Heart of Farellah: Book 2

by Brindi Quinn

In response, Ardette broke the fence of guardians and jumped in front of me.

  He pushed me behind him with his left hand, but used his right to pull his saber before us like a stern gate keeping the rumbling from reaching our position.

  It was obvious that the rumbling was a precursor to something dangerous. That much we could all guess. The question was what.

  In that moment of anticipation, I accepted Ardette’s protection and grabbed his shoulder. Grotts knew the area better than any of us, and he was the one that first recognized the rumbling’s cause. What he recognized was far from reassuring.

  “Holy smokes, Darch! Ya’ve upset a nest of em!”

  “A nest?!” hissed Rend in a fit of fury.

  My response, on the other hand, wasn’t fury. It was fear. Tremendous fear. I tugged Ardette back into me. “What do you mean nest?! Like how many dargons are there in a nest?!”

  Darch gave an open-lipped, teeth-clenched, wrinkle-nosed, ‘oopsie’ face.

  “Dammit, you idiot!” shouted Ardette.

  “Everybody, git back!”

  The next sequence of events happened entirely too quickly. With the rumbling at its peak, the first dargon heads breached the top of the pothole. At least twenty of them emerged at once, all spitting hiccups of fire, which accumulated into much larger fireballs that had incredibly accurate aim. And then another thirty or forty poured from the depths behind them, these dargons slightly larger than the first battalion. I forgot to move, ever clutching Ardette’s shoulder until at some point, Nyte was there next to me, and then I was in his arms, still dazed by the flood behind us. Grotts had Kantú by the elbow and was practically pulling her along with one hand like she were made of dandrill. I’d been clinging to Ardette, but I’d gotten away from him, and now he and Darch were just behind Nyte and me. Ardette was at Darch’s heels, pushing him along, urging the scampering Magir to hurry. Scardo and Rend were at the back of the group, shooting blasts and arrows into the blackish-green swarm that followed closely in tail. The sight was sort of bizarrely beautiful in a ‘never-before-seen’ sort of way – a pilgrimage of scales on their way to dinner.

  Unfortunately, we were dinner.

  “Can you not just tame them or something?” Nyte yelled back at the prodding Ardette.

  I was just beginning to catch my bearings. Being swept away always took a while to recuperate from.

  “Are you talking to me? Tame them? I’m sure they would relate far better to a barbarian like you!”

  “Shut it, ya two! Less talk, more run!”

  The ground was uneven, the trap-like potholes lying in wait for a moment of carelessness, but even so, Nyte’s strides were even; controlled.

  “I am nearly out of arrows!” Scardo’s whimper came from somewhere behind.

  It was the first time his stock had ever come close to being emptied.

  “Are you at least hitting some of them?” yelled Ardette.

  “No!” Scardo’s voice was so low that it was almost lost to the thudding of our fleeing footsteps. “They will not pierce the hide!”

  What?! He’s not even stopping any of them?!

  “Hide?” spat Rend. “It is more like armor! Magic will not pierce it either!”

  A giant fireball flew just off to our right, nearly singing Grotts’ already-fiery hair.

  “Ah!” he let out a thundering grumble and ducked. “That’s why poachin’ dargon’s such a top-crystal industry! Not that the beastly rights folks care for it much! Try goin’ in from the side if ya can! If we can’t pierce ‘em, we’ve just gotta confuse ‘em a bit!”

  There was no wind, but any of these words were capped short like they were carried away, due to the speed of Nyte’s trot. Everyone’s words, except for his.

  “Aura,” he said calmly, “will you sing something?”

  It had been a long time since I’d been carried by him like this.

  “Yeah, I will.”

  It would be something powerful. Something strong enough to drive away the hungry hoard.

  “No! Don’t let her sing!” The stern order came from Ardette.

  Nyte slowed only enough to allow Ardette’s voice to reach us more clearly. Along with the motion, he gave Ardette a distrusting yet inquisitive look. “Have you something to add, or do you simply wish to utter senselessness at the most inopportune times?!”

  Ardette’s tone changed quite quickly. “My, my, can’t have her exerting any energy, now can we? She needs to be at full spirit to purify my andap, or so I’ve heard.”

  “Well, it will not do us any good if we are consumed before reaching the shadow!”

  As if to prove Nyte’s point, another blast of unified fire zoomed through the opening between Ardette and us.

  “Argh! Just run, you damned Elf!”

  Nyte glanced down at me with a mischievous smirk. “He wishes me to run? What say you, Miss Havoc? Shall we oblige?”

  He didn’t wait for me to answer. A burst of Elf speed doubled the distance between us and the others in no more than a few seconds. Nyte shot a taunting simper back at Ardette, but the act of hauteur only served to distract him, nearly running us into a boulder. At the last minute, he dodged to the side but was welcomed by two more medium-sized potholes. He skipped between but lost a bit of the newly-acquired distance.

  A few of the more aggressive dargons had set their sights on us, passing up what they must’ve deemed less-challenging opponents, unworthy of their time. These creatures were likely the fittest of the pack, somehow able to stay within firing distance of Nyte and me, for even with our rapid sprint, angry fireballs continued to fly at us.

  I could have easily put them all out, but . . . I couldn’t sing?

  All right then.

  Instead, I closed my eyes and hummed, blocking out the chaos of the world around us. I’d fallen victim to the trap so many times before, getting lost in Nyte’s aura and finding myself in a state of extreme apathy. Well, maybe not total apathy. There was one thing I cared about at those times.

  I will do it, you know, if he asks me.

  Somehow, my heartbeat was rapid, but my veins were relaxed.

  I’ll go with Nyte through the Wood of Erow. That is my desire.

  At least part of me had wholly decided.

  But, of course, things couldn’t be that simple. They never were, and this was no exception, for there was another part of me that wouldn’t let it go so easily.

  You’re not ready, that annoying piece urged. You can’t commit to something like that while you still have doubts – while you’re heart is still torn, even if it’s just the corner of your heart. Even if it’s the tiniest fragment, you can’t give your heart away unless you can give it all.

  I love him.

  Right. If you love him, then why are you siphoning his spirit away right now, as we speak?

  I-I’m not!

  But I was.

  If you’re ready for something like that, something like marriage, then stop stealing from him!

  But that’s what it means to be an emulator, isn’t it?

  Is that what you think? Is that how you justify it? You’re far too selfish to be a savior. Far too selfish. Might as well go ahead and take it all. After all, you are ‘madly in love’ with his power . . . .

  N-no! I won’t succumb to this any longer!

  I gritted my teeth and pushed the warmth away.

  Gah!

  “Aura?” whispered Nyte.

  I ignored him.

  Kantú let out a yelp, but Grotts was there with a mighty, distant thud. I hoped she was okay. I assumed that she was, for no other yelps followed, though the air was thick with grunts and cries, all battle-like in nature. The group was struggling, but they were holding their own, giving the dargon pursuers hell.

  All the while I struggled not to consume the one I loved.

  We were running uphill, steeper now, surely to the top of that volcano-ish thing. I could feel Nyte leaning forward to compensate for the climb. Even with eyes closed, I
could still imagine our destination, infringing upon the ocher skyline, black and daunting.

  My eyes remained closed for I don’t know how long while together we raced to the peak, dargons at our ankles, fiery blasts all around, until miraculously, we were at the top. Or maybe it wasn’t the top. I couldn’t really tell, but either way, we stopped inclining.

  “Quick!”

  The voice belonged to Darch.

  I forced the warmth away, so much so that I forgot to inhale, and my breaths came out in short, exhausted puffs. My face was red and hot, but still I forced it away.

  “In here!”

  The voice was again Darch’s.

  There were distant pants, scuffles, shouts, and a loud bang followed by an avalanche of falling, crumbling rock, but I ignored it. I had to stay focused, otherwise . . .

  The air was suddenly cold but stuffy at the same time. It smelled like fresh ash.

  I pushed that away too.

  “I’ll be taking her, thank you very much.”

  That time it was Ardette. He sounded pissy.

  “Dare not.” Nyte hugged me in closer to him, but there were now many arms on me, pulling me away.

  Still I held my eyes tightly shut.

  “Come on, now, Nyte, I know it’s tough.”

  That was Grotts.

  Leave us alone. It’s mine!

  I fought to ignore the calling.

  “Fine!” Nyte let out a huff and finally released me, but not before lightly pressing his jaw against my forehead. With everything in me, I fought. I let the hands pull me, but I stole an inhale of meadow on the way out.

  “Here, you can hold me instead!” A third time, it was Darch.

  “Let ‘im be, Darch.”

  Now I was in someone else’s arms.

  It’s time. You’re safe now.

  I opened my eyes slowly.

  A scowling, icy face stared back.

  “Rend?” I whispered.

  “Can you stand on your own, or must I carry you like a babe?”

  “I . . . I’m fine.”

  I was now, anyway.

  I looked around. Somehow, we were inside of a pothole – a pothole at the top of the slope? I could tell it was a pothole because of the smooth, gray sides of the basin, but besides that, I could see no sky. The space was dark, save a few intruding strands of orange light creeping through cracks in the walls.

  “Here, you take her!” Rend wrinkled her nose and threw me to Kantú.

  “Cut it out, Rend!” scolded Kantú as she caught me.

  Rend’s jaw twitched.

  I straightened myself up.

  Nyte and the others were behind us, doing something with what seemed to be a fresh pile of fallen debris.

  The aftermath of that avalanche?

  “Kantú, what happened?” I whispered. “Fill me in.”

  It was embarrassing. Once again I’d reverted to that helpless, fetal state.

  “No problemo!” Kantú’s voice echoed within the chasm.

  She started to recount, but as I studied our surroundings, I could already gather what had transpired.

  We’d run to a crevice at the side of the volcano and stepped through. There, Grotts and Rend had apparently pounded the surrounding rock to crash the wall and fill the hole. The dargons were scuffling about outside, more than likely shooting puffs of fire at the pile, but the fall-in had left no hole large enough for a dargon to pass through.

  “That should do it!” said Darch, clapping. “And we didn’t kill a one of them!”

  “That’s, er, not really something to be proud of, is it?” mumbled Kantú.

  Scardo was in agreement.

  He cleared his throat and asked somewhat sourly, “And when we leave? What is your plan then?” He dusted his sleeves and studied the new cave-in.

  Grotts, on the other hand, cared not to remove the dust from his person. Not surprisingly, it was his hammer that instead received such treatment. “Then, we’ll reopen the hole, o’ course,” he said, inspecting the handle for injury. “Don’ git yerself frettin’.”

  “Humph. And the dargons?”

  “We’ll wait til light. They’re far less frisky when the sun’s up.”

  Scardo let out a drained sigh. “Very well.”

  From somewhere within, the pothole groaned.

  It was then that something occurred to me. Something unpleasant.

  “This isn’t an active volcano, is it?” I asked. I glanced down and for the first time noticed that this ‘pothole’ was different from the others in more than one way. Along with the enclosed ceiling and lack of dargon inhabitant, there was no putrid water to envelop my ankles. The ground was as smooth as the walls.

  “Volcano?” said Darch. He scratched his shin and looked around the cavern.

  Scardo slithered up next to me. “This is no volcano, Miss Heart.”

  “It’s not?”

  “No.”

  “Oh.” I’d never seen a volcano before, but I’d been sure that this thing was at least partially volcanic. It looked fairly similar to a sketch I’d seen at Yes’lech. “If it’s not a volcano, then what is this? A mountain of some kind?”

  Ardette tucked in his saber, strolled towards us, and shrugged. “A tomb.”

  “Tomb?” I asked. “Here?”

  “What?!” Kantú smacked her forehead. “Ugh! Why is it that we’re always surrounded by dead things?!”

  “Heh.” Grotts grinned.

  Rend’s face was cold and stern, as it almost always was, but there was a hint of something else upon her usually-tan cheeks. A sort of insipid something like . . . a paleness from fear?

  “You mean to tell me that we are, at present, undergoing grave desecration?” she asked, words shaking not from fright, but anger.

  “Well, sure!” said Darch.

  “And you think it a light matter, do you?” she asked.

  He shrugged, and her words trailed off into angry, conspiring mutters. “Unspeakable . . . inexcusable . . . appalling . . .”

  “What sort of a tomb?” I asked, taking in another breath of cold, stuffy air. “I mean, whose body rests here? In a place like this? Out in the middle of the Nalla?”

  It definitely wasn’t at all peaceful, nor the sort of place that would be easy or practical to bury a person in.

  “Full of questions as usual, I see,” drawled Ardette. “However, I’m afraid that each one in turn will require a certain compensation.”

  I disregarded that because I’d just noticed something else.

  “Wait,” I said, turning my back to him in an effort to scan the far corners of the tomb’s ceiling. “Where’s the Spirit of In-between?”

  Indeed, the shining bird was nowhere to be seen. It’d been tracking us all through the Nalla, but it looked like it hadn’t followed us into the tomb. Either that, or it hadn’t made it.

  The question hit a sore spot in Kantú.

  “Who cares about that old grump?” she said. Her arms were folded, her back tensed.

  “Can’t you feel it?” Darch pointed to the far right and winded his arm around his head, creating a giant swirl through the air with his finger. “He’s circling the tomb. Probably keeping watch for us. Even though you’ve had a falling out, he’s still looking out for you, you know.” Darch winked at her.

  Kantú sniffled, so Ardette put his hands on her shoulders and spun her around.

  “Well then, onward?” he said, bringing his face to her level. “If you’ve finished that monotonous prattling, that is. The andap won’t retrieve itself, you know.”

  Kantú’s shiver traveled all the way to the tip of her tail, but despite the obvious pleasure derived from having the handsome man’s face so close to hers, she let out a shallow, fakely-annoyed ‘tch’.

  Grotts certainly would have come to her rescue, were he not standing near the cave-in, preoccupied with someone else.

  “Nyte, ya all right?”

  Nyte was the only one still digging through the rubble. It was
n’t clear what he was searching for, as he tossed about random pieces of blasted basin, but it’s probably safe to say that distraction might have been his only target.

  At Grotts’ inquiry, he turned away from the pile. The side of his cheek was scuffed with a dirt smudge, like the leftover thumbprint of some grubby-fingered mongrel. Though, to be sure, no such ‘mongrel’ was in sight.

  “Yes, I am fine.”

  I giggled. I couldn’t help myself.

  “Miss Havoc?” Nyte searched the air for the source of my amusement. “What is it?”

  “You’ve got something, there.”

  “I have?”

  I nodded. “You look like a miner.”

  Nyte shot to his feet, a roguish grin on his lips.

  “I wish to keep it there. Does it not suit me?”

  “It do-”

  But we were unable to continue our play, for Darch interrupted with a louder-than-normal, slightly-forced inquiry.

  “Which way’s the shadow?” he blurted. He wasn’t looking at either of us, but kept his eyes stationarily at the ground.

  Grotts raised a brow but said nothing.

  “Down that tunnel,” answered Ardette. He pointed to a passage exactly opposite of the entrance.

  “How can you tell?” I asked.

  “He can feel it,” said Darch. “Isn’t that just amazing?”

  It was, but I wasn’t about to admit it. Kantú, however, was.

  “Weird!” she said, emitting more excitement than she probably wanted to. To compensate, she followed by wrinkling her nose at Ardette’s still-close-to-hers face.

  “Oh, weird, am I? Like you’re so normal, yourself, Miss Squirrel.” He pinched her ear, to which she shivered again.

  While this badgering ensued, Scardo had been eyeing the rubble pile behind him. “We had better move along. Don’t you agree, Ardette?” He was probably envisioning the hungry reptilian enemies just beyond.

  “Ugh. Fine. To the filth pot, I guess.”

  I shook my head. Dramatic as usual.

  Nyte rolled his eyes in agreement. The dirt smudge hadn’t moved. I giggled again.

  “Ah, after you, Ardette! Show them what you can do!” Again Darch butted in awkwardly.

  Ardette studied him with a frown. “Why are you so excited today?”

  But Darch wouldn’t get a chance to answer – not that it looked like he wanted to if given the chance – because Rend let out an annoyed growl and said,