“They know we don’t belong,” he hissed as he sheathed his knives and started to strut like the chicken lady. “Try to blend in.”
Claire’s eyes went wide as she looked from me to Silas. “What does he expect us to do? Act crazy?” Silas and I shared a look. Claire’s lips parted in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”
I scratched my cheek. “It’s not a bad idea.”
Claire huffed but started jumping up and down, saying, “Hi!” to everyone. Silas spun around and walked backwards while I hopped on the ground like a frog.
“This is ridiculous,” Silas murmured as we moved along.
Keeping my distance from a lady talking to a tree, I glanced around to find James. I hoped these odd people hadn’t done something to him.
A few men and women stood around a well in the center of the village. They hastily waved their hands as they spoke, engrossed in their conversation. But as we drew near, I heard not one conversation, but several with the same lines being repeated.
“Nice weather we’re having. Nice weather we’re having. Nice weather we’re having.”
“And she had six eggs. Six! And she had six eggs. Six! And she had six eggs. Six!”
“I don’t know. He doesn’t seem like good folk. I don’t know. He doesn’t seem like good folk. I don’t know. He doesn’t seem like good folk.”
Silas grabbed my wrist, pulling me up before leading me in a far circle around the people; the others were not far behind.
“Addie, this place is really creeping me out.” He monitored each person of the village. “Any idea where the Magister would be?”
Reaching into my satchel, I grasped the book once more, hoping for a new destination. But as I opened the cover, the same map laid flat before me.
“It hasn’t drawn anything different,” I said, rifling through the pages. “Just the same map.”
The warm breeze blew by again, pushing my hair in my face. As I tucked it around my ear, I paused. The chattering and clucking had vanished, but the silence spoke volumes. An uneasy sensation crept up my neck, and I forced my gaze up. With unnaturally round eyes and gaping mouths, the villagers had surrounded us.
Chapter 22
"I told you to blend in," Damien scolded, slowly moving until he stood next to Claire, knives grasped in each hand.
“Are they going to eat us?” Claire whispered, backing up behind Damien.
White foam bubbled from the townspeople’s lips, pouring out of their mouths, and sizzling once it reached the ground.
“It’s as if they’ve lost their sanity. Addie,” Silas said out of the corner of his mouth. “Ideas?”
Before I could think, the people charged. All I had time to yell was, “Run!”
We set off in different directions. Snarls and growls erupted from the rabid people as they split and chased after us. Panic clawed my throat when I barely escaped the grasp of the “Welcome!” man. Damien ran by with ferocity, trying to lose the chicken woman, and Silas and Claire were fending off the people from the well.
“Help!” Claire cried, using her satchel to whack the man who had been talking about eggs.
“We don’t want to hurt them,” Silas said, untying his sheathed sword from his belt and using it to push back the howling children nipping at his heels. “They probably aren’t aware of what’s happening.”
Claire smacked the egg man in the face with her bag, and he spun to the ground. “I’ll hurt him if he tries to bite me again.”
“Claire, look out!” Damien cried as the chicken lady launched herself at Claire.
Claire’s high-pitched shriek pierced the air before Damien interceded. The chicken lady clamped down on his forearm, foam bubbling from her lips as she sank her teeth into Damien’s forearm.
“Get off of him!” I yelled.
The village people had surrounded my friends. I had to do something. I sprinted to the well, when a hand grabbed my own, yanking me into one of the cottages.
I screamed as the door slammed behind me. I didn’t want one of those things to bite me. Spinning around, I held up my fists, ready to attack whatever lunatic had grabbed me. But the familiar face of James greeted me.
“James,” I breathed.
“I think I know where the Magister is,” James said, searching around the cottage. The wooden floor was scattered with yellow, gray, and white papers. But that didn't distract me from the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that lined the walls. Each book was perfectly intact and arranged by color. In front of them was a rainbow of plush chairs.
“Where? We don’t even know where we are.”
“We’re in Valde,” James replied. “Asenav should be around here somewhere.”
Before I could reply, a crash came from upstairs. James grabbed my hand, pulling me back against the door as he stood in front of me. Slow, even steps padded down the wooden stairwell as elegant golden slippers came into view.
Holding my breath, I gazed at a woman cloaked in a dark-blue robe lined with golden leaves. Her hair was wild with blonde curls bouncing around her head like a halo. Although her pupils were large, there was no foam falling from her lips. Yet.
“Dimitte,” she said cheerily with an elegant smile. “What are you doing here?”
James took a step forward. “Asenav,” he breathed with relief. “We need your help.”
The Magister furrowed her thin brows, then replied, “Dimitte, what are you doing here?”
The same eerie feeling crept up my spine as cold sweat dripped down my temple.
The Magister’s face contorted in pain. “Dimitte, what are yo—” She let out a scream, bending forward, and I jumped back. Panting, she glanced up, her face in pain. “The doors. Destroy the doors.” She screamed again before she snapped straight. The cheery look came back to her face as she said, “Dimitte, what are you doing here?”
An aura from the upper level of the cottage tugged at my heart. Cautiously, I followed the pull and crept to the stairs, aware of Asenav watching me. Her pupils dilated before returning to normal size.
“The ticking. It won’t stop,” she said in a panicked voice. She took a step toward me. “Don’t you hear it? Don’t you hear the ticking?” She placed her palms on her temples, folding forward once more. “Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.” She focused on me, with tears in her dark-blue eyes. “Make it stop. Please, make it stop.”
I took a step back, my thoughts reeling at her words. The strength and pain of the clock in my head was merciless. I hated that someone else was suffering from it, too.
“I will,” I replied, trying not to worry about whether the ticking would make me turn rabid, too.
I took another step, and Asenav’s stance turned predator, her wide eyes focused on me. Her pupils dilated again, and foam trickled out of her mouth.
“Addie,” James said slowly, white light forming on his palms. “Run.”
Without hesitating, I raced up the stairs, the snarls of Asenav roaring behind me. Reaching the top step, I paused as a harsh pain jolted through my heart. I slammed into the wall. Groaning, I struggled against the heavy pressure weighing me down, my back creaking as if it would snap. Finally, I collapsed to my knees, my head throbbing.
Straining to open my eyes, I saw a flash of red and hissed. It was those doors. Again. Another jolt seared my heart. I thrashed about, desperate to make the pain stop. A crash thundered from downstairs, warning me I was losing time.
Digging my nails into the palms of my hand, I dug into the satchel, grasping the book, my only hope. But as I opened the pages, I found them blank.
"Addie!" James yelled up the stairs as quick, efficient footsteps bounced upon the wood.
As I glanced over my shoulder, I gasped. Asenav towered above me, her beautiful face contorted into a snarl. In one hand, she brandished a deadly mace. Foam bubbled around her mouth as she growled.
There was no escape. I dragged my body upright, trapped between the madwoman and the doors. Then, the ticking returned.
Asenav l
unged at me. Hurling my body to the right, I barely avoided losing my head. Of course, with the horrible throbbing from the ticking, part of me wished for anything to stop the pain.
The doors screeched open, the force of the shockwave driving both of us to the floorboards. Asenav writhed, screaming like a mindless animal. Crawling away from her, I fought to think straight.
This was just like the morb. An illness, probably from the doors. This couldn’t be Asenav, not the real Asenav. As she threw back her head and howled, I felt sick. It was as if she had lost sight of who she was, losing all sanity.
‘Lost their sanity,’ I thought, remembering what Silas had said. But what would make her remember who she was?
From downstairs, I could hear James struggling. More of the rabid must have invaded the home. I coughed and pulled myself back to my feet. If I didn’t do something soon, I could lose James and the others.
Just like I almost lost Lyle.
Lyle. Rubbing my fingers across the loose threads of the sleeves, I glanced at the sweater. Seeing Asenav so helpless, so weak, was just like witnessing Lyle losing all his memories. Losing his sanity.
Then, it hit me. Memories. Memories were the threads that stitched our lives together. That connected us to each other. And, as memories unraveled, so did the very fabric of our minds.
I studied the sleeves. Lyle's sweater had been with me through so much: loneliness, fear, heartbreak. But it always reminded me of why I was suffering: to bring back what I had lost.
My heart let out an assured beat, much louder than the ticking.
My memories would save Asenav. Just like my memories tied to the sweater had saved me and kept me going. But what was I meant to do with Lyle's sweater?
Bellata, a soothing female voice entered my thoughts. Can you hear me?
I turned, trying to concentrate despite the continuous waves of pain.
I know this is hard to believe, but I'm right over there. The thought guided me toward Asenav, who was howling and foaming on the ground.
Confusion and shock entered my thoughts, and the voice chuckled. Yes, not the best first impression, I know. But hear me, Bellata. I had a moment of weakness while trying to discover how to destroy the doors. I had lost my faith in Eman, thus losing my identity and my purpose. The foul Beast knew I was weak, and before I could vanquish these doors, he struck me rabid.
I tried to nod but instead coiled into a ball as the ticking rose in volume. Still, Asenav’s voice echoed, clearing the storms in my skull.
But I did find what is needed to destroy the doors. Someone must sacrifice a most precious memory. If you are to save us, you must make that sacrifice.
What? I replied, finally able to think clearly enough to respond.
Your sweater, you said it was what helped you remember your purpose in Ophidian's Realm, did you not? she asked, matter-of-factly.
Yes, but how did—
Details for later, she waved a thought-spoken hand in my mind.
I can't, I replied, struggling against the pain waves. Why should I have to give up Lyle? It doesn’t make sense. He’s all I have.
Then we are all lost, her gentle voice replied.
The presence of Asenav's voice receded from my mind. The moment it vanished, rabid Asenav's attention locked on me. Fighting against her thrashing limbs, she reached for her mace and began crawling in my direction with a murderous gleam in her eyes.
Scrambling backwards, I searched for something to defend myself. Was sacrificing Lyle's sweater really the only way?
Splinters of wood spewed around me as the mace landed inches from my face. Pulse racing, I realized I had no other choice.
Rolling toward the doors, I sat up and yanked off Lyle's sweater, the protection of it vanishing from my being.
A plank of wood flew through the air, knocking me back down. Asenav had quite the arm for a scholar.
I balled Lyle's sweater under my arm and dragged my body to the doors. Their blood-red wood pulsated with power as they opened simultaneously, releasing wave after wave of pain, like a violent wind. It poisoned the minds of everyone in this land.
It wasn't fair that I had to give up Lyle's sweater, but it also wasn't fair for these people to be tormented by Ophidian. I clutched the sweater to my chest. The soft, worn fibers brushed against my skin as I remembered him wearing it one last time.
"Thank you," I said, tears welling up in my eyes as I threw it through the closing doors.
The snap of the seal resonated throughout the room, which drew eerily silent. I waited, stifling my sobs, hoping my sacrifice wasn't wasted, when the doors exploded, knocking everything away. I lay stunned for several seconds.
The ticking stopped.
With a few heavy breaths, I uncurled myself, wiping the tears from my cheeks. Sitting up, I couldn’t believe what I saw. There, resting between two mounds of red dust, lay a single golden leaf.
Chapter 23
We all packed tightly together in Asenav’s reading room. But even with so many bodies close together, I felt cold and naked without Lyle’s sweater. What mattered was that my friends were safe, and the Magister was back in her right mind. But without the sword and now the sweater, I couldn’t help but realize just how defenseless I really was.
I rubbed my hands over my thin, long-sleeved shirt, hoping Lyle would forgive me for sacrificing his sweater. I sent a prayer to the Heavens, hoping he was still safe in Ramni.
“If everyone would’ve listened to me, this wouldn’t have happened,” Damien spat as he clutched his bloodied wrist where the chicken lady had bitten him.
“Let me see,” Asenav said, reaching her petite hand out to the lord.
He quickly snatched his wrist away with a growl. “I’ve already had enough encounters with magical blonde-haired women, thanks.”
“Damien,” I hissed, giving Asenav an apologetic look.
“Damien?” Silas questioned with a frown, casting a glance between Damien and me.
Asenav clasped her hands in front of her, giving Damien a gentle smile. “There’s no need to fear, but I will help the others first.”
Asenav quickly passed out bandages and a healing salve to patch up the cuts and scrapes the others had received from their encounters with the townspeople. Thankfully, no one other than Damien had been severely injured.
“Now,” Asenav said, standing before Damien once more. She fluffed her wild blonde curls before giving him an expectant look. He let out a frustrated sigh and reluctantly held out his wrist to her. She grinned. "Try not to move. This will sting quite a bit.”
Damien winced, then gritted his teeth as Asenav took hold of his arm.
Asenav closed her eyes as she titled her head back. A swirling glow lined her hands. A small trickle of white light escaped from her fingertips and slid across the oozing red cut on Damien’s arm. He curled his fingers before relaxing them. Asenav guided him to a plush purple chair in the corner of the room where the light continued to swirl around his arm. We all gathered around with curiosity.
“What happened to him?” Claire asked as she sat next to him. She leaned toward the cut on his arm, her lips downturned.
Asenav went to her shelves and pulled out a green book. Standing behind Claire, she opened the text and pointed down to one of the pages before handing it over. “He was bitten by one of the rabid. Luckily, because of the Bellata, my people are rabid no more. But if bitten by one, it is deadly.”
“That would’ve been nice to know earlier,” Damien said, his words beginning to slur.
“Shh,” Asenav said, placing her hand on his forehead. Damien’s lids fluttered closed, and he slumped into the chair, asleep.
Claire grasped the book and read the print, her brows furrowing as she turned to the next page.
“He has the worst luck,” Silas said, shaking his head.
Asenav turned her scrutinizing gaze on him. Silas stiffened as the Magister analyzed him thoroughly.
“Interesting,” she said, focusing on
me, then Silas again. “Very interesting.”
“He’s also not protected,” James added, securing a bandage around his knee.
Claire glanced up from the book. “Not protected by what?”
James placed a hand over his chest. “Eman. When Eman mends your heart, you’re sealed with his mark, protected from evil. Things can still happen to you, but you won’t be severely affected by them.”
Claire laid the book flat on her lap and placed a hand on her own chest. “But I’m not protected by Eman. Addie placed her heart in me.”
“Yes,” James nodded. “Addie's heart can protect you from minor things, but I do worry about the Lands we’ll encounter next.”
Claire turned back to Damien while I waited, curious for further explanation, but James didn’t continue. Instead, he hobbled toward Asenav, who had begun organizing the yellow papers that had been scattered on the ground.
“It’s so good to see you again, Dimitte.” Asenav beamed as she neatly stacked the papers and laid them on a nearby table before grabbing his hands. “I thought for sure we had lost you to the darkness.”
“Don’t worry, Asenav, I’m here to stay,” James said, patting her hands before slowly kneeling to pick up more papers.
“Oh, don’t worry about those,” the Magister said. She swept her hand in the air, and the papers quickly floated before filing themselves into the floor-to-ceiling bookcases lining the back wall.
Asenav ran her thin fingers along the color-coordinated book spines, then directed her attention to me. “How have you come to make this young lady’s acquaintance, Dimitte?” Her dark-blue eyes scanned me up and down like I was an ancient document being analyzed for the first time.
James chuckled. “Asenav, you and I both know you already know."
She flicked a hand at him. “Oh, humor me."
James shuffled to a bright-orange chair and motioned to me with a grin. "This is my granddaughter.”
Asenav clasped her hands to her chest and gasped in playful surprise. “Your granddaughter is the Bellata? How fascinating!”
Heartbreaker Page 17