need to run,” I say.

  Tycho looks at me. His eyes are clouded with pain and exhaustion, but hope flares when he hears my words. “Yes.”

  I shake my head. “I have nowhere for us to go.”

  At the edge of the building, motion flickers in the early-morning mist and shadows. A cloaked body steps around the corner.

  I stand. Zo draws her sword.

  “Be at ease.” Lia Mara draws back her hood. “I have somewhere for you to go.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  LIA MARA

  Less than twelve hours ago, I watched this man receive a lashing until it exposed the muscle of his back, and now he’s on his feet like he’s ready to face an army. He must have been fierce as a guardsman. He’s fierce now, even pale and unsteady in the cool quiet of the courtyard. The look in his eyes makes my heart skip and flutter until I’m unsure whether I should run or stand my ground or find a weapon.

  “What are you doing here?” he says, and only the whisper of strain in his voice reveals his weakness.

  “The same as you, I believe.”

  “You followed us.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “You were half dead. It was hardly challenging.”

  Princess Harper puts a hand on her guard’s arm. “Put up your sword,” she says quietly. To me, she says, “You have somewhere they can go?”

  “Of course. He would be welcome in Syhl Shallow.”

  “No,” says Grey.

  “I am offering sanctuary,” I say. “In a place where Prince Rhen cannot pursue you.”

  “So you are suggesting I trade one sovereign’s torture for another’s.”

  “Torture?” I nearly laugh out loud. “You are the rightful heir to Emberfall. My mother will not harm you.” Mother will probably line his pockets with silver and fill his ears with promises. Nolla Verin will take one look at his dark eyes and broad shoulders and fawn all over him.

  I should be happy—proud even—but the thought makes my stomach twinge.

  I take a step closer, and he tenses. I spread my hands. “You can barely stand. You said you have nowhere to go.” I glance at Princess Harper. “Whatever you believe of my mother and my people, I truly did come here in the hopes of bringing peace to both our countries. I would offer peace now.”

  Harper frowns, and she looks up at him. “Grey—you aren’t safe here.”

  “Syhl Shallow is several days’ ride from here.” He takes a slow breath. “And that is if we ride hard.”

  “Then we travel while we can,” I say, “and rest when you need.”

  “No,” says the man standing near the inn wall. I recognize him and the healer from the day they dragged Grey into the courtyard. Prince Jacob. His skin is tan from midsummer, his hair dark and curly like Harper’s.

  Harper swears under her breath and says, “Jake. Please.”

  “He’s sworn to me now. If he’s going anywhere, it’s up to me.”

  My eyes snap to Grey. “You are the crown prince and you swore your life to another?”

  “I didn’t swear my life. And I am not the crown prince.” Grey cuts a glance at Jacob. “I swore passage as soon as I am able. To return you to Disi, I need the bracelet gifted by the enchantress—and it was left in Rillisk when you arrested me.”

  Prince Jacob swears.

  “I told you it wouldn’t be easy,” says Noah. “I told you that when we first caught him.”

  “Tycho and I cannot return to Rillisk without being reco
gnized,” says Grey. “Rhen has likely sent guardsmen there already.”

  Harper’s expression is grim. “He has.”

  Jacob folds his arms. “Fine. Whatever. I’m still not sending him to another country where we might never see him again.”

  “You are all welcome to travel to Syhl Shallow,” I say. “I can guarantee your safety as well.”

  They go silent and stare at me.

  Wind cuts through the yard, pulling tendrils of hair from my cloak. “I came here seeking peace. I would like the opportunity to prove it.”

  No one says anything.

  Finally, Tycho says, “I heard that, in Syhl Shallow, the queen executes her prisoners, then eats their remains.”

  Now my hands form fists. “I heard that, in Emberfall, the crown prince beats innocent boys nearly to death for political gain. Ah, forgive me, I watched that with my own eyes.”

  Tycho flushes and looks away.

  Grey runs a hand across his jaw and sighs. “We will head northwest, toward the mountain pass.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “You agree?”

  “Not yet. But if Rhen is searching in Rillisk—if he suspects I will find allies and friends there—it makes sense to head in the opposite direction.” He levels me with his gaze. “Though he may be seeking you as well, and it’s no secret which way you’ll go. A princess from Syhl Shallow will find few friends in Emberfall.”

  “Then we’re well suited to help each other.”

  Jacob looks to Harper. “You should come with us.”

  “I need to go back.”

  “No!” he snaps. “This is too far, Harp. You know it’s too far. You wouldn’t come with me before, but you can come with me now.” He pauses. “We can finally go home.”

  She pales a shade, but she’s steadfast. “Jake—Rhen isn’t cruel. You didn’t see him last night—after—after you left—” Her voice breaks.

  “I don’t care,” says Jacob.

  She sniffs back her tears and straightens her back. “I care.” She pauses and glances at Grey. “And Rhen cares, too. Grey—he had no idea.”

  “He knows now,” says Grey. His voice is soft. “And still he sent soldiers to Rillisk.”

  “Please.” She glances at Jacob. “Please. What he did was horrible, but you have to understand—”

  “I understand we are at risk,” says Grey. “And time is not on our side.”

  “Come with us,” says Jacob.

  For a moment, Harper glances between him and Grey. Her eyes linger on Grey for a moment too long. “I’m sorry I didn’t stop him,” she says quietly.

  “A princess should not apologize—” he begins.

  “I should,” she says. “And a prince should.” She takes a step back. “I’ll do what I can. I promise.”

  After Harper leaves to return to Ironrose, we take the wagon. Jacob and Noah drive the horses, while a heavy length of canvas sheeting covers the back. Grey and Tycho both lie facedown on a thin layer of straw, speaking in low voices that I cannot make out over the creaks and rattles of the wagon—nor the steady beat of my pulse. I lie faceup near the side, my hands clasped over my abdomen, watching the canvas lighten as the sun finishes rising.

  My comfortable carriage ride with Nolla Verin a few short days ago feels more like a dream than a memory.

  I’ve been wondering what my sister thought when Parrish came back with my message. I’d like to think that she is hopeful for me—or at least worried for me.

  As we drive, I wonder about Princess Harper. Grey claimed there was nothing between them, but there is surely something. By helping him, she puts herself at risk. She puts her country at risk. Along with the missing military support promised by Disi, it creates more questions than I have answers for. I could understand if she hoped to ally with Grey as the rightful heir, but she would never send him away. Especially not with me. She must know my mother will seek to use Grey against Rhen, but she seemed desperate to see him safely away, no matter the potential cost.

  Eventually the wagon rattles to a stop, and we emerge in the middle of a forest so densely packed with trees and foliage that the sun fights to find us.

  Jacob is beginning to unhitch the horses, and Grey says, “Turn them loose. They bear the royal brand. We’ll have to go on foot.”

  “You want to walk to Syhl Shallow?”

  “I do not want to walk anywhere at all.” Grey looks up and around, blinking at the streaks of sunlight that peek between leaves. “We can find horses in the next city.” His eyes shift to Harper’s brother. “I would ask for your sword.”

  Jacob snorts. “Well, I would tell you no.”

  Grey takes a step closer to him. His wounds have seeped through his shirt to create a maze of pink and red lines across his back, and he moves stiffly. “Your life is not at stake. Mine is.”

  Jacob folds his arms, and his eyes turn flinty. “You can barely stand up straight. What are you going to do with it?”

  “Just give him the sword,” says Noah.

  “Okay, sure.” Jacob gives Grey an up-and-down glance. “If you can take it, you can have it.”

  Grey’s hand flies so quickly that I barely realize he’s moved until his fist cracks into Jacob’s jaw. I gasp as the other man starts to fall. Grey grabs the hilt and pulls the blade free before Jacob hits the ground.

  “Done.” Grey points the sword at his waist. “The belt as well.”

  Jacob pushes himself up on one arm and spits blood into the leaves. “I hate you.”

  Noah sighs and picks up a heavily laden satchel and swings it over his shoulder. His warm brown eyes look to me. “Lia Mara, is it? Let’s start walking. Come on, Tycho.”

  He turns. Compared to the other men, I appreciate his quiet, no-nonsense demeanor. I hurry to fall in step beside him. Tycho is a shadow at our back.

  “You don’t know where you’re going!” Jake calls from behind us.

  “I know which way northwest is,” Noah calls back. “I’m not stitching you up again, Grey.”

  “You said you took an oath. You have to stitch me up no matter what.” But leaves and underbrush crunch behind us, so I know they are following.

  For some reason, I expected that we would walk a short while before finding a town, but we trudge through the woods for hours. The terrain is rough and the going slow, so no one talks until I’m starving and Grey is limping and Tycho’s breathing is labored. The boy swipes sweat from his eyes, which are red, and I wonder if tears are mixed in.

  “Perhaps we should rest,” I say, and Tycho shoots me a grateful look.

  Grey casts a look around. “We’re less than five miles from the creek. We can camp there, then set out again after midnight.”

  Five miles. Now I want to cry. I shift to walk beside Tycho. His jaw is tight, and he’s forcing his legs to move.

  “Five miles won’t take long,” I say, and I’m partly trying to convince myself. “And a creek means water.”

  Grey must hear the encouraging note in my voice, because he looks over and catches a glimpse of Tycho’s expression. “If there were steamed crabs at the end, you’d be running for them,” he says.

  A weary grin breaks through Tycho’s melancholy. “I’d beat you there.”

  “Can we please not talk about food?” says Jacob.

  We all fall back into silence. Grey staggers as he steps over a fallen tree, but he catches himself with a hand against another trunk. He makes no sound, but it takes him a moment before he can press on.

  I’ve reached a point where I can’t tell if this is strength or stubbornness.

  “Can you not use magic to heal yourself?” I say to him. “I have heard stories of the magesmiths—”

  “I cannot use magic at all.”

  Tycho glances over. “You used magic to free us.” He pauses, then glances at me. “And—and at Worwick’s.”

  “At Worwick’s, I had an enchanted bracelet. At Ironrose …” He sighs. “I have no idea what happened at Ironrose.”

  “Ma
ybe we should beat the crap out of you again and see what happens,” says Jacob.

  Grey gives him a level look. “Try.”

  “Don’t joke about that,” Noah snaps.

  “Must you men make everything about violence?” I say. “Not every problem can be solved by the edge of a sword.”

  “Your mother surely thinks so.” Grey looks at me, and his eyes are hard. “Not every problem can be solved by the tongue in your mouth, either.”

  The words are not suggestive, but I flush anyway. Even wounded and limping, with sweat and blood sticking his shirt to his body, he is so unyielding. I miss the easy banter of Sorra and Parrish. Easy banter that I’ll never hear again, due to my choices. Due to their misplaced loyalty. I longed to be queen, but Mother made the right choice in naming Nolla Verin.

  My throat is tightening, so I shake these thoughts away before they can get the better of me. “I have offered to help you,” I say. “I am not your enemy.”

  “You are an enemy to Emberfall,” he says. “You are a threat to the Crown.”

  Now I see. This is the former guardsman speaking. I hold his gaze. “So are you.”

  He sets his jaw and says nothing.

  We hear the rush of water long before we see it flowing between trees at a rapid clip. The waterway is wider than I expect, at least twenty feet across, with occasional shallow pools where water has collected along the banks.

  Tycho all but drops to his knees in the muddy bank and thrusts his hands into the flowing water, scooping it to his lips.

  “We should boil it first,” says Noah, but the rest of us are already following suit.

  I don’t recognize my thirst until the cool water touches my lips. Even locked in my room at Ironrose Castle, I still had access to food and water. I cannot remember a time where I’ve gone all day without sustenance. I’m slurping from my hands like an animal, but I still can’t get enough.

  A hand closes on my arm. “Slow,” says Grey, and for the first time his voice isn’t harsh, only tired. “You’ll make yourself sick.”

  I wonder if this is an attempt to ease the tension between us, but when I look up, he’s already moving away. Jacob begins collecting branches to form a pile. I dry my hands on my breeches and follow him, gathering twigs and dried leaves for kindling. He glances at me in surprise. “Hey. Thanks.”

 

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