Heartgem Homestead

by Edmund Hughes

  Vrodas grinned.

  “You misunderstand me,” he said, raising his stump arm. “My tribe would think the same of my movements, if they ever journeyed from their island to see them in person.”

  He raised his mug, and Hal clinked his against it in cheers. Vrodas drained his and set it down hard on the bar, standing and clapping Hal on the back.

  “Keep training your steps, Halrin,” he said, as he walked away.

  Hal sipped at his own ale for another minute before realizing that Laurel was nowhere to be seen in the barroom. He frowned. Several other people had already turned in for the night, including the fellow he’d seen her speaking to when he first arrived back at the inn.

  She has a life here. It’s no business of mine what she decides to do tonight, or with whom.

  Still, Hal needed to at least confirm that she was safe. He stood up from the bar and headed outside into the night.

  He spotted Laurel almost immediately, sitting on a wooden bench near the well, down the street. She waved to him as he started walking over.

  “Sorry!” she shouted, in a voice louder than appropriate for the time of night. “I just needed some fresh air. It gets stuffy in the inn as the night wears on.”

  “True,” he said. “I think that’s a constant between all taverns and inns.”

  He sat down next to her, glancing up at the stars overhead. They looked so much like the ones he’d looked up at back on his family’s estate, except even brighter.

  “You didn’t tell me you could dance,” she said. “I feel so cheated! I would have made you do some of it last night, if I’d have known.”

  “I was still recovering from my injuries last night,” said Hal. “I doubt I would have been in the mood.”

  Laurel didn’t reply to that immediately. She had her mug with her. Hal reached over and gently lifted it from her hands. He took a sip and passed it back.

  “This is the happiest night the inn has had in… I don’t even know how long,” she said. “You really got the local crowd excited.”

  Hal nodded. There was something bugging him about the town, and her admission helped him figure out what it was.

  “Almost everyone I saw out in town today was in the inn tonight,” said Hal. “Except for Cadrian.”

  “Yup,” said Laurel. A tiny hiccup escaped her lips, and she clamped a hand over her mouth.

  “So…” said Hal. “Why haven’t I seen any children here in Lorne? You’d think that there would be at least a couple. Most small-town folk where I’m from are constantly pumping out offspring to one day take their place.”

  “Lorne… isn’t that kind of town,” said Laurel.

  Hal waited for a moment before asking the obvious question.

  “What kind of town is it?”

  Laurel looked at him. Underneath her drunken exterior, Hal could see a deep, raw pain. Her blue eyes twinkled in the starlight, looking as though they were on the verge of filling with tears even as she flashed a dimpled smile at him.

  “It’s a town of exiles,” she said. “Nobody is here by choice, Hal. This is where the people who end up on Maxim Cedric’s bad side end up. Or those who run afoul with the High Lords, the leaders of the other Great Houses, or manage to offend the Keeper.”

  Hal frowned, thinking about what she was saying.

  “Is that what you meant when you talked about how you ended up in the Fool’s Valley with your brother?” he asked.

  He immediately regretted his question when he saw pain flicker across Laurel’s expression. Thinking about her missing brother was likely the last thing she wanted to do at night, filled with ale and good cheer.

  “Fool’s Valley is a step below even Lorne,” said Laurel. “There’s a reason why this town is here in the desert and not in the valley, where the folks could at least plant crops beyond cacti. Being sent to Fool’s Valley… is basically a death sentence, if someone stays there for long enough.”

  Hal reached over and took her hand. He gave it a small squeeze, listening as she hiccupped again and then sniffled.

  “It won’t be a death sentence,” he said, keeping his voice calm. “Not for you, Laurel. I promise.”

  She didn’t reply. Hal felt bad about ruining her mood with his questions, but couldn’t think of how to shift the conversation back into lighter territory.

  “I’m tired,” said Laurel. “Will you carry me to our room?”

  “Uh… what?”

  Laurel waved for Hal to stand up. He did, furrowing his brow as she then gestured for him to turn away from her. The sudden weight of the girl jumping onto his back almost made Hal’s legs give out, but he straightened his posture. She wasn’t that heavy, and though the stairs inside the inn took a bit of strength to make it all the way, he had them both in the room soon enough.

  He carefully shifted to let Laurel dismount directly onto the only bed in the room. A blanket and pillow had been set out on the floor, probably by Meridon. Hal sat down and took his boots off.

  “Do you need anything?” he asked. “Water, maybe? It will help you feel better, come morning?”

  The only reply was a tiny, girlish snore, followed by deep breathing and the sounds of the late crowd in the barroom below them.

  INTERLUDE

  “Don’t try to move, Mauve. Your burns are healing, but they’re… awfully bad.”

  Mauve tried to move, and instantly regretted it. He let out a reflexive cough as the pain hit him, his muscles tensing up. His chest, face, arms, and stomach burned like they were on fire. It felt like he was stuck in the last moment he could remember, with the flames exploding through the Kentar estate’s windows, shards of it getting caught up in the blast. A mixture of inferno and melted glass sweeping over him like a heavy gale in a storm.

  “What…” he muttered. His lips hurt when he moved them. “Where am I?”

  “You’re safe, Mauve,” said a feminine voice that he recognized. “It’s me, Madina. I offered to care for you in my home when they discovered that you were still alive.”

  “Madina…” Mauve repeated. He let out a miserable groan, trying to recollect his thoughts. He’d been at the reelection party. He and Hal had been showing off with the flows of Kye Lornis. Maddie had snuck off with him to one of the empty coat rooms, and they’d had a fun, albeit quick rustle on the carpet. Maddie.

  “Maddie!” groaned Mauve. “Is… she alright? Is anyone…?”

  Mauve tried to force his eyes open. One of them saw nothing, and it didn’t take much guesswork for him to figure out the reason why. The other struggled to focus, the gentle sun filtering in through the curtains still too much for his sensitive sight.

  “My daughter...” Madina’s voice caught in her throat. “She… I’m so sorry, Mauve. She died in the fire, along with everyone else. Except for you.”

  “No…” whispered Mauve. “No!”

  The pain of his burns was dwarfed by the pain of his heart as the reality of Madina’s words sunk in. He’d loved Maddie fiercely. She’d been his first real girlfriend. He’d courted her, and done all the romantic things he could think of. She’d been smarter than he was, and so incredibly beautiful. And now she was dead.

  “I’m so sorry, Mauve,” repeated Madina. “It… isn’t just her. The Kentars also… were caught in the fire. Nobody who was inside their estate at the time managed to escape. It looks as though there was an issue with the doors being blocked.”

  Karnas, Lilith, and Hal. They’d essentially been Mauve’s family, after losing his father. And now they were dead. Just like that. Without reason or explanation, taken from him in the span of a couple of minutes.

  “The dragon…” muttered Mauve. “Tell me. Did they find it?”

  He blinked several times, forcing his one good eye to focus on Madina. The similarities between her and her daughter were enough to twist the pain of Mauve’s grief. Her loose auburn hair fell across her shoulders, and though she was a woman in her late thirties, she’d kept her figure trim. She shared all
of Maddie’s generous endowments, along with the big, green eyes he’d fallen in love with.

  “Dragon?” Madina frowned at him, drawing a hand to her chest. “Mauve… Are you okay?”

  “There was… a dragon,” said Mauve. He realized how ridiculous what he was saying must sound, but he’d seen it. Hadn’t he? It had been through the window, through the reflections created by the interior’s light. Was there a chance it had just been his eyes playing tricks on him?

  “Mauve, you were breathing smoke,” said Madina, bringing her hand to the unmarred side of his face. “They found you hidden under burning rubble and bodies. The time you spent in that horrible situation left your mind free to… wander, a bit.”

  “Madina!” snapped Mauve. “I know what I saw!”

  He grabbed her wrist, surprising himself a little with the strength he put into the motion. Madina let out a surprised gasp and tried to pull back. Mauve sat up in the bed and instantly regretted it as the pain of his burns ran him down like a trampling horse. He passed out.

  ***

  “It’s not uncommon for men in your circumstances to wear wigs, and half-masks,” said Madina. “Or you could wait. See how your face heals. It’s a miracle that you’re alive, Mauve, you must keep that in mind.”

  Mauve turned his head to the side, angling the hand mirror to give himself a better view. He’d seen burn victims before, but he was beyond even the worst cases, the people he’d once pitied.

  His entire scalp had been badly burned, destroying his hair and leaving a lumpy expanse of scabs and scars in its place. His left ear, or rather, what was left of it, looked like melted wax. Most of the left half of his face was scabbed and shriveled, giving off nothing so much as the appearance of a rotting piece of fruit.

  He did still have his left eye, though the eye lids had fused together and would require surgery before they would part again. The right half of Mauve’s face had faired only slightly better, the burns there leaving him looking like a pinker, uglier version of the man he’d once been.

  “No wig,” said Mauve. “And no mask. This is the truth of what happened.”

  “Mauve…” Madina set a hand on his shoulder.

  “You don’t have to believe me yet, Madina,” he said. “You can wait until I’ve taken the dragon’s head as proof.”

  He felt her fingers tightening on his shoulder. She’d been treating him with kindness beyond any he’d ever experienced before in his life. She’d made him special foods, tea with pain numbing herbs, and she’d sat by his bedside, putting on a strong face for the maimed boyfriend of the daughter she’d so suddenly lost. Mauve had always liked Madina, though she’d often gone out of her way to thwart his efforts to spend time alone with Maddie.

  “I think you need more time to heal, Mauve,” said Madina. “Voiceman Deliant can wait. He’s not the kind of man who would come by just to send his worldly thoughts. You know as well as I do that he wants something.”

  “Bring me a cane,” said Mauve. “And help me dress.”

  His voice had taken on a deep, gravelly quality. The old him would have hated it. It matched his burned face and transformed appearance, and it made him aware of just how different of a person he was now.

  Madina left the room, returning a few moments later with a set of men’s trousers, a dress shirt and jacket, and a cane with a polished copper handle. Mauve knew without having to ask that the clothes had once belonged to Constant, Madina’s deceased husband. Mauve had gone with Maddie to visit the man’s grave regularly.

  Madina helped him stand. Mauve had to bite his tongue to keep from screaming at the pain. He was naked, and his burns were covered with healing oils and salves, but he tried to keep his posture dignified as the older woman carefully pulled the shirt onto him.

  He managed the trousers on his own, and then slipped into the jacket, which was a little tight on him. He accepted the cane as Madina passed it to him and took a tentative step forward.

  “I can help you,” said Madina. “It might be too soon Mauve. You could even return to bed, have him meet you there.”

  “…No,” muttered Mauve. He had to force the word out. His shoulder and chest were throbbing with pain where the cloth made contact with his injuries. “Just… get me some more of that tea.”

  Madina did, and Mauve drank it hot from the mug. Despite his protests, she helped him walk to the audience room of her estate. Mauve didn’t sit, instead leaning against one of the tables. He wasn’t sure if he’d have an easy time standing back up once he sat.

  The tea worked fast, and by the time Voiceman Deliant arrive, Mauve felt lazy and numb. Deliant was smiling as he entered the audience room, but his expression instantly turned to horror as he laid eyes upon Mauve.

  “Mauve…” Deliant slowly shook his head. “Bloody world, man. You…”

  Deliant hesitated, composing himself. He was of middling years, his black hair styled in one of the odd top buns that many balding men in the Collected Provinces favored over shorter haircuts. He forced a smile, nodding slightly in the face of the awkwardness his initial reaction had created.

  “Voiceman,” said Mauve. “Thank you for stopping by.”

  “When I… heard what had happened, I came as soon as I could,” said Deliant. “Voiceman Kentar was a dear friend of mine. I was crushed by the news.”

  Mauve was glad that the swelling and burns made his eyes less visible, as he was rolling them openly. Voiceman Deliant was a member of the naturalist party, and had been one of Karnas Kentar’s fiercest critics, despite both of them serving neighboring provinces.

  “It is crushing news, indeed,” said Mauve.

  “It is more than a small consolation to see that you managed to pull through, Mauve,” said Deliant. “My heart goes out to you and all that you’ve lost.”

  Mauve nodded slowly, sensing that Deliant was biding his time, building up to his point.

  “Unfortunately, this tragedy comes at a concerning time for the electorate, and myself,” said Deliant. “As I’m sure you know, I pledged quite a sum to Karnas to help fund his reelection campaign. It’s money that he had promised to pay back, eventually.”

  “And this concerns me, how?” asked Mauve.

  Voiceman Deliant flashed another fake smile.

  “You are his common law son,” said Deliant. “And as much as it pains me to bring this up now, both the Kentar inheritance and the Kentar obligations pass down to you, given that Karnas’s children also died in the fire. You’re an important person now, Mauve, with a critical role to play.”

  “This… is what you came here for?” asked Mauve, abandoning any effort to keep the anger from his voice.

  “My apologies, Mauve,” said Deliant. “I didn’t mean to strike a nerve. Of course, it goes without saying that if there is anything I can do for you, please, all you have to do-”

  “There is,” said Mauve, interrupting him. “The fire was… set intentionally. I’m going to need you to organize a formal inquiry to investigate it.”

  He’d given his approach some thought. After seeing Madina’s reaction to the mention of the dragon, he knew that speaking of it outright would mark him as unstable at best, and a lunatic, at worst. What he needed to do was to force the electorate and the Executive Voice to take a look at the undeniable evidence left behind in the wake of the destruction. He wasn’t stupid enough to go chasing after a dragon on his own.

  “Mauve,” said Deliant. “Sometimes, in the heat of the moment, we get the wrong idea about things. I know it must seem as though there needs to be an explanation for what happened, but it was a party. People were packed into the ballroom, drunk on wine, not paying attention to their surroundings. It was no one’s fault.”

  “I was there, Deliant,” said Mauve, his voice scratchy and low. “I know what happened. And an investigation needs to take place.”

  “There just isn’t the political will for such a thing,” said Deliant. “I’m truly sorry.”

  For once, Deliant fla
shed a real smile, a smile that made mockery of the people Mauve had lost. His anger cut through the haze of Madina’s tea, and Mauve reacted without thinking. Despite the burns, he was still strong. He punched Deliant hard in the face. The older man let out a surprised shout and fell on his ass.

  Mauve hit him again, this time with the cane, slamming the point of it into Deliant’s chest. Deliant gasped and fell onto his back. Mauve pressed the tip of the cane down on his neck.

  “You…” choked Deliant. “Have you lost your mind? Bloody world, Mauve! I’ll have you arrested.”

  “No,” said Mauve. “You won’t. It’s as you said, Deliant. I’m an important person now.”

  “You… bastard,” said Deliant. “The tragedy has clearly addled you, but that is no excuse for attacking a voiceman!”

  Mauve took a slow breath and forced himself to pull the cane back. He licked his lips, feeling an idea crystalize in his mind.

  “Deliant…” said Mauve. “You are correct. The political will to investigate what happened and how my family and friends died just isn’t there. Which is why I will be running to fill Karnas’s vacant seat in the electorate.”

  Deliant scoffed and shook his head.

  “You’re mad,” said Deliant. “Completely out of your mind.”

  “No,” said Mauve. “I don’t think I am. Even looking like this, I will still have the sympathy of the province on my side after all that’s happened. And I’ll have you on my side, as well, Deliant. You’ll support my campaign if you have any interest in recouping the debts you claim you’re owed.”

  Deliant stood to his feet, glaring at him. Mauve took a step closer to him, forcing both of his eyes to open wider. Deliant cowered back, his gaze flicking across the burns that he’d spent the entire conversation trying to ignore. Deliant was scared of him, and Mauve felt as though it was warranted as much from what he was willing to do to bring about justice for his family as it was from his appearance.

  “I… We…” Deliant gave a defeated shrug. “Maybe? Please, just relax Mauve. We can talk about all of this in good time.”