Heart of Farellah: Book 1

by Brindi Quinn

  Alarmed, I glanced over at Scardo and Grotts for instruction, but Scardo was now bowed low, and Grotts had a strange half-smile on his face.

  How could they be so calm?!

  Grotts read my pleading look but didn’t come to my aid. Instead, he winked peculiarly. I closed my eyes, immobilized by fear, and braced myself.

  Elder Pietri kept his hand over me, and after an uneventful moment of bracing, I felt something inside of me wiggle.

  I let out a gasp.

  My song?

  The wiggle intensified and moved upward through my body, and I realized: It was being sucked out of me! The old Elf was taking it!

  My song! No! Don’t cap me! But the words wouldn’t come out.

  Wrinkling my forehead, I pulled on the song with all my might and felt it slip down.

  The elder’s gray-green eyes shined. The song slipped up.

  You can’t have it! I pulled on it harder, but so did he.

  We were engaged that way in a silent tug-of-war for several agonizing minutes until Pietri finally let out a chuckle and released the song. It came flying back into me, causing me to fall back.

  Then he brushed his hands together, dusting away the song fragments, and said,

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Aura Telmacha Rosh. I am Nit’suj Pietri, Elder of the Elven council of Sredna and officer to the secret society of Yes’lech.”

  Rend’s eyes shot up.

  I was sure I’d misunderstood. Pietri was with Yes’lech? But how was that possible when Yes’lech and the Elves had such opposing views on this ‘Heart’ issue?

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand,” I said, scrambling to my feet. “You’re-”

  “I am pleased to see your song is still intact,” he continued, cutting me off, “and it appears to be quite healthy at that.”

  That was good, at least.

  But I wasn’t as relieved as I should have been. I was too curious about the elder’s role in everything. Could a person working for both sides be trusted? I eyed him with unease.

  “We have much to discuss,” he said. “You are not the only one who is perplexed at this time.” He tilted his head sideways just a bit. I studied the rest of the group. Indeed, Rend and Kantú mirrored my own astonishment.

  Rend took the acknowledgement to mean it was finally time to have her questions addressed. “Elder?” she started again, but again she was ignored.

  The elder turned his back to us and started to move his hands around in front of him as if pushing away an invisible curtain.

  “I ask that you put up your hoods,” he said over his shoulder, “and follow me through the barrier. Say nothing until we reach my quarters. There, all questions will be resolved.”

  I was going to protest, but I stopped myself.

  Elder Pietri hadn’t capped me when given the chance; Grotts, Scardo, and Nyte seemed to trust him; and there was just too much for me to ask. Once again, I had no choice.

  I nodded and surrendered my frustration.

  “Come on, Kantú. Let’s go, I guess.”

  We put up our hoods and followed the elder under the arch of the ancient oak. After several paces, the forest floor sloped behind an unnaturally placed boulder into a steep basin patterned with spots of shadow. At the basin’s center lay a cluster of trees buzzing with movement: the haven town of Yh’tak.

  For a moment, a glimmer of excitement overtook my other emotions, but it was fleeting when I considered what sort of fate arriving in the town would bring me.

  Again, I imagined the horrors of a horde of Rends.

  Following the lead of the Elves, I used one of the great tree’s roots to steady myself, and began to descend the slope. Loose rocks tumbled down from under my feet, and I struggled to keep my footing, but luckily, the Elven traveling slippers turned out to be surprisingly good for climbing. I treaded carefully, clinging tightly to the root until reaching the bottom.

  There, I breathed a deep sigh of relief; and the sweet, fruity fragrance of the basin filled my nose. I released the root and wandered behind Pietri into the refuge.

  At once I knew: Yh’tak was everything Edaw should have been.

  Numerous Elves filled the tranquil haven, their subdued conversations creating a lulling murmur about the basin. Dozens of small treetop cottages littered the trees, each with a hanging wooden ladder for access. The cottages were connected by a series of rope bridges and nets, on which limber Elves now sprang across with ease. Fruit bushes blossomed abundantly below the trees, and several Elven women were plucking various large fruits and placing them into baskets woven from sinewy vines.

  It was great. It was more than great.

  Yh’tak had lived up to my expectations, but the greatest discovery came when I noticed that there were far more Elves than cottages. Without doubt, the escapees from Edaw had managed to arrive safely.

  To address the issue, Rend’s eyes grew glossy, and a content smile spread across her tight mouth.

  It solidified my sense of respite.

  The haven’s Elves stopped what they were doing to study the train of cloaked figures that had penetrated their barrier. I pulled my hood tighter and dodged their questioning looks. It made me feel intrusive – an outsider. But Elder Pietri nodded at each person he passed to assure them that they were in no danger, and gradually any hostilities melted away.

  I couldn’t help but notice the trust they all seemed to feel towards him as well.

  The elder led us to a large, solid structure spread across the branches of several trees in the back of the village. His aged body was nimble when he climbed the shaky rope ladder, appearing to be in even better shape than Nyte and Rend, who already seemed to have an unending supply of stamina. At the top, he muttered something under his breath before pulling open a cleverly concealed door in the bark of the tree.

  We followed him into the structure, filing one by one into what appeared to be a large study.

  It was filled with elaborately-carved dark-wood furniture. Shelves containing colorful clay containers and rolled pieces of parchment lined the walls, and the remaining wall space was filled with soot-drawn sketches of Elves in various settings. My eyes fell on one of these in particular, in which wrinkled Elves were encased vertically in the trunks of freestanding trees, their faces either dead or sleeping as they showed through the knotholes.

  It was eerie.

  In the center of the room was a long, low table. At the elder’s signal, we knelt around it, resting our knees on squishy pillow-like sacks made from dried leaves. The elder pulled a jar from one of the shelves and poured us each a cup of the clear liquid inside. It was bitter, but felt good on my dry throat.

  He then placed a bowl of large purple fruit on the center of the table before kneeling at its head.

  “If I may speak, your Excellency?” Rend was the first to break the silence. She was struggling to contain an out-pouring of questions, but Elder Pietri didn’t care. He held up his hand. Rend stared into her cup, disappointed.

  “It is true, Rend;” he said. “Unbeknownst to the rest of the council, I am a member of Yes’lech.”

  Rend’s long ears twitched. “If I may, sir, how is that possible?”

  Indeed, I also wondered how.

  But he ignored the question. “Grotts, Scardo. It is good to see you again. I am glad you decided to continue on to Yh’tak when I failed to meet you at Edaw.”

  That explains their composure.

  “We almost didn’t, sir,” said Scardo. “It was by chance that we even managed to meet up with the Pure Heart.”

  “Luckily, this one was understandin’.” Grotts tilted his head at Nyte.

  “Ah yes, Nyte,” said Elder Pietri, rubbing his beard. “I am pleased that you were able to connect the dots.”

  Rend scowled. “Sir, if you would please explain?”

  Once again Elder Pietri ignored her, instead directing his attention at me. “I am sorry for the confusion this ordeal has caused you; nonetheless, I am thoroug
hly pleased with the way this has all turned out.”

  “Surely, she cannot be this Heart of Salvation they speak of!” Rend was unable to contain herself any longer. “I know the legend by heart! You yourself were with the council when they sent us to retrieve her!”

  “It is true that the Elven legend states that the one carrying the Song of Destruction will be a songstress with midnight eyes and starlight hair, but it is also true that our version of the legend was fragmented when the records were sealed nearly two centuries ago at the time of the Elder Nosrac’s great treaty with Druelca. Several versions of the legend lived on orally before one was finally written down at the time of our history’s rewriting. Many things, such as Druelca, never made their way back into the record tomes, and the legend was one of the things that were eternally altered.”

  He unrolled a tattered scroll that had been sitting on the shelf behind him. “The true prophecy is actually more similar to this:

  ‘A songstress shall arise carrying the Song of Destruction. A second shall arise carrying the Song of Salvation. She shall possess hair like starlight and eyes like midnight. Her sibling shall be struck down by the Evil Heart to awaken the song to end the world. Her wrath shall be great that none would withstand her rage’.”

  Starlight hair and midnight eyes. There was that again. Was that me? My hair was silver, and my eyes were black, but surely there were other people out there with such traits!

  Ugh. Who am I kidding? It was an entirely uncommon combination. Starlight and midnight . . . can I really be the one they speak of?

  “How can you be certain that is the legend’s true form,” said Rend, unconvinced, “if the records were sealed?” She studied the parchment.

  “One of the elders at the time of the treaty kept a hidden account of the whole thing. This was, of course, forbidden, so it was passed down to only one elder each generation for safe keeping before falling into my hands. It is the only proof the Elves have that the treaty with Druelca even happened.”

  “It is also the same version of the legend that the council has been keeping safe for centuries,” said Scardo.

  “The trouble,” said Grotts, scratching his temple, “is interpretin’ the legend.”

  “Interpreting?” I asked.

  “Exactly,” said Pietri. “Which songstress shall have starlight hair and midnight eyes? Although the text is ambiguous, we believe it is the Heart of Salvation that possesses such qualities. Also, whose sister is the Evil Heart going to kill? The text is not clear on that either. Will it be her own, or the Pure Heart’s?”

  Whose . . . sister? The elder’s words struck me.

  “You mean . . .” I started to form the sentence but stopped to allow it to process. It processed slowly, like my mind didn’t want to admit what it had already perceived. Everything in the conversation thus far had been a small trickle, but now the dam had broken and released a flood of understanding.

  My heart sank.

  They believed I was the Pure Heart; that had been apparent. But they also thought that the Evil Heart might have had to kill my sister in order to gain the Song of Destruction?

  “Illuma?! The Evil Heart had to kill Illuma?!” I cried, drawing pity-filled faces from everyone but Rend. “Just when I thought that maybe there was a chance that . . . she . . . was . . .”

  Kantú put a comforting arm around my shoulder as I slumped forward and grieved.

  The elder answered somberly, “Yes, we believe that Druelca took your sister for that purpose. They have the most accurate records of any of the people, so if they took her, it proves that you are the Heart of Salvation. Druelca is ruled by a cruel and wrathful queen, known only as ‘The Mystress’, whom we believe to be the Heart of Havoc.”

  Mystress?

  Illuma had been murdered by this evil queen he spoke of? This Heart of Havoc? Could it be true? And even if it was, what could I do? Show up fueled by vengeance and defeat her with a hidden ariando that I was yet to discover?

  What’s the point? It won’t bring her back!

  I felt like I was sinking, but Nyte spoke next, pulling me from my spiraling state of depression.

  “If the Song of Destruction has not yet been released, does that not mean that her sister still lives?”

  “Still lives?” I looked up from my trembling hands.

  He had a point. It was true that a song like that hadn’t been released as far as I knew. I mean, I’d never SEEN any repercussions of a world-destroying song.

  No, the world was definitely still intact. At least, the small portion I’d seen was.

  I let in a seed of hope.

  “That is our hope.” The elder nodded. “The society has placed a mole within the Druelcan guard to determine the status of Illuma. If she is indeed still alive, as we believe, then the power of the Heart of Salvation may be the only thing that can save her.”

  “But why would they keep her alive?” It was Rend that squashed the seed, and she seemed sickly pleased with her argument.

  “It is most likely that the ritual will not work until certain conditions are met,” said Scardo. “Although, if Druelca is on the move, it means the time is swiftly approaching.”

  Certain conditions?

  Then there was still a chance Illuma was alive. But she had been taken. I thought of her behind bars, desolate and alone, but pushed the thought away. If I allowed myself to accept everything, it would be too much, so I’d hope for the best, but wouldn’t fully believe it until we were sure; otherwise I’d be overcome with a bittersweet myriad of emotions: joy, sadness, worry . . . everything. No, I wouldn’t fully grasp it, but in the meantime, I’d work on my own power so that . . .

  “If she is alive, I’ll save her.”

  I wasn’t sure if I contained the Song of Salvation. I wasn’t sure if I had the strength to fight an evil queen. I wasn’t sure where Druelca was or if I could even make it in time. I wasn’t sure of anything, but I knew that if there was a chance I could save my beloved sister, then I’d have to try.

  I’ll do what I can.

  Elder Pietri beamed at me, and his eyes became lost in his folds of wrinkles. “You will travel to the Yes’lech Society headquarters in Abardo. By that time, the mole will have determined Illuma’s fate. You shall proceed to formulate a plan based on his observations.”

  “I cannot agree!” Rend stood up angrily. “We have been entrusted to deliver her to the council for trial! I will not disobey the rest of the council!”

  Elder Pietri bolted up, suddenly looking fierce. “Nyte Attirb and Rend Attirb, as a member of the council, I hereby order you to accompany Aura Telmacha Rosh to the Yes’lech Society headquarters.”

  His voice boomed, shaking the jars in the room. One of them fell from its shelf and crashed to the floor, releasing a cloud of strange red powder. Rend cowered to her knees and stared into her cup. Elder Pietri reverted to kneeling.

  “Rend,” – his voice returned to calm and wheezy – “I understand your allegiance to the council, therefore I ask that you accompany the Heart to the society, in part to protect the council. I have not spoken of this to the other members because it is imperative that they believe she is the Evil Heart. Druelca will not think twice about waging war with the council if they think that the elders are on her side. You will be continuing your order to deliver her to trial, for eventually she will face a great test anyway.”

  A great test?

  Rend nodded but didn’t take her eyes from her cup.

  “Now, then. I trust you are all tired. Please stay in Yh’tak for three nights before venturing onward. I have placed the enchantment barrier myself, and you will be safe from enemies while within it. Regain your strength, for the journey ahead of you is great.”

  He continued to tell us of our sleeping arrangements, but my head was swirling too quickly to pay him much attention. For the first time since leaving Farellah, I was completely on board with the mission, eager to journey. I would do whatever it took to save Illuma, even if
it meant becoming the Heart of Salvation.

  I scanned the group of faces around the table, and was grateful for the peculiar guard that would be accompanying me on the trip. Grateful that I wouldn’t be alone.

  After an hour or so of discussing more details, the group left the study, one by one saying their goodbyes before descending the hanging ladder. I was one of the last to leave, and as I walked to the door, I caught the end of a hushed conversation that Nyte and Elder Pietri had been having in the corner.

  I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but . . .

  “I trust that you received my message?” said Elder Pietri.

  “I suspected it was from you.” Nyte patted his pocket, and something shiny caught the light.

  The silver envelope from Heaven’s Den? Yes. At least, I thought so.

  “It still applies. Do not forget. Just make certain that Rend does not find out.”

  “Yes, your Excellency.” Nyte bowed low.

  I hurried down the ladder before they could realize I’d heard.

  ~

  The more time I spent in Yh’tak, the less I wanted to leave. The rest of the Elves turned out to be more like Nyte and less like Rend, much to my relief. As a whole, they were a very accepting and generous people, sharing their food, drink and treetop cottages with us foreigners.

  I’d grown used to the fruit diet, but Grotts looked oddly fatigued from the lack of meat. Kantú wasn’t faring much better, and Nyte and I found her on our last day trying to coax an egg from an Elven child’s pet kluckoo. She stomped away in frustration when Nyte explained that kluckoos did not actually produce eggs and that she would have to wait until leaving the Elven Kingdom to encounter a bird that did.

  At least the kluckoo seemed relieved to be freed from the pesterings. Nyte returned the bird to its owner and then ushered me up one of the hanging ladders.

  He and I had been spending a lot of our time in Yh’tak together at the request of Elder Pietri, who wanted Nyte to teach me about the geography of the Westerlands, so that I might be more prepared for our journey. We’d claimed a shady hanging net in the center of the village as our study spot. There we poured over the ancient maps and tomes that Elder Pietri provided.