Heart of Farellah: Book 1

by Brindi Quinn

  I strained my eyes to find the source of the disturbance, but before I could detect anything, infestation or otherwise, a hand covered my mouth, and I was pulled back into the embrace of someone much larger than a bat.

  “Mboumf?!” But my cry was muffled.

  What!? There’s not supposed to be anyone in here! Completely confused, I struggled to escape, but my captor’s grip was too strong.

  “Umbf!” I let out another muffled cry and continued to fight back until . . . “Unh?” What’s this?

  It was almost as if . . .

  The captor’s grip suddenly felt good. It was warm but not just warm; there was something soothing about the warmth; it was . . . familiar. I was almost certain I knew this captor. Or at least their warmth. I closed my eyes and let it into my skin, and my heartbeat quickened in response. But not just my heartbeat; my blood liked it too. It became alive, slithering down my veins and twisting through my body in warm enjoyment.

  Without really thinking, I stopped resisting.

  “Scream not, or I shall kill you where you stand.” Despite the familiarity of the warmth, I stiffened in fear when a woman’s voice cut through the darkness in front of me. She had a strange accent, unlike any I’d heard before.

  “You are far too harsh, cousin,” said a second voice, also foreign. It was my captor – male – and his tone was strangely gentle.

  “Ummf?” I mumbled.

  “Do not fear,” he said, turning his attention to me. He didn’t sound at all familiar, but then . . . why was the embrace so comfortable?

  I was completely still in his arms, but I didn’t know why. I couldn’t comprehend my own body’s response.

  Shouldn’t I be struggling to get away from you?

  “We need to take you from here,” he continued. “The safety of your village depends on it.” He held me closer. “This is the best place to do it. No one will tread into the cave, for fear of disturbing the ritual. We will have a day’s advantage.”

  I didn’t understand. They were taking me? Then why wasn’t I afraid? It was this warmth. It made me feel trusting. Captivated. Intoxicated.

  Who are you? What sort of person emits an aura like this?

  I tried to swivel my head to look at him, but it was no use. His grip was too tight.

  “Enough of this!” spat the first voice impatiently. A burst of red light shot from its direction and headed straight for me, blinding my darkness-adjusted eyes.

  I heard the male whisper, “Sorry,” before everything grew hazy and my body fell limp.

  Chapter 2: The Captive

  Fresh air filled my lungs. I was back outside. Had I made it through the Rite? I’d walked through the darkness, and then . . . I couldn’t remember.

  I groggily opened my eyes.

  I was on the floor of a forest, propped against a tree. I tried to stand, but the tree’s rough bark scratched the back of my neck, rawing my skin and making me wince. I made it only a few inches before slumping back to the ground, dizzy and angry at my weak legs.

  Shaka, shaka, shaka. Marocanflies flew overhead, filling the forest with their shaking bumbles. I listened to their rhythm and tried to clear my head. Little by little it started to come back to me.

  Someone had been in the cave waiting for me. There had been a burst of red light, and then I’d woken up here. The Rite had been interrupted; I hadn’t discovered my song. Everything had gone exceedingly wrong, yet for some reason I felt incredibly calm for a person that had just been kidnapped. I was more perplexed than anything. Why would someone want to take me of all people?

  A lazy tuft of cloud passed, uncovering the western moon. It was my favorite of the moons, the one that was always full. Those familiar light-pink beams were a small comfort to me as they streamed through the treetops and illuminated the surrounding wood, but that comfort died when I realized that there was something else they illuminated as well: the silhouettes of my captors, who were standing several feet away.

  Are they . . . thugs?!

  I gripped at some nearby dirt, hoping it might be able to defend me in some unforeseeable way, but the dirt did nothing besides crumble between my fingertips. Regardless, I held it tightly.

  The thugs or whoever they were appeared to be talking rather animatedly about something, but though I strained my ears, I could make out only murmurs. Again I tried to stand, knowing that this might be my only chance to make a break for it, but this time, the movement alerted them. Their whispers stopped, and the figures began to move swiftly towards me.

  I slid down the bark and braced myself.

  Both were tall and slender and seemed to glide along the forest floor in large, prancing strides. I’d never seen anything like it before, and for a moment, I forgot to feel afraid of this unidentified threat, instead amazed by the fluidity of their movements.

  “Graceful,” I muttered almost inaudibly to no one. It was a pointless emission of awe that had been unavoidable in my dazed state. Are they from the village? It wasn’t likely.

  As the thugs neared, I saw that it was a man and a woman. I couldn’t tell for sure, but they looked to be past the end of their second decade. Clad in simple, dull garments, they appeared to be mostly normal – until I saw their hair. Even in this light it looked . . .

  Green?

  It couldn’t be!

  I did a double take.

  No, they both definitely had green hair. The woman’s was bright emerald; the man’s dark and mossy. Next I saw their ears – long and pointed – and my heart skipped.

  These were no ordinary Sapes; they were Elves!

  I knew Elves existed, of course, but I’d heard only stories; myths and hearsay. They rarely traveled outside of their kingdom, and never had one set foot in Farellah since the days of my great-grandmother. But despite that . . .

  I was kidnapped by Elves? Even as I thought them, the words seemed entirely impossible.

  But impossible or not, they were Elves and they were gliding right up to me. I edged myself up against the tree, feeling trapped and realizing I had nowhere to run. My legs were still shaky, my head still foggy.

  It was the woman who spoke first, and when she did, her voice dripped with contempt.

  “We were sent to retrieve you, Rosh girl.”

  This contempt turned my trapped feeling into one of complete panic. I immediately understood that she was probably going to hurt me.

  “R-retrieve? Why?” I struggled to gain composure.

  “You are of great importance to our elders. They have called for you.”

  “Elders?” I said. “There must be some mistake!” I was trying to think of an escape plan, but I don’t know why I bothered since I’d never had need of an escape plan before, and such things would surely not come naturally to me. “Why would someone call for me?”

  “Are you the only child of Rosh in the village of Farellah?” asked the woman, still contempt-filled.

  “Child of Rosh? I guess, as of now, yes.” There weren’t any others since . . . Illuma.

  The male Elf spoke:

  “As of now?” he said quietly.

  I looked over at him, and my cheeks grew hot in remembrance of the warmth. It was an embarrassing reaction, but I couldn’t stop it, so I only ignored it. When he’d captured me, I’d felt I’d known him, but now I knew it was impossible. I’d never known an Elf, and I definitely didn’t know him.

  Strange. I’d been so sure.

  His expression was much softer than the female’s, but he seemed uncomfortable or something.

  “I used to have a sister,” I said cautiously.

  “And what of your sister?” he asked. There was a flicker of some unknown emotion in his eyes. . . . Fear?

  “My sister passed through the Mistlands.”

  “Aha!” sang the female Elf, voice triumphant. “That proves everything! See, cousin, she is the Heart of Havoc. Your worry was needless!”

  “What?!” I sputtered, losing the little comfort I’d gained from the male’s
presence.

  Heart of Havoc? I’d never heard of it, but it didn’t sound good.

  The woman narrowed her eyes. “Do not pretend that you do not know, Evil Heart! You possess a Song of Destruction that shall ruin us all!”

  Now I was getting mad. I was confused and sore, and she was way too self-righteous. Even for a captor.

  “Destruction?!” I said. “What the heck are you talking about!?” Fed up with her, I turned to the male. My intention was to stand my ground, but again, upon looking at him, my cheeks grew hot. My neck was soon to follow. Inadvertently, my cross brow lifted, and I found myself waiting calmly for his response.

  He stared at my hair a moment before answering, “Our legends tell of a songstress with black eyes and starlight hair carrying the Song of Destruction that shall end the world.”

  I muzzily tried to make sense of it. “End the world?”

  Songstress . . . starlight . . . destruction?

  “Child of Rosh, we believe you to be that maiden.” His tone was heavy, sad.

  “Me?” I stared at him in disbelief.

  The Elves were crazy. That was the only explanation.

  “Pathetic,” said the female Elf. “Are you feeling sorry for this witch?” She too had detected the sympathy in his voice. “Foolishness!”

  With that, she muttered something under her breath and formed her hands into a circle at her chest. An orb of red light shot out of her and hit me in the mouth. Once again, my body fell limp from her binding spell, but this time, though my thoughts became murky, I didn’t lose consciousness.

  The male Elf caught me and scooped me into his arms.

  Ah! But the cry was internal. My words seemed to be bound as well.

  He pulled me close to his chest, and my stomach dropped a bit. I was close to him, right against his body, so why wasn’t I afraid? Even in my droopy and confused state, his embrace felt good. Intoxicatingly warm.

  I studied his face, for the first time getting a good look at him. His eyes weren’t just green; they were deep forest green, captivating and enigmatic. Despite an obvious sadness, he had a mischievous, almost impish look about him. He certainly didn’t look like a thuggish kidnapper, but there he was, whisking me away to the unknown.

  I wanted to wonder where they were taking me, what their intentions were, and what all that gibberish had been about a ‘destructive song’; but fresh from the binding, my brain wouldn’t work fast enough, and those thoughts made me feel dizzy. So I just gave in to the spell and selfishly let myself enjoy the Elf’s warm familiarity.

  He carried me through the forest for several hours but never appeared winded. The woman led the way, cutting through dead branches every now and then with a burst of red light, leaving the branch remains sizzling with a red glow even after the light had died. I could only watch through half-closed eyes, amazed and wondering if all Elves were this powerful. The stories had made them out to be simple, forest dwellers, but these were clearly much more.

  They ran onward with swift ease, never speaking. I tried to stay awake, even though my eyelids had long since decided that they wanted to join the rest of my body in limp surrender. I fought them diligently, pulling them open every time they fluttered shut.

  At one point, in an attempt to stimulate my mind enough to keep it coherent, I looked up at my captor, only to find him studying my face, lost in thought. He quickly looked away when I met his gaze, but I kept my eyes there and after a moment he glanced back down. I was fully aware that it made him uncomfortable, but I continued to study him. My drunkenness made me disregard formalities like recognizing another’s discomfort . . . as if captors deserved pleasantries like those, anyway.

  I’d always heard that the Elves aged differently than most of the other races. In fact, it was supposedly nearly impossible to determine an Elf’s true age. Was that true of this Elf? I bore my eyes further into his and tried to decide if there was really an old man in there. This time it was too much, his discomfort won, and he looked away for good.

  But I had already decided. Hidden behind the sadness was a youthful spirit. He was surely around the end of his second decade, like me. I found myself blushing at the realization. It was absurd to be feeling so, under the circumstances, but I was too dazed to reprimand myself for the foolish response.

  Diligently the Elves sprinted, and I lost track of time. I’m certain I fell asleep for a while, but the sleep couldn’t have been very deep, for I felt it when the Elves’ pace slowed, alerting me that they were reaching their destination.

  The morning stars had yet to twinkle when we came upon a small, shoddy inn in the center of a clearing of young trees. Its sign read, Heaven’s Den. Aside from the dimly lit, dirt-coated windows, it appeared inviting enough, though ‘heavenly’ was a bit of a stretch. I wondered if I’d finally be released from the spell once inside. I was still drowsy, but I resolved to pull myself to a state of alertness that would allow me to find out their true intentions and clear up that ‘Heart of Havoc’ nonsense. If these were really some kind of Elf-thug hybrids, I’d have to be at top wit to outsmart them.

  They approached the inn but didn’t enter, instead stealing around its backside.

  “Here is fine,” hissed the female Elf. She pointed to a cluster of barrels along a decaying fence.

  The male Elf nodded and set me against one before groaning, stretching out his arms, and rolling his neck. He then squatted down and peered at me while the female reached into her bag and pulled out a gray hooded cloak.

  “I wonder if we are the first Elves she has encountered,” he muttered, cocking his head to the side.

  I looked back at him, embarrassed by his attention and frustrated that there was no way for me to convey an answer.

  “Do you think she fears us?” he continued.

  But the female didn’t seem the least bit interested in discussing me. “Move,” she said. She pushed the male aside and started wrapping the cloak around me forcefully, knocking my lolling head forward with the back of her hand as she brought up the hood.

  Startled, I dropped my struggle for alertness. Indeed, I might have lost entirely and slipped back into sleep, but just then a helpful night gale blew against my cheeks, slapping me enough to pull me back into the moment. It seemed the elements were on my side.

  Thank you.

  “Behave more gently, Rend,” said the male Elf, for the first time revealing the woman’s name.

  She shot him a cold look.

  “You know we are not to harm her in any way,” he urged.

  Her eyes scanned me loathingly. “I do not see why we have to bring her back at all. If it were up to me, we would have disposed of her in that foul cave.” She sighed. “But you are right. I suppose the elders are entrusting her to us.”

  She proceeded to pull out two more cloaks and handed one to the male Elf. I watched and waited, all the while silently pleading with the wind for another dose of waking breath. But such a dose was not delivered. Once again I was on my own.

  While the Elf-thugs dressed, the sound of falling branches alerted them to movement in a nearby tree; more specifically, the groaning and cracking of a branch supporting an animal far too hefty for it. I couldn’t turn my head to look, so I only stared ahead into the blurry bit of forest in my line of sight and listened.

  “A creature lurks in the overhead brush,” observed the male.

  “Certainly you are aware that we have been followed for a few days?” said Rend.

  The male nodded. “Since collecting her.” He pointed at me with his thumb.

  A few days?! My subdued heartbeat quickened. I was unconscious for that long?

  Rend looked over at the tree and began to form her hands into a circle, but the male Elf stopped her.

  “We need not destroy it now. It will cause too much of a scene.”

  She looked disappointed, but nonetheless said, “Very well. Let us go inside.”

  The male Elf picked me up, and again my veins reacted. He followed Rend i
nto the dingy tavern.

  It was empty aside from a chubby barmaid, who quickly scurried to greet us. Directing her attention at the male Elf, she asked,

  “Are you Nyte?”

  Is he Nyte? I wondered. The name seemed fitting.

  “I am.”

  She handed him a silver envelope – which he slipped into his pocket – before turning her attention to me.

  “Is she all right?”

  “She fell faint on our journey here. I am afraid she is of ill constitution,” said Rend through gritted teeth.

  Hmph. And whose fault is that? But I could do nothing to defend myself.

  “Poor thing, I’ll bring you some water when she comes to. Make yourselves comfortable.”

  ~

  We sat huddled around the inn’s large stone fireplace. The crackling lull of the fire did little to help me escape my incapacitated state; rather, it seemed to be pushing me further into confinement. I could now sit up on my own, but I was still unable to speak.

  “You seem awful brooding tonight, cousin. Pray tell, what do you ponder?” asked Rend, her voice annoyed.

  A moment passed before Nyte answered. “I am still suffering from doubt. How can we be certain she is indeed the Heart of Havoc? She just does not seem . . .” – he stumbled for the right word – “deranged to me.” He glanced at me with furrowed brows.

  I felt a meek tremor of relief that I didn’t seem ‘deranged’, but it wasn’t enough to make me feel at all better about the situation.

  “What has gotten into you, dear cousin?” she hissed. “Of course she is the Heart of Havoc. She possesses all of the characteristics. She killed her own sister, for heaven’s sake. As the legend says, the Evil Heart shall strike down her sibling . . .”

  What?! They thought I’d killed-?!

  My limp backbone strengthened with the allegation. Not only was it a horrible thing to assume, it wholly pissed me off! How dare she accuse me of something like that? After the years of pain I’d gone through missing Illuma?!

  I wanted to jump up, but all I could do was blink. So that was what I did, and I felt ridiculous.