The Heartstone

by Lisa Finnegan

  Inside the main hall was vast and dark. Torches sputtered in sconces along the walls. The sunlight shafted in through the windows but failed to relieve the gloom. The stone floors were swept, timber posts carved with stylized dragons held up the ceiling. Tapestries brightened the walls.

  Tables were being set up in a horseshoe shape in preparation for an evening meal. On the far side, a fire roared. Servants gaped at them but looked quickly away at Jarod’s frown.

  Jarod led her to a small chamber. The only furniture was a desk covered in scrolls and maps and a straight-backed chair. The room was dim fitfully lit by the sunlight streaming through the mullioned windows and the candle on the table.

  In the chair with his back to the door a man sat studying a map. His broad shoulders were bowed over the table and his whole body was rigid with concentration. He was a large man and he filled the room with quiet power.

  "Sir?" Jarod said softly.

  The man turned, "I said no interruptions." His voice was deep and used to giving orders.

  He peered at the intruders from deep-set brown eyes. He stood up, six foot three or more; long white hair tied back with a gold fillet. He obviously enjoyed his meals. His dark tunic draped with a fur-trimmed cloak didn't hide his girth. But he looked light on his feet for a man of his weight.

  There were dark circles and pouches under his eyes and despite his florid coloring he looked wan. The impression lasted only a second. When he saw her he straightened, a mask of reserve falling across his face.

  "Well my boy, what is this?" The man said, the gold torc around his neck glinting in the light.

  "Sir, I found her at the northern boundary."

  Shrewd brown eyes pierced Ariana. "Why are you in my lands?"

  "Well, um sir" she said.

  "Lord Kievran." He gestured for her to continue.

  "My name is Ariana."

  "Whence are you from?"

  "New York, listen I don't want any trouble I just want to get back home..."

  "How did you get past our scouts?"

  "Well, I-."

  "We must be more alert, Jarod." He interrupted. "We can't afford any more mistakes like this one.

  "Yes, sir." Jarod said.

  Kievran turned back to Ariana; he wore an ornate golden dragon brooch that seemed to watch her with its jeweled eyes.

  "Well, how did you get here?" He demanded testily.

  "I don't know. I didn’t mean to trespass; which I tried to explain to him.” She gestured at Jarod. “What I want to know is- what's going on? What is this place? Where am I?"

  "Don’t be insolent, girl. Answer the question. How did you come into my lands?"

  "I’m not being insolent, sir." Ariana started to get irritated. "I really don't know."

  "That’s impossible. You're hiding something." His eyes grew hard. "Are you one of Rhysin’s spies?"

  “Who?” She asked.

  Jarod's hand went to his sword. If Ariana didn't figure out some story in the next two seconds there'd be a corpse on the polished veneer floor.

  "No, I’m no spy." Her mind raced. "On my mother's grave I swear."

  Lord Kievran looked at Ariana, pondering. Sweat beaded above her upper lip and her knees trembled. She locked her knees and bit her lip to stop the quiver. This might be her last few moments but she wasn't going to die with her head down. Ariana squared her shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. He saw her gesture and a slight smile touched his lips.

  "Do you think she's a spy Jarod?" He asked. Jarod's green eyes were analytical as he judged her. He shook his head. "I don't think so. She would tell a better tale.”

  "I agree. Give her time to think. Take her to the keep."

  "No please..." Ariana said.

  "Father, don't you think we'd find out more if..."

  "Are you arguing with me, Jarod?"

  "No sir" Jarod said

  "I am." Ariana muttered.

  "We’ll see what she says after a night in the keep. Until tomorrow."

  He sat down and turned back to his map. Jarod took her arm. Ariana stiffened and jerked away. He said nothing just looking at her. Realizing he was the closest thing she had to an ally she followed him. How to convince Kievran and Jarod she wasn't a spy? Ariana kept hoping she'd wake up and this would be a dream. But the longer it went on the more real it felt.

  Jarod led her to a small barred door, outside stood two guards with spears. Jarod nodded to the men who opened the door. Ariana walked in slowly and turned around.

  "I haven't done anything." She said.

  "I’ll come in the morning." He turned to leave. She searched his face for a glimmer of hope. His expression was neutral. He left.

  Her heart sank; her chances of escape were non-existent. Tears pricked behind her nose. She bit her lip till the blood flowed. These bastards weren’t going to see her cry. Despite her best efforts a small sob escaped. Behind her, the door closed with a hollow boom.

  Chapter Two

  The room was barren. A cot covered in a coarse wool blanket dominated the small room. A flickering candle on a rough three-legged stool gave the only illumination. The walls were stone and Ariana shivered from the draft seeping in under the door. She plopped down on the cot. With only one narrow window, high on the wall there was no way to get out of here. She was trapped.

  The door opened. A dour guard opened the door and put down a tankard and a small plate of bread and cheese. Ariana looked at the food. Her throat was tight and her stomach knotted with fear. The smell of fresh bread filled the cell. She hadn't eaten since the berries. Her mouth flooded with saliva. Breaking off a small chunk of bread and cheese she nibbled the edge of the crust. It was nutty and crunchy, fresh baked and her stomach growled. Then she bit into the tangy, fresh goat's cheese. She stuffed the food into her mouth washing it down with the metallic water.

  Her wet clothes had dried but she was chilled. The blanket looked worse for wear. There was no pillow. She stayed in her clothes and gingerly got under the threadbare cover. She hoped there weren't fleas in the bed. She blew out the candle stub and lay down. Her eyes scanned the darkness. She imagined the squeaking of mice or rats and her skin itched all over as if bugs crawled on her skin. She hated the scratchy wool around her. She hated sleeping in her clothes, without even washing her face or brushing her hair. She had always joked she'd been born in the wrong time.

  She'd lied. She hated this place. She shivered under the thin blanket thinking about the down comforter on her bed. Images of hot baths, perfumed candles and Kate Bush wafting from her stereo tantalized her. Was she trapped here forever? All the things she’d taken for granted all her life streamed through her mind and knowing she was alone with no one to see her weakness she let the tears flow.

  She sobbed muffling her tears into her fist. Fiona would wonder when she didn't call. Fiona was her mother's oldest friend; she ran a B&B in upstate New York, near Ithaca. Some of Ariana’s earliest memories were of the farm. She’d lived there with her mother before they moved to Connecticut when her mother married Sandy. They'd been there on vacation when Julia died. A tourist had gone around a blind curve and hit her head on. She'd died instantly. Everyone was grateful fifteen-year-old Ariana had been out riding instead of driving that day. Ariana still felt guilty. Fiona hadn’t pushed; she’d let Ariana heal in her own time. Ariana had always been grateful for that.

  Thinking about Fiona reminded Ariana of her gift. Had she lost it? She fumbled under her shirt with icy fingers. It was still there. She let out the breath she'd been holding. She took it out. Her hands cradled the crystal, comforted by the unyielding outline, warming under her hands. Sniffling, she decided to try to figure out how to get out of this situation. After a few minutes exhaustion betrayed her and she slept despite her fear.

  She was so hot; something was burning her chest. Her head was killing her. Groggily Ariana sat up. The stone hanging from her neck glowed. Silver radiance washed the coarse walls into a bright blur. Ariana's eyes watered.
She put her hands up to shield her face. Colors shimmered on the far wall so vivid her eyes ached. They coalesced into the image of a jewel, then the shadows of a procession carrying it. The scene shifted to a valley dominated by a crystalline tower. The light glimmered and danced on the brilliant walls. Then darkness came, the tower crumbled.

  The scene shifted again. A lone figure hunched protectively over the stone hurried away from the destruction. Ariana could almost feel the fear as the woman looked over her shoulder at her pursuers. She was young, barely a teenager. Terror distorted her features. But Ariana would have recognized the slender auburn haired figure anywhere. "Mom?" Ariana reached out. The image on the wall grew too bright to look at. Ariana cowered back into the dubious protection of the cot. The brilliance intensified, pain lanced through her head. She screamed. It winked out of existence.

  Her eyes pierced the utter blackness of midnight. Her mother's gift had brought her here. Why? Her heart was pounding and tears ran down her face. The stone was cool against her skin. Ariana shuddered trying to take in enough air. She'd gone crazy. This place had driven her crazy. No, it had just been a nightmare. She looked toward the wall half expecting the scene to be etched into the rock. There was the rattle of keys as the door unlocked.

  "What is it? What's going on?"

  Ariana moved aside to let Jarod enter. The yellow glow of the torch made her eyes water. Jarod's long linen shirt was only half tucked in; unbound hair brushed his shoulders. His face was still rosy from sleep.

  Ariana was silent. The stone glittered in the torchlight. Jarod turned pale. Pushing the guard aside he dragged her down the passage. He was muttering something to himself. Ariana barely heard him. Black spots danced in front of her eyes, her legs and arms prickled. Jarod glanced back and grabbed her as she wilted. Ariana was barely on her feet when they reached Kievran’s chamber. The table was clear and the chair pushed in neatly. Jarod knocked at the door and burst in. Kievran came in from his bedchamber, belting on a quilted maroon robe and barefoot.

  "Jarod, this had better be important." His eyes narrowed as he saw her standing in the doorway. Jarod quickly lit the candle that rested on the table and put the torch in the sconce by the door.

  "It is father, look." Jarod pointed at the jewel at Ariana’s breast. Despite her faintness she tensed. They were looking at her so strangely. She put the stone back under her shirt.

  "What?" Her voice sounded hoarse as if she hadn't spoken in years. She swallowed the lump of fear in her throat. Kievran looked sick, Jarod wildly excited.

  "What’s going on? What just happened?" She said.

  "The Heartstone, I never thought this would happen in my lifetime." Kievran’s hands shook as he lifted the candle and stepped closer to her. The flame jumped wildly. He took a deep breath and strove to collect himself “Where did you get it?"

  "It was a gift." Ariana said.

  “It’s possible but it must be true to the bloodline.” He muttered to himself. He was pale and stricken. There were lines around his eyes that hadn’t existed earlier. "Who gave it to you?" He said.

  "It was my mother's."

  "How did she get it? It's been lost for years."

  "My mother is dead. I have no idea where she got it." Ariana looked at him dully. Seeing her mother's face in the dream or vision had shocked her. It hurt. She had so few pictures of her mother. She still felt faint. Why had her mother had the stone?

  "How did you get here? Who are you? I demand some answers." Kievran said.

  She was tired, tired of Jarod dragging her around, tired of questions, tired of this place. Why had her mother been in the vision? What was she doing here?

  "Listen, I don't know anything. I was at home watching TV. I got this as a birthday present. It was my mother’s. I put it on. Then something happened and I ended up here. Wherever here is."

  "What do you mean?" Kievran demanded.

  "So just lay off. I don't want it anymore. Take it and let me go home." Her hands rose to unclasp the Heartstone’s chain. She couldn't seem to get it open. Kievran stared at her his mouth open like a baby bird. Jarod looked like he'd just gotten his first car.

  "You are the Stonebearer." Jarod dropped to his knees.

  "What are you doing?" Ariana stared at Jarod. Why was he kneeling? "Get up."

  Kievran collected his wits. "Jarod, don't be a fool. You don't believe her?"

  Jarod rose and stood between Ariana and his father. "Yes, it explains the way she's dressed, why she talks so strangely."

  "Jarod you're too trusting. Don't be fooled by a pretty face. She could be an imposter. We have no idea how she came by the Stone. It could be one of Rhysin’s plots."

  "What are you people talking about?"

  "You are fated to return the Stone," Jarod said.

  "Return it where?" Ariana asked.

  "To the Web of Stars." Jarod answered.

  "Only, if she's the destined Stonebearer.” Kievran said, “Fetch the bard Rua, she may know something of these matters.”

  Jarod hurried out the door. Ariana and the Kievran were left studying each other. Ariana remained quiet under his scrutiny. He didn’t trust her and she didn’t want to end up with her head on a pike. Her head was pounding and sharp pains were shooting up behind her eyes. Great just what she needed a headache. She had no time to wallow in self-pity before Jarod returned with Rua.

  She was tall, wrapped hastily in an embroidered silken robe. But what caught the eye was the auburn hair cascading in a tangled mane down her back. She bowed gracefully before Kievran and looked at Ariana. Rua's face was thin, high cheekbones, clever hazel eyes that glowed with curiosity.

  “My lord what brings me before you in such haste?” Her voice was rich, practiced.

  “My pardon lady, on disturbing your rest," Kievran said. Rua nodded. “But we have a problem that only your knowledge can help with. Look closely at this woman before you.”

  Rua peered at Ariana and her eyes widened when she saw the stone. “My lord, is it possible?” She breathed.

  “That’s what we need to know,” Kievran said tightly.

  Rua stepped closer to Ariana. She fumbled with the comb that held back part of her hair. “This pin serves to warn of enchantments. It came from my mother. She was a Guardian.”

  The polished bronze pin was simply set with a gem on one end. Rua held the pin out toward Ariana. As it came closer the small gem flared crimson. Kievran frowned; Jarod gave a triumphant cry.

  “My lord, I have but little skill in magic. For my part I think it may well be the Heartstone but I cannot say for sure.” The bard said tentatively.

  “It could also be a glamour put on by our enemy.” Kievran muttered to himself. “I don’t like this mysterious appearance. Cerynus would know. Send her to him. If she’s a spy he will be able to find out.”

  Rua nodded. Jarod came forward, knelt, and offered his sword hilt first to Ariana.

  "Jarod, I forbid it. You don't know who she is or if she's the one. Stop." Kievran pulled at his son's arm.

  "I believe she is the Stonebearer. You saw the Lady Rua’s brooch. It gives us proof. It's the only chance to stop Rhysin. I have to do this. I shall guide and protect her and the stone."

  "You think on glory without care for yourself, son."

  They’d forgotten Ariana was there. They were standing nose to nose arguing. Voices rose. "Father, honor demands..."

  "You mean glory demands..."

  Rua stepped between them. “My lords…this is not seemly.”

  For a moment brown eyes glared at green then Kievran looked down. "Go ahead. I leave her in your hands. She is your concern." Kievran sat down with a shrug.

  Jarod knelt. "My sword, Heartsblood, to your service, unto death, on the honor of my name." He offered his sword, hilt first to her.

  "I don't want it." Ariana said. Rua smiled faintly. Kievran's face darkened "you would dishonor my son?"

  Ariana stood there with her hands at her sides. Rua stepped close and murmu
red to Ariana.

  "Take his sword. Give it back to him. Thus you accept his oath."

  “Oh, all right.” Ariana muttered.

  She snatched at the sword. It was lighter than it looked. The bronze hilt in the shape of a dragon's head rested in her hand and the patterned length shimmered. She returned the sword to Jarod. He rose sheathing it. He looked satisfied with himself, almost smug.

  “It is witnessed.” Kievran and Rua said in unison gesturing to their hearts.

  "I hope you find glory and honor son, not death. Never mind, 'tis done." Kievran sighed, turning to Ariana. "Very well, Jarod vouches his honor that you are the Stonebearer. I must accept it despite my doubts."

  "But I don't want to return any stupid stone. Find someone else," Ariana said, trying to find the clasp.

  "If I could, I would take the stone and place it in the Web of Stars myself." Jarod said.

  "Well feel free to step in." Ariana said.

  "Magic doesn't work that way." Rua said.

  "This is ridiculous, I don't believe this."

  "The only way for the Stonebearer to part with the Heartstone is to bring it to Galancarrig and place it in the Web of Stars or to die." Kievran said.

  "But I don't want to do this. I want to go home."

  "The stone cannot leave Ledrith." Rua said.

  "So it's die on the quest or stay here forever?" Ariana said sourly.

  Kievran still looked stunned. Rua looked like she was itching to write everything down for posterity. Jarod looked excited. He'd be no help. He was gung-ho, ready for adventure. She’d never wanted adventure. She’d been happy living her tidy life. If she took on the quest, it held out the slim hope of getting home. She didn't know how to survive here in this strange land, so letting Jarod help her was her only hope. If she refused maybe there'd be a convenient accident. She didn't know. Maybe one "Stonebearer" was as good as the next.