Heartless Heirs

by MarcyKate Connolly

  “For when the past is present,” I read aloud. A shiver runs over my arms.

  “What could that mean?” Aro wonders, peering over my shoulder. “Look.” He points to one of the runes about halfway down the page. “That rune is for an alchemical. Could this be a recipe?”

  I hold up a hand to quiet the boys while I concentrate on translating. “No,” I say slowly. “I think this is a spell of some sort. A very old one that utilizes alchemicals too.”

  I puzzle for a long moment over the first rune in what appears to be the title.

  Then a heady, dizzying rush whispers over me.

  “Anvil save us, I think this is the Heartsong.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Zandria says once she and Remy return with a rescued Magi. The newest Alliance recruit, Evyn, is sleeping in one of the rooms. To my surprise, Remy spent more time getting her settled and calmed than Zandria did. My sister told me she wanted to take the lead with the new recruits, but her actions say otherwise.

  “It’s true.” I point to the runes at the top of the page. “This looks like the rune for heart and the other for song. What else could it be?”

  She shakes her head with disbelief. “Even if it is the Heartsong, what does it matter? You can hardly make out half the runes, and a whole piece is missing here at the bottom. If anything, it’s just a tease.”

  I’ve been worried over the same details, but I’ve already come up with a solution. Well, part of a solution.

  “We can use a spell to bond more ink to the faded parts, which should make this more legible.” I sigh. “Though there isn’t much we can do about the missing piece.”

  If Catoria were here, she might be able to puzzle it out. But as it is, I’m stumped. Aro was right earlier—this spell uses magic and alchemicals, various ones at different times in the spell. It is highly complex, more so than any other spell I’ve seen before.

  “Well, it is certainly the strangest spell I’ve ever seen, if it is one,” Zandria says. “But I hope you aren’t getting your hopes up over this when we can’t even use it.” She gives me a significant look.

  My sister knows me too well. Of course my hopes are up. If anything, after we’re finished in Palinor (assuming we survive), we’ll take this to our mentor and see if her knowledge can help us solve the puzzle.

  “Only a little,” I say, and she shakes her head. I decide to appeal to her more practical side. “Zandria, a spell that could cure the Heartless could also thwart Darian’s plans. That is something worth pursuing, even though it may take us some time.”

  “Well, I disagree. We don’t have time to waste worrying about it,” she says, standing up from the table. “We have more pressing things to consider, like rescuing the Magi in the dungeons and destroying the Technocrats.”

  Before I can say another word, she hurries from the room. While I knew my sister wouldn’t be eager to heal Technocrats, I did hope she’d be more open to it. I can’t help worrying her brushing this off has more to do with her personal dislike than the challenge of deciphering the spell in full.

  Aro puts his arm over my shoulder and I lean into him. “What do you think?” I ask. We hardly had time to discuss it earlier. Zandria and Remy arrived moments after I discovered what the paper really was.

  “It’s worth pursuing. If we can figure out the spell, then we have an obligation to use it. It’s the right thing to do.”

  “I agree. And it could go a long way to helping win over the people of the city too.”

  He smiles and kisses my forehead. “Always plotting.”

  “What about you, though? I thought you’d be more excited about what it could mean.” I rest a hand over his chest and the machine ticks off beneath my fingers.

  Aro runs a hand through his hair, considering. “You know, it’s funny. Worry about my heart used to consume me. I’d dream of a day, foolish as I knew it was, that I could have a human heart. But ever since we were bonded, I think of it less and less. I’m no longer being poisoned. It doesn’t cause me pain anymore. The urgency just isn’t there. But it might be nice not to have a machine in my chest anymore.” He tugs my hand. “What I am sure of is that we must pursue it. Not for me, but for all the Heartless who haven’t been so fortunate as to have a Magi to bond with. They’re still very much at risk, both from poisoning and from Darian’s machinations. He cannot be allowed to take advantage of their desperation.”

  His pale half-moon eyes gaze into mine, filling me with certainty. “Then we’ll just have to figure it out,” I say.

  “I’ll make sure we do,” Aro says, an eager grin spreading over his face. “We’ve all learned the basics of the runes from Catoria, and I’ve been studying alchemicals. We can solve this riddle. And then no one will ever need another mechanical heart.”

  There he is, Aro the researcher who stole my heart with his passion for his work. Little did I know then it really was a love for his people and a deep-seated desire to help others. This time we’re on the same side. If there’s a way to recreate the Heartsong, we’ll find it together.

  CHAPTER 27

  OVER THE LAST WEEK, WE’VE GONE ON A new raid every day. Sometimes at night, other times during the day, depending on what we’re after. Our food and weapon stores have increased exponentially. Zandria and I take turns raiding the dungeons in pairs with either Remy or Owen, and we’ve saved several more Magi. Some have been in those suits for months, but thus far no one has been there longer than a year.

  I assume because they simply don’t survive that long in such a torturous state.

  The freed Magi have all sworn their allegiance to the Alchemist Alliance and know how to return to our base of operations. But most have family in safehouses here in the city and have chosen to find them instead of remaining at our hideout. I can’t blame them, even though we’ve tried to convince them our underground bunker is safer. We’ve taught them the appearance-changing spell; they can conceal who they are when they need to.

  We’ve also decided on a signal, one we can give out in the event we need everyone to convene. The letters AA carved into the trunk of the great willow tree on the square.

  Remy has stepped up and taken the lead on helping the former prisoners reach their safehouses and ensuring they have what they need. And he’s planning to check on them each week to ensure they’re still safe and up to speed on the Alliance’s progress. Zandria was supposed to do this, but in the end, she balked at it. It seems it was too soon for her to be so near all that pain again.

  Vivienne and Remy train regularly now, as do Aro and I. And of course, I still spar with my sister when she’s willing, to keep myself in the best form possible.

  Remy no longer complains when we bring Vivienne on the raids, but he’s still unwilling to let her wander aboveground on her own. Personally, I feel she’s earned our trust.

  But gradually, she’s winning him over.

  An hour ago, we returned from an early morning raid of a bakery. Vivienne clued us in to the fact it’s the best time to swipe nearly everything we need for the week. While the bakers display a fair amount of their wares in cases, they keep the bulk of their daily stores in the back room as they cool. In the morning hours, they’re distracted by setting up the front and chatting with the first customers.

  All we had to do was climb in the open window and steal a few loaves of bread, a basket of rolls, even a pie—I haven’t eaten a pie in what feels like years—and slink back out the door. We only take what we need so we’re not leaving the stores destitute.

  I’ve also been discussing some ideas with Aro about how to handle his parents. The people of the city are key. We need them on our side.

  The trick will be getting them there.

  We’ve finished distributing the rolls for our breakfast and are storing away the rest when Zandria strides into the war room and doesn’t stop until she’s toe to toe with me.

  “Someone followed you,” Zandria says, scowling. She and Owen have been on guard duty in the tunnels outsid
e our hideout this morning.

  The blood drains from my face. I’m always cautious. I even change my red hair to a jet black whenever I’m in the city to ensure I don’t stand out. Who on earth could’ve followed us here?

  “Where did you find them?” I ask, my entire body humming with nerves. We’ve only just settled into this hideout. I’d hate to have to abandon it already.

  “Skulking around the tunnels. He couldn’t get in, of course, but he seemed to know where the entrance was. He must’ve seen you come in here.”

  “That’s impossible.”

  She folds her arms across her chest and stares daggers at me. “He’s even asking for you. By name.”

  My blood runs cold. “What?”

  “I was inclined to simply kill him but thought you might be mad if I didn’t at least tell you about it first, since you have such a soft spot for our enemies now.”

  I roll my eyes at Zandria. “Trust me, killing them isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” A shiver runs through me. Even now, that fight with Caden haunts me.

  Zandria raises an eyebrow. I’ve told her about the incident before, but it’s the sort of thing she’ll never fully understand until confronted with it. Unless I’m wrong, and her heart’s simply frozen after being held in the Technocrats’ dungeons.

  “Take me to him,” I say, and she leads the way to the cells we made from the Alliance’s hidden room.

  My shock is complete when I see a familiar face trapped behind the root bars of the cell.

  “Leon?” I gasp.

  Zandria raises her eyebrows. “This is Leon Salter? I thought he’d be . . . taller.”

  Leon isn’t short, but he’s not tall like Aro. His dark skin and grizzled white hair are the same as before, but the expression on his face is less surly than usual. He looks almost . . . desperate. Which isn’t surprising considering where he is.

  “I’ll talk to him. Alone,” I tell Zandria. Curiosity fills me, but I must be cautious around my former employer. I can’t imagine why he’d follow me here unless the king and queen put him up to it. But why would they ask Leon when they have Darian? Nothing makes sense.

  “You better fill me in on every word later,” Zandria says.

  “Definitely. Just like old times,” I say. She smiles suddenly, almost like the sister she used to be, before climbing the stairs and leaving me with our prisoner.

  I enter the small room, with its handful of cells in case we need them. Zandria was right; it’s a good thing we took that precaution.

  Leon stands when he sees me and shuffles forward on his mechanical foot and normal, flesh one. He squints, and I realize my hair is still black. I whisper the spell and it turns red again.

  He sighs in relief. “Aissa, it’s really you. I thought it was when I spied you topside.”

  I scoff. “I’m surprised you even know my name. You only showed me contempt when I worked for you.”

  “You had a lot to prove,” he says. “I can’t take just anyone.” He grunts. “Usually they don’t last more than a couple days. You lasted longer than any apprentice I’ve trained in years.”

  Part of me warms to hear that. Despite his grumpiness toward me, I did good work. I knew that, but it’s still nice to have confirmation from the Master Mechanic himself.

  “Who knows you’re here? Why were you following me?” How did you even know I was back in the city is another question burning on my tongue, but I decide to let him answer the others first.

  “No one knows,” he says, taken aback. “The king and queen may pay me well for my work, but they don’t control me or my movements.”

  “So they didn’t send you?”

  He scoffs.

  “Then why were you following me?”

  “I almost didn’t recognize you at first with the dark hair, but your face is unmistakable.”

  I grit my teeth. I don’t enjoy the part of that spell that changes features. It’s painful, while changing my hair is not. And the latter has been just as effective—up until now. Of course, Leon would notice. He’s rather annoying in that way.

  “All right, that explains how you found me, but why?”

  “Aro. He told me about a Magi girl who healed him. It wasn’t hard to figure out that was you.” Leon grips the bars tightly. He wears an expression I’ve never seen cross his face before. Hope, almost. “You saved him. You achieved what I’ve wanted to do for decades.”

  Shock roots me to the spot. I knew Aro had told Leon he fell in love with a Magi, but he was careful not to mention me by name.

  “And what is that?”

  “His machine heart was broken. You healed it . . . with magic. Yes, I know what you are. Trust me, it brings me no pleasure to be going to a Magi for help.”

  I snort. “Then why are you? And what exactly do you want help with?” Sometimes, Leon is a master of not getting to the point.

  “Because the cause is greater than my pride.”

  I raise both my eyebrows. This is unexpected. “What cause?”

  “Saving the Heartless. They don’t deserve to suffer. You have the power to change that.”

  For a moment, I’m taken aback. I don’t actually have that power—yet—but he’d have no way of knowing. If we can successfully decipher the Heartsong, we may be able to save them. But at the moment, the Binding rite is all I have, and I could only do that once.

  “Did Aro explain how the spell worked?”

  Leon shakes his head.

  “In essence, his heart and mine are intertwined, permanently. It means that when he hurts, I hurt, literally. If he dies, I die. That’s how he was healed right before your eyes. I experienced the same beating he’d gotten, but from miles away. I was healed by another Magi, and thereby so was Aro.”

  Disappointment slackens Leon’s face. He grunts. “Then you wouldn’t be able to bind like that with hundreds of children.”

  “Definitely not. You can only be bound to a single person.”

  “Is there nothing else you could do? No other spell you could try?” I’m surprised to see actual emotion aside from grumpiness in Leon. “I know the king and queen have been cruel to the Magi they’ve found. But the Heartless . . . they’re innocents.”

  If we had the complete Heartsong, it could go a long way toward healing the rift between Technocrat and Magi. Though not with the king and queen. Their hatred, their fear of our power, is too great. The second they get wind of our reappearance in Palinor, they’ll order us found and slaughtered. They probably already have. I’m sure Darian would be delighted to carry out those orders.

  “There is one spell with some promise, but it will take time and research. Most of our spells were lost in the wars.”

  “If you can, please help them.”

  I frown. I’ve long wondered why Leon has such a soft spot for the Heartless. “Why do you care so much about the Heartless, anyway? You didn’t charge the hospital for the hearts we delivered. That was unlike you.”

  Leon sinks onto the bench made from a stone slab in his cell. “I had a family once. A wife and daughter. The girl was born Heartless. I crafted her hearts personally. I made them as perfect as possible. But she was weak from the start . . .” His voice cracks. “She didn’t live to see her third birthday.”

  Sympathy swells in my heart in just the way I shouldn’t let it. This man is my enemy. Once, I couldn’t wait to destroy this city just to see the look on his face. But now that he sits across from me, completely at my mercy, the fight has slipped out of me.

  He risked his life, knowing full well we’d probably kill him, to plead for us to save the Heartless. To do the one thing he couldn’t. The memory of the Heartless hospital, those sweet, sad faces tainted with the gray tint from the havani that powers their hearts, has never left me. He’s right; they’re innocent.

  “Look,” he says. “I don’t care what you do to me. Kill me if you must. But please, just do what you can for them. That’s all I want. For no parent to have to lose another child to that terr
ible curse.”

  “I’ll think about it,” I tell him. The backs of my eyes burn as I leave the room. Who would’ve ever imagined that Leon Salter’s words would move me to tears?

  “Absolutely not!” Zandria says. I’ve just explained to her I don’t think we should kill Leon. “We cannot let him go.”

  “We’re letting Vivienne live,” I point out.

  “That’s not necessarily a permanent thing,” Zandria responds. “And it doesn’t mean we need to keep making exceptions. He knows what we can do, Aissa!”

  Remy holds up his hands to get our attention. “Fighting among ourselves will do us no good.”

  Zandria sighs, and Owen puts a hand on her shoulder. She begins to relax. He’s been having that effect on her more often lately. I wonder if there’s something brewing between them. I will have to ask her later.

  “I don’t see what good will come of killing him,” Owen says. “Why don’t we just keep him in the dungeon for now? He might be useful later on. You said he knows the king and queen well, doesn’t he?”

  “I’d rather let him go, but I can agree to that for now,” I say, and Owen tilts his head at me. “Leon hasn’t done anything to harm us. He’s only here to beg for the lives of children. Killing him over that seems wrong.”

  “We wouldn’t be killing him for that; we’d be doing it because he’s one of them,” Zandria says.

  “We can always kill him later, if need be,” Remy says, “as long as he’s here under our watch.”

  That finally appeases Zandria. “Fine. We’ll let him live, for now. But I make no promises once he’s outlived his usefulness.”

  She huffs off, followed closely by Owen. I shudder, unable to help thinking how closely her words echo those of Isaiah about his own Technocrat captives. She’s still thinking in terms of value to our cause and regaining power for the Magi. Revenge, even. But as we free Magi and bring Technocrats over to our side, I’m becoming more and more convinced that the Alchemist Alliance was right: the struggle itself for power and dominance is part of the problem. We need to find a way to become equals again.