Heart of the Land

by Sarah Prineas

  A faint trembling arose from the stone at their feet. He and the others stared at each other. The mottled pattern on the huge stone that surrounded them became clearer, orange scales among the black.

  Rollan examined it. He knew this pattern. At the same time, he finally realized why the shape of the rock had seemed so familiar. One end of the crescent had been roughly carved into the shape of a head with a wide, lizardlike mouth; the body of the lizard sculpture curved around them, ending in a stubby tail.

  “A gila monster,” he breathed. He’d seen gila monsters before. They were lizards of Amaya, desert reptiles that moved slowly over the stones that baked in the summer heat. But most were much smaller than this carved monolith.

  Rollan had heard the legends of the great gila monster, of course. Every region of Erdas had its own myths, stories of powerful animals and their human partners. Typically they roamed around, rescuing maidens or princes and granting wishes and some such nonsense.

  Zerif had once hoped to bank on those stories by bonding four young Conquerers to imposter legends, in order to discredit the newly reborn Four Fallen. Devin Trunswick, now Worthy, had been one of those very Conquerors.

  “Rollan,” whispered Abeke, her eyes wide. “Was this carving made to honor the real gila monster?”

  As she spoke, there was a distant sound, like one huge rock scraping over another, and the trembling of the stone floor turned to shaking. A faint mist arose from the ground, filling the area inside the crescent. Then the mist started spinning slowly, becoming thicker.

  To Rollan’s astonishment, as the mist swirled around, it drew into itself into the shape of a woman standing in the center of the round room made by the curve of the gila monster’s body. Her outlines were hazy, but he could see that she had a broad face with high cheekbones, a short, stocky, broad-shouldered body, and hair in two braids that hung down almost to her waist.

  She was a woman long dead. She, Rollan felt sure, must have been the human partner to that legendary gila monster.

  When the spirit spoke, Rollan heard it inside his head, not with his ears—a hollow, echoing rumble.

  The lands of Erdas are facing their greatest threat, the spirit grated out, and they send children. Children! Her misty eyes seemed to look them over. Eura. Nilo. Zhong. Seeing Rollan, she nodded. And Amaya. I am Kikimi.

  Rollan felt deeply reverent. This spirit existed outside of time. She was a legend. He bowed. “Greetings, Kikimi.”

  Then he felt Meilin’s elbow in his side. “Did she speak to you?” she whispered.

  “You didn’t hear her?” Rollan whispered back.

  All three of the other Greencloaks shook their heads, wide-eyed.

  Rollan turned back to the spirit. “Kikimi,” he said carefully, “we’ve come to reveal the Heart of the Land.”

  With a sound that rumbled in Rollan’s bones like an earthquake, Kikimi nodded. Her face took on more heavy solidity. She looked like an idol carved out of living rock. When she spoke again, her hollow voice grew deeper and more echoey inside Rollan’s head. There is a great force in nature—and in human nature—that wants everything to fall apart, to be torn until there are no countries and no families and no friendships, and there is nothing left but a vast wasteland. That is the way of distrust, disunity, division, darkness, and … She paused, and Rollan felt the weight of centuries bearing down on him. Death, the spirit concluded.

  “What’s she saying?” Abeke whispered to him.

  “Darkness, other d-words, death,” Rollan answered. “Now be quiet. She’s saying something else.”

  The other way is unity, Kikimi intoned. Do you choose the way of life and warmth and hope?

  “Yes,” said Rollan. He turned to his friends. “Say yes,” he urged.

  “Yes!” they all said together.

  It is well, the spirit said. The Heart of the Land has been revealed. Take it.

  Rollan turned and saw that a warm glow was emanating from the hole in the side of the gila monster structure. Carefully he put his hand in, and he felt the bumpy surface of the rock—and more. Grasping it with his fingers, he pulled it out. The others gathered closer to see. In his hand, the scales covering the rock started to crumble like a burned crust, and fell away to show the revealed Heart of the Land, which glowed softly, a rounded chunk of amber stone with something dark trapped in its center. It had been carved and smoothed into the shape of a gila monster, tightly curled, its stubby tail tucked under its chin. And it was set on a chain—an amulet.

  Rollan could feel it pulsing with power and possibility.

  The spirit of the hero nodded, as if she could read his mind. Anyone wielding the Heart can be as the gila monster, she said.

  Rollan looked up at her. Kikimi’s eyes were oddly piercing, as if she were looking at him from across many, many years. “Be as … how?” he asked.

  It is called the Heart of the Land for a reason, Kikimi said. It was our two hearts, made into one. Unified. The spirit cast a mournful glance at the face of the lizard that surrounded them.

  And it offers great power, but power can be misused. The spirit turned, as if she was looking past them, toward the shore of the lake. Then she turned back. Others are seeking the Heart. They will try to take it from you.

  As she spoke, the ground started trembling again. Little rags of mist started tearing from Kikimi’s shape and whirling away. Her image faded. Beware! her hollow voice said, echoing in Rollan’s head as she disappeared. The Heart will give great power to whoever wields it, even if they are not Marked. You must not let the Heart fall into wicked hands!

  And then every wisp of mist was gone.

  Rollan looked away and saw the other three Greencloaks staring at him.

  Then they looked down at the amulet in Rollan’s palm. It still glowed softly with its own light. The pattern on the sculpture that surrounded them had faded. It was as if they had been in a room separate from the outer world; all of a sudden, sounds from outside penetrated the room, and a breeze curled around their feet. Rollan looked out to see the clouds breaking up and the surface of the lake glinting where it was touched by beams of sunlight.

  And … something else.

  Quickly Rollan stepped out of the embracing circle of the gila monster sculpture and called Essix from passive state. She flashed out, catching the wind with her wings and soaring from the top of the island. Closing his eyes, Rollan looked at what she saw.

  Black-clad figures had gathered on the shore of the lake.

  Anka and Worthy stood on the sand bridge that led to the island. They were fighting, but they were being driven back, step by step.

  The Oathbound army had arrived.

  “THEY’RE HERE,” ROLLAN SAID, WITH A QUICK GLANCE at Meilin.

  She nodded, immediately understanding. The Heart of the Land had been revealed, and now the Oathbound would try to take it, and then arrest the Greencloaks.

  “Let’s go!” Abeke said. She headed for the edge of the island, where they could start climbing to the beach, far below. Meilin and the others followed.

  Conor went first, resolutely not looking down. Then Abeke, and then Rollan, who was busy putting the revealed Heart into his pocket, and then Meilin was sliding on her stomach over the edge of the cliff, feeling for the first foothold with her boot.

  She felt the need to hurry making her nerves jangle, but every step had to be carefully considered. She could hear faint shouts from the Oathbound as they rallied on the lakeshore.

  Battle was awaiting them. They would need every weapon at their disposal.

  “Rollan!” she called over her shoulder. Glancing down, she saw him pause and look up at her, then nod to show that he was listening. “How can we use the amulet in the fight?”

  Rollan started climbing down again, his gaze on the stone cliff two inches from his nose. “I’m not sure,” he panted. His voice sounded hoarse. “Kikimi—the spirit—she said that the Heart can make the wielder as the gila monster. I think gila monsters have a ve
nomous bite. But there are stories.… ” He paused while climbing over a tricky spot. “Be careful here,” he said. “The rock’s a little slippery.”

  Carefully, Meilin continued. Climbing down was definitely harder than climbing up. At least they weren’t doing it in the middle of a howling thunderstorm. “Stories about the gila monster?” she prompted.

  “Myths, really,” Rollan called up to her. “They’re sacred to some of the people who live in the west of Amaya. The gila monsters are burrowers. But,” he added, sounding doubtful, “I don’t think they are very powerful. They’re kind of slow, and they like to stay hidden. The Heart might not be able to help us much.”

  Well, then, they wouldn’t count on any help from the Heart. They were on their own. Meilin tried to ignore the dread gathering in her chest. There were hundreds of Oathbound waiting for them on the lakeshore. They’d been in some tough fights before, but they’d never faced odds this terrible. What if the Oathbound army’s orders were to kill them instead of arresting them? They might not get out of this alive.

  Below her, Abeke had reached the pebbly beach; a moment later, Conor joined her and they both called forth their spirit animals. Uraza bounded from the passive state with a snarl. Briggan raised his head and howled out a challenge to the Oathbound on the lakeshore. Essix swooped lower as Rollan jumped down to the beach, his heavy brown cloak swirling behind him. The falcon settled on his shoulder, her wings half open, ready to launch herself into flight as soon as Rollan gave the word. Abeke was busy stringing her bow and unwrapping the piece of leather that had protected the arrows in her quiver from the rain.

  Meilin jumped down beside them and called Jhi from passive state. The panda yawned and then settled on her haunches, as if waiting to see what was going to happen. The presence of Jhi made Meilin feel suddenly stronger and more steady.

  From the direction of the lakeshore came the sounds of shouted orders. The Oathbound had seen them reach the base of the cliff. Halfway along the bridge of sand, Worthy was fighting alone to keep a line of Oathbound attackers from crossing to the island. Fortunately, because the sand bridge was so narrow, he only had to face one attacker at a time. He was so fiercely fast and lithe from his black panther traits that he didn’t even need any weapons, just his retractable claws. Behind him crouched the faint outline that was Anka. Hiding, not fighting.

  The man coming for Worthy had a long spear. Worthy leaped back to avoid a thrust, and as his feet hit the sand it quivered and turned to liquid. He started sinking. Meilin heard the Redcloak yowl as he sank up to his knees. It had turned to quicksand—just as Worthy had feared!

  The army of Oathbound soldiers—over a hundred, Meilin guessed—were massed on the beach, ready to converge on the Greencloaks once they fought their way across the bridge and reached the lakeshore.

  “We are in big trouble,” Rollan said, pulling out his knife.

  “Six against a hundred or more,” Abeke added. Gripping her bow, she bounced on the balls of her feet, looking ready to leap into action. “And they’ve got at least three Marked warriors with them.”

  Rollan squinted, using his keen sight to scan the enemy. “Yep. Wikam the Just with his vulture, and the spider guy. And an Amayan … ” He shook his head. “His animal is something that flies really, really fast. I can’t get a good look at it.”

  Meilin stepped quickly to Rollan’s side. “If we’re captured, can you give Essix the Heart so she can escape with it?”

  He jerked out a quick nod, then rubbed his throat as if it hurt.

  “Listen,” Meilin said. Unsheathing her sword, she glanced around at her friends and their spirit animals. “We don’t have to defeat them. We just have to fight through and escape. All right?”

  “We’re ready,” Conor said, resting a hand on Briggan’s head. The wolf panted, eager for battle.

  Rollan nodded, and Abeke gave a neat salute with her bow. “Ready!”

  “For the Greencloaks!” Meilin shouted, her heart pounding. “Let’s go!”

  She led the way, racing over the sand bridge. By the time she passed Anka and reached Worthy, he was up to his waist in the quicksand, bleeding from a wound in his side but still fighting furiously. With one swift stroke of her sword she dealt with the spearman who’d been poking at Worthy. He tumbled, shrieking, into the icy lake water.

  A blur of gold and black, and Uraza bounded past. Abeke fired an arrow as she leaped, followed closely by Briggan and Conor, whose ax whirled above his head.

  Meilin yelled in the direction she’d last seen Anka. “Help them!”

  As she moved, Anka revealed herself, sand colored. She nodded, looking grim and a little scared, then went after the other Greencloaks.

  There was a ripple down the line of Oathbound on the sand bridge, as the attackers turned to defenders, and their warlike shouts turned to cries of fear.

  Quickly sheathing her sword, Meilin found firm footing. Behind the mask, she could see Worthy’s eyes, wide and frightened.

  “I’m very glad to see you at this particular moment,” he gasped.

  Seizing his hands, Meilin pulled with all her strength. But he was stuck, sinking deeper into the sucking sand. Ahead, she could hear the sound of Uraza’s snarls, and screams and splashes as Abeke and Conor, with Anka’s help, battled their way through the line of Oathbound on the sand bridge. But there were still way too many Oathbound, led by Wikam, waiting for them on the shore.

  Panting, Meilin kept pulling at Worthy’s hands, but he was already up to his chest. “Stop struggling!” she yelled at him. “You’re only making it worse!”

  Then, from behind her came a deep roar—a quick glance over her shoulder showed Jhi, her heavy body starting to sink. The panda lurched, and the quicksand flowed over her paws.

  “Oh no,” Meilin panted. Releasing Worthy’s hands—he yowled in terror—she turned to call Jhi back into passive state; the panda went with a mournful roll of her dark eyes.

  To her dismay, Rollan wasn’t coming to help. He stood at the beginning of the sand bridge, and his lips were moving as if he was talking to himself. His long knife was lowered.

  “Rollan!” she yelled. They needed him to fight!

  He nodded, looking distracted. “Coming!” he shouted, but he didn’t move.

  Behind her, Worthy was babbling. “I’m sorry I ever thought you were scary, Meilin, just get me out of here, it’s—gah! I’m sinking! I promise I’ll do anything you—”

  Meilin turned back to face him. “Shut up, Worthy,” she muttered. He was up to his armpits now, his chin raised, keeping his mouth above the waves that lapped over the sand bridge. Grabbing his hands, she pulled.

  Then, to her horror, the sand under her feet suddenly turned to liquid and she started to sink. In a blink, she was ankle deep in the sand. She tried to pull one foot out, and the other sank deeper.

  “We are so dooooomed,” she heard Worthy moan.

  A second later, and she was trapped up to her knees. Twisting her body, she saw that Rollan had finally stepped onto the sand bridge. He looked like he was coming to help.

  “Stay there!” she yelled frantically. “If you try to help us, you’ll get trapped, too!”

  But he kept coming, striding over the quivering sand. As he came, he raised his fist—he was holding the Heart amulet, and its amber glow leaked between his fingers.

  Meilin felt a grinding thunder rumbling up from below. All around, the lake’s waves churned, white with foam.

  “Hold on!” Rollan shouted at her. Taking another step, he brought the hand holding the Heart down like a hammer. A deep boom rolled out from it, and with a whoosh, the quicksand holding Meilin and Worthy spat them out like a couple of melon seeds. Meilin stumbled to her knees, panting. Worthy lay on his stomach, trembling. “Ground,” he mumbled, talking to the sand bridge, “if my arms were long enough, I would hug you right now.” He got shakily to his feet. Blood was streaming from a cut over his ribs.

  Without stopping, Rollan strode past the
m. “Get down!” he shouted to Abeke and Conor, and as they flattened themselves he brought the hammer down again. Meilin clung to the sand bridge as it writhed like a snake in an earthquake. Worthy wobbled and went to his knees behind her. All along the heaving bridge, the Oathbound were tossed into the lake, shrieking, throwing away their heavy weapons so they could swim.

  Rollan whirled. Catching Meilin’s eye, he grinned wildly, his hair tousled, his brown cloak whipping around him. “Heart of the Land, Meilin!” he shouted, and raised the glowing amulet in his clenched fist. “We should have realized—the gila monster has the power of the earth!”

  THE BRIDGE-QUAKE HAD KNOCKED ALL THE Oathbound into the lake. Abeke climbed to her feet, holding her bow well above the water so the string wouldn’t get wet. Uraza bounded ahead of her. After a quick glance to see Conor and Briggan just a pace behind her, Abeke followed on light feet. Farther back was the blur that was Anka, and Meilin, her sword glinting in the light. Worthy was taking giant pantherlike leaps, his red cloak swirling behind him, and then came Rollan with Essix swooping low over his head, shrieking out a challenge.

  Shaking back her braids, Abeke echoed that cry. “For the Greencloaks!” she shouted.

  “For the Greencloaks!” her friends joined in.

  “And the Redcloaks!” Worthy yowled.

  Her teeth bared with excitement, Abeke looked ahead as she raced along the narrow bridge. On the shore awaited a wall of Oathbound soldiers, all dressed in black uniforms with brass armor protecting their necks and their lower arms. Farther back she saw Wikam the Just, taller than all the others, issuing orders. The huge vulture was hunched on his shoulder.

  Wikam, who wanted to unjustly arrest the Greencloaks, throw them into a prison, and condemn them to death—for something they hadn’t done!

  He would be her target.

  Snarling, Uraza reached the shore first, and the Oathbound soldiers fell back before her, giving Abeke room to begin her attack. As the other Greencloaks swarmed off the sand bridge, Abeke and Uraza cut sideways, using their leopard-given stealthiness to dodge a spear thrust. Another leap, and Abeke was past two more Oathbound swordsmen, drawing an arrow from her quiver and trying to spot Wikam amid the whirl of fighting. Uraza crouched beside her, ready to pounce. From the lakeshore by the sand bridge came the sound of clashing weapons, shouted orders, and then Briggan’s howl as he entered the fray.