Heartmender

by V. Romas Burton

  I took a few steps before tumbling over, giggling frantically on the ground as the man leaned over me and laughed wildly, clutching his sides. Once our amusement faded, he reached down and helped me back up.

  I stumbled against him, trying to find my footing. He placed his hands on my shoulders to try to steady me. I smiled, then felt a sharp pain, leading me to look down at the satchel. Something felt wrong. A harsher pain struck, and I cried out, bending over with my head in my hands.

  "Just breathe, honey," the man said, rubbing my back in soothing circles.

  I drew in a deep breath through my nose and immediately relaxed. My mind began to clear, and I took another breath for good measure. What was I thinking again?

  I gave the man an amused smile, which he returned. We wrapped our arms around each other once more and continued walking. After several strides, we arrived at a small wooden house surrounded by the green haze.

  Something about the house seemed strange. I wasn't sure if I should go in. I breathed in deeply. There was nothing to worry about. I would be fine.

  The man swayed to the door and opened it. "Come on in, honey."

  I gleefully wobbled through the doorway after him. The man immediately closed the door behind me and locked it. Alarm jolted through me, clearing my head for a moment. Where was I?

  Something pressed against my leg. What was it? I looked down. A bag? When did I start carrying a bag? What was inside? Why was . . . I breathed again.

  The man turned and gave me a droopy grin before taking my hand. He began pulling me down a wooden stairwell. I took another breath and followed him with a smile.

  The stairs gave painful creaks with each step we took. It was a miracle we made it to the basement without crashing through the staircase.

  The green haze was a thick sheet encasing the lower level of the house, prohibiting me from seeing anything.

  "Hey!" a voice from the fog yelled groggily. "Where have you been?"

  "Out," the man answered, slumping down onto something soft on the floor. Our fingers were still interlocked, so I landed on top of him, laughing wildly.

  He laughed, too. "You're funny, honey."

  "Funny honey!" another voice exclaimed through the fog.

  An eruption of chaotic laughter sounded from the fog, sending my senses on alert once more as I whipped my head toward the voices. My mind cleared long enough for me to let go of the man's hand. He quickly grabbed it back again.

  "Just breathe, honey."

  Obeying, I took in another breath. Of course there were other people here; why wouldn't there be? This place was great.

  Smiling at the man, I slid down next to him, breathing in the earthy scent of his clothes. With each breath, my muscles melted into the soft cushion, and I became more relaxed. I let out a yawn. I hadn't felt this at ease in a long time.

  "That's it, honey," the man murmured, wrapping his arm tightly around my shoulders. "Just breathe."

  I breathed in and out again, allowing my eyes to close.

  "Isn't this great?" a voice from the fog said, causing my eyelids to open ever so slightly.

  "I love it," another voice responded. "I love just lying around. And" —the voice paused for a deep breath— "doing nothing."

  "Nobody telling you what to do," a voice added from another part of the fog. "Nobody expecting you to do anything."

  "Or be anything," another voice said sleepily.

  Exhaustion hit me, and my eyelids shut entirely. I'd been running for so long, and I was tired. Why couldn't they all be quiet so I could rest? I sucked in a deep breath. The air tickled my nose, causing me to giggle.

  "Shh," the man said, running his fingers in circles on my shoulder. "You need rest."

  "I do. I do need rest," I replied, peeking an eye open as I playfully poked him with my index finger.

  "And sleep," he added.

  "Sleep," I whispered, cuddling closer to him.

  "You don't need anything or anyone."

  Why would I need anything? Everything I needed was right here. And why would I need anyone? I needed nothing. I needed no one. I breathed in deeply, beginning to close my eyes once more.

  "There's no one you need to take care of."

  He was right. No one I needed to take care of.

  But . . . it felt as if there was someone who took care of me. Someone kind. Someone who was my friend. Someone who was more than a friend?

  I breathed in. It didn't matter. There was no one I needed to take care of. Closing my eyes, I settled into the man's side, breathing heavily.

  "There's nowhere you need to run."

  There's nowhere I needed to . . . run.

  Run.

  Running.

  I was running.

  I was running away.

  Away from where? Where was I running?

  Run . . . run . . . run . . .

  I breathed in deeply. Who wanted to run when you could sleep?

  "Run, Addie, run!" a voice screamed in my ear.

  I sat up with a gasp, my heart racing. My eyes shot open to see people—hundreds of them—lying all over the place. Some were in seats, others on makeshift beds made from pillows and blankets. But most of them were heaped one atop another, breathing in the addictive green haze.

  I began to pull Lyle's sweater over my mouth when a hand yanked my arm down.

  "You're supposed to be sleeping, honey."

  I looked up, expecting to see the attractive man I had seen before. Only he was anything but. He was hideous. His dark hair was matted with layers of grease. His skin was pale and splotchy, as if he hadn't bathed in years. But his eyes sent needles down my spine. Those eyes, which were once big and green, were replaced with the cold, dark eyes of the siti.

  "It's time to sleep," he said, forcefully pulling me down.

  Reacting on instinct, I kneed him in the stomach and stood up. Pulling Lyle's sweater over my nose, I ran toward the stairs.

  "It's time to sleep," more voices said as the wood creaked beneath my feet. Grabbing the strap of the satchel, I sprinted up the stairs and ran toward the front door.

  Once outside, I looked around in hope of finding a way out of this realm. Dragging footsteps echoed around me. I stepped back as hundreds of people from the basement poured out of the house, their black eyes fixed on one point: me.

  "Sleep," they moaned, sounding like the call of the siti.

  I clutched the strap of my bag tightly, trying not to breathe as I took a few more steps back. Claire had said the siti were once human, right? Was this what she meant?

  I started to take another step back when my foot hit something hard, and I stumbled backwards. Terror seized my heart until I saw the light of the lantern shining right beside the house. Relieved, I grabbed it and ran.

  The moans died down as I pumped my legs. The void extended around me as the lantern swung from my fingertips, its light illuminating the dense, hazy air a few paces ahead. My lungs were dying for fresh air, but I couldn't breathe. Hot tears of frustration streamed down my cheeks as I ran faster and faster. My chest heaved in pain. I felt so weak.

  "Run, Addie, run," the voice whispered to me softly. It was the same voice that had yelled earlier.

  "I am!" I growled between huffs. I held Lyle's sweater tighter over my nose as I kept running.

  But the void continued. The green haze thickened the farther I ran. I was so tired. It would be so much easier if I gave up. Who was I kidding? I couldn't save Lyle. I was always the one who needed help, not him.

  Just as I was about to slow my pace, a light blue door glimmered in the distance. A layer of hope clung to my heart as I sprinted toward escape.

  I pumped my legs as hard as I could, the door growing closer, and a figure with white hair that beamed brightly against the green haze appeared next to it.

  "Claire!" I shouted through Lyle's sweater.

  But Claire didn't respond.

  Chapter 14

  When I finally reached Claire, I realized why she hadn'
t responded. Her eyes were still glazed over. Ophidian was still here.

  "I'm impressed, Adelaide," the Beast said through Claire's lips. "Most fail at the First Choice. A life of laziness and sleep is such a temptation for most. No accountability or responsibility."

  I clenched my teeth, anger replacing my fear as I gripped Lyle's sweater around my nose. "I passed your test. Now tell me where Lyle is and let Claire go."

  Claire let out a deep laugh that pricked my skin. "Oh no, this was only the First Choice. You have six left before you can see your brother. Choose wisely."

  Claire's body swayed back and forth before it slumped forward. Rushing to her, I caught her wrist before she landed on the ground.

  Moaning closed in behind me, turning my blood cold. Darting my head around, I spotted the sleepwalkers. While I was talking to Ophidian, they had caught up to me. My heart beat in a frenzy before I remembered Claire's set of keys.

  Frantically, I patted her pockets as she stood with furrowed brows and a frown on her lips, still recovering from Ophidian's full-body takeover. When my fingers brushed the rusted metal, I yanked the keys out of her vest pocket and searched for the one branded with a goat.

  The moaning grew louder.

  I flipped past a lion and a snake, not wanting to know what doors those unlocked, until I found the goat key. The cool texture of the metal was refreshing compared to the humid haze infecting the air. I held the key in my free hand and rushed to the door. When I didn't hear footsteps following my own, I looked backed to see Claire still standing in the same spot as before.

  "Claire, come on," I said through Lyle’s sweater.

  She didn't move.

  I turned and walked back toward her. As I got closer, I saw that Claire's eyes were closed. Reaching out, I grabbed her hand. Her skin felt like ice. I wasn’t sure what Ophidian had done to her, but we had to get out of here.

  Looking back over my shoulder, I clearly saw the outline of the sleepwalkers against the green haze. Grasping Claire’s arms, I hoisted her onto my back, then took a deep breath before the protection of Lyle's sweater fell from my face. It would be impossible for me to unlock the door, hold the lantern and rod, carry Claire, and cover my own mouth all at the same time.

  The green haze wrapped around my nose, prodding me to let it in once more. I bent over slightly to balance Claire on my back, then strung the lantern through the rod as I clutched the keys. My fingertips buzzed with energy as they wrapped around the cool metal rod, but I disregarded it, thinking it was an effect of the haze.

  My lungs squeezed in my chest as I jammed the key into the lock. With a small click, the door flew open. The rushing air returned just as it had before, sucking both Claire and me through the doorway and leaving the sleepwalkers behind.

  Dirt filled my mouth as we slammed into the ground. I groaned when Claire's entire body weight crumpled on top of me. Heaving her off, I coughed and gasped, praying the haze had disappeared. Bile rose in my throat, possessing the same burnt flavor as the haze. The delicious taste I had once loved was now gone. Leaning over, I gagged until my sides ached, hoping to rid my body of Ophidian’s addictive poison.

  Finally able to stand, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand before inhaling. The air was fresh and crisp, chilling my lungs in a pleasant way. It almost felt as if I was back in Barracks, breathing in its cool winter air. But I knew I wasn't. I drew in another breath, not able to get over how clean and pure the air tasted.

  After I had filled my lungs, I walked over to where the lantern and rod had landed. Removing the rod from the lantern ring, I felt the hum of the cylinder again before dropping it to the ground. It was an odd staff, that was for sure. I held out the lantern, hoping to figure out where we were now. Though its light didn't shine far, the lantern reflected off branches and large, dark leaves.

  Images of my nightmare flooded into my mind, and my palms began to sweat. I tried to block them out, praying that this forest was a different one. Holding the lantern farther out, the light exposed straight, tall trunks instead of the arched ones I had come to dread. I breathed a sigh of relief, my heartbeat slowing to normal.

  Loosening my death grip on the lantern, I took a step to investigate when a groan came near my feet. I clutched the lantern, ready to use it as a weapon against any siti or sleepwalkers.

  "Wh—"

  I let out a sigh of relief, thankful to hear Claire’s own voice again. I lowered the lantern to see her face covered in dirt from our rough landing. Crouching, I held the lantern closer to her. Although she sounded like herself, I wasn't about to take any chances.

  "Get that stupid light away from my face," she spat, pushing the lantern away as she covered her eyes with one hand.

  "Sorry." I smirked, trying to suppress a chuckle. "I'm just trying to make sure you're not possessed anymore."

  Claire let out an irritated groan before wiping the dirt off her face, revealing her freckles once more. "I hate it when he does that."

  I placed the lantern between us before slumping to the ground next to her and lacing my fingers together. My mind ran over everything I had learned: Claire was Doctor Magnum's daughter, and I was stuck in Ophidian's Realm with Seven Choices to go through. I squeezed my fingers tightly, biting my lower lip as the lantern’s warm light illuminated the branches above. The darkness seemed dismal against the flickering light.

  The forest was eerily quiet compared to what I had seen of Ophidian's Realm so far. No moaning pierced my ears. No scratching claws appeared in my periphery. For once, my heart beat at a steady pace. I hadn't looked at it since I was in Claire's hut, which now seemed like ages ago.

  As Claire continued to mutter curses toward Ophidian, I unclasped my fingers and reached into the satchel to pull out the white bundle. I carefully peeled back the shreds of the white dress and looked at my life force. It was still red. It was still big. But the brightness of it had dimmed. Maybe I was still feeling the effects of the green haze. Confused, I studied the warm, glowing heart as I turned it around in my hands.

  "I figured that would happen," Claire said, making me jump. I looked back to see her peering over my shoulder.

  "What would happen?"

  She pointed to my heart. "Your heart. It's not as bright anymore."

  I looked back at my heart with a frown.

  "Don't feel bad," Claire continued, picking at a leaf on the ground. "No one has ever made it through Ophidian's Realm with their whole heart. One did come close, though."

  "What do you mean?"

  Claire leaned back, pressing into her hands and stretching her feet out in front of her. She looked up at the trees, her white hair reflecting the lantern light. "It's a story I heard long ago, before I was traded here. Unfortunately, my psychotic mother told it to me."

  I crossed my legs, cradling my heart in my hands as I waited for her to continue.

  Claire looked back at me and sighed. "Fine. " She laid back down, placing her hands under her head before she began. "There was once a young man who was very kind. He always cared for others, but no one ever cared for him. When he was a boy, his father didn’t want him, so his mother traded him for a spool of silk. In mere moments, he became an orphan, traded to a horrible man who made him work long hours as a blacksmith.

  "The man was a young boy then and didn't know anything about the rules of blacksmithery. Day after day, he lifted the metal, pounding it into submission. Day after day, the horrible man beat him, never satisfied.

  "By the time the boy was old enough to run away, he chose not to. He tried to be kind and love the horrible man. After all, the man had provided him with a place to live, food to eat, and had taught him a trade. So, the boy continued to work for the horrible man until he became one of the most acclaimed blacksmiths in all the land. Everyone wanted to trade their hearts for his custom-made swords and daggers. People would come from the far ends of Julal just to get a glimpse of his work.

  "The young blacksmith usually shied away from the attention, neve
r liking to be in the spotlight. He only took the requests the horrible man gave him and never asked any questions. Until one day, he received a most peculiar request."

  I quirked a brow, trying not to interrupt Claire's explanation as I rewrapped my heart and placed it in the satchel. With a sigh, I stretched out my legs against the soft soil that covered the ground, enjoying a moment of rest while she continued.

  "A stranger walked into the workshop. Usually, the young blacksmith only saw the horrible man; outsiders were never allowed inside the forge. But this man didn't seem to know that rule. Or didn't seem to care.

  "Though he walked into the hut with authority and grace, he was dressed as a layman. He walked over to the young man, who was pounding away at a new sword. The young blacksmith looked up, astonished to see a different man than the one who had ruled over him for so long."

  Claire's voice deepened. "'If you could trade your heart for anything, what would it be?' the man asked.

  "The young blacksmith looked at the stranger, surprised. No one had ever cared enough to ask him what he would trade his heart for. No one had ever seen him as anything more than a slave. The blacksmith cleared his throat and said he wouldn't trade his heart.

  "The stranger smiled and asked, 'What would you do with it?'

  "The young blacksmith looked down at the tools he had been working with for almost his entire life. He created things that people wanted all the time. He couldn't understand how they were so willing to trade their hearts away for something so insignificant. He could never trade his heart away for something meaningless. So, he replied that he would give it away to someone he loved."

  My own heart melted a bit at the sentiment. What a nice thought. But then, that’s what happened to Nana. Love was a fickle choice for a heart, leading only to destruction.

  Claire continued the story, acting out each part. "The stranger smiled kindly before he walked toward the young blacksmith, picking up the sword the blacksmith had been working on.

  "'Love is a gift, isn't it?' the stranger said. 'Something that can't be traded or pawned away. It is never earned, only given and received.' The stranger then gripped the sword, and the blade glowed pure white. The young blacksmith backed away in fear. The stranger loosened his grasp on the sword, then handed it to the blacksmith.