Heartbreaker

by V. Romas Burton

I nodded, deciding not to mention my brother’s unraveling before I left. I sent a prayer to the Heavens, hoping he was healing well in Ramni.

  "He's safe. The Mender will take care of him."

  "What about you?" Silas watched me intensely, his brows puckered with concern. "Who's going to take care of you?"

  I drummed my fingers along the sword. "I'm not alone, so I'll be okay."

  Resting on the table, Silas placed a hand under his chin and studied my face before he grinned. My stomach flipped. I loved his smile.

  "Plus" —I grasped the hilt and held up the blade— "I've learned I'm a pretty good swordswoman."

  Silas laughed, and my heart swelled with adoration. It was deep and soothing, full of life and joy. I couldn’t help but laugh, as well. But when his gaze found the sword, his lips faded into their familiar stern line. He held his hand out, and I placed the weapon in it, curious about his sudden change.

  "Silas, what is it?"

  As soon as the hilt touched his skin, a golden glow lined the blade. Silas’s arm trembled as he grasped the hilt, flecks of gilded light adjoining over his fingers. I gaped at the sight, yet Silas was completely unfazed as he brought the sword to eye level.

  "I don't know,” he confessed. “I feel like I've seen this sword before. Like from a dream."

  As I clamped my lips shut, a thump rammed against my chest. I jumped in surprise, but Silas didn't notice, still entranced by the sword. The thump came again, and I glanced down to find the satchel moving.

  Opening the flap, I reached in until my hand rested on the tiny purple bag Eman had given me. I waited a moment longer, and the thump vibrated against my fingertips.

  I cupped the purple bag in my palm while Eman’s words swirled in my mind: You will know what to do with it when the right time comes. The thumping increased.

  "Silas," I started, staring at the small sack. He tore his attention away from the sword. "I think this is for you."

  Silas held his hand steady as I placed the pouch on his palm. His long fingers carefully drew the gold cord, unfolding the pleats along the top. Bringing the bag to his chest, he peered inside, and his brows rose. I gripped the edge of the table, bursting with anticipation.

  "Addie," he whispered, not taking his gaze off whatever was in the bag. "How did you find this?"

  I was about to take the pouch myself when he placed his hand inside.

  "What is it?" I asked, trying to contain my overflowing curiosity.

  Extending his arm across the table, Silas opened his hand. I brought my hands to my mouth, stifling a gasp.

  Beating steadily against his palm lay the severed half of a bright red heart.

  Chapter 3

  The half-heart brightened, beating triumphantly in Silas’s palm. Lowering my hands, I gawked at the life force, unable to pull away from its mesmerizing glow. The pieces of information floating in my mind clicked together. I reared back, finally connecting everything. This heart had finally returned to its owner.

  “You’re—” I stammered.

  “I couldn’t tell you,” Silas said, cutting me off as he cradled the gift from Eman to his chest. His expression flickered through several emotions. “I-I didn’t remember everything—anything. I still don't. But now with this—” He peered down at his half-heart. “Some of my memories are coming back.” Silas raised his head. “I’ve always known you were an important part of my life. Whenever I was with you, everything seemed right.”

  I gaped. The story Claire had told me was true. And out of everyone, it was him. The young blacksmith who had survived the Seven Choices was real and was currently standing in the middle of Nana’s half-destroyed kitchen. It was Silas all along. Silas and the young blacksmith were one and the same.

  My gaze drifted to the sword on the table. This entire time, I’d been wielding Silas’s sword. The one he had made. The one the stranger had enchanted for him. The wheels turned in my head. No, it wasn’t a stranger who enchanted it for him. How could I be so blind? Only one man could enchant a sword with the mark of the Mender.

  Then, I remembered my promise. How I had sworn I would find the blacksmith and return what he had lost. Burying my face into my hands, I shook my head in disbelief. My grandfather and the young blacksmith, all on the same day.

  Once I regained my composure, Silas gently lowered his half-heart back into the purple bag before handling the sword. His hands carefully caressed the blade as if it were a rare treasure. As he tilted his head, the tips of his hair curled, brushing against the new beard accentuating his strong jaw. A rosy pink tinted his cheeks as he brought the hilt close to his face. I didn’t remember Silas ever looking flushed. My neck grew hot, and I quickly glanced down to my hands. How long had I been staring at him? Coughing, I adverted my attention to the sword, not its creator.

  I ran my finger through my hair, trying to smooth the windblown tangles. “You know the Mender? Eman?”

  Silas nodded slowly, his gaze shifting from the sword to me.

  Eman said that the sword, an alme, would be limited in my hands because it wasn’t mine. Only in the hands of its true master would its full power be unleashed. Watching how the sword pulsed and glowed under Silas’s touch, there was no doubt about it. It was his.

  “If that sword really is yours, why did it work for me?”

  Like a fog lifting from a meadow, confusion vanished from Silas’s face, replaced by unwavering resolve. Setting the sword aside, he gripped the purple bag, never once breaking eye contact with me. My mended heart beat recklessly against my ribcage as I sat, paralyzed by those piercing, chestnut eyes. Never had I seen them so alive.

  Hesitantly, Silas leaned across the table and reached for my hand. I tensed before his tough, calloused fingers softly grasped mine. A ribbon of peace hugged my anxious heart once more, reassuring me that this Silas was real.

  Carefully unfolding my fingers one-by-one, Silas placed the purple bag on my palm. It was light, like mine had been, but heavy at the same time. Opening the mouth of the bag, I peeked inside. There was strength and depth to his heart that drew me in. It pulsated with vigor, but its red hue seemed strangely dim. Still, after holding the power of my own life force, I had no doubt Silas’s held the same, if not more.

  Silas took a shallow breath before saying, “My heart always has and always will belong to you.”

  My knee hit the leg of the table as my eyes snapped to his, jaw dropping open.

  The half-heart beat excitedly in my hands, satisfied with my reaction. Closing my mouth, I cleared my throat and tried to ignore the pleased grin on Silas’s face.

  “I never thought I would make you speechless twice in one conversation.”

  Heat flittered through my body, a new sensation that my heart seemed determined to give me around Silas. I was sure I was as red as cherry filling.

  Silas brought a hand to his mouth, trying to hide his broadening smile. “That reaction is new.”

  "So is that," I countered, pointing to his lips.

  He lowered his hands and beamed. A giggle escaped my throat, and I almost felt at home.

  I peeled open my fingers, and the red hue spilled out, the steady beating warming my palms. I grazed the heart with my thumb, and it shuddered. No wonder Ophidian wanted it so badly. Even with only half of Silas’s heart, the Beast had built an army of terrifying monsters. If Ophidian got his hands on the remaining half, there was no telling how powerful he’d become.

  My thoughts raced, and I jerked my head up. Ophidian. He was still out there, hunting for not only my heart but Silas’s, as well. If he’d attacked Barracks once already, I had no doubt that he’d do it again.

  “Silas, we can’t stay here, not for long. Ophidian’s hunting for me, for you. If he finds us…”

  Silas’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “Ophidian,” he muttered, his lips turning downward. Since when had they been so pink and inviting?

  I shook my head. Now wasn’t the time to get distracted.

  Still cupping my han
ds around his heart, I asked, “What happened after I left?”

  Silas clenched his fist once more, beating it against the clawed table. “As soon as you jumped through, Schism changed. It was horrifying. I’ve never seen something so human turn so … monstrous.”

  My mind flashed back to the first time I had seen Schism’s true form in Ira’s Vindicae. I shuddered, remembering those horrifying claws tearing into my legs, tossing me like a ragdoll. It was a miracle I even survived that fight with him. If it hadn’t been for Silas’s sword and Claire’s healing salve, I would definitely be dead right now.

  “Other creatures poured through the red doors,” Silas continued, flattening his palm on the table. “So many people gone.”

  Ice ran down my spine, and I clutched his half-heart to my chest. “What do you mean ‘gone’? Schism didn’t kill them?”

  Silas glowered at the floor. “Oh, he killed some, but not all of them. The ones that were ‘deemed worthy,’ as he said, were taken.”

  “Taken?” Fear sliced through me as I remembered Claire, taken from everything because her mother had traded her away. Another face, Governor Willow’s, transforming into a siti, followed the thought. “Didn’t a trade have to be made?”

  Silas’s face turned cold, his eyes like stone. “The days of fair trading are over.”

  I shrank back, realizing the severity of what lay ahead. “What about Doctor Magnum?”

  After searching through his office, the chance of his survival was slim. But I didn’t want him dead. Certainly, by extracting hearts, he had given Ophidian everything he wanted and more. But at the same time, instead of turning my heart over to Governor Willow, the doctor had told me to run.

  “I don’t know if he’s dead or alive,” Silas explained. “When everything started, Schism and his monsters killed and took so many. I don’t know why. The only thing I do know is everyone’s gone.”

  Swallowing my fear, I nodded. “How did you and Nana escape?”

  Silas rubbed the back of his neck. “As soon as Schism attacked, I ran here to find her. I didn’t know what to do or where we could go, but I had to keep her safe. I was all she had left.”

  Guilt piled on my shoulders. I wasn’t thinking about Nana, or Barracks, or anyone else when I ran through Schism’s door. If she had died while I was gone, I wasn’t sure what I’d do.

  Silas’s voice softened. “I’m not trying to make you feel guilty. I’m just trying to be honest. Who else would think of her? Protect her?”

  He was right. If it weren’t for Silas, what would Schism have done to Nana? Especially after discovering her connection not only to Lyle and me, but also to James, as well.

  “After I got here,” Silas continued. “We packed everything we could and locked ourselves in the cellar.” He stood and began pacing. “We were doing okay, and I would search the market for more supplies when we ran out. I always went in the morning because the monsters scour the market every afternoon.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut. “The siti are horrid creatures.”

  “You know what they’re called?”

  I peeked down at the glowing heart, still in my hands. “Ophidian’s Realm is full of them.”

  “You fought them?” Silas asked, his tone heavy with skepticism.

  He doesn’t believe you, a new voice slithered through my thoughts, and I paused. The voice didn’t sound like Eman. More like my own, just a little deeper and smoother. I pursed my lips. Maybe it was just another side-effect of having a mended heart.

  “Of course, I fought them,” I replied, lifting my chin. “How else would I be here?”

  “I’m not sure—"

  He still sees weak, pitiful Addie. That’s all you’ll ever be to him. A poor little girl who needs his protection.

  “I’m capable of taking care of myself, Silas,” I huffed, shoving the bag and his severed heart across the table.

  “Addie,” he began in an apologetic tone, but a shriek from the doorway silenced him.

  We both shot up, but I snatched the sword before Silas could and started toward the noise.

  “Addie!” Silas exclaimed, reaching out to stop me.

  I dodged out of his grasp and lurched toward the door, unleashing the sword.

  Chapter 4

  James threw up his hands, and I lowered the blade, immediately regretting my paranoia.

  “Don’t worry, Addie. It’s just me,” he said softly. Concern glinted in his ice-blue eyes as he spoke.

  “Sorry,” I breathed, placing the sword on the table. Silas scanned me, then the sword. I spun away from his penetrating stare, taking in a deep breath to calm my racing pulse as James and Nana shuffled into the kitchen.

  James carefully maneuvered Nana’s wheelchair to the table, its wheels emitting the shriek from before. Once she was settled, Nana reached out to me, and I squeezed one of her hands. Her once hollow eyes were now filled with abundant joy.

  “Addie,” James said. “Ophidian is searching for you as we speak. Your Nana has told me about how the siti roam the market every afternoon for food. Though this old house kept her and Silas safe, it’s not going to hold up once the siti know you’re here.” He placed his hand on the adjacent wall, giving it a tender pat as if thanking the house. “It won’t take them long to find us. Your heart carries a strong aura, one they can smell from miles away. The sooner we leave Barracks, the better.”

  “Right.” I stood and carefully paced the kitchen. Broken bowls and plates decorated the counters and floor. “We should probably gather whatever supplies we can from here before moving on.”

  “You should stay here with Nana, sir,” Silas said quickly, fumbling with a pack as he awkwardly swung it over his shoulder. “We have some food left in the cellar, but it’s not a lot. As for Addie and me—” He glanced over at me.

  My fingers paused over a cracked red bowl, and I peered over my shoulder. “Yes?”

  “We have a second stash of food at your house,” Silas continued, gesturing toward my old house. “And, I was wondering, if you wanted to, you could come with me…” he trailed off.

  Home: the prison I had condemned myself to for so many years. Something about the word chilled my bones. If I wanted to be strong, I had to face it once and for all.

  “Sure, I can come,” I tried to say as casually as possible. “I should probably change first, though.” I motioned to my mud-stained dress.

  “It looks great on you,” Silas said, before snapping his lips shut, his cheeks oddly red.

  James shot him a look, and Silas gave a nervous laugh before shuffling away from my grandfather.

  I touched James on the arm. “Sana packed me an extra outfit. I’ll change real quick, then we’ll head over.”

  Silas assessed my dress once more, sending tingles through my body before he grabbed his half-heart and placed it back in the purple bag. Once he secured his heart in his pack, he started for the sword but stopped, his hand hovering over the weapon.

  “Go ahead.” I reluctantly waved to the sword. “It’s yours.”

  Silas didn’t hesitate before latching onto the hilt and heading out of the kitchen.

  My shoulders sagged as I watched him go.

  “Be careful,” James said, keeping one hand on Nana’s shoulder. “It won’t be long before the siti return to hunt.”

  I gave him a nod and hurried up the stairs. I quickly changed out of the muddy dress and slipped into dark pants and Lyle’s sweater once more. The thick fibers instantly warmed my skin, and I felt like myself again. I neatly folded the dress and left it in Nana’s room before tightening the laces on my boots and heading downstairs.

  Nana and James greeted me at the doorway while Silas stood next to the clawed door, his hand ready on the rusted knob.

  “We’ll be waiting for you,” Nana said as she grasped James’s hand. “Hurry back.”

  James shifted his attention from Silas to the loving face of Nana. His stern lips softened as he leaned down and placed a kiss on her frail chee
k.

  I smiled at their sweet relationship before I found my gaze drifting to Silas. The same warmth from earlier bloomed through my body. Though I wanted to welcome this budding love, I had to ignore it. Now wasn’t the time for intense emotions.

  Silently, Silas and I walked down the steps of Nana’s house toward my own. We were halfway between the two when Silas said, “You walked down the steps and all this way without clutching your hands once.”

  I forced a laugh but couldn’t control the snarky comment that followed. “The people of Barracks are hardly anything for me to fear anymore. I’ve seen evil far worse than them.”

  Focusing my gaze ahead, I enjoyed Silas admiring my tall stance and confident walk. I had stared evil in the eye and almost died. But I had also seen life, and because of that, I was standing strong today.

  “I apologize for letting you go,” Silas whispered as we stepped up the stairs of my home, the creaks of the rotting wood wailing against our feet. “Letting you go through with it, all of it.”

  “Why didn’t you try to stop me then?” I asked, not giving him a chance to respond before trekking through the chaos.

  My home had deteriorated more in the last year than it ever had while I lived in it. The front door was gone, leaving a perfect view of the siti destruction inside.

  “I—” he began, but when I waited for his reply, he slammed his lips shut, as if he were unable to explain.

  After a moment, I lifted my shoulders, dismissing the topic. “I’m going to go upstairs and see if there’s anything left. Can you check the kitchen?”

  Silas’s throat bobbed, and he gave a silent nod before heading to the adjacent room.

  Cold air seeped into my home from the shattered windows. I rubbed my hands together for warmth. Mounds of snow and ice piled around the old wooden floor and layered on the pieces of Lyle’s dismantled clock. His wooden chess set was completely destroyed, as well. It pained me to see the destruction of his things after I had tried so hard to preserve them. The chair I used to sit on had multiple gashes in it, the stuffing protruding through the lining. Numerous siti claw marks branded each of the walls surrounding my former home.