The Deceiver's Heart

by Jennifer A. Nielsen

  “Kestra will ride with her betrothed,” Tenger said.

  Basil smiled and held out a winter cloak for her, which she gratefully accepted. Deflated and suddenly queasy, I let Kestra go. My heart felt as if that knife might’ve hit me instead.

  Or maybe I simply wished it had.

  I was a Corack again, with an oath to serve a captain I no longer trusted, who would never again trust me.

  I’d given him my sword, a weapon I had once promised to protect with my life.

  And the affection shining in Kestra’s eyes that used to be reserved for me was now for Basil. When she looked at me, it was with fear and loathing, and a hope never to have to speak to me again.

  But I had no intention of giving up now. She and I would definitely be speaking again.

  Basil took my hand and lifted me onto the horse with him. “Are you well? He didn’t hurt you, I hope.”

  Rather than answer, I cast him a glare. “Are we their captives, or guests?”

  He shrugged. “Honestly, Kestra, I’m not sure. Maybe we’re both.”

  “And you planned this?”

  “Please, just trust me.” That was all he could say. Which was hardly enough for my comfort.

  The two Coracks with Basil were both as young as Simon, a girl dressed in riding crops with her hair in a single braid down her back, and a rather handsome boy who rode forward, addressing the man I now knew as Captain Tenger.

  The boy said, “Ironhearts might have seen us leaving.”

  Tenger started toward his horse. “Then let’s go.”

  We followed him for an hour before he announced it was too dark to safely continue and led us to some caves on the northern coastline. Basil and I were ushered deepest inside, which I didn’t like at all, and the others filled in to guard the entrance. Bedrolls were passed back to us, though I wasn’t tired. But everyone else settled in for the night, so I did too.

  “This cave is loaded with terrador plants,” the handsome Corack called out. “For anyone who’s feeling hungry, listen carefully. Eat one, and you’ll be uncomfortable all night. Eat two and you’ll wish you were dead. Eat three, and you will be.”

  Near me was a patch of small leafy plants with tiny white flowers near the stems. Terrador. His advice was met with groans, but he only responded with, “Don’t say I never warned you.”

  From behind me, Basil touched my arm and tried to explain what was happening, but I rolled away from him. Not only was I angry, but the Coracks were talking and I wanted to listen in on their conversation.

  Their voices were low, so I couldn’t hear everything, but Simon and the two Coracks who had come with Basil were clearly in an argument.

  “… told you not to interfere.” The girl said that.

  “… this complicates everything.” That was the other Corack.

  “You don’t care about Kestra.” Simon’s words came through with perfect clarity. “Only her mission.”

  “And you’ve forgotten her mission.” The girl said something more after that, but it was drowned out by a horse’s snort.

  Basil must have suspected I was still awake, because he leaned over and whispered, “The next few days may be confusing. But—”

  “What mission are they talking about?” I asked, loud enough for everyone to hear.

  The Coracks went silent, waiting for Basil’s response. And all he came up with was, “My love, your mission is to survive until you can go home.”

  In the darkness, someone snorted with irritation, probably Simon. I merely rolled over and pretended to fall asleep, free of guilt for the deception after Basil had offered me such a half-hearted answer. I’d ask someone else later, if I met anyone here I could trust with the truth.

  As the trio of Coracks continued arguing, I figured out their names. Trina was the girl, and most of the bickering was between her and Simon. The other boy was named Gabe. He struck me as a kind of peacemaker, an odd trait for a Corack whose every waking minute was dedicated to making war against us. Clearly he had been friends with Simon, and yet something had gone wrong between them. Simon and Trina seemed to have been friends once too. But no more.

  Eventually, Tenger ordered all of them to hush and told Simon to take first watch. The cave went quiet, except for Simon’s occasional footsteps as he paced back and forth. When he finally stopped walking, I took a chance and peeked up to see where he was. He stood at the cave entrance, almost perfectly still, and although it was dark I was certain that he was watching me.

  I ducked my head again and stayed that way until I fell asleep.

  Dawn had barely broken when Wynnow awoke everyone with a shout that oropods were headed our way. “Hurry! I’ll stay behind and shoot down any riders I can.”

  I’d never in my life seen anyone move as fast as the Coracks did, gathering up last night’s supplies and practically flying onto their horses. Basil lifted me onto his horse and raced us out of the cave at a full gallop directly behind Tenger.

  By the time we made it to the road, I glanced back and saw the dirt being kicked up by the powerful oropod legs. At the speed they were traveling, I doubted we’d get very far.

  “Head toward the river!” Tenger shouted.

  It was a smart decision. For as fast as they were on land, oropods could not swim, especially nothing as formidable as the Longfinger River ahead. It was wide and deep, and a person would have to be insane to consider crossing it. Yet once we reached its shores, Tenger immediately jumped in with his horse, holding tight to the reins as the current carried him downriver and the horse swam forward.

  “Don’t follow them in,” I told Basil. “I can’t swim.”

  “Yes, you can,” he replied. “And we have to go in.”

  Seconds later, we were in the water too. I gasped with its chill, but Basil assured me we’d be safe. We were, until the water rose as high as my chest. Before I could help myself, the current took hold of my long skirts, pulling me out from beneath Basil’s arms.

  He called for help and others of our group began shouting my name, but my head was bobbing in and out of the water as it carried me away. I rounded a bend, struggling for each breath but mostly swallowing water and feeling increasingly weighted down by my heavy skirts.

  Within minutes, Basil and the Coracks were out of sight, as was any hope of rescue. I turned long enough to see that I was drifting toward the dead black trees of All Spirits Forest, and my heart froze. What had been fear before became a terrifying certainty that I was about to die. This was haunted territory, and no one loyal to Lord Endrick survived these woods. Ever.

  At the border of the forest, my body slammed against a rock jutting from the water, hitting my right leg the hardest. I twisted around, desperate to get a hand on it. The rock was slippery, and spray blasted against my face, but I found a narrow grip and dug my fingers into it. The water was frigid, though I didn’t know if that was the cause of my shivering, or the sure knowledge that my life was as tenuous as my hold on this rock.

  I had to hold on and go no farther. The dead were watching me. I knew that, as certain as I felt my heart pounding. A daughter of the Dominion was within their clutches. Claiming me would be a satisfactory revenge against Lord Endrick.

  Above the noise of the river and the cries in my head to tighten my grip, I thought I heard a horse approaching, maybe someone calling my name. I tried to look, but the rock blocked my view.

  It didn’t matter anyway, because invisible hands beneath the water seemed intent on grabbing my long skirts, tugging me off the rock, pulling me under. Keeping me under. These were the spirits of the dead, and no matter how I struggled upward, they were winning.

  The clammy hands of half-life spirits clutched at me on all sides, as if competing for who could drag me to the river bottom the fastest. Their wispy faces crowded around me, angry and wild-eyed, drowning me. My last breath burst from my lungs and I inhaled water instead. I tried again to break free, but by then, I was so battered by the current that I couldn’t tell which
way was up. Even if I knew, it wouldn’t matter. They’d only pull me down again.

  This was death.

  This was worse than death.

  Then, as quickly as they’d come, the spirits vanished, as if repelled. With one exception, a presence that seemed strangely familiar. I heard no voice, saw nothing in the blurry water, but I knew I was being pushed out of the deep river.

  From out of nowhere, an arm reached around my waist from above and the pull became more tangible. I fought it at first, confused and disoriented. A few seconds later, my head surfaced, but I still couldn’t breathe.

  “Stop fighting, let me help you!” That was Simon’s voice. He was holding on to me with one hand and to his horse with the other.

  I wasn’t fighting him. I needed air, needed to escape the spirits who were still surrounding me, gripping at my throat. I thrashed around, suffocating even in this open air.

  Simon directed his horse to swim to shore, and as the water became shallower, he pulled me into the saddle ahead of him. He immediately kicked the horse into a run, muttering something about me holding on.

  As soon as we cleared the borders of the forest, sunlight hit my face and I drew my first real breath since going under the water. I choked on what I’d swallowed, then continued pulling in as much air as I could get. When I was more settled, I looked back toward the dead forest, hoping to see any sign of what had happened.

  “It’s all right,” Simon said, misunderstanding my interest in the forest. “We’re far enough away now.” He stopped the horse at the side of the road and helped me out of the saddle, where I collapsed beside a large rock to continue catching my breath.

  “Why did they attack you?” he asked.

  “They attack everyone loyal to Lord Endrick,” I replied, wondering how he could miss the most obvious detail. “They pulled me under.”

  “Yes, at first. But then something pushed you out, or I’d never have reached you. What was that?”

  One of the spirits in that forest wanted me to live, which was something I couldn’t begin to explain. Nor would I explain anything to him.

  He said, “You’ve been there before, Kes. They let you enter before.”

  If I’d had the strength for it, I would’ve laughed in his face. “Impossible! I am a Dallisor!”

  He stared at me and something in his expression changed. “That’s right. You are a Dallisor,” he said, as if this was somehow new information.

  “And you’re that boy who was watching me in the market earlier today,” I said, finally recognizing him. “I don’t know why you’re so focused on me, but let me be clear. I desire neither your attention nor your friendship.”

  He clicked his tongue, so I knew I’d successfully irritated him. “If you’re ready, we’ll return to the others. Let’s hope your beloved Basil doesn’t almost get you killed again.”

  “It was an accident.”

  “This time,” he mumbled. Or at least, I thought that’s what he’d said. He pulled out his knife and marched toward me so fast that I stood, frightened of what he’d do next, until I realized his target was the extra fabric of my dress. He gathered the ends into his hands and cut away the excess with his knife, then tossed it back into the river. I shuddered to watch it drift away, slowing sinking beneath the surface. If not for Simon, that would’ve been me.

  “It’s all right,” he said when he noticed my distress. “You’re safe now.”

  “We both know I’m not.”

  He stared at me without responding for what felt like a very long time, then lifted me onto his horse to return to the group.

  Basil let out an audible sigh of relief when he saw me and eagerly rode forward. “My love, I’m so relieved.”

  “You returned her?” Tenger was clearly surprised to see us.

  Simon cocked his head. “Wasn’t that your order?”

  Tenger leaned into his saddle. “Wasn’t that your order … ?” He waited.

  “Sir.” Simon finished the sentence with a bite to his voice. “Wasn’t that your order, sir?”

  I watched him walk over to Gabe, where they spoke in low voices. Simon was clearly angry, but his eyes continually flitted back to me, and despite what I had told him earlier, I found myself watching him. I hated him for stealing me away from all that was familiar, but something about him felt familiar too. As impossible as that was, I wanted to understand him better.

  No, if I was going to survive this, then I needed to understand him, this boy who treated me like a prisoner, spoke to me like an enemy, but who looked at me with such hunger, as if I held a place in his heart.

  I was finally ready to accept at least one fact about Kestra: My feelings for her would never be indifferent, nor even mild. Either she’d keep me on the edge of my temper, or so passionate that I’d go over a cliff just to see her again. It was awful to be apart from her, but torture to be close to her when I couldn’t get closer still. My heart stopped whenever I caught a glimpse of her smile and split apart every time she looked at me like I was the mud beneath her boot. She claimed to be my prisoner, but in fact, I was hers. She was a far greater threat to me than I ever could be to her.

  After we returned to the others, I released her to Basil only because I needed to breathe again without having to inhale her scent, her essence, and the tragedy that something had fundamentally changed about her. The Kestra I had known was gone, possibly forever. What happened in All Spirits Forest had proved that. She was truly a Dallisor now.

  After assuring us the oropods were no longer on our trail, Tenger led us southward, I suspected toward the Drybelt. The Coracks had a secret camp there known as Lonetree, which was a fairly accurate description of its appearance above ground. Below, however, was a vast system of underground caves that from the surface only appeared as a small crevice in the earth. It was our oldest camp, our largest, and the best prepared for defense, if that ever became necessary. So far, the Dominion had never found it.

  I rode up beside Tenger. “Don’t you think we got away from those oropods rather easily? The Dominion never just gives up.”

  “Agreed. They could have a trap laid out ahead for us.” Tenger sighed. “You have a good mind for leadership, Simon. What a pity to have lost you.”

  “You have my oath again. I gave you my sword, and I returned Kestra, as ordered. Tell me the plan now.”

  Tenger clicked his tongue. “You can’t believe it’ll be that simple.”

  I arched a brow but tried not to let my irritation show. “Pulling her out of that river wasn’t simple.”

  “You didn’t do that because I ordered you to. You didn’t even do it to protect the Olden Blade.”

  “But I did do it. Do we know where the Olden Blade is … sir?”

  Tenger looked sideways at me. “As I already said, Hatch, it won’t be that easy for you to come back. You would’ve been my next in line, my hope for the rebellion to continue if I ever fell in battle. But now … you are the water boy. The person who brings my meals and scrubs my dishes, and you’ll do it with a smile on your face until I’m convinced you mean it, if you want to continue having access to her.”

  “I want to know—”

  Tenger cocked his head. “What was that?”

  My grip tightened on my reins. “Yes, sir.”

  “Then ride at the back. You have no right to be up here.”

  I slowed my horse, steering to the side of the trail. “Yes, sir, Captain Tenger.”

  Yes, sir, because I would smile and carry out his orders and do whatever I had to do for now. But only until I got my sword back, and Kestra as she was before, if either were possible.

  I waited there for Trina and Gabe to pass. He offered me an apologetic smile, and Trina grunted my name. Basil and Kestra came next. Basil thanked me again for saving Kestra. She didn’t even blink in my direction.

  And I fell in line at the end, trying to watch anything but her. Doing a miserable job of ignoring the way she observed the scenery as we passed, the gentle
pat of her hand on her horse. The brush of her fingers along her right thigh where she once had been accustomed to feeling a weapon.

  Sending me to a place so near her, and so far apart, was a punishment beyond anything Tenger could have imagined. Every mile forward tore deeper into me. I was sure he knew it too.

  We rode into Lonetree Camp early that evening, all of us road-weary and hungry. The Drybelt was the arid center of Antora, with flat plains in the north and deep crevices in the land farther south. In the early days of the rebellion, the Coracks had fled here to hide and had come upon an underground river and natural vents in the cave ceiling to provide fresh air. Thus, Lonetree Camp was barely detectable from most places above ground. As many as four hundred people could live underground here, for extended periods of time, if necessary. Although the surrounding land was hostile, it also provided us the advantage of sparse population and few Dominion soldiers ever passing this way.

  I didn’t know most of the Coracks who came out to greet Tenger, but when a young boy offered to attend to my horse, his eyes widened. “You’re Simon Hatch! We’ve heard about you out here.”

  My smile was wary. “About me?”

  “The mission, to find the Olden Blade. My mother was surprised the captain put so much trust in someone your age. Someone … so near her age.”

  Oh. “I wasn’t the captain’s first choice.”

  “Maybe not. But you found the Blade.”

  Only for it to be lost now. Or lost to me. Surely Tenger knew more than he was saying about what Kestra had done with it.

  “What happens now?” Basil asked Tenger.

  “Everyone needs to sleep, then we’ll talk in the morning.” With that, Tenger nodded at the gathered Coracks, who immediately pulled out disk bows and surrounded me, Kestra, and Basil. They already had their orders.

  “I’m sorry,” Gabe told me. “Tenger also wants your knife.” I pulled my knife from its sheath and, holding it by the blade, offered it to Gabe. He frowned at me before tucking it inside his belt. “You understand why it has to be this way.”