Heartbreaker

by V. Romas Burton

  Placing my hand on the curling wallpaper, I took the stairs one at a time, the burdens of my former life rising. The steps moaned as I cautiously placed my weight on each board. The splintered wood would probably hold, but I wasn’t sure.

  How many times had I rushed up these stairs in terror of the realm around me? The memories were so distant now, like a dream. As I made it to the top of the cracked staircase, it was like I was a stranger in my own home. Was it my home anymore? I wasn’t sure if I wanted to come back to Barracks.

  The door to my bedroom hung by a hinge, a gaping hole where the knob used to be. I paused. Did the siti destroy all the houses in Barracks?

  Squaring my shoulders, I pushed through the broken door. My hand fell to my side as I took in the wreckage. My small space was destroyed. My clothes, my bed, everything was ripped to shreds. Pages from one of my favorite books were torn through by a siti claw, the paper scattered like snow. Rage burbling, I flipped through the tattered text, but I pushed it away, trying not to let my anger take hold of me again.

  Biting my tongue, I dropped the book and started to search for anything we could use on our journey.

  While I rifled through old shredded blankets, my mind filtered through everything. Silas was the young blacksmith. That meant he had given up half of his heart for me. But did that mean I had to give my heart to him? I did care for Silas; in fact, I might even call this emotion love. But with everything on my plate, from prophecies to journeys, I didn’t think I could handle love right now.

  After searching through the tattered fabric, I found a woolen blanket that would suffice. Folding it, I stuffed it in the satchel. As I exited my room, I bent down and snatched a tangle of string peeking out from the head of a dismembered doll. I threaded my finger through my short curls. Did my mother ever cut her hair short?

  The thought startled me. Ever since Lyle had said he knew something about our parents, my mind kept drifting back to them. I twisted the string around the bundle and tied it into a knot. What were they like? Would we get along if they were still around? The cool air tickled my bare neck as I returned to the hallway, praying for more answers about our mother and father soon.

  I stepped on the first stair when the sight of Lyle’s bedroom caught my eye. The door had been torn off and thrown to the end of the hallway, leaving everything in his room exposed.

  I raced over before freezing in the threshold. The destruction of my room was tame compared to Lyle’s. Not only were all his clothes shredded, but his bed was split down the middle, the stuffing puffed out along the tear. Tufts of stuffing and fabric were strewn across the floor as if the monsters were searching for something. Either that or the siti had been fascinated by mattress stuffing.

  Deciding it was probably the former, I stalked closer to examine the scene. Everything under Lyle’s bed was now unmasked by the torn mattress. Crystals, springs, and other unique things I had never seen were sprawled out along the floor's wooden planks. My breath hitched as I recognized my father’s handwriting on a shredded piece of paper. I bent down and grasped it. The ink had been smudged, making the words illegible, but I was sure this was from him. Just like the note he had given Lyle that said to take care of me.

  Standing, I held the piece to my chest. I hoped Lyle was healing well. I’d lost too much of my family already.

  Folding the paper, I placed it in my satchel before turning my attention to Lyle’s bed. Using my foot, I moved several of the broken items to the side. As I kicked over a ripped pillow, something in my satchel jerked. I peeled back the flap, and my hand touched the glowing binding of the book from Eman. But when I tried to open it, the text jerked out of my hands and dove beneath the remnants of Lyle’s bed.

  Was the book looking for something? I didn’t know magical texts could search for anything. Lying on my stomach, I followed the book under the bed. After elbowing away miscellaneous treasures, I spied two identical glowing items coated in snowy stuffing.

  Another book? My curiosity spun as I stretched my hand forward. Without much effort, the two books flew to my fingertips. I grasped them tightly and slid out from under the bed.

  “Are you okay? I heard a noise.” Silas stood in the doorway, his messy hair standing straight on his head as he clutched a bulging sack. Placing the sack down, he glanced around Lyle’s room before focusing on the books. “What are those?”

  “This is from Eman,” I said, holding up the brown book that was meant to direct me to the Twelve Magisters.

  “And that?” He motioned to the other object.

  I turned it on its side. "I think it's a book, too."

  Silas held out his hand, and I dropped the book from Lyle’s bed into it. The glow brightened as soon as it touched his fingers.

  There was something about this book that was familiar. While I studied the glowing text, a forgotten memory shot through my mind.

  “Don’t go where you’re not supposed to, Addie,” Lyle said, staring down at me, his eyes glowering with warning.

  I looked up at him with a big grin, standing on my tiptoes to appear taller than my short, childish height.

  “I mean it,” Lyle shot an icy glare at me through his spectacles before turning. “When I come back after work, I’ll show you what I traded for, okay?”

  I huffed, folding my arms across my chest as I returned to my flat-footed height. “Okay, Lyle.”

  The intensity melted from Lyle’s face, and he chuckled, ruffling my already wild hair before walking through the door.

  I stood on the porch, waving until I was sure he was long gone to the market before darting up the stairs. With a devious grin, I sped into his room. I didn’t have school that day, so what else was I going to do? The various items from all his trades were too tempting to resist. So, I didn’t.

  With a laugh, I sprang onto his bed, admiring all the trinkets Lyle had laid at its foot. A stack of sparkling rocks, all different colors, stood tall. Every time I would knock them over, they would rearrange themselves again. My young self laughed with delight, remembering Lyle had said these rocks were from the caves of Dunsque.

  Once I had finished with the rocks, I moved to the next item: a small, blue puffball.

  I crouched over the puff, waiting for it to do something. When it didn’t, I poked the puffball, causing it to double in size. Grinning, I poked the ball again. The puff was now the size of one of Lyle’s books. Poke. The puff encased Lyle’s entire room.

  I kicked my feet in the air, laughing wildly until I realized I didn’t know how to make the puff return to its original size. I poked it once more, but it only grew bigger. Sighing, I knew I was going to be caught.

  As I rolled from beneath the puff, my foot landed on something hard. When I glanced down, I saw the corner of a gray rectangle sticking out from beneath Lyle’s bed. Curious, I reached down to grab it, but it jumped away.

  I dove after it but the smell of sweat, dirt, and who knew what else bowled me over, and I quickly sprang back. Gasping for air, I sat next to the bed, peering at the gray rectangle. Carefully, I extended my hand, and the item flew forward, smacking into my palm.

  I placed the bland, simple rectangle on the floor and studied it. Warmth flowed beneath my fingertips as I walked my fingers across the cover. Its gray color shifted into a pale yellow before it flipped open, revealing it was a book. Crouching on my hands and knees, I examined the pages. Dark words scrawled across the pages in a tongue I didn’t understand.

  Soon, a series of circles and triangles spun together to form what looked like a sun. I watched in fascination as the words and shapes danced together. The bright pages so completely absorbed my attention, I never heard the whistling coming down the path. By the time the front door opened, it was too late.

  The giant blue puff receded with a burst of air as Lyle slammed the door open. With my hand on the pale-yellow book, I was caught. I quickly shut it and slid it under his bed.

  "What did I tell you?” Lyle said in a low, clipped voice. He was fur
ious, his shoulders rigid and tense as all the kindness and joy left his eyes, replaced with darkness I had never seen.

  “Addie, are you all right?” Silas asked, his face concerned as his strong fingers grasped my shoulder.

  Blinking, I gave my head a quick shake before nodding. I eyed the book, expecting it to change to the pale yellow I remembered. But instead, it twisted into a shade of dark green. We watched the color change as a gold line traced itself into a shape on the front. Before it had a chance to complete, a deep moan stretched through my hollow home. My gaze shot to the window. The sun was getting lower. Hadn’t Nana said something about the siti coming out in the afternoon?

  Without another thought, Silas threw the book in my bag and grabbed my hand, squeezing my fingers together as we raced down the stairs. My pulse thundered as I clasped Eman’s book to my chest. We barreled down the front steps and across the barren land to Nana’s home. The moaning rumbled again, this time louder as it echoed around the snowy plain.

  Rushing up to Nana’s porch, we found James standing in the entrance, cradling Nana in his arms. She was now wrapped in a torn quilt. On the floor next to them was a bag of supplies. Nana clutched the quilt close, her limbs trembling.

  “You heard it, too,” James grunted, holding her tightly. We both nodded as we entered and closed the door shut.

  The moans drew closer. Silas whipped to the front door, his eyes boring into the wood. “We need to go. Here—” He opened his pack and thrust the purple bag at me.

  “But—”

  “No, Addie,” he said, placing it into my palm before wrapping his hands around my own. “Like I said before, my heart has always been yours. It’ll be safe with you.”

  I blinked at our hands. Why would it be safe with me? “Silas, I—”

  The noise from before was now only a few feet away, a deep moaning that I had only heard in the depths of the shadows. The blood drained from my face.

  Raising the blade with the skill of a master swordsman, Silas strode toward the clawed door.

  “They’re back.”

  Chapter 5

  Anxiety cinched my breath as I clenched the small purple sack.

  How will you defend yourself against the siti without your sword? the condescending voice from before asked.

  The voice was right. I loved that Silas had given me his heart, but he had taken away my defense, my protection. I glowered at the small bag. His gift couldn’t protect me from the siti.

  “Ready?” Silas said, his eyes sparkling with confidence. I clenched the strap of my satchel, mustering a wary smile. Silas’s lips thinned, seeing right through the façade. “I know you’ve faced worse than this. You survived Ophidian’s Realm, didn’t you? One thing I remember is that place is hell. If you got out of there in one piece, I know you can face this, too.”

  My insides fluttered at his compliment. Ophidian’s Realm was hell. But when I first entered it, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Now that I did, I was more terrified than before.

  “Wait right here,” Silas said before darting to the living room. In a few moments, he returned with Nana’s fire poker. “Here,” he thrust the rusted metal rod at me. “We can do this.”

  Placing the purple bag and Eman’s book in my satchel, I gripped the cold iron and mumbled a heartless thank you. Gritty metal scratched my fingers as dark red chunks of iron flaked off and fell to the ground. I poked the pointed end into the floorboard. A chunk of the tip snapped off. My confidence wavered. How was this going to protect me? I eyed the sword again. The fire poker was nothing compared to the sword. Now that I held the iron rod, I couldn’t believe the sword hadn’t severed the fire poker in half before.

  The frigid chill circled around us as Silas opened the door. James gently seated Nana right inside the doorway before a deathly weapon formed in his grasp. As the light solidified into metal, an axe with a steel hook curling off the adjacent end appeared.

  “The fun’s just starting, kids,” he chuckled, a spark of amusement in his eyes as he rotated the weapon between his palms.

  The moaning of the siti vibrated through the air as we gathered onto Nana’s porch. The thick stench of rotting flesh infected the crisp air. Did Ophidian let the siti roam free, or did he allow his second in command to control them? As soon as the thought crossed my mind, a plume of black smoke billowed before us, and I sucked in a breath.

  I did my best to shed the emotion from my face. But as I stared into the cool eyes of Schism, panic topped the fear already burrowing inside. Before, he could only harm me. But now my family was in danger.

  The siti roamed along the stone path, their long, gray forms stretching as they crawled back and forth. Their black claws scraped against the ice, and my old wounds flared up. Hordes of siti flanked Schism on both sides, watching and waiting for his command to attack. Their thin lips stretched against the black cords sewing their mouths shut. The hairs on my neck rose with anticipation.

  “It’s been too long, little Addie.”

  Focusing back on Schism, I noted what had happened to him since the Seventh Choice. The arm I had severed was replaced by a long, black limb, like shined ebony. This time, however, his other arm was identical. Two false hands and forearms had been repaired with stone all the way up to the elbow. Ophidian’s blow to him in Ofavemore had caused more damage than I thought. But it was his face that rattled my core. Though his features appeared the same as before, it was as if they had been carved from black marble, adding a menacing layer to his beautiful appearance.

  “It has,” I replied coolly, lifting my chin as I took a step forward. There was no reason to endanger everyone. I was the one Schism wanted.

  Silas tensed in my periphery, one hand tightening around the sword, the other snapping out in front of me. I stumbled back before finding my balance.

  The sword glowed a glittering gold, beaming brighter as Silas leveled a scowl at Schism. I expected its cooling power to rush through my heart, but it wasn’t there. Now that the alme had reconnected with its master, I could no longer feel its power.

  All this time, the sword was yours, and now it’s gone.

  I wrung my hands around the fire poker, despising the pitiful weapon to defend myself while Silas had a magnificent alme. Why couldn’t the sword have been mine?

  “Now, now,” James said, twirling his weapon. “There’s no need to start anything.”

  Schism scoffed, and Silas crossed in front of me, positioning himself between Ophidian’s commander and me.

  “Is this your protection?” Schism guffawed. “A lowly town boy and an old man?”

  Before I could respond, Silas pointed the sword at Schism. “What do you want?” His face was stern. His once warm eyes hardened like his blade as they bore into Schism.

  James stretched his shoulders before tightening his grip on his weapon. “You really want to do this the hard way, don’t you?”

  Schism ignored both of them, keeping his glower locked on me. “What are we to do, little Addie? There you are, bearing not only a brand-new heart but the other half of my lord’s. While I’m here, completely heartless.” He motioned to himself.

  “That heart doesn’t belong to him, or to you,” I said, shouldering up to Silas. I held out the fire poker, ready to pierce him through. Or watch it shatter to pieces. Still, whether I lost or won, I wasn’t about to go down without a fight. I was no longer a burden. I was strong and could protect myself.

  “Oh, yes, my dear, sweet little Addie, I’m afraid to say it is his heart now.” Schism waved and gave a dramatic bow as if it were Heart Reign again. “Once any heart fuses with my lord’s, it becomes bound to him, permanently.”

  The memory of Ophidian yanking the two halves of the black and red heart out of his chest entered my mind. How long had Silas’s heart been fueling Ophidian? The unsynchronized beat of the two hearts thumped through my thoughts, and an uneasiness crept under my skin. After all this time, Silas’s heart still hadn’t fused perfectly with Ophidian’s. But if
the Beast got both halves … I shook my head. I wouldn’t allow that to happen.

  “You’re wrong. No matter what he tries, that heart will always stay true to its real master,” Silas growled.

  His half-heart pulsed rapidly inside the satchel. I didn’t dare open it, fearful Schism would take it, but in my periphery, small specs of ruby light escaped from inside my bag. I subtly tugged the flap down, snuffing the hue from sight.

  The sword glowed with the same brilliant light. Not like how it had glowed for me; this light was gold, brighter, and purer.

  The glow encased the blade, sending droplets of radiance into the afternoon sky. It was as if the sword was aflame with gilded fire. Its heat blazed so intensely, I had to stumble away. Shielding my eyes, I realized Silas now stood in a halo of golden beams, his skin shimmering like the morning sun. Soft gasps came from behind me, and I turned to check on James and Nana. James crouched next to Nana, hugging her to his chest as he grasped his weapon, both of their mouths agape.

  “It can’t be,” Schism squeaked like a terrified rat, backing away. He tripped on one of the siti and flailed, landing on his backside.

  Short, quick moans escaped from the siti’s woven lips as they scurried away, fleeing toward the trees of Wintertide. Soon, Schism was all alone, the solitary obstacle in our path.

  “It’s—it’s impossible.” Schism cowered. He held up his ebony arms, trying to block the light.

  I stood, transfixed on Silas as Schism writhed.

  After he took a final step, Silas stopped. Pointing the blade at Schism’s throat, he boomed, “Tell your master I’m coming for my heart.”

  My skin tingled at Silas’s voice. It was no longer his soft, soothing tone, but hard, commanding, and powerful.

  Schism snarled once before scrambling out of the glowing light. As soon as he scampered into the shadows, the cracking of bones erupted from his back. His dark, decrepit wings sprouted from his shoulder blades.