The Deceiver's Heart

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The Deceiver's Heart Page 21

by Jennifer A. Nielsen


  Loelle acknowledged that with a brief nod, then asked, “How sure are you that Darrow is in All Spirits Forest?”

  My vision blurred through my tears. “I’m sure. Shortly before Endrick took my memories, he told me that Darrow received an eternal punishment.” I shook my head. “Gabe once told me that bad things happen to people who are around me. I think it’s true.”

  “Nonsense.” She gave my hand a brief squeeze. “Find your magic and stop Lord Endrick from cursing any others to the same fate. Time is of the essence. Open battles have begun in the south, involving people we both care for very much. You may be their sole hope.”

  Her implication was clear, that if I failed here, the Coracks would fail there. Whatever weight was already lain on my shoulders, she had just doubled it.

  Loelle stood to leave, and I asked, “Why don’t you trust Wynnow?”

  “I don’t trust any Brillians, and nor should you. But—” Loelle added with a smile. “They don’t trust you or me either. Because for all we lack, we have the one thing they most desire. We have magic.”

  Near the border of Reddengrad, we finally admitted that we needed to stop and rest for the night. Harlyn shared the food she had brought, though I ate only because I knew I had to. For most of that time, I had my eye on Trina, thinking of Harlyn’s statement that it had not been her who told the Halderians that Kestra was in Lonetree Camp.

  I supposed it could have been anyone—we had hundreds of Coracks in that camp, many who were also from the Halderian clan. I’d been too hasty in accusing Trina, which meant I owed her an enormous apology. After all I’d said and the petty way I’d behaved, I’d rather have cuddled up to a snake, but this had to be done.

  So when Trina got up to do a sweep of the area to ensure we were safe for the night, I offered to go with her. She looked at me, clearly surprised, but when our eyes met, she nodded her permission for me to come.

  Once we were alone, she said, “I thought you weren’t speaking to me.”

  “I wasn’t, which proves what a great fool I can be. I’m sorry, Trina. Harlyn told me that it wasn’t you who contacted the Halderians.”

  I’d already prepared myself for any cruel response. If she boasted that she’d told me so, demanded that I apologize on my knees, or refused outright to accept my apology, I deserved all of it.

  But she only bumped against my side as we walked and said, “You’ve fallen so hard for Kestra that she’s turned you senseless. You know that, I hope?”

  I chuckled lightly. “Yes, I know that.”

  “These past couple of days, I really wondered if you were. The night we found you at Rutherhouse, had you just buried—”

  “Yes.” I didn’t want her to finish the sentence, didn’t want to hear my mother’s name.

  The silence between us only grew heavier when Trina asked, “Was Kestra involved?”

  I shrugged, finding it impossible to explain the clash of emotions inside me whenever I thought about Kestra. What happened that night wasn’t her fault … yet it was, maybe almost as much as it was mine. I felt awful for being angry with her, and angry with myself for not having been part of Kestra’s rescue from that Dominion camp afterward. If I’d gone, maybe her necklace wouldn’t have been lost, maybe I could have kept her from the Blue Caves. Maybe I could have held us together, with some chance for a future.

  Trina took my arm and gave it a comforting squeeze. “If it helps, I don’t entirely hate Kestra anymore. I think she really believes in our cause, that she isn’t doing this just because she used to care for you.”

  Used to. I clenched my jaw and tried to focus only on putting one foot in front of the other. Trina probably didn’t realize how those two words pierced me.

  Or how much worse it was when she added, “You’ll be angry when I say this, but you’ve got to hear it, so remember that I just forgave you for being horrible to me.”

  I stopped walking, barely daring to ask. “What is it?”

  “When you become king, they’ll expect you to choose a Halderian as a wife, someone who connects you to their clan. Perhaps someone with a prominent father.”

  “Harlyn?” An uncomfortable few seconds passed while Trina waited for me to say something more. Finally, I asked, “Do you think there’s any chance Kestra and I could still—”

  “I doubt you’ll ever accept her with magic. And she’ll never accept you as king of the clan that’s caused her such extensive harm.”

  I waved that away. “That much won’t be a problem. I haven’t changed my mind.”

  Something about that gave her a half-smile, but in the face of my solemn expression, she merely said, “I’ve never known anyone who works harder at fighting the inevitable. You cannot hold back the tide forever.”

  Deep inside, I knew she was right, and not only about whether I might eventually have to claim the throne, but about whether I had to let Kestra go. That also seemed inevitable now. I held out an arm for Trina. “Let’s go, or Harlyn may become jealous.”

  She laughed again, though once we returned to camp, we became far more serious. Basil had drawn a rough map of Reddengrad into the dirt, and he and Harlyn were discussing strategy.

  We were currently camped on the north side of the wide Mistriver, which marked the boundary between Reddengrad and Antora. Immediately after crossing, we’d have a half day’s ride through a pass between steep mountain ranges. If we turned east, the pass would lead us to a forest encompassing King’s Lake, which Basil represented on his map with a large leaf. The capital, Lynsk, was in the west, marked with a small rock.

  We gathered around the map. A little moonlight helped us to see in the gathering dark, though we still needed to press in close as Basil explained the plans.

  “The Dominion army is probably two or three hours ahead of us. That will put them in position to attack Lynsk early in the morning. But my father will have the bulk of his forces waiting for them. If we come in from behind, they’ll be trapped.”

  “All four of us?” I snorted. “That’s not a plan; it’s a death wish.”

  Basil considered that a moment, then asked, “What do you propose?”

  I used another stick to draw a line eastward. “Draw the enemy away from your capital.” I pointed to the area around King’s Lake. “What’s out there?”

  “The Nesting Woods. In most ways, they would be perfect, but—” Basil’s eyes widened. “No, we should not fight from there.”

  “Why not?”

  “Do you remember I told you about the Rawkyren?” Seeing blank expressions on our faces, Basil added, “I assumed everyone knew. The Rawkyren is a particularly fierce breed of dragon—”

  “Dragons don’t exist,” Harlyn said flatly.

  Basil blinked twice at her before continuing. “We had thought so too, until seventy years ago when one was discovered deep within the Nesting Woods, a female. Rawkyren start out small but they eventually grow to a wingspan three times the size of Endrick’s condors. Their scales are reflective so they blend in with their environment, and they are deadly.”

  Harlyn shivered. “You’re right. We’re not going to the Nesting Woods.”

  “My grandfather killed the Rawkyren he found and another one has never been seen,” Basil said. “A canopy track was built overhead for travel through the woods so that people wouldn’t accidentally disturb a sleeping dragon, but no one goes there anyway.”

  “If a dragon hasn’t been seen in seventy years, then the Rawkyren are probably extinct.” Trina spoke with conviction, though I wondered if the only reason one had not been found was because the woods had been abandoned. She added, “Can we mount a defense there?”

  Basil nodded. “The canopy is too thick for their condors to pass through and the undergrowth may trip up their oropods.” His eyes suddenly lit with excitement. “Maybe we should go there! My grandfather stocked the tracks with pole weapons, so that if another Rawkyren was ever discovered, we’d be ready for it.” He drew in a sharp, excited gasp. “I need
to leave.” With that, he stood and hurried toward his horse.

  “Where?” Trina asked. “Now?”

  “I know a secret way in to Lynsk. I must speak with my father, tonight.”

  “Someone should go with you.” Trina gave me a sympathetic smile, knowing this meant we’d have to pair off, and there was only one logical way to divide. “How about I do?”

  “Thank you.” Basil shifted an eye from Harlyn to me, and warned, “If we can’t stop the Dominion at our border, then we’ll meet you at the woods tomorrow.”

  “Stay safe,” I said, and nodded when Trina wished us the same.

  After we bid farewell to Trina and Basil, Harlyn sat back down on the log where she’d been before, so reluctantly, I did too. After the embrace Harlyn and I had shared in Nessel, I knew something lingered between us, something that was making my heart race now. If she felt it too, this would be an uncomfortable night.

  After drawing in the dirt for a moment with a stick, Harlyn said, “May I ask you a question?”

  I tilted my head, already suspicious, then decided I wouldn’t be able to avoid conversation with her for the entire evening. “Go ahead.”

  “Do you know why my father took command of the Halderians?”

  I shrugged, but I was genuinely curious. Almost since the end of the war, the Halderians had been led by a man I knew only as Thorne, who had spent most of those years trying to prove to his people, and to Kestra herself, that she was meant to become the Infidante. He had finally succeeded, but it had apparently cost him his life.

  “The night the Infidante was chosen, we had tremendous hope for her. But by morning, Kestra Dallisor was gone. She gave us no explanation of her plans. She made no effort to get us on her side.”

  “To be fair,” I said, “the Halderians have never been Kestra’s friends in the past.”

  “Which was why she needed to stay and help us understand her! After she left, the Halderians broke out in fighting amongst ourselves, some of us wanting to give her a chance, others who claimed that she had taken the sword back as a gift to Endrick, her king.”

  “That was never true, Harlyn.”

  “I know. Haven’t I already proved to be on her side? But the truth didn’t matter, only what people believed. Finally, my father challenged Thorne for leadership over our people, not because he wanted the power, but because Thorne couldn’t control the fighting.”

  “Your father was part of the fighting!”

  “My father agreed to follow the voice of the people. The head of every house was invited to a meeting to give their opinion. The decision was overwhelming: Kestra Dallisor cannot be our Infidante. The Halderians want her replaced.”

  I glared back at her. “Then the Halderians voted for her death.”

  “Yes.” But she quickly added, “There is a reason I’m telling you this. It’s because I know who you are … Your Grace.”

  My glare darkened. “How?”

  She blushed, as if we were flirting rather than on the verge of a shouting match. “I admit that on the night the Infidante was chosen, you caught my eye. And after Gerald escaped from Woodcourt, he came back to Nessel. I knew you’d been there with him, so I asked about you. It took some persuasion, but he finally told me.”

  “Uh-huh. And who else knows?”

  She shrugged. “Nobody, as far as I can tell. I figured since you haven’t claimed the throne that maybe you have reasons not to, but I think you should reconsider, for her sake. You can’t force the people to accept Kestra Dallisor, but as king, you might be able to protect her from us.”

  I stared at her, then reached for my bedroll. “Good night, Harlyn.”

  She grabbed my arm first and scooted toward me until our knees were touching. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  I’d told her almost nothing of my feelings for Kestra—whatever they were now—or of my plans for the future. I certainly wouldn’t admit that having her so close shrouded my mind in a constant fog.

  After I failed to answer, she leaned forward, keeping her eyes on me the entire time, and pausing briefly when her face was directly in front of mine. Then she smiled, grabbed my bedroll, and thrust it into my hands. “I’ll keep first watch,” she said, fully aware that for a moment, I had stopped breathing.

  I stood and lay on the bedroll, but even as I rolled away from her, I felt the weight of her eyes on me. Maybe she didn’t know what first watch meant.

  However, that wasn’t why I felt unable to sleep. It was becoming increasingly clear that in the end, I might be forced into claiming the title of king. Not for the Halderians, and certainly not for myself, but because Kestra would need me there.

  She would obtain her magic, thinking it would save me, but it would corrupt her. I would claim the throne, hoping to save her, and no doubt it would corrupt me too.

  And Harlyn was probably still watching me, having made it perfectly clear that when my heart was open to other possibilities, she would be there waiting.

  If any relationship remained between Kestra and me, Harlyn threatened to corrupt that too.

  Harlyn was already awake when my eyes opened the next morning. I’d taken the second watch, but she insisted on a third, claiming that she rarely slept much anyway. She was tending to our small fire now, and whatever she was cooking smelled delicious. When she noticed me, she said, “There’s some hot tea and biscuits, if you’re interested.”

  I definitely was, and by the time I got there, she had poured a mug for me and had three firecake biscuits ready. I thanked her, though when she smiled back, I quickly looked away. I’d spent half the night thinking about my conversation with Trina, and the other half thinking of everything Harlyn had said. If I’d slept at all, then Kestra was in those dreams. I’d watched as she faded away from me, like mist in the sunlight.

  By the time I finished eating, Harlyn had packed up most of our camp, including tethering my horse to the other animals already pulling her wagon. “We should leave soon. Who knows how much time we’ll have?”

  “Probably not much.” I did a quick check of my satchel to be sure everything was still in there. My eyes rested on my sketchbook as a wave of sadness washed over me. I doubted I’d ever draw in it again. Hoping to distract myself, I asked Harlyn, “Have you been to the Nesting Woods before? Do you know anything about them?”

  “Nothing beyond what Basil told us last night.” She drew a deep breath and looked at me. “My father won’t be happy that you changed his orders. He doesn’t see the point of defending Reddengrad.”

  “He should. Because if the Dominion—”

  She laughed, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Simon, I understand it. I agree with you, and when he joins us, I will tell him so. But I thought I should warn you that he’ll be angry.” Now she patted my arm before walking away, sending echoes into my heart, awakening what I thought had died in me. “It would be easier if you’d claim the throne now.”

  I said nothing to that and instead simply climbed onto the bench of the wagon. She joined me but rode us away at a fast clip that, thankfully, made conversation difficult. I rather wished it had been impossible.

  We traveled that way for most of the day, taking breaks only when necessary. When we had to talk, I spoke only about the coming battle. How many Halderians did she expect would fight? What were their skills? Halderians were far more experienced on horseback than on foot—could they compensate if the thick forest was too dense for horses?

  Harlyn answered every question precisely and confidently, making it clear why her father relied on her as much as he did. I’d have to rely on her too when the battle came.

  By late afternoon, we saw a thick forested area cresting on the horizon. The Nesting Woods.

  Harlyn stopped the wagon so we could get a better look from a distance. “At a good pace, I think we could arrive in another hour or two.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  “First we have to talk.”

  I took a deep breath and clenched my jaw. “W
e’ll lose our light soon. Can this wait?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  I knew what conversation was coming. The unspoken words between us had been the invisible third member of our party throughout the journey, and if it were up to me, they would remain that way. Reluctantly, I turned to face her and despite my bristling irritation, I couldn’t help but smile. Her cheeks and nose were windburned, and her hair was tousled, but she finger-combed the curls back with one hand and gave a shy grin. Harlyn was anything but shy.

  She said, “This is about us.”

  I bumped a fist against my thigh. “There is no us.”

  “But there could be. I’m not a subtle person, Simon, that should be obvious by now. I like you. And while I relish the idea of a long courtship in which I convince you to like me too, the fact is that we might not even survive the rest of this day.”

  “And?”

  “And my father is sick, though he hides it well. He will not be around to command the Halderians much longer. His replacement will be a disgusting, scaly man who escaped torture years ago at the hands of Kestra’s father.” She took a deep breath, then added, “This man offered to marry me in exchange for my father naming him as the next commander of the Halderians. He has a specific grudge against Kestra, because of her father. He cannot be allowed anywhere near the throne.”

  My eyes darted away, looking at anything but her. “Do you want me to take the throne for Kestra’s sake or for yours?”

  “I want you to take the throne. When you do, if I’m at your side, everyone wins. The Infidante will be protected. The Halderians get a just king, and a wonderful queen, trust me on that. Instead of a scaly old man, I get you. And instead of an empty seat at your side …” She took my hand. “There’s me.” Her eyes bored into mine and a rush of heat flooded through my chest. “We could be a good match, and I think you know it. That’s why you’ve been so nervous around me.”

  I didn’t answer. Nor did I release her hand. Instead, I froze as a debate raged within me. My heart wanted Kestra at my side, only her, and it begged me to ignore the logic and reason of Harlyn’s plan. Begged me to believe in a dream.

 

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