A Heart So Fierce and Broken

by Brigid Kemmerer

  Last night, Lia Mara said I was leading. She’s wrong. I feel as though I’m flailing. Even when I was guard commander, I had a regimented set of duties. I had a plan. A chain of command. The prince gave orders, and I followed them.

  Now, I have nothing. I have myself. Syhl Shallow might be the right destination—or it may very well be the wrong one.

  Despite everything that has happened, I long for Rhen’s counsel. A near-eternity trapped by the curse meant that I knew what to expect from him, and he from me.

  Rhen, I think. What would you do?

  He would not ally with Syhl Shallow. I know that much.

  I sigh, dropping to sit against a tree. My eyes sting from the water in the creek, so I rub at them. Exhaustion begs me to leave them closed, so I do, just for a moment. My hand falls into my lap.

  “Yeah, I knew you were tired.”

  I startle awake, my hands scrabbling through dirt and undergrowth for a weapon before I realize it’s only Jacob. The sky at his back has turned purple, the sun a sliver to our west, peeking over the mountain ranges. I’m disoriented and panicked for a moment, but his expression isn’t troubled, and all is quiet. The scent of our cooking fire wakes my belly with a vengeance. I don’t even remember falling asleep.

  I drag a hand across my face. “How much time has passed?”

  “Not enough. Here.” He holds out a steel bowl. “Eat while it’s hot.”

  I take the bowl, and it’s warm, filled with shredded meat, a hunk of melting cheese, and a heel of bread that we brought from Blind Hollow. My clothes are still damp, but hunger is more pressing, so I draw my legs up to sit cross-legged, then dip the bread into the food. I should likely thank him, but I don’t. My mood still feels prickly and bitter, and I need no reminding of the way Jacob held me under the water.

  When he drops to sit in the leaves across from me, his own bowl in his lap, my fingers go still. I glance up. “I am better rested now,” I say darkly.

  He scoops up meat and cheese on the corner of his bread. “Is that your way of saying you’re going to kick my ass? Shut up and eat your food.”

  The words are easy, lacking venom. Not repentant, but close. We’re a good distance from the fire, and it puts his eyes in shadow. I sigh and lift the bread to my mouth. We eat in silence for the longest time, until the sharp edges of my thoughts soften into something less volatile.

  Jacob eventually sets his bowl aside, then pulls a cork from a bottle I didn’t realize he’d carried. He holds it out to me first.

  I hesitate, then shake my head.

  He takes a long swig, then says, “This is why I like you better than Rhen. He wouldn’t have sat here.”

  He’s right. Rhen’s pride wouldn’t have allowed it. I use the remnants of my bread to scrape the last bit of cheese from the bowl. “Don’t worry. I’ll kill you when I’m done eating.”

  He smiles, but it’s brief and flickers out. “You gave me hell on the road from Rillisk to Ironrose, telling me I was pushing the guardsmen too hard. You were doing the same thing.”

  “You were rushing needlessly. I’m trying to keep us alive.”

  “So am I.”

  My hands go still again, and I look up at him.

  Jacob’s expression doesn’t change. “You might have noticed that last night.”

  When he saved my life. I scowl. “You just need me alive to get you home.”

  He swears and takes another draw from the bottle, then gives a humorless laugh. “Wow.”

  I frown and say nothing.

  “You don’t trust anyone at all,” he says, “and I think that, more than anything, is what’s going to bring you down.”

  “That is not true.”

  “It is true. You didn’t trust Rhen enough to tell him who you are. You don’t trust Lia Mara enough to fully commit to taking sanctuary in Syhl Shallow. I just watched you run yourself into the ground because you didn’t trust the town to keep you safe—and I have a feeling I’m going to watch it again and again until Dustan puts a sword through your back.”

  “We were putting the town at risk—”

  “Whatever. They drove those guardsmen out of there. They would have done it again. We could be sleeping in a bed right now instead of sitting in the leaves.” He pauses, and his eyes are like fire. “You don’t trust me enough to listen when I say people need to rest. You don’t trust me even though I jumped into a battle to save your life.”

  I’m not sure what to say.

  “You keep treating me like this bumbling idiot,” he snaps, “but I’m not reckless, and I’m not weak. I held my own in DC before we ever came here, and I can hold my own in Emberfall. I got your ass out of Ironrose after Rhen tore you and Tycho apart. And I didn’t just save you last night. I killed one of Rhen’s guardsmen. I put my neck on the line. I’m ready to ride into enemy territory with you. You think this is all on the off chance that you might one day be able to get us home? Are you kidding me?”

  “Jacob—”

  “I’m not done. I know you spent like four billion years trapped in that castle with no one but Rhen, and I won’t even tell you what Noah thinks that must have done to your mental state, but—” He breaks off and makes a frustrated noise. “He wasn’t your friend, Grey. He had an eternity to be your friend, and he wasn’t. Even when you were dragged back to that castle, even after everything, he treated you like a criminal.”

  “Rhen is protecting his kingdom.”

  “You’re not his guardsman anymore. You owe him nothing. Stop acting like you do.” I flinch. He takes a swig from the bottle again and sighs. “You saved Noah’s life last night, Grey. You saved mine. I might have made you swear an oath to me, but we’ve moved way past that.”

  I didn’t realize.

  I should have.

  “Forgive me—” I begin.

  “Oh, shut up. Here.” Jacob holds out the bottle. The amber liquor swirls and glitters in the light from the distant fire.

  I inhale to refuse, but I am struck by his words. You’re not a guardsman anymore.

  I seize the bottle and upend it, swallowing fire.

  Jake snorts. “Okay, take it easy, tiger.”

  I cough and hand it back. “That tastes terrible.”

  “I know. It’s fantastic. That Eowen guy said it was the best he had.” Jacob takes a long swallow himself. “More?”

  I should refuse.

  I don’t. This sip burns as much as the first. My thoughts feel loose and scattered already.

  Jacob is watching me. “I’m surprised you and Rhen weren’t lit every day of that curse.”

  “He was. On occasion.” On the last night of the final season, Rhen and I shared a bottle of sugared spirits and toasted our failures. He encouraged me to escape the curse, to find a new life away from Ironrose.

  He was trying to protect me.

  I have long thought we should have been friends, Grey. That’s what he said the day I was dragged back to the castle.

  He flayed my back open the next day. Out of fear of the unknown.

  He had an eternity to be your friend, Jacob said.

  Suddenly I want to drain this whole bottle. For that reason alone, I shove the cork back in. “We will reach Syhl Shallow in a day’s time,” I say, and my voice has gone husky.

  “That’s what Iisak said, too.”

  “Lia Mara claims she can assure our safety, but I would like to offer the illusion of strength all the same.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Perhaps you should ride at my side.”

  “Like a servant?”

  “No.” I pause. This feels like it might be a bad idea, but my ability to care is quickly vanishing. “Like a second-in-command.”

  He pulls the cork free and takes a swallow. “I’m not like you. I can’t be like you were to Rhen.”

  No. He can’t. He might not be reckless and weak, but he is headstrong and impulsive.

  Maybe that’s not a bad thing.

  Jacob is studying me
. “Or are you just trying to do the same thing Rhen did?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Are you trying to fake it?” His expression darkens. “Are you asking me to sit on a horse and look like hired muscle?”

  I hesitate.

  He rolls his eyes and goes to take another drink from the bottle.

  I reach out and pull it away from him. We’re both a bit drunk now, and my words feel fuzzy and a little more honest than I’m ready for. “Would you be able to do it without faking it?”

  His eyes meet mine, and I think he’s going to be flippant and defiant about this, the way he is about most everything.

  Instead, he says, “Yeah. I could.”

  “Taking orders requires trust, Jacob. You would have to trust me.”

  “Like … not try to drown you?”

  I lift my eyes skyward. “Forget I asked.”

  “No. I can do that.” He pauses. “If you can trust me when I say you’re wrong.” He draws back his sleeve, where more than a dozen stitches lace up the skin of his wrist. “Instead of doing this.”

  My eyes widen. “You have my word.”

  He puts out a hand. “Deal.”

  I clasp it. “I may regret this when I’m sober.”

  “Yeah, same.” He tries to jerk the bottle back from me.

  “Enough.” I hold fast. “We are still in danger, Jacob.”

  “Fine.” He sighs and lets go. “And, look. If we’re going to be friends, you’re going to have to start calling me Jake.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  LIA MARA

  For the first time in days, the mood among our traveling party carries little tension. I’m playing cards with Noah and Tycho and Iisak, though the scraver seems more focused on the distant conversation between Jake and Grey.

  “Can you hear them?” I say softly.

  He gives a short nod, then lays a card on the pile between us.

  “You shouldn’t eavesdrop,” says Noah. He adds another card.

  “I cannot help what I am,” says Iisak.

  “Are they going to kill each other?” says Tycho, and his voice says he’s not entirely joking.

  “No,” says Iisak. He pauses and surveys the cards in his hand. “The young prince is wise.”

  I glance over at where the young men are speaking, but they’ve already risen and are approaching the fire. I quickly look back at my cards.

  “Your Highness,” says Iisak. “Join us.”

  “I’ve told you to stop calling me that,” Grey says, but his voice holds no rancor. He eases to the ground beside me unsteadily, then rubs at his eyes.

  Jake trails his fingers across Noah’s shoulder and says, “I’m going to crash for a few hours.”

  “Crash?” I echo.

  Jake grins. “Sleep.” Noah’s hand comes up to cover his for a brief moment, then lets go. Jake disappears into the darkness.

  I watch him go, very conscious of Grey at my side. I’ve been worried about him since the fight with Jake—no. In truth, since we rode out of Blind Hollow.

  “You didn’t kill each other,” says Tycho.

  “Not yet,” Grey drawls.

  “Jake is a good guy,” says Noah. He rearranges the cards in his hand, then adds one to the growing pile.

  Grey makes a noncommittal sound. “I have asked him to ride at my side when we enter Syhl Shallow.”

  Noah looks up. “Really.”

  Grey nods. “We will need a show of strength if we can manage it.”

  I look across at Iisak, meeting his coal-black eyes. Now I understand what he meant about the prince being wise.

  Tycho has gone still beside Noah. I can read the emotions as they cross his face, as easily as words on a page.

  I would have ridden at your side.

  But you do not think I am strong enough to offer a show of strength.

  Tycho recovers quickly, then lays down his cards. “I believe I will crash too.” He uncurls from the ground.

  Grey is no fool. “Tycho.”

  Tycho stops. Waits. The firelight flickers off his eyes.

  “This is not a slight,” says Grey.

  “I know.” He slips into the shadows effortlessly.

  Grey watches him go, then sighs. “Silver hell.” I think he might go after Tycho, but he puts out a hand. “I’ll take his cards.”

  We play in silence for the longest time, the fire crackling beside us.

  “Tycho is young,” Grey says eventually, his voice very quiet, “and small for his age—”

  “Like I said, he would follow you off a cliff,” says Noah.

  Grey sighs again.

  “Tycho would have kept riding today,” I say. Even I know Jake was right. I might not agree with his means, but I could see Grey’s exhaustion all morning. He still looks sleepy, his eyes heavy-lidded.

  “Jake is a good choice,” says Iisak, his voice bringing a cold breeze to make the fire gutter. “Karis Luran respects strength.”

  Grey glances at me. “What else does she respect?”

  I blush and look down at my cards. “Strength and virility. She says she chose my father because he had the most kills in battle. He is quite a powerful general in the northern part of Syhl Shallow.” I don’t like to think about his prowess on the battlefield, to wonder if I would have been a disappointment to both a father and a mother. It’s bad enough to be a disappointment to one.

  “He does not rule at her side?”

  “Oh, no. He has no place in the palace. I do not even know him. She merely chose him to father her firstborn. She chose another when she desired to have another child.”

  No one says anything, and I look up from my cards to discover I have everyone’s attention.

  “You don’t marry in Syhl Shallow?” says Noah.

  “Oh. Some do. But the queen can choose her … her mate.” My cheeks turn pink. “A queen needs no king to stand at her side.”

  “But she was willing to marry your sister to Rhen,” says Grey.

  “She’ll marry Nolla Verin to you, too, if you’ll claim the throne.”

  Grey says nothing, and I don’t have the courage to look at him. I remember his quiet voice in the inn last night. I am not refusing blindly.

  My cheeks feel warm again, my blush fed by his silence. I can feel the weight of his eyes.

  “In truth,” I say, “I do not understand following the lineage of kings, when it is the woman who bears the child. And what should birth order have to do with whether someone is fit to rule?”

  Grey plays a card. “Here, we believe in fate. That is why the firstborn is considered heir. Because fate delivered that child into the world first.” He glances at me. “And the mother may bear the child, but she did not put it there herself.”

  “So fate chooses your heir,” I say. “You leave such a thing up to chance?”

  “How is that any different from leaving the choice up to one individual?” He flips a card onto the pile and misses by a few inches.

  I study him more closely. “Grey—are you unwell?”

  Noah chuckles. “At least Jake had the sense to go lie down.”

  Grey clenches his eyes shut. “I told you I had no head for spirits.”

  My eyebrows go way up. Now I understand the slow drawl of his words. “You’re drunk?”

  He rubs at his eyes. “Perhaps a bit.”

  Noah’s still smiling. “Jake’s pretty smooth.” He looks at Iisak. “What about your people? Do you have a king or a queen?”

  “We have one ruler,” the scraver says, and the breeze that sweeps among us is so cold that it makes me shiver. “Though I have been gone so long I no longer know who holds power.” His eyes shift to me. “Your mother may know.”

  “What will she demand of you?” I say. “For breaking the treaty.”

  “Likely more than I will be willing to give.”

  I think of my mother, and I know he is not wrong. When he asked for the right to accompany us into Syhl Shallow, he said Mother holds s
omething of great value to him.

  Iisak lays another card on the pile. Frost tips the corners, melting into the leaves below. “I will pay whatever price she demands and return home.”

  I can’t tell if the note in his voice is longing or disappointment—or both. “What does she have?” I say quietly.

  “Something quite dear to me.” He pauses. “I did not want to leave the ice forests. The scravers are not great in number, and our females can only bear one child in their lifetime. When the magesmiths were destroyed, we were left vulnerable. The treaty with Syhl Shallow gave us some protection. To break it puts all at risk.”

  “It must have been very dear,” says Grey, “for you to risk all you did.”

  “I did not intend to be gone this long.” Iisak smiles ruefully, baring the edges of his fangs. “I did not intend to be captured.”

  “I saw you fight in Blind Hollow,” says Noah. “How did someone capture you?”

  “A bit of misplaced trust and a well-timed arrow.” He lifts his arm to trace a black stripe that must be a scar. The line disappears under his wing. He glances at me. “I will be very grateful for an intercession with your mother, Princess.”

  “Of course.” My cheeks warm, and I frown. “Though you should know that my mother rarely accepts my counsel. I may not be any ally at all, Iisak.”

  “Protecting her child should carry weight,” he says.

  I give a humorless laugh. “One would think.”

  “I would be greatly in your debt.”

  “I will do all I can,” I say, and mean it.

  Grey looks at me. “Your mother is a fool if she does not accept your counsel. I do not know your sister, but I find it hard to believe her wisdom and compassion surpasses yours.”

  Like earlier, his voice is a little too intent, his words a little too honest.

  “My mother does not value compassion,” I say.

  “Then she is a fool.”

  I laugh softly. “You said that already.”

  “Rhen should have listened to you. Negotiated with you. You would care for the people of Emberfall.”