His Ancient Heart

by M. R. Forbes

  Talon didn't take him up on the offer. "How do you know what the Empire is up to?"

  Curio's smile got a little bigger. "Do you know what I learned, many years ago when I designed my first barge?"

  Talon waited for him to answer.

  "First, I learned that anything that exists can be improved upon, if only one looks at it in a new way. Second, I learned that with enough coin, I can do anything I want. Anything."

  "Can you cheat death?" Talon asked.

  Curio flinched. "Not that. No." He was quiet for a minute, and then his smile returned. "I understand, you don't want your secrets reaching the Empire. Believe me, I have no intention of sharing them with anyone. I want them for me, to add to my collection."

  "I want to see your collection," Talon said.

  "That isn't possible," Curio said.

  "Why not? If you want what I know, then I want more than just a berth on your barge. I want to see your collection."

  "Why?"

  "I'm seeking answers. You might have them."

  Curio dropped back into his chair. His eyes stayed on Talon while he considered.

  "Information," Talon said. "If I learn more, then I can tell you more. My words become more valuable. What are you hiding that you don't want me to see? I certainly won't be the one to tell the Historians about it."

  "I don't have the answers you seek," Curio said.

  "How do you know?"

  "I don't collect books."

  "You want everything I know, but you don't collect books?"

  "Not anymore. Not after General Spyne killed my Delia."

  Talon froze. He hadn't guessed that Curio ever had a confrontation with Spyne. "Your wife?"

  He nodded. The pain was obvious on his face. "My daughter is all I have left of her."

  Talon looked back at her. She was still standing near the doorway with Wilem. Her face was angry. Vengeful. Another victim of the promise.

  Murderer.

  "Show me the collection," Talon said, his anger growing. "Show it to me now." He shouted the words, a command from a General.

  Curio drew back in fear and surprise. "Why?"

  "My memories are like pieces of a broken vase. Anything I experience, anything I see can bring them back to me, help me put them back together. Whatever you have. If it is from the time before the Empire... I need to see it." He paused, and then made his decision. "I will see it, or I'm going to kill your daughter."

  "What?" Curio's face paled, and he pushed himself to his feet, as if he could protect her. Talon took three steps across the room and grabbed Delia by the wrist before she could think to move. He spun her in his arms, wrapping his forearm across her throat.

  "Talon-" Wilem started to say.

  "Silence, Wilem." He held Delia in front of him, dangling her at Curio. "I have lost more than any man should ever have to lose. My wife. My sons. Everyone I knew. I'm not going to lose more because of you. I'm not going to let anyone else lose more either. If I have to take one life to save a thousand others, I will do it. Show me the collection."

  Curio's eyes danced from Talon to Delia. Even with his daughter's life at stake, he was hesitant. What was he hiding?

  "Talon, you don't need to do this."

  "You'd let me kill your daughter?"

  "Would you do it?" Curio asked.

  Talon pressed his arm tighter against Delia's neck. Would he? Could he? It would be so easy to grab her jaw and twist; to break her neck.

  Murderer.

  No. Not this time.

  "Show it to me, and I'll kill General Spyne."

  Curio's eyes brightened, and he took a step back, laughing. "You should have used that one in the first place. I would give you all of my fortune to see that monster dead. Let her go. I'll show it to you."

  Talon held her for a moment more, leaning down to put his lips to her ear. "I wouldn't have hurt you," he said. "A bluff to convince your father. My apologies." He removed his arm.

  She spun around and smacked him hard across the jaw. She was stronger than she looked, and she knew how to throw a hand.

  "Delia," Curio said, as though nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. "Stay here with the Mediator. Talon, follow me."

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Eryn

  Eryn had only been sitting with the Overlord for a minute when her eyes fluttered open.

  "Overlord Prezi," Eryn said. "I'm sorry."

  The woman turned her head so she could see Eryn. "It wasn't your fault," she said in a dry whisper. "The sickness... it seems to be defending you."

  "Defending me? All you did was touch me."

  "I tried to use my Curse on you. It was enough. Help me up."

  Eryn held out her hand to help the Overlord to her feet.

  The door swung open behind her, with enough force that it felt as if the air was sucked from the room.

  Eryn saw the Overlord's face tighten and pale, a look of anger and fear in her eyes. She whirled around, ready to... do what? The man standing in the doorway was large and broad, with a thick beard and a wide, flat nose. He wore the blacks of a soldier, though there were no decorations on them to suggest his rank. He was an imposing figure, obviously strong and confident. He stared back at her with a look of curiosity, his eyes starting at her face and traveling to her cheek, down her neck, and into the low neckline of her dress.

  The blood. I'm still covered in blood.

  "Who are you?" he asked. His voice was deep and parched, as though it were being dragged over stones.

  His hand moved to the hilt of a large broadsword. Eryn could see the edge of the blade before it vanished into the leather. Ircidium.

  "General Spyne. It's Eryn Albion," the Overlord said. "She was going to kill me."

  General Spyne?

  Eryn's head whipped back to the Overlord. She looked guilty and sad. Her eyes were watching the General.

  Get to the dungeon. Get to Oz.

  She heard the Overlord's voice in her head. She wasn't turning on her, but she needed to keep her cover. It was the only way she would be able to help Talon.

  Eryn turned back to the General. His sword was already halfway from its scabbard. If he got it free, all of her power would be useless against him.

  She felt her heart begin to beat faster, and she forced herself to calm, for the magic to rise into her. The General took a step towards her, his large blade almost free.

  There was a grunt, and he vanished from the doorway, thrown aside by Fehri. She heard the clatter of his sword falling from his grip and hitting the ground. She didn't waste any time, dashing towards the only exit, stooping to grab her pack as she did.

  A new person stepped in front of her. He was small and thin, his body covered in lines and markings that gave him a frightening appearance. He had a knife in each hand, and he set himself to use them.

  Eryn didn't slow. She used her momentum to swing the pack up, catching him off guard and slamming it into his jaw. The force threw him away from her, sending him sprawling to the side. Eryn turned her head. The General had gotten on top of Fehri, and was trying to press a boot knife into the Captain's throat. Fehri had his forearm locked against Spyne's, keeping the blade away, but she could tell by his face that it was a battle he wasn't strong enough to win.

  Eryn felt the magic pour into her, her entire body tingling with anticipation. She took a deep, calm breath.

  "Incitat."

  Time stopped.

  She knew she couldn't hold the distortion field for long. She took a step towards Fehri, finding the General's sword on the ground at his side. She would pick it up and put it in the man's back, the same as she had done to the Overlord of Elling.

  General Spyne moved.

  He glanced back at her, his eyes dark with anger. Fehri remained frozen beneath him.

  "No," Eryn cried, watching in horror as the General pushed the Captain's arm out of the way, and finished burying the knife.

  He left Fehri impaled on it, the wound not able to
bleed in the distorted timeline. He rolled smoothly to his feet, grabbing his blade as he did.

  "I'm one of the Nine," he growled. "I was made to fight the Shifters. I'll not be put down by a whore of a girl."

  Talon had never said anything to her about being able to join the distortion field on his own. She had made a grave mistake.

  One that had just costed the Captain, her friend, his life.

  She dropped the field. It would speed up Fehri's death, but there was nothing she could do about that now. To hold it was to kill herself with him.

  Spyne grinned at her, showing off his pointed teeth. Fehri writhed on the ground behind him, pulling the knife out and pressing his hands tight to the wound. She could see the blood running over his fingers, his life going with it. Eryn fought to keep herself from panicking. She had to get away somehow.

  A pair of arms wrapped tightly around her from behind, arms that were too strong for how narrow they appeared. She felt the tattooed man's hot breath on her neck, as he clenched her against his body. She struggled uselessly, the pack in her hand falling to the floor. She was strong, but not this strong.

  Seeing Eryn captured, General Spyne turned back to Fehri, driving his sword into the man's chest without word or hesitation. Fehri's fight for life was over. He had given his loyalty to Amman, and now he would join Him.

  General Spyne approached her slowly, his eyes locked not on her face, but on her heaving chest. He stared at her like a hungry animal. His tongue slipped between his lips, wetting them.

  He took another step.

  He was only a few feet away when he seemed to snap out of it, his head jerking up and his eyes refocusing on her face. He came to a stop, lifting up the point of his sword, aiming it at her gut. "Talon's whore of a Cursed. Where is he?"

  "I don't know," Eryn said. It wasn't a total lie. She knew he was going to Edgewater. She had no idea where he was right now.

  Spyne smiled again. "I expect even if you did, you'd die instead of telling me. What is it about him that makes him so appealing to you?"

  "He has a heart."

  Spyne laughed. "No. He doesn't."

  "If you're going to kill me, then kill me."

  Spyne considered for a moment. "What's in the bag?"

  "The truth."

  "What you think is the truth," he said. "The truth is what we make it, not relics of a past that nearly destroyed us. The books, the artifacts... lies. All of it. Garbage. We burn garbage. We destroy it. Like we destroy traitors." He took another step forward, drawing back the sword.

  "General, wait."

  Overlord Prezi appeared in the doorway. She looked pale and weak, but she was standing on her own.

  Spyne paused, turning his head to regard her. "Why should I?"

  "His orders are to find and capture Talon. He didn't say anything about the girl."

  "She just tried to kill you, fool."

  "That doesn't matter. The orders are to capture Talon." She came forward and took Eryn by the arm. "Wherever he is, what better way to draw him out?"

  Spyne stared at her, his eyes burning. "Trying to save her life?" he asked.

  "Trying to stop the Liar," Caela said.

  "You had Talon. You let him go."

  "What?" The Overlord was a convincing actress. Her eyes narrowed in anger and her jaw tightened. "Where did you get that foolish idea?"

  Without warning, Spyne shifted his weight and leaned towards her, his free hand rising up and slapping the Overlord hard in the face. She turned her head but refused to fall again. A red welt started rising from her cheek.

  "Show some respect to your betters, bitch."

  Caela's face softened. She bowed her head. "My apologies, General."

  "You hung a man, a tall man with blue eyes, and a much larger man with a massive sword. I've been tailing Talon, and I know for certain he's traveling with someone that meets that description. Do you think that's a coincidence?"

  "My Lord, please," Caela said, keeping her eyes down. "You know how rumors are twisted as they spread through the populace. The man I hung was not Talon Rast. I served with him. I would know him anywhere. The larger man was carrying a handmade weapon. The men may have said it was a sword, but in truth it was a crude device."

  Only the sound of Spyne's breathing broke the silence as he considered her words. "How did this one get the drop on you?"

  "My niece, the Lady Valerie. She was to come up from Portsmouth to learn of provincial affairs. I sent that man, Captain Fehri, to retrieve her." She looked over at the body of the Captain, not letting any of her emotions show. "He must have been in league with Talon. I can only assume Valerie is dead. He brought her to me instead, and once we were alone, she took my by surprise with her Curse. She meant to kill me, I think, but she doesn't have enough control over it."

  "And now you want me to spare her?"

  "I want you to use her, my Lord. If we make it known that we have Eryn Albion, Talon is sure to come back to Varrow to help her."

  "No, Caela. He won't. Not the Talon I knew. He's on his way to Edgewater in search of him. If he sent this girl to kill you, he would have known there was a chance she wouldn't succeed." He paused, rubbing his beard with his meaty fingers. "Why would he send her to kill you? What value is there in the death of one Overlord?"

  "Perhaps he hoped to incite rebellion in Varrow," Caela said. "A distraction."

  "A distraction, what?" Spyne looked over at her again.

  "A distraction, my Lord," she replied.

  Spyne gained a small, pleased smile. Eryn was disgusted by the way he seemed to treat people as little more than poorly tended tools.

  "You are fortunate, Overlord, " Spyne said, "because I believe you. Heden help you if I discover you've tried to trick me." He looked at Eryn again, his eyes down on her cleavage, and then rising back to her face. "As for you - I know Talon is traveling with another Cursed. Perhaps his use for you is at an end? I don't need you as bait; my Historians are more than capable of hunting him down.

  "Which means my use for you is also at an end."

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Eryn

  Eryn's heart raced. She started struggling again, trying to break free of the painted man's grip. It was no use. She was going to die, here and now.

  At least I'll never change. Never become a monster, like Malik. Talon, Wilem, I love you. I will watch over you. Fehri, I'm sorry.

  She took one last breath and closed her eyes, waiting to feel the cold pain of Spyne's ircidium blade sinking between her ribs.

  Instead, she felt the gathering of magic in her senses, coming from the Overlord. What was she doing?

  She understood when it happened. Her Curse was defending her. It rose inside her like a tidal wave smashing against the shore, throwing out a massive burst of energy. Caela was thrown back into the wall a second time. General Spyne's eyes widened, and then he too was pushed away, sent tumbling down the corridor and slamming into the stone with enough force to crack it. His sword fell away, unable to absorb the blast.

  She felt the grip on her vanish, the man behind her also thrown loose. The magic subsided, and she felt dizzy. She fought against it. There was no time. She bent down and retrieved the pack again, taking only a moment to glance at the Overlord one more time, and hope that the second time had the same result as the first.

  She took a few stumbling steps, her head spinning, her eyes unable to focus. She knew where the dungeon was, she just had to reach it.

  She heard something behind her. She turned her head and was able to make out the shape of the tattooed man behind her. He had been thrown back by her magic, but he had already recovered, and was giving chase.

  Who is he?

  She pushed herself to move faster, but the heavy gown she was wearing made such movement difficult. She paused for just long enough to drop the pack, rip the dark cloth from her shoulders and squirm her way out of it. It fell in a heap at her ankles and left her in nothing but her underwear, a tiara, gloves, an
d boots.

  Better to be naked than dead.

  She lifted the pack again and started running, faster now. She looked back, seeing the man was only a dozen feet behind her. The chase seemed to be returning her energy faster than resting on the desk had, and free of the gown she gained speed as she reached the end of the corridor and turned left towards the antechamber.

  She was halfway to the door when she looked back again. The painted man had stopped running. He watched her with a look of... Admiration? Lust? Confusion? It was hard for her to tell.

  She kept running, reaching the door to the antechamber. She saw Reema pressed against the wall, her entire body shaking.

  Then she saw the soldiers.

  There were four of them arranged in the room, two facing in either direction. They noticed her at the same time she saw them, and she pulled to a stop while they fought to recover from the sight of her in near undress and covered in blood.

  The General might have been able to join the distortion field. These men surely weren't. She would only have a few seconds, but it was all she needed to get past them and out the door.

  The magic came to her so easily. Almost too easily. It was as though the Curse knew she was in trouble, and was aiding her escape. She whispered the word and created the field before the soldiers could even move, slipping out of their timeline and running past them while they remained frozen. Once she was outside, she waited until she was halfway to the dungeon entrance before dropping the field.

  She began to feel dizzy as soon as the field was gone. From the magic? Or was it because she had lost so much blood?

  "I don't have time to be dizzy," she cursed, putting her hand down to keep herself from falling over, straightening and bolting for the bastion that covered the stairs down into the dungeons. The nobles and commoners who were in the palace courtyard screamed at the sight of her, and the other soldiers there joined the chase. How was she going to get out of this, even if she made it to the dungeon? It would take a miracle from Amman.

  The miracle came in the form of a juggernaut.