Bring Me Their Hearts

by Sara Wolf

  Someone’s killed me. Someone who knows I’m Heartless.

  I look up, Lucien the only thing I see, his dark eyes unreadable, unmovable. Desperately, hopelessly, I reach out for him.

  “Lucien—” I croak. “I’m sorry. I’m so…so sorry.”

  My legs give out, the earth pulling me to it inescapably. The smell of pine in my nose, the smell of blood. This is so familiar—like so many days I spent in Nightsinger’s forest, being killed by mercenaries. By hungry wildcats. Today it is neither. Today, from what little I can see out of my blurring eyes and unresponsive body, it’s Gavik. A strange Gavik—disheveled and in a plain, tattered brown robe, his white hair and beard dusty as if he’s been traveling, his cold blue eyes ever the same, two shards of ice that look down on me cruelly. I can hear him speaking to Lucien, only half of it audible.

  “—made it in time. Your bodyguard told me where you were…Heartless appear to pass out after…struck with such a weapon, but in reality they die…she wasn’t afraid to die in the black market…when I saw the duel, I had my suspicions…a traitor harlot, and a bitch besides…”

  Faintly, my neck cracks as Gavik wrenches my head up by my hair. He’s mocking me—I can hear it in the tone of his voice, even if my brain is dying too rapidly to understand much more.

  “…this is ideal…though your father will be so distraught…that his son, too, was killed by a Heartless.”

  Lucien? Killed…by a Heartless? I haven’t done that. He’s still alive, I can see him just in front of me—

  “…the entire country…mourning the loss of a Crown Prince…eager for revenge, don’t you think? Another war will begin…”

  I see a glimmer of Varia’s sword as Lucien draws it. Gavik’s laughter rumbles, and then the sound of a dozen footsteps—heavy, in metal armor. Lawguards? All around us.

  The sound of a dozen swords drawing.

  Lucien. They’re going to kill Lucien! As my vision threatens to go dark once and for all I force my eyes open. No—not like this.

  Weak, the hunger chortles, tiredly—as if it, too, is dying. You were weak, and this is what you get. He dies because of you. You die because of him. How romantic.

  I can feel it; through even the darkness of death, I can feel the hunger still in me. It’s stronger than anything that’s left inside—any emotion, any energy. It’s all I have. It’s all I am, here, at death’s door.

  I’ve died a dozen times, and yet getting up now is the most pain I’ve ever felt. Blankets of needles beneath my skin, acid in my veins instead of blood—I can barely blink without spasms running through me. My knees buckle, my very fingernails throb in agony. My vision is just a blur of colors—of movements. A ring of silver, a figure of white, and a figure of raven’s-wing black.

  But there, on the wind, I smell it.

  Human, the hunger rasps. Fear!

  For the second time in my life, I give in to the hunger.

  The world is darkness, but all of a sudden I can taste heat, see colors—my limbs give aching creaks, elongating until I’m much taller, much thinner. I feel my teeth extending beyond my lips, claws breaking through my fingertips. No thoughts—only desperation. Desperation to get at the source of the delicious heat surrounding me; I move like wind, like water, in leaps and bounds, only two steps needed to catch up with the screaming, shining humans in armor. They’re so difficult to open, but they have soft spots between their armor—soft spots that bleed the sweetest honey. They stab at me, but it doesn’t hurt anymore. Nothing hurts anymore.

  There’s screaming, shouting, but it dies away as the silver humans dwindle to nothing more than piles of bone and flesh. The bleached yew tree is red now. Only one other thing is unsullied white —Gavik, so very afraid. He’s pissed himself, the smell acrid. I reach for him, stabbing deep with my claws into his chest and ripping him from navel to throat. Like the bandits did to me. What bandits? I can’t remember anymore—there’s only the man’s agonized cries as I devour him, some other part of me delighting in his death as more than just a way to satisfy this hunger. I throw his body away when I’m done, like a doll’s carcass.

  There’s one last blazing heat source behind me, and I whirl around, claws at the ready. He’s dark, eyes and hair like midnight, his face a hawk’s face, his sword stance a hawk’s stance.

  Not him.

  HIM, the hunger keens a low, desperate cry. I reach for him with my claws, but the sharp pain in my head staggers me. Not him. Nothimnothim!

  I’m so empty inside. I can feel it, aching there in my chest. The wound remains, but the void where my heart should be bleeds more. It aches so badly—everything aches. I become small again, my claws retracting, my teeth growing inward. The hunger fights it, rakes itself across the coals of my mind in a last, desperate attempt to regain control.

  You are in the silence. You are of the silence. Reginall’s words. Place your hand over your unheart. And you’ll find it there.

  Find what there? I put my hand over my unheart, listening. Waiting for the illusion within a lie. Nothing will beat inside my chest. Nothing has, not for three whole years.

  Not him. Not him. Not Lucien.

  There! A heartbeat! It thuds against my rib cage, so strong I can’t deny it even as an illusion. How? How is this possible? Lucien, I think. The name shines, a light in the bloodstained darkness. Lucien. My unheart—no, my heart thumps again. And again. Every time I think of his name, of what that name means to me, it beats. Lucien, who hates me now. Lucien, who kissed me. Lucien, who stands there with nothing but fear in his eyes for me.

  Lucien, who makes my heart beat again.

  The pain floods back in, deafening everything around me, but it’s completely silent in my head. The hunger doesn’t so much as stir inside me. My body feels lighter than it ever has, lighter than I can remember since I was first turned. I’m air, silk, and yet the cold void of my unheart is heavier than ever. There’s a weight there—comforting and warm.

  Two drips of something cascading down my face, something that splats red onto the leaves. Tears of blood. I’m weeping—weeping like Reginall described. Weeping, because in this moment, I’m free.

  Around me is a red landscape, lumpy and scattered with metal, and in the midst of it all stands Lucien, his face blood-flecked and utterly hollow. I stop weeping when I realize bodies surround me. The light feeling fades, replaced only by horror. Human bodies, ripped to pieces. Lawguards—how many of them? I can’t tell—every part of them is scattered, serrated, Archduke Gavik’s white hair the only thing standing out, soaking up his own blood slowly.

  “No—” I choke. “No, no, no! Not again!” I whirl to Lucien, pleading. “Please, Lucien—”

  I’m met with Varia’s blade pointed right at me, square and firm, though trembling ever so slightly as Lucien’s hand quavers. His dark eyes gleam empty, with something cold and all-consuming in the very pits of them.

  Utter fear.

  “Stay away from me,” he says softly, with a deadly edge to it that strikes at my very core. I can see it in his eyes—he no longer faces down the girl he embraced mere hours ago.

  He faces down a monster.

  “Please—”

  “If you move one more step…” Lucien grits his teeth. “I’ll cut you down where you stand.”

  I freeze in my tracks. His eyes flit between me to the mound of corpses at my feet. I want to be sick, but I can’t move for fear of him striking out at me. What do I say? What can I say? I’m disgusted, and terrified, and so confused. But so is he. Never again—I could never again feel this way, if I only had the heart in his chest.

  TAKE IT, the hunger begins again, coming over the horizon of my mind. I look up at Lucien.

  “Run,” I beg him. “Leave me—run while you still can.”

  The Crown Prince of Cavanos struggles for only a moment with his thoughts. His pause is the sort born of regret, no doubt. One second is all he gives me—one last second to take in his face, to memorize the lines and planes and bea
uty of it before it’s gone forever. One last second to relish the memories I have with him, before they shatter into a thousand irreparable pieces.

  I should’ve known—woods like these are where I belong. It’s where a thing like me is meant to stay. The witches made a mistake, sending one of their beastly puppets out to play. And now a dozen lawguards and an archduke have paid with their lives for it. Now Lucien pays with his heart for it.

  OUR LAST CHANCE, the hunger slavers mindlessly. GET HIM!

  Lucien won’t run. I don’t understand why not—he knows what I’m capable of now. He knows I’m not the girl he fell in love with. Why? Why does he insist on standing there, risking his life? I clutch my head, the hunger’s voice dark and crescendoing again. It’s so unstable, my body so weak from my wounds. I refuse to let the hunger turn me into that…thing again, but here it is, singing to me of long claws and teeth, of nothing but the urge to consume. I try to summon up the silence, Reginall’s teachings of the weeping I’d managed in that one desperate instant, but the hunger is so much stronger.

  “Lucien, please! I can’t control it for long—you have to run, now!”

  “You heard her,” a girl’s voice flits between us. “You really should run. Then again, you were never very good at that. Always had to stay and see things through to the end, like an idiot.”

  Lucien and I look to the bloodstained yew tree, where a girl no older than me stands on its roots. Her face is round, expression as calm as a lake on a winter’s morn, a shapeless robe billowing about her body. Her skin is golden oakwood, eyes like onyx, long hair so incredibly dark—the color of a raven’s wing. Unmistakable. Unforgettable. This can’t be happening—this can’t be real. I’m seeing double, or a hallucination. Lucien is the first to find strength enough for words, his voice cracking in on itself.

  “Varia.”

  The girl’s smile shines despite the blood she stands in. “Hello, brother.”

  END OF BOOK ONE

  Acknowledgments

  When I was thirteen, I realized my life dream was to write a fantasy trilogy—something grand and sweeping and unforgettable. While this book might not be any of the three to some people, it is everything to me, and consequently, I owe many people for making this dream come true. This sort of book doesn’t come about unless you have a lot of people preserving your sanity as you take a very bloody and very delightful trip into another world entirely. Eternal thanks to my indomitable editors Stacy Abrams and Lydia Sharp, without whom I would be utterly adrift. To Jessica Faust, for having the patience and wisdom to weather me. To Griffin, for always being there for me and making the best quesadilla on planet Earth, to Deborah for being a constant source of inspiration, and to everyone at the Entangled family for supporting me and my dreams. A very hearty thanks goes to Yuming Yin, the wonderful cover artist who brought Zera to such stunning life.

  A special thanks to you, reader, for following me down the rabbit hole. The journey has only begun, and I’m so excited to walk it with you. May your reading be ever pleasant and your life full of joy.

  Readers Group Guide for

  Bring Me Their Hearts

  by Sara Wolf

  Prepared by Nancy Cantor, media specialist,

  NSU University School

  • Discuss the relationship of Zera and Lucien. Did you think she would go through with the killing? Why or why not? Are they a good match?

  • Zera comments that “the people of Vetris are clearly very devout. Or very scared. Perhaps both, considering one feeds the other.” (page 73) Does this ring true for the world we live in now? Discuss how religion affected past societies and influences our current times.

  • The nobles chant this prayer: “His light of knowledge touches all who are true, his light of knowledge smites all who are false.” How does this prayer align with your beliefs?

  • Gavik states at the worship ceremony, “True peace is only an illusion, so long as a single witch remains alive in Cavanos!” (page 156) Discuss examples of how leaders use fear to control people.

  • Do the people of Vetris have just cause to be frightened of or bigoted toward the witches?

  • At the first noble banquet she attends, Zera considers how many common people one small piece of dessert could feed. Discuss the imbalance of food accessibility in our country and the world. What are some possible solutions?

  • Lucien states the polymaths’ motto is “Create the power, control the power.” (page 167) Do you believe this is an appropriate motto for the scientists of our world? Are the weapons of today controllable?

  • Zera is ridden with guilt over the murders she committed. The monster in her head told her that she paid death and suffering back with more death and suffering. (page 177) Do you agree with her? With the monster? Were the killings justified? Does she deal with her guilt in a healthy way?

  • Zera’s physical description hints that she is a bigger than average girl. What is the significance of this? Does the fact that she isn’t “perfect” in the way our society judges appearance affect your opinion of her?

  • Do you know girls like Grace and Charm? How do you deal with them?

  • Fisher tells Zera that “Killing only makes more hate, and the world’s got enough of that right now.” (page 208) How can we overcome the hate (terrorism, mass killings, etc.) in the world today?

  • King Sref is bent on revenge against the witches he believes killed his daughter. Are there alternatives to starting a war to obtain the revenge he seeks? Do you see King Sref as a weak or a strong leader?

  • Discuss Zera’s relationships with Y’shennria, Nightsinger, Crav and Peligli, Fione, and Malachite.

  • The book ends rather abruptly, with the thwarted killing of Lucien and the sudden appearance of Varia. Were these a surprise to you? What might happen to Zera and Lucien in the next book?

  About the Author

  Sara Wolf lives in San Diego, California, where she burns instead of tans. When she isn’t pouring her allotted life force into writing, she’s reading, accidentally burning houses down whilst baking, or making faces at her highly appreciative cat. She is also the author of the NYT bestselling Lovely Vicious series.

  www.sarawolfbooks.com

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