Heart of Time (Ruined Heart Series Book 1)

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Heart of Time (Ruined Heart Series Book 1) Page 12

by Skye MacKinnon


  I was freezing. Shivering, I opened my eyes. I was curled up on the wooden floor, with no blanket to protect me from the cold morning breeze that swept through the open window. I’d had a weird dream, yet when I tried to remember, it slipped through my fingers, until it was no more. I stretched my arms and legs to become more awake. Lassadar was no longer in the room, I was alone with the sleeping elvedritsch and her newborn fawn. The little peryton was awake and was observing me with wide eyes. Its fur and scales had lost their wet look, and his bones were no longer as visible as they had been just after its birth. I smiled at him. “Good morning, little one.”

  Good morning.

  Startled, I stared at him. His large eyes were fixed on me; I could almost feel the intensity of his gaze. “Can you understand what I’m saying?”, I whispered as if someone might laugh if they heard me talk to the strange little creature.

  Of course. Food?

  He yawned, then stretched his front legs. His fur shone dark red. Staggering, he came to his feet. His hind legs were trembling slightly, but he managed to stand without falling. His crimson scales were rippling at every movement, sending waves of dark red over his hind quarters. He took a careful step in my direction, and when he didn’t fall, he tried another, until he reached me. He lowered his head and rubbed it against my leg. Instinctively, I extended my hand and stroked his back, feeling his warm fur under my skin. His heart was beating fast, and with every breath he took, his little belly expanded.

  Belly rub!, he demanded, and I complied with a smile. I could feel his ribs sticking out under the red fur. When I tickled the place where his fur gave way to scales, he sighed softly, and rubbed against my fingers, encouraging me to continue. His scales were soft and warm, their plenitude of red shades forming beautiful patterns. The scales on his thighs were the largest ones, about as big as my smallest fingernail, while the ones on his belly and back were tiny, creating a smooth surface. With one finger, I rubbed the place between his big ears, where two small humps promised the future growth of antlers and caressed the outer folds of his warm ears. He closed his eyes, enjoying the attention. When I stopped, he nudged me with his head, and demanded, More!

  While I was continuing to pet the fawn, my thoughts wandered off, centring on Lassadar. Why had he just left us here? Where was he? What plans did he have for the elvedritsch and her young? And, the most important question of them all, could he also hear the peryton’s thoughts?

  Food! The little fawn looked up at me.

  “I don’t have any.” When I heard my own voice in the quiet room, it felt wrong. The peryton wasn’t using his voice, but his mind to communicate with me. Could I do the same? Hello, I thought, but there was no reply. I closed my eyes to concentrate and felt for the feeble link that bound me to the peryton. It had been there for a while, I was sure of it, but for some reason, I had ignored it. When I had laid my hand on the egg, it had hummed, not a physical, but a mental hum. When I had first been brought to Lassadar, half-starved and sickly from spending weeks in the dark, cold prison cell, there had been a voice that spoke to me. Back then I had thought it my exhausted mind playing tricks on me, but now I wondered whether it had been more than that. And the dreams I had those past weeks, dreams of wings and flying and the night’s sky, dreams so vivid that they stayed with me long after I had awoken from my sleep. Dreams that I might have shared with the peryton. I focused on the link and sent a questioning thought its way.

  Hello?

  Food!, he answered impatiently.

  Then come on, we’ll find some.

  I stood up and looked around the room. There was a tray of biscuits on a sideboard, but when I offered one to the fawn, he looked at me with disdain.

  Real food!

  I took one for myself and continued my search of the room. Besides the elvedritsch’s cage, I found a bag of pumpkin seeds. I offered him a handful. Questioningly, the peryton took one with his soft mouth touching my hand, chewing the seed slowly, before shaking his head.

  Then let’s try the kitchen.

  Carry!

  He looked up at me. His legs were trembling; he was not practised enough to stand on his unmatched legs any longer. Carefully, I placed one hand under his soft belly and lifted him up. He put his legs under his body, leant against my chest and looked around curiously, now seeing the world from a new vantage point. He was so small and light that I could easily carry him with a single hand. Slowly, not wanting to frighten him by any sudden movements, I walked to the large door that led to the tower’s spiral staircase. The door was locked. I knocked on the hard wood with my fist, until I could hear the key turn in the lock. A guard opened the door, frowning.

  “What do you want?”

  “I want to get some breakfast for myself and Lord Lassadar’s new pet here.”

  Not his pet!

  I didn’t mean it like that, but you won’t see any food otherwise.

  The guard looked at his partner, then gave me a short nod. “I’ll ask his lordship.” He closed the door again and locked it.

  We were left alone, staring at the door. Lassadar had probably wanted to protect us from the curiosity of the guards or simply turned the key out of habit.

  Wrong thoughts!

  Why?

  But I did not get a reply. The peryton had closed his eyes and was snuggling to my chest, breathing slowly. Not wanting to wake him, I sat down on the armchair and put a pillow on my lap to support the arm the peryton was lying on. Watching the fawn’s chest rise and fall with every breath, I leant back, waiting.

  The peryton was eating noisily, crushing salad leaf after salad leaf between his small jaws. The guard had brought a large plate with a multitude of foods for the fawn to choose from. At first, it seemed like he couldn’t decide on what would be tastiest, but after nibbling on some vegetables he began to eat hungrily and noisily. He ignored the pieces of raw meat in the middle of the plate and instead focused on vegetables and salad. For me, the guard had taken a warm loaf of bread from the kitchen, together with a piece of old crumbly cheese. The bread was delicious, its moist texture made my mouth water even while I was satisfying my own hunger.

  After we had eaten, the peryton looked at me. Mum wants food, too. It was weird to think of the elvedritsch as the fawn’s mother, she looked so different from him in any way. I filled a small bowl with the pumpkin seeds beside her cage and put it in front of her sleeping form. When I approached her, she opened a single golden eye and looked at me lazily, before starting to pick at the seeds. Her large curved beak was ideal for gobbling up one seed at a time. Having sated her hunger, she walked over to her son, who was lying on the floor, leaning against my leg.

  Does she speak to you in your mind? I asked him.

  He sent me a feeling of regret.

  She only feels. I know her hunger. I know her happiness. Not more.

  I reached out to the elvedritsch, but I encountered only a general feeling of her presence without an access to her thoughts.

  She’s tired. Me too.

  You’ve slept the whole day!

  Sleeping good for you, he told me wisely, before nodding off again. I stayed in my sitting pose, not wanting to wake him by getting into a more comfortable position. I waited.

  Wake up!

  The urgency in the peryton’s thought made me jump out of my dreams immediately. Lassadar was staring at me, a slight smile to his lips. “Here you are, I thought you’d be in your room.” How kind of him to wonder about my whereabouts. How could a noble lord such as Lassadar care about me?

  He locked the door!

  I pushed the thought aside. Lassadar’s smile got wider, and he held out a hand to help me up. I took it, and he pulled me to my feet. The peryton that had been leaning on my thigh shot me an annoyed look, then staggered into a standing position, flapping his delicate wings. He was still swaying slightly but already looked much more stable on his feet than he had yesterday.

  “The King has asked me to bring you to him, he has a task fo
r you. I brought you a more fitting dress, you can use my screen to get changed. There’s no time for you to take a bath, the King doesn’t like to be kept waiting. Come on, get dressed. I’ll look after the little peryton there while.”

  He shooed me behind the screen, passing me a long green dress. Its fabric was more delicate than any I had ever seen, it was as light as a feather, yet opaque and not too thin. When I put it on, I noticed that the fabric ended just above the décolletage, leading over to fine lace that covered my shoulders and arms. Thin emerald twines were embroidered on the lace, making the fabric seem less transparent and at the same time more revealing. When I looked at the mirror that stood behind the screen, I held my breath. It was the most beautiful dress I had ever seen. And now I was wearing it, me, Eona, the travelling girl, the acrobat, the nobody.

  “Ready?”, Lassadar asked impatiently. With difficulty, I tore my glance away from the mirror and stepped out from the screen.

  “It suits you. Seamstress Nia made it, she’s one of my best discoveries. I found her living in a tiny village, ostracised by her fellow villagers for her height, yet the talent for tailoring was burning brightly within her. I had her brought here to Gynt’s Keep to apprentice with the old tailor Hughes, whose fading eyesight meant that he could no longer work as efficiently as he used to. He taught her all he knew and look where she is now, making clothes for the king himself. Such a talent, wasted where she was before. But I digress, we should leave immediately. Take the peryton, the king wants to see him too, the little beauty. We’ll leave the elvedritsch here, he’s already seen her.”

  With that, he left the room, expecting me to follow. I took the yawning peryton in my arms and hurried to catch up with Lassadar. Down the spiral staircase we went until we stepped out into the bright courtyard that led to Healer Reaving’s garden. Instead of going there, we turned left through corridors and rooms, ignoring the people that bowed to Lord Lassadar and shot curious glances in my direction. The peryton was turning his head from left to right, and back again, trying to take in as much as possible of this alien world. I didn’t know the route Lassadar was taking us, but he was walking fast, and I had trouble keeping up. No time to look at the rooms and people around us. Healer Reaving had only ever taken me to parts of the castle that were largely deserted; we’d meet servants from time to time, but they were usually hurrying along, ignoring us. Now, I saw well-dressed nobles standing in small groups, discussing important matters, arguing, at least that was what it looked like. There were pets at their feet, large dogs, a cat or two, and one old lady held a spotted rabbit in her gloved arms.

  No peryton.

  Are there many of you?

  Used to. Now, don’t know. Can’t feel any. Not close.

  “Hurry up”, Lassadar called. He was standing by two guards, gesticulating wildly. They stood in front of a large golden door, at least three times as high as myself, with roaring lions embedded in the glazing tiles. The guards were both dressed in dark blue garments, one had a sword sheath and a long curved knife hanging from his broad belt, the other was leaning on his lance. By the time I reached Lassadar, one of the guards had disappeared behind the golden door, the other one was eyeing me curiously, yet his face stayed a professional mask.

  “Lord Lassadar, what a pleasure to see you! I might come up to you later today, I’ve got some news you might be interested in. And who is that charming young lady beside you?” A broad-shouldered man had detached from a small group of nobles standing to the left and was approaching with wide steps. His whiskers were of a pure white, yet his sparse hair was as black as the night. Sharp eyes under heavy brows were scrutinising me. Despite my opaque dress, I felt naked under his look.

  “What kind of creature is that?!”, he shouted dramatically, drawing the attention of the entire room to myself and the peryton. Lassadar took a step towards him, putting his body between me and the man.

  “It’s nothing that concerns you, Valter, nor any others but the King. Tame your curiosity, and step back. You’re frightening my companion.”

  Lassadar’s voice was icy, and it had the desired effect on Valter. He gave a short bow and retreated to his group of nobles, yet still kept looking at me and the peryton. I turned away from his curious stare. Luckily, we didn’t have to wait for long. The guard returned, beckoning us to enter. The large golden doors opened for us. I had expected to enter the throne room, yet before us lay just another waiting room, but this one was void of any people. There were a few heavily decorated chairs lining the walls, cowering under rich tapestries that depicted a unicorn in different poses.

  “While we wait, have a look at this story. First, in this tapestry, the hunters enter the woods. Look at all these plants in the background, all that detail! Healer Reaving has been studying them, trying to discover which plants and herbs our ancestors found important enough to immortalise in this way. Here, on the second one, the hunters attack the unicorn, driving their spears into its innocent flesh. See the fear in the unicorn’s eyes, how it tries to get away from the men and their hounds. And here, in the third tapestry, it finds its strength, fighting its pursuers, stabbing one of their dogs with its beautiful horn, its alicorn, as some call it. But it’s wounded, and its strength leaves it. Here, look at this one. In the top left corner, they stab it again and again with their lances, until it dies, the last unicorn. Then they put it onto a horse, a simple horse. What a fate for the most beautiful beast, for the king of all equidae, being carried off by a mere sumpter. Look at how the nobles stare at the dead unicorn when they get him to their castle. I’ve always been intrigued by this couple here. The lady offers her arm to a lord, she smiles at him, full of love, yet her other hand touches the horse that carries the dead unicorn, making it look like an accidental gesture, diminishing the value of the unicorn. She makes love between humans look more important than the pursuit of all that is noble and beautiful. For her, the death of the unicorn is meaningless. Sometimes, I just want to erase her from the tapestry, burning her out of it, until she begs for mercy.”

  He cleared his throat, stopping his flow of words.

  Said too much, the peryton commented. I glanced down on him, comfortably snuggling against my arm. His fiery colouring was in a sharp contrast to the emerald green of my dress. He was looking up at me, his dark eyes glistening. Even though his thoughts were simple, I could feel his intelligence waiting behind those mirroring eyes. He was only a young fawn, who knows what he might grow up to be in a few months or years. How long did it take deer to grow to their full size?

  No idea. Not a deer.

  I smiled. Yes, you’re not a deer. You’re a very special little peryton. So special that the King wants to see you.

  And you.

  Yes. For whatever reason that may be.

  “Kneel”, Lassadar whispered. I complied, bowing before the King of Fer, pressing my knees onto the thick red cushion that lay on the stone floor in front of me. Lassadar was beside me, holding the peryton. He had protested when the lord had taken him from my arms, but Lassadar seemed unable to hear his complaints. However, I could, and I had a hard time not smiling.

  Big man stinks. Too high up. Want back!

  But now that we were kneeling in front of the King, he had fallen silent. Guards had asked us to step into the throne room, leaving the tapestries behind us. I had only had a glimpse of the King sitting in his splendour before I had dutifully lowered my eyes and kneeled.

  “You may rise”, a deep voice, pleasant and polite, said. I complied, and from the corner of my eye, I could see Lassadar do the same. I shot a careful glance towards the man on the throne. He was thin, his spidery arms leaning on the sides of the golden seat, one of them holding a scroll. He did not look at us but was busy reading. That gave me some more time to observe the sovereign of Fer. His grey hair fell in thin strands beneath his heavy crown, his lined face was as peckish as his body. He was clad in a heavy fur-trimmed cloak so broad that it made him look even thinner, the blue velvet matching La
ssadar’s outfit. His shoes were golden, with black laces, their tips pointed. His fingers were heavy with rings, and around his neck fell a heavy golden chain. He did not look as I had imagined the King. There was no flesh on him, he was all skin and bones hiding under his opulent clothes. But when he lifted his dark eyes to look at Lassadar and myself, I could see the force of royalty in their strong gaze.

  “Lord Lassadar. Eona. We need your help.”

  10

  He was just a little boy

  No older than his peers

  When he took up the king’s own spears

  And used them as his toy.

  He was just a little boy

 

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