The Deceiver's Heart

by Jennifer A. Nielsen

  Simon probably knew the answer, and for all his help to me, I’d done nearly the same thing to Simon’s heart as Endrick had done to mine.

  I was no better than my king. Could I call him a villain and deny the same of myself?

  Eventually, I made it into the bathwater, which washed away the sweat and dirt and dust, but did nothing for the hurt I felt inside. I spent most of the bath in tears, for what I’d done to Simon, for what Lord Endrick had done to me and would yet do if I failed to obey him. And I cried because there was obviously something I was expected to do for Antora. Something that would force me to disobey Endrick.

  And then he would do to me what always happened to Ironhearts who disobeyed him. He never showed mercy to traitors.

  When I began to dress myself, I decided there was only one thing for me to do. I had to get away from the Coracks. Because if I stayed, I would either become Endrick’s weapon or his next victim.

  I awoke sometime in the night inside a dim room I vaguely recognized. In the corner, a person stirred.

  “Simon?” That was Gabe’s voice.

  Someone placed a damp rag over my forehead and told me to stay quiet. I knew that voice too: Tillie. Which meant Gabe had done as I’d asked. I was at Rutherhouse.

  A cup of water was offered to me and I took a few sips.

  “No poison in this one.” If Gabe thought that was funny, he was wrong. The water made me feel a little better, though the awful taste of metal in my mouth remained.

  “We almost lost you.” Tillie was speaking, though my vision was blurry, and I had trouble seeing her. “If Kestra had given you that third leaf, or if you weren’t as strong … but I think you’re past the worst of it now.”

  “Where’s—” I cleared my dry throat and accepted another drink of water before trying again. “Where is she?”

  “In the back room,” Gabe said. “Closed the door to take a bath and we haven’t seen her since.”

  “Go find her.”

  “She’ll be asleep.”

  “Go find her, Gabe.”

  He grunted but left the room.

  Tillie turned over the rag on my forehead and leaned in. “That is our Infidante? The girl who will save Antora?” When I didn’t respond, she added, “Gabe told me what you believe happened to her. Can you bring her memories back?”

  I shook my head, feeling the weight of having failed her. “Our physician believes her mind has a better chance to heal than if she were only Antoran. She also gave her a tea that was supposed to help.” I rapped a fist against the bed. “But I haven’t noticed any difference.”

  “Maybe she needs more time.”

  “Maybe. But her memories are only one complication.” I closed my eyes to rest, then said, “I can’t get her back, Tillie. Not as she was before.”

  “You barely got her back as she is now.” Gabe pushed Kestra through the door, the binding cord around one of her hands. “I found her outside, saddling a horse.”

  I caught Kestra’s eye, but she quickly looked away. Gabe was obviously angry with Kestra, but I smiled a little. Trying to run away was something the old Kestra might have done.

  I motioned to a nearby chair and asked her, “Will you stay?”

  Gabe snorted. “Are you serious?”

  “I won’t do anything more to him,” Kestra said.

  “What more can you do?” Gabe turned to me. “If she stays, I’ll stay too.”

  “Then I’ll leave,” Tillie said, already walking away. “No sense in me crowding up the room.” After a moment, Kestra sat in the corner, though she still refused to look at me.

  “Remove the binding cord,” I said to Gabe.

  He sighed but did as I asked, then retreated to the opposite corner of the room. I noticed he withdrew his knife and held it in his hands. I was sure he wanted Kestra to notice too.

  “Where were you going?” I asked. “When Gabe found you just now.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Kes—”

  “I need to find the truth.”

  “Simon’s told you the truth,” Gabe said to her. “I’ve told you the truth, but you refuse to believe it.”

  She pointed out the nearby window. “What if I were to tell you that it’s daylight out there?”

  Gabe shrugged. “It’s obviously night.”

  “What if I insist that you’re wrong, that you must be seeing things, because the sun is shining as bright as it ever has?”

  “I see your point,” Gabe said. “That’s what we’re all saying to you. But we’re all saying it. If I were the only person to see nighttime in a crowd of people who see the sun, I would ask myself if maybe I’m wrong.”

  “And if I am wrong, then isn’t it better that I discover the truth safely, away from you?”

  “You want the truth?” Gabe leaned forward, his voice rising in pitch. “Kestra, the truth is that terrible things happen to people who are around you. Just over two weeks ago, you were in a room with Captain Tenger, bargaining for the life of one of our captives, a man named Darrow.”

  She shrugged. “I’ve never heard the name.”

  “Oh, you’ve heard it. He cared for you for most of the past three years, at a time when you were exiled from your family’s home.”

  She shook her head. “That’s a lie! I have memories of being at home, with my father.”

  “Endrick put that in your head. You were with your real father those three years. You were with Darrow.”

  From my perspective on the bed, I saw her fingers begin to tremble. “Don’t say anything more,” she whispered.

  Gabe nodded at me. “Tell her, Simon.”

  I drew in a breath, and when she turned my way, I said, “Darrow spent those three years in your service, training you with weapons and horses and to fight. He was preparing you for the life he knew was coming. At the time, you thought he was a loyal servant. Less than two weeks ago, you learned he was your father.”

  Her voice wavered. “Was?”

  The next part was harder to say. “He was killed during a Dominion attack.”

  She looked from me over to Gabe, who nodded his agreement. But she closed her eyes, then said, “I remember being in a lava field and cutting my leg on some rock. My father—Sir Henry—found me and helped me back into a house.”

  “That was Darrow.”

  “No!” she shouted. “No, I see the memory in my mind, as if it happened only yesterday! Don’t tell me that the things I see, the things I feel and remember and know as well as my own name, are not true!”

  Silence fell heavy in the room until Gabe smiled sardonically. “You already tried to kill Simon. Must you yell at him too?”

  She drew in a couple of harsh breaths, then folded her arms and sat down again.

  I decided to try a different tactic. “After you and Gabe brought me back to our camp, I wasn’t always unconscious, even if I couldn’t respond. You went through my saddlebag.”

  “Yes.”

  “She stole your saddlebag,” Gabe said.

  “I didn’t!” she protested. “Gabe sent me away from the camp, and I was so upset, I didn’t realize I had it with me. But I returned it the next morning.”

  I smiled, glad to see the fire in her. Then asked, “Why did you return it?”

  She hesitated and pressed her mouth shut. She had her reasons but didn’t want to share them. Maybe not with Gabe here. Maybe not with me.

  “He’s getting tired again,” Gabe said. “We should let him sleep.”

  I hadn’t realized that my eyes were closed, but Gabe was right. I was exhausted.

  “Let me stay with him,” Kestra said. “If he needs anything, I’ll take care of it.”

  “I don’t trust you,” Gabe said.

  “But I do,” I mumbled. “Leave us alone, Gabe.”

  He stood, and I had no doubt that he’d check in on us several times during the night, but he did leave the room.

  Kestra started to say something to me about her necklace, but I fe
ll asleep without registering what her words had been. Which was too bad. They sounded important.

  Sometime during the night, I sat up straight, struggling to catch my breath and with tears streaming down my face.

  “It was only a dream,” I whispered in an attempt to comfort myself, but that didn’t work because I knew otherwise.

  In the dream, I was back in All Spirits Forest, drowning in the river again. A handsome man about twenty years older than me appeared and said help was coming. Then, suddenly, he was injured and pulled away by some unseen force. When I found him again, I promised to save his life. But before I could, he was caught in the explosion of a building.

  It was Darrow. I remembered Darrow.

  My father.

  A sob rose within my chest. In a single memory, I had found my father, loved him, and lost him again.

  I clamped a hand over my mouth, hoping to keep myself from crying out loud, but that choked me, and I soon heard Simon’s voice pierce the darkness.

  “Kes? Are you all right?”

  The lone candle in the room had burned out while I was asleep, and I was glad for it now. I steadied my voice the best I could and said, “I’m fine. Go back to sleep.”

  “You’re not. I can hear—”

  “I’m fine.”

  He said nothing more, but his hand reached out and found mine. He gave my fingers a squeeze and then kept his hand there, even after he fell asleep again. I brushed my thumb across his palm, slowly folding my hand in tighter with his.

  Meanwhile, I began working to recover every memory of Darrow I could, but for all my efforts, I retrieved nothing but a strong impression that he had loved me, something I realized I’d never felt from Sir Henry. Darrow’s current fate was the consequence of his being my father. I understood that too.

  Gabe had been correct earlier. Terrible things happened to people who were connected to me. And I had no idea how to make any of it stop.

  Simon stirred and I shifted over to sit at the side of his bed. If it was true, that he and I shared some sort of history, then I felt desperate for a single glimpse of it. Not only because of what it meant for us, but also because it would prove that Lord Endrick hadn’t saved me in that fall from the castle window.

  Maybe Lord Endrick had done to me what he had done to those who wandered All Spirits Forest, giving me enough memories to live in the world, but stealing away those that let me be part of it.

  A sound came from outside the room, footsteps near the door, and I quickly retreated to my seat. The last thing I needed was for Gabe to walk in and accuse me of attacking Simon again. Eventually, the footsteps faded and everything returned to quiet.

  I fell asleep with thoughts of Simon and Darrow, and questions of what I’d lost without even knowing it. Thankfully, it was a dreamless sleep. My mind couldn’t take any more than it already had to work through.

  Tillie woke me at dawn. She touched my arm and said, “You must be hungry, child.”

  I was, beyond my ability to describe it. I looked over at Simon’s bed, but he was no longer in it.

  “He got up an hour ago, said he was tired of being an invalid. He and Gabe are eating now, but I thought if I didn’t give you a chance at the food, there wouldn’t be any left.”

  I smiled and followed her into the small front room with a table full of biscuits, eggs, and bacon. Simon stood when he saw me, and reluctantly, so did Gabe. I understood Gabe’s anger. I’d nearly killed his best friend.

  Simon wasn’t entirely steady on his feet, and his eyes had dark circles beneath them. But he managed a smile and held out a seat for me while Tillie set down a plate of eggs and homemade sausage that I immediately began attacking. I’d had nothing to eat yesterday and very little the day before that.

  “You run a fine inn here,” I said between bites. “I can’t imagine you keep that many guests at any time.”

  The corners of Tillie’s mouth crinkled, pleased to see me enjoying her meal. “True, though there is always room for someone in need.”

  “I can’t pay you for this.”

  “Give her the necklace in payment,” Gabe muttered. “That has to be worth a lot.”

  It was worth my life, though he didn’t know that.

  “You can work off the payment instead.” Tillie’s brows furrowed as she evaluated what type of work I might be fit for. “I need chores done around this place, and Simon needs at least another day to recover.”

  I noted a rather serious look passing between her and Simon and wondered about that. There was something more she wasn’t saying, but I had a guess. Simon knew the Coracks were still searching for us. He had already asked if we could hide here for another day.

  “What can we do for you?” Gabe asked.

  Tillie started with him. “Winter is coming soon, and I need more meat in my stores. I noticed you have a rather fine disk bow—”

  “And when I return this evening, I will have more than you can eat in a year,” he said, rising to his feet.

  Another meaningful expression passed between him and Simon. Now I was getting irritated. Gabe was actually being sent out to keep watch on the area so he could warn us if he saw any sign of the Coracks. Maybe he’d return tonight with a successful hunt, maybe not. It wasn’t the purpose for him leaving. What were they hiding from me?

  Now Tillie turned to me. “I don’t suppose you’ve had much experience with housework.”

  “If not, then I can learn.”

  Tillie nodded in approval. “Simon can teach you. He used to be a servant boy, you know.”

  I recalled the dream from the other night with Lord Endrick and the ladybird beetle. Had he been the boy to rescue me?

  “Kes, are you all right?”

  I blinked and saw Simon staring back at me. I wondered how many times he’d called my name. I merely shook off his silent question and returned to my breakfast. Once I finished, Tillie took my dishes and said she would clean up inside while Simon and I gathered eggs in the yard.

  We did, though when Simon teased me for being startled by a hen, I threw an egg his way, barely missing him. After we came back inside, that chore was followed by Tillie’s request for us to sweep the day’s dust from the floor. I must have been doing it wrong, because Simon wrapped his arms around me to demonstrate the proper sweeping motions. I didn’t need the lesson—I would’ve figured it out, but I didn’t mind his arms where they were. At one point, I looked back to ask him a question, which put my face directly in front of his. After a moment in which neither of us moved, he smiled and said, “Share your thoughts and I’ll share mine.”

  “I already know your thoughts,” I teased, pushing back from him. Pushing back, because I knew my thoughts as well.

  Tillie poked her head in. “If you’re finished, I have some bread dough to knead.”

  Simon followed me into the kitchen, where a large lump of dough was on the table. He folded his hands into the dough, pushing and rolling it together.

  “Like this?” I asked, joining him.

  “It’s hard to do it wrong.”

  “Are you sure?” I grinned mischievously. “Some of it didn’t get mixed in at all.”

  He looked around. “Where?”

  I tapped his nose with some flour. “There!”

  He laughed and grabbed a larger pinch of flour and blew it into my face. “No worries, I fixed it!”

  Accepting his challenge, I reached for the entire jar of flour, perfectly willing to sweep for the rest of the day just to have the last laugh now. But he grabbed one end of the jar and pulled on it. I didn’t let go, so his tug threw me off balance toward him. I might have stumbled, but his arm went around my waist, steadying me. Holding me. And suddenly, there we were like before, except this time it wasn’t a broom between us, but a jar of flour. And this time, there was no question what either of us was thinking.

  Hours seemed to pass as we stood there, though it must have only been seconds. He was probably nervous, worried that if he moved too quickly,
I’d run. Maybe I would. Maybe I should.

  But running would never answer the question of whether these emotions surging through me were real. I had to know. I wanted to know, though it terrified me more than I could ever explain aloud.

  If the rush of excited nervousness I felt at being near Simon, the tug to draw even closer, the growing sense of caring for him—if all these feelings were real, then every other facet of my life was a lie.

  If so, then I didn’t even know who I was.

  I couldn’t allow this to be real.

  I released the jar, forced a smile to my face, then dipped my fingers into the jar and flung the powder at him. He laughed and released me, commenting on what a mess we’d made.

  A mess? Yes, that described the swirl of thoughts inside my head with perfect accuracy.

  Whatever I felt for Simon, I couldn’t seem to hold on to one single, coherent thought, because there was no single thought where he was concerned. He frustrated me, intrigued me, and was constantly on my mind. Did I hate him or like him? … Could I have loved him once? It frightened me to get closer to him, but I spent our moments apart wondering what it must be like in his arms. Yet some part of me had already tried to kill him.

  He was staring at me again, smiling. I stared back, trying to focus on the question at the forefront of my thoughts. What if I let him kiss me?

  Would it prompt a return of memories? And if it did, how would I react?

  Would Endrick know? Would he consider it disloyalty?

  I just couldn’t take the risk.

  Tillie walked in at that moment, hands on her hips. “Enough of this, you two! I’ll finish the bread. Go fetch me some water. Simon, I hope you can get to the well without creating another disaster.”

  He winked at me. “For the record, she started it.”

  “Then I like her even more.” Tillie shoved a couple of buckets into his hands and shooed us out the back door.

  “Tillie is wonderful,” I said as we walked. “How can she be happy, all by herself here, when she is of no value to the Dominion?”

  “She’s happy because she has no value to the Dominion,” he said. “And she’s not alone. She has a daughter who recently joined the Coracks in the western part of Antora. I come to visit when I can, as do many friends she’s made over the years.” Simon shifted both buckets to one hand, then offered his other hand to me. “It’s a steep slope down to the well. Let me help you.”