Heart of Farellah: Book 2

by Brindi Quinn

  “No! You hold me up. There’s something wrong!”

  Grotts hurried to grab Ardette’s shoulders, which had just started to wilt. Fearing warmth, but having no time for reservations, I grabbed Nyte’s shoulders and pushed him against the wall, propping him into place.

  “What should I do?!” came Kantú’s fevered cry. She’d broken her angry rant long enough to see that we’d hit a snag.

  “Just take care o’ yer bird troubles-”

  “No!” shot Ardette. “Feed me!”

  “Feed-” She eyed the bowl at my side. “That stuff? Eeew!”

  “Just do it!” I ordered.

  “O-okay!” She jumped up, but the Spirit of In-between was before her in one flap, blocking her from the rest of us.

  “Get outta the way! What’s your problem?!”

  Ardette squeezed his eyes shut, let out another grunt, and convulsed.

  “Here!” Grotts transferred Ardette’s weight into one hand, grabbed the basin with his other, and brought it to Ardette’s lips.

  Ardette took a huge gulp, but the act only resulted in a series of coughs and sputters.

  “What should we do, Grotts?!”

  “Just hold Nyte! Ardette pull outta there, NOW!”

  “I can’t, dammit! It’s a trap in here! Someone’s set us up!”

  Ardette opened his eyes and they were a mystic, glowing blue.

  I knew that blue. It was the same blue as the hammer’s enchanted crescents. It was the same blue as the Silver Command’s demise. It was the unmistakable blue of Elder Pietri’s power.

  Chapter 14: The Elder

  I wasn’t the only one to recognize it.

  “Pietri?!” said Grotts, confused and disbelieving.

  “Damn – right!” huffed Ardette. His eyes were still glowing.

  What does it mean!?

  Grotts slammed the bowl of andap down. “Kantú, go and get Darch and Scardo! We need their help!”

  “Alright!” She scurried to the door, but the bird again blocked her path. “Ugh! Go AWAY!” she yelled.

  “Listen, birdie, I don’t know what ya’ve got ta do with this – what sorta officer-cahoots ya’ve got goin’ on – but let ‘er pass! Whatever it is, Ardette an’ Nyte don’t deserve ta die fer it!”

  “Die?!” I cried.

  This is that severe?! This trap might kill them?!

  His words apparently touched the Spirit of In-between too, for the bird moved aside with a screech and a flap.

  Kantú shot it a dirty look before bolting out of the door. The bird followed.

  A few seconds later and Darch and Scardo had taken their places.

  “Oh my!” Scardo let out a gasp. “But that blue, that’s-”

  Darch’s eyes grew wide. “It doesn’t make any sense!”

  “Trap!” sputtered Ardette. “Enchanted – ugh – inside!”

  Darch sprang forward. His pinky was on Ardette’s forehead in a dash, circling. “Ardette, stay with me. Listen, this is very important. You need to get out of him.”

  “I ca-”

  “If you pass out while inside, you’ll solidify, and then he’ll-”

  “No!” I cried. Nyte’s head fell forward.

  “Hear that, Ardette? You have to! Do it for her!” Darch turned to me. “Sing – oh, I don’t know – something!”

  “Something?! Like what?!”

  “Something calming! I’m going to try to force him away from the enchantment!”

  Sing. It was all I could do, so I did it. I sang the first Song of Old that popped into my head. Thank Creator it wasn’t an ariando. I’d need my strength very soon.

  “Heaven’s weep and angels’ sleep,

  Casting the Orella Mountain.

  After lies and ashened skies,

  Seeking to find youth’s fountain.

  Abounding in priceless,

  Scouting for cypress,

  Ne’er sayeth the truth.

  Heaven’s weak and angels’ keep,

  Casting the Orella Mountain.

  After wyse and ashened cries,

  Seeking to find sprite’s fountain.

  Abounding in priceless,

  Scouting for cypress,

  Ne’er sayeth the truth.

  And after ciel, there’s naught to heal,

  Ne’er sayeth the truth.”

  “Drink this.” Scardo was in the middle of force-feeding Ardette andap when I finished.

  The energy in the room had died down significantly. Ardette’s eyes were dark red and unfocused, and every so often, they’d spark blue with tiny lightning-like bolts.

  Darch was still circling his pinky.

  “Good job, Ardetto. Keep backing away from the wall.”

  “Don’t . . . call . . . mmm . . . me . . . toes.”

  “He’s severely drunk right now,” said Darch, “so don’t get too close. Knowing him, it’s hard to say what he might try.”

  “But Darch, that jus’ might work!” offered Grotts.

  Darch wrinkled his brow. “What might work?”

  “Think of a raccoon in a jar trap. If ya put somethin’ shiny in a jar, the raccoon’ll reach in and grab it, and it won’t let go fer nothin’, right? Well, what if there’s something even shinier outside ‘o the jar, what do ya think the raccoon’ll do then?”

  Scardo turned white.

  “Pardon me? Surely you aren’t suggesting offering up the Pure Heart as bait! I will not allow-”

  “Yes,” I said. “Let’s try.”

  Scardo let out a disapproving croak. “But, Miss Heart, that lecher will surely try to defile you if given the chance!”

  Grotts rolled his eyes. “Aw come on, Scardo, have a little faith in the guy.”

  “Darch?” Scardo looked to him for assistance.

  “What can I say, friend? It might work.”

  Scardo turned away, sulking.

  “But what should I do about Nyte?” I was still supporting his weight, keeping him from fully folding over. “Scardo, would you?”

  “Fine.” Never had he seemed so cross at me since the time I’d forced him to spare Nyte using the rose of debt.

  “Thank you.”

  Suspiring loudly, he slithered over and took Nyte’s weight from me.

  Ardette’s hand was still in the Nyte’s head, and I shuddered to think about how dangerous it was that the fate of my Elf’s well-being rested in an intoxicated and uncontrollable Ardette’s hands.

  Please, Ardette, be careful. Please, Creator, protect them both.

  I fell onto my hands and knees and looked into Ardette’s eyes just as a flash of blue lit them up. “What should I do?”

  “Ya gotta get his hand out, right? So- er” – Grotts’ looked away, embarrassed – “ask him ta touch ya maybe?”

  “Touch?” Oh Creator!

  Darch nodded. Scardo let out a choking noise.

  “Um, Ardette?” I said, drawing from every ounce of strength I had. “Can you do me a favor?”

  “A . . . flavor? My favorite is cherry.”

  “No, a favor. See, I’ve got a sliver on my . . .”

  I looked down at myself for a safe place in which an imaginary sliver could be inspected.

  “Back,” offered Darch.

  “Yes, my back – wait, back?!” No, not there!

  Darch beamed. “Something shiny enough, remember?”

  “Ugh. Fine. I have a sliver on my back. Think you could take a look at it for me, Ardette?”

  Ardette chuckled. “My, my . . . my, my, my, my.”

  “Please, Ardette, it really hurts.”

  “What about your self . . .” – he tittered – “your Elf.”

  “Oh, him? Naw, he’s not good at finding slivers.”

  “Playing . . . ing coy, are yo . . . you, ma pit?”

  “Yes, you know me so well. Coy is kind of my thing.”

  Ardette’s eyes drifted shut, and his head fell forward. Nyte’s body tensed, and my heart sank.

  Please don’t pass o
ut!

  “No! Ardetto, stay with me! Listen to Aura. She’s in trouble!”

  “Ardette! I need you! Please! HELP!”

  Ardette’s eyes opened, but they were still flashing blue, so I impulsively lifted the back of my shirt and pointed.

  “Here!”

  Ardette looked at it and let out a deep, shaking exhale. His flashing eyes were transfixed on my skin, eyeing me up and down, and after a moment, he slowly lifted his left hand and placed it against the skin of the small of my back. He ran his finger along the bumps of my spine and I shivered.

  “You’ll need to use your other hand too if you want to get it out,” coaxed Scardo. He’d finally agreed to play along.

  “Stuck.”

  “Nope,” said Darch. “I’ve drawn you back far enough from the trap. You just have to pull really hard now.”

  “But be careful,” I said, my voice urging.

  One of Ardette’s hands was on my back. He’d gone from running my vertebrae to holding my side in his palm and rubbing the muscle at the side of my spine with his thumb.

  “Come on, Ardette!” I grabbed his right wrist and squeezed.

  “My . . . my . . . UNGH!”

  “OW!” Darch winced as his pinky turned blue for just a moment.

  “What!?” cried Grotts. “It transferred to ya?!”

  “Hurry up, Ardetto!”

  “I . . . HYUNG . . . can’t!”

  “You have to!” I cried.

  “I can’t!”

  But with one more tremendous grunt, he pulled his arm back, and a shadowy version of his hand escaped from Nyte’s head. Both of them fell over into a slumping pile on top of me.

  I let my arms fall around the two men I cared for the most.

  Together, we’d narrowly escaped the trap.

  ~

  “Preposterous!” said Rend, slamming her hand against the wall behind Ardette’s head. “You think Elder Pietri placed a lock on Nyte’s memory? Pray tell, why would he do such a thing?!”

  “The officers are all the same. As I’ve told you before, they get a kind of psychotic pleasure from messing with us. Is this not proof enough for you? Look at my fingertips!”

  He flung them in her raging face. They’d been stained blue.

  “How DARE you disrespect his Excellency!”

  “Yes, Ardette,” said Scardo, “we still don’t know why the memory enchantment was placed. There must be a viable reason for-”

  “Don’t you ever quit? Had you seen the way that bird was mocking us, I avow you’d think differently.”

  Ardette’s vitality was back at full force. It was amazing what a little andap and a few seconds of spirit transference could do. Nyte, on the other hand, was still out and breathing rather heavily.

  “Mocking you? Don’t you think that’s a little paranoid?”

  “No, Scardo,” I interjected, “it definitely was.”

  “Oh! Then I suppose . . . but how peculiar . . . .”

  With that, Scardo settled into the corner and tried to work through the situation. In his hand he held his bowstring, which had been singed in the latest dargon attack, and halfheartedly busied himself with replacing it.

  Meanwhile, the bird in question had once again stormed off into unreachable skies. Kantú claimed to have disowned it entirely, but nevertheless, she was outside with Grotts ‘keeping watch’ – which was most certainly only a cover-up, enabling her to secretly search the late noon’s horizon for the spirit’s return.

  Ardette was leaning against the wall with his elbow resting on Darch’s shoulder.

  “Well, my pit, on to you then, I suppose?”

  “On to . . . ?” He can’t mean- “You want to do it this soon?! But you haven’t even had time to recover!”

  “Oh, an abundance of time, have we?”

  “Well that’s true, but Ardette, are you sure?”

  “Positive. I can’t wait to get back inside of you.”

  To prove his point, he snapped in front of his face, turning his blue fingertips into shadow.

  I gave him a suspicious look-over. True, he seemed okay, but I wouldn’t allow it without a second opinion.

  “Darch?” I asked, turning to the ‘expert’.

  “Don’t worry about him. He’s fine as far as I can tell – and I can tell. Unless you have some sort of trap hiding inside of you too?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Well, that’s just great! Besides, it’s best to do it while the andap is fresh. Once it’s gone sour, well . . .”

  “So that settles it?” Ardette raised a brow.

  It was fine, I guessed, but I had hoped that Nyte would be with me during the process. I trusted Ardette, and I wasn’t really scared to be left in his hands or anything – it was just . . . I wanted Nyte’s face to be the first thing I saw after having that fog lifted. I wanted us to share a newfound clarity. But that part of the plan had already been disrupted, hadn’t it? When Nyte’s memories hadn’t been retrieved. What was Pietri up to anyway? I didn’t know enough about him to have any sort of theory, but he’d been so helpful the time I had met him, that it was hard to believe he’d bear any ill will. It was just . . . confusing.

  Ardette cleared his throat. “A mess in there again, are you? It won’t do any good to stall, mind you. So,” – he outstretched his hand in my direction – “may I?”

  Guess it can’t be helped. It’s not like we have time to spare. Illuma’s waiting, after all.

  “Rend, you’ll watch over Nyte, won’t you?”

  She said nothing, her only response in the form of a very stuck-up nod.

  Scardo looked up from his deep-in-thought bow-stringing long enough to plead, “Ardette, do be careful with her. Remember who it is you’re dealing with. How fragile she is.”

  “Good thing you’ve warned me. I was going to treat her forcibly until you spoke up.”

  Rend sniggered.

  Ardette shot her a small, barely-noticeable look of surprise before turning his attention back to me. “Come here, my cherry pit.”

  I obeyed.

  “This time, I think it’d be best if you’d lie here.”

  “In Darch’s lap?”

  He nodded. “That way no one need stabilize you should things get complicated again.”

  Scardo’s bow-limbs made a sickly creaking noise. It was apparent that Ardette’s comment hadn’t fared well with him.

  “Alright,” I said.

  I laid my head into the folds of cloak and blanket that had been prepared for me in Darch’s lap. It felt almost like a real pillow . . . but not quite. However, since it had last been at Kugar’s inn that I’d had the luxury of using a pillow, it felt like heaven beneath my head.

  Darch’s lap was, at any rate, a more comfortable option than using Ardette’s. At least Darch wouldn’t be getting any sort of ‘lecherous ideas’ from it.

  “Do you want me to subdue her, or are you just going to plunge right in like you did with that kid?”

  “I don’t need you,” was Ardette’s harsh reply.

  Darch showed no offense at the blatant rudeness and started to hum softly.

  Like he did with Nyte? I squeezed my eyes shut in anticipation for the moment of impact.

  But while he might not have chosen to use any Magir assistance, Ardette’s method for entering me was far different than it had been with Nyte . . . and thankfully so. In a much gentler fashion, holding the back of my neck in his hand, he lightly pressed his fingers against my temple. They sank into my skin in a hazy fog.

  I closed my eyes and let that haziness take over.

  Hm-hmm hm hm-hmmm.

  That was the sound of Darch’s humming.

  Hm-hmmm hm hm . . .

  But then it faded . . .

  And I was left . . .

  In a soundless space.

  A blank canvas.

  The air around me was thick with cloud – a swirling cloud that tingled while it churned.

  And then I was in the mead
ow – or rather, the memory of the meadow. The night sky was clear. The grass was long. The air was hot. But I could tell it wasn’t really the meadow because everything had a sort of artificialness to it. The air didn’t even smell like cherry blossom.

  And there was something else. While first traversing the memory, I realized that the edges of the world wouldn’t form until my eyes fell directly upon them. When I turned my head too quickly to either side, all I’d see was darkness, and there were even some distant edges of view that would never come into focus. To combat the phenomenon, I kept my movements slow and controlled. That was the best way to go about the shadowy surroundings without becoming nauseous.

  “Illuma, come quickly!” My mouth moved on its own.

  Illuma? In this space of shadowy illusion, would I finally get to see her again? I looked behind me, but there I found only darkness. Where was she? I missed my sister so deeply, yet I could feel the memory version of her so near to me. I wanted to call out to her again, but my mouth refused to form the words. It appeared I wasn’t allowed to stray from the script of memory. It was a strange feeling. A feeling without time – of mortality, or an awareness of it.

  “Is he already here?”

  That was Illuma’s voice. When she spoke her words were without echo.

  “I can’t wait to meet him!” she said. But then her attitude changed drastically. “But I bet he’s not as great as you’ve made him out to be.” She must’ve just remembered our earlier feud when I’d refused to pay attention to her paranoid talk of ‘peepers’ and ‘goons’.

  “Are you really still mad?” I asked. “I told you, I was hot. That’s why I wasn’t listening to you. I’m sorry; I was under the spell of the meadow.”

  “But you believe me now?”

  “Yes. Of course. I mean, if he’s been watching me, who’s to say others haven’t been watching you too?”

  “Alright. I forgive you, then.”

  With that, the memory paused around me. Something inside of me was keeping it locked in place. Those words. Those words I’d just remembered. Those were the words I’d always hoped for but never thought I’d get.

  I

  forgive

  you.

  Before she’d disappeared, my sister had forgiven me. That hot day in the meadow hadn’t been our last encounter; we’d seen each other again, and we hadn’t ended on a bad note. She forgave me, and things were all right between us. I wanted to feel overwhelming, bittersweet relief, an abolition of guilt, but it seemed that emotions weren’t allowed to stray from the script either.