The Heartwood Crown

by Matt Mikalatos

  “I’m going to swim across,” he said.

  “No,” Madeline said, gently. So gently. Why was she speaking to him so gently? “It has to be . . . me.”

  “You won’t make it,” he shouted, and a pair of birds startled from the trees above them. “You can barely talk.”

  She laid the palm of her hand on his cheek. She was looking at him with a half smile, her eyes welling with tears. “You are . . . a good friend,” she said.

  “I’m not going to let you do it,” he said. “I’m not.”

  She hugged him then, and he, not expecting it, almost fell backward, recovered, put his arms around her. She held him with a fierceness that surprised him, that told him maybe she had more strength than he thought. She put both hands on his face and would not let him look away. “I am so thankful for you,” she said. “For your friendship. You have made so many things better in my life.”

  He tried to say something back to her but could only say, “Madeline . . .”

  “I love you,” she said, and he knew what she meant, knew that it had nothing to do with crushes or dating or getting married, it meant only what she had said. She loved him. And again, he couldn’t find a way to say it back to her, could only think of her in that still, black water, and that he wouldn’t—that he couldn’t—allow it. “Take care of yourself,” she said.

  She squeezed his shoulders and turned to Baileya. She hugged the Kakri woman, and neither spoke, though the affection on both their faces was clear. In a low voice, Madeline said, “I’ll need you . . . to hold him.”

  And before Jason knew what was happening Baileya had wrapped him from behind with her strong arms, and he couldn’t get free. “No,” he said. “Madeline, no!”

  She was hugging Shula now, saying something he couldn’t hear. They held each other for a moment, and Shula pushed Madeline’s hair out of her face, and they hugged again.

  “Baileya, let me go, you have to let me go!”

  He struggled, and Baileya readjusted, held him so they were face-to-face. She didn’t speak, but she didn’t let him go, either. Just held him and let him watch Madeline.

  Shula glanced at him, a deep sadness on her face, then got on her knees and helped Madeline untie her boots. She waded with Madeline into the water until they were up to their waists.

  “No, no, Madeline, no. Let me do it!”

  She looked at him again, standing with her back to the deeper water. She gave him that half smile, and a small, almost tentative wave. Then she lay down on her back and pushed off, floating into the darkness.

  “Please, Mads, please don’t do this.” He struggled with Baileya, pushing against her arms, kicking with his legs. “Baileya, please. If you let me go now, I can still beat her to the other side. I can swim faster. Baileya, please.”

  Her arms didn’t loosen. She didn’t say anything. Shula stood in the water, peering into the darkness. He was crying, and he couldn’t hear Madeline in the water. “I can’t see her,” he said. “Shula, can you see her?”

  Shula did not turn, just shook her head.

  “No!” he sobbed in Baileya’s arms. “Madeline, it’s not too late, come back, just follow the sound of my voice.” But he knew she wouldn’t, knew she was gone. A crushing sadness set in, and he gasped for breath.

  “She is gone,” Baileya said. “My dear Wu Song, she has left us.”

  “No,” he said again, pulling at her arms. Then, in a sudden panic, he thought of Madeline alone in the dark water, on her back, looking at the rising stars of the Sunlit Lands, moving toward the far shore of the cursed river, listening to Jason sob and cry, and he hoped she hadn’t made it to the far side yet, because he had failed to tell her everything he wanted. “I love you, too, Madeline Oliver!” he shouted, and the words echoed across the water, but there was no reply.

  He lost all his strength, collapsed into Baileya’s arms. She caught him, lowered him to the ground. She curled up beside him and stroked his hair. They stayed like this for a long time, until Baileya fell still and asked, “Do you hear?”

  Shula turned to listen. She moved toward them through the water and the dark. There was the sound of water moving. A trickle at first, then a rivulet, then a stream. It flowed just beside them, picking up speed, growing in volume. “She did it,” Shula said.

  Only then did Baileya let him go, and he ran into the water, shouting Madeline’s name.

  30

  THE FIRETHORNS

  The Sunlit Lands are not as they should be. The people fight and argue. They have ceased to be the people of the Sunlit Lands and have made for themselves other names.

  FROM “THE GOOD GARDENER,” AN ALUVOREA STORY

  Elenil had surrounded the firethorns. Shula watched them from the cover of the forest. They appeared to be on all sides, even where the carnivorous forest began. Lamisap, the Aluvorean woman, shifted next to her. “We must hurry,” she said.

  The woman had appeared soon after they had lost Madeline. Jason was still in the water, shouting Madeline’s name. Baileya stood off to the side, watching over them both with quiet sorrow. There had been a rustling in a tree back the way they had come, and when Shula stepped over to investigate, Lamisap had stepped out of it. A hundred or so other Aluvoreans had followed her, all of them with skin the color of the forest. Some had flowers twined through their hair. A cloud of faeries on hummingbirds zipped around them. The Aluvoreans seemed drawn to the water. They stood on the edge of the lake or put their feet in the fresh river that had begun to run south. A great white bird had waded into the water, an eye turned toward Shula, and then flapped its long wings before circling once and flying away, over the trees.

  “The annaginuk now wears the Heartwood Crown,” Lamisap said in a reverent whisper. “Magic flows again! Now please come, for I need your help.”

  Jason didn’t respond, didn’t even look at the Aluvorean. Baileya turned to Shula and shook her head, then inclined it back toward Jason. She wouldn’t be leaving him now, not when he was like this. Shula didn’t want to go anywhere, didn’t want to help anyone, either. Still, she found herself asking Lamisap, “Where were you when Madeline was leaving us? You’re the one who asked her to come here, and you hid in the trees when she made her final decision?”

  “We did not wish to interrupt your good-byes,” the Aluvorean said. “It seemed disrespectful. But now that the annaginuk has been crowned, we need your help to make sure she receives the power due her sacrifice.”

  Shula was tired of these people saying things that didn’t make any sense. “What is it? What do you need?”

  “The old magic, the tainted magic, is draining away, but slowly. For Madeline’s magic to take effect we must clear away the underbrush and the trees that should be dead but are not. We must release the firethorns. The heat of the fire will open the fireseeds, spreading the newly formed ways of magic into the Sunlit Lands. If the fires don’t spread, the magic will change but slowly. Slowly enough, I fear, that the people of the Sunlit Lands will force it to keep its shape. The Elenil, of course, but also others who have grown used to the way things are.”

  “What keeps it from spreading? Why does the fire need our help?”

  “The Elenil have placed a fire watch around the thorns, and their army spreads through the forest even now to keep the flames at bay and to kill any who try to help the first sparks of change.”

  “Show me,” Shula said. At those words all the Aluvoreans faded into the woods again, except Lamisap, who led Shula on the long trek back to the firethorns. She hadn’t said good-bye to Jason or Baileya. She couldn’t bear the thought of speaking to them today. Their shared loss was too fresh, and she feared the raw emotion of it.

  “What will become of the other Aluvoreans,” Shula said, “when the flames spread? What about my Yenil and Madeline’s mother?”

  “They will be safe,” Lamisap said. “This is when Queen’s Breath is meant to be used.” She showed one of the leaves to Shula, like a long oval oar. A fresh wave of grief
hit Shula. Madeline wouldn’t need those any longer. “If you wet this leaf and put it on your neck, you can breathe under water. Beneath Aluvorea there are caves that are safe. They can only be reached through the water. When the forest burns, we use Queen’s Breath so we can swim deep enough to find the entrances. When the fire is done and the new growth begins, we return and find our new place in the world.”

  “Is someone with them? Taking them to the caves?”

  Lamisap nodded. “Patra Koja will instruct them, I know. You and I will defeat the Elenil, and then we will go together.”

  “And the other Aluvoreans, will they help us?”

  “The people of Aluvorea are not fighters. They will go to the caves.”

  But what about Jason and Baileya? Maybe they could swim to the Queen’s Island, or just outrun the flames and head for the sea, or escape out of the forest. They needed to be warned. But first there was the problem of the Elenil.

  There were far too many. They were glorious in their shiny armor, with their war beasts and bright swords and colorful cloth swatches. In another time and place, Shula would have been mesmerized by the pageantry of it all. Messenger birds of many sizes and colors flashed through the trees, taking orders to distant soldiers. Even in the smoke from the firethorns, the Elenil looked regal. The pops of flame made shining reflections on their armor.

  An enormous elephant lumbered at the outskirts of the flames, squirting water on the ground. The Elenil dug trenches and moved buckets, and some were cutting back the brush, making sure a stray spark couldn’t ignite the forest beyond the limits of the thorns.

  “I can set the forest on fire myself,” Shula said. She didn’t see a way to get through the defenses of the Elenil.

  “Yes,” Lamisap said, “and that will help it to spread more quickly. But the firethorns must spread. If all of Aluvorea burns but the firethorns remain contained, then the magic will still be stunted. We have to release the thorns and then, yes, you can burn it all. But be cautious, for magic will cease completely for a time, and your bargain will not protect you from the flames then.”

  “The most vulnerable place may be where the firethorns and the stone flowers meet,” Shula said. “The Elenil will not be able to hold the line if we can push them toward the stone flowers. When the line breaks, the firethorns can get through. But how long do they take to move? How big of an exit do the thorns need?”

  As if in answer, a firethorn behind the Elenil lines grew so blazing hot Shula could feel the wash of heat from their hiding place. It glowed furnace white and made a loud popping noise. Sparks shot through the hollow stem, spurting twenty feet in the air, over the Elenil lines. Soldiers raced to the sparks and stomped them out.

  Lamisap lifted her head with a look of alarm. “What’s this?” She put her hand on Shula’s arm. “Wait here. Do not move.” She disappeared up a tree as quickly and silently as a squirrel.

  Shula studied the Elenil near her. She quickly picked out several Elenil she knew. She’d met many of them during her time in the army at Far Seeing. In fact, she could almost certainly just walk up to them and have a conversation, which might be distraction enough for Lamisap to . . . well, to do something.

  She debated how long to wait for Lamisap. It made no sense to speak to the Elenil if Lamisap wasn’t there to do anything. That’s when she saw Rondelo walking alongside the flames with his stag, Evernu. Here was an Elenil she knew well and considered a friend. No doubt he was the commander here, or at least near the top of the command chain. Shula clutched the branch of a tree, weighing the options. There was no reason for Rondelo to think of her as a traitor, was there? Was she included in the list of humans that the archon wanted captured or dead? She wasn’t sure, but Rondelo almost certainly knew she had been there in the tower when Yenil cut off the archon’s hand. She hadn’t seen him since then. She had gone immediately back to Earth. Who knew what he would do if he saw her?

  A hand on Shula’s shoulder startled her. Lamisap motioned for Shula to follow, but quietly. They made their way through the trees, doing their best to stay out of sight of the Elenil. Most of them were focused on the fire. Hmmm. Shula wondered if starting a smaller fire would be enough to draw a few of them away. Lamisap led her down a narrow path that descended into a grown-over gully. “We have holes throughout the woods for when we need to hide,” Lamisap said. “I have hidden them here.”

  “Hidden who?”

  Lamisap pulled back a veil of vines and led her into a shallow cave carved in the rock—large enough to stand in, it was cool and dark. She couldn’t see the back wall. She did, however, see the silver faces looming over her, and behind them the unmistakable shape of a Scim warrior, his stone ax held jauntily over his shoulder. She stepped backward, using her magic to light her hand on fire, casting a bright glow on the assembled soldiers. In the light she could see the black clothes on the masked men and see the Scim warrior more clearly: Break Bones.

  Break Bones smiled, revealing his crooked yellow teeth. “Pray put out the light, Shula Bishara, lest thine old friends the Elenil come a-crashing into our tiny refuge.”

  She let the light fade. “What are you doing here? Where’s Darius?”

  The Scim stepped closer. “In Far Seeing, I hope, about to skewer the archon.”

  “Why isn’t he here? Didn’t he get the message we sent?” Her mind started to put new plans in place. With this many men, plus Break Bones, they had a real chance of doing this. She thought for a moment about Darius as the Black Skull, or even just with the Sword of Tears, and how much help it would be to have him here. “Well?”

  “He received it, lady, but the battle at Far Seeing will take only a day or two. He will come to find his lady Madeline when the war is won.”

  Shula’s stomach clenched, and her hands curled into fists. When the war was won. Of course. He could put Madeline on hold for a few days, why not? “She’s dead,” Shula said. “Just a few hours ago. If he had come when he got Madeline’s message, he would have seen her.”

  Break Bones covered his face for a moment, then mumbled, “May the Peasant King welcome her into his courts across the sea.” A fierce wildness came into his eyes. “Was it the Elenil who killed her?”

  “In a way,” Shula said. “She took the Heartwood Crown and reset the magic of the Sunlit Lands. All that remains now is to make sure the firethorns spread and burn Aluvorea to dust.”

  “Then we will fight the Elenil to make this happen. For the Scim and for Madeline.” He looked at the oddly dressed soldiers and added, “For all the peoples of the Sunlit Lands.”

  It was strange to be on the same side as Break Bones. She had fought him many times on the battlefield, so to be standing beside him instead of in opposition to him felt backward. She had always respected his passion, his fury in battle. She realized it was partly because of how different he was from her father, who was mild and kind and generous to the point of personal harm. She wished he had been more like this unhinged warrior. But then, she supposed, he wouldn’t have been her father. This reminded her, somehow, of Darius, and her anger rekindled. If Break Bones had been with him, how did he end up here? “Why are you here if Darius isn’t?”

  Break Bones hesitated. “Darius could not lay aside what needed to be done in Far Seeing. I told him I would meet him there, and he left before me, in the first wave of soldiers. As preparations were made, I realized I could not ignore Madeline’s message. Though the message was to Darius, I made a pledge to serve Madeline every day of my life, for she returned the Sword of Years to the Scim people. I could not in good conscience ignore her words, which seemed to me a summons.”

  “Then you’re a better friend than Darius,” she said bitterly.

  “We can discuss such things later,” Lamisap said. “Now time slips away, and we are all hidden like wasps in a wall, waiting to sting. So let us fly!”

  Shula considered the soldiers with Break Bones. “Who are these people? And can they fight?”

  “They fight we
ll enough, lady. They are soldiers sent by the necromancer king of Pastisia. They have crossbows and electric swords. I have a dagger to spare should you need one.”

  The necromancers! She stared at them a moment. The Pastisians were not well known—everyone Shula had met in the Sunlit Lands was afraid of them. But even if they were twice as fearsome as the rumors claimed, she wasn’t sure there were enough of them here to do what needed to be done. “I’ll use my own bare hands,” Shula said. “Here is my plan: I’ll set fires in the farther woods, drawing some of the Elenil away. When their ranks thin, you attack. We work to make a break in the line where the firethorns can begin to spread.”

  Break Bones asked Lamisap, “How fast will they spread, given the chance?”

  “A fast walk, I’d say, without a wind to help it. With a good gust, at the speed of the wind itself.”

  Break Bones pounded his fist against the chest of one of the Pastisian soldiers. “We go to war, then!”

  The soldier did not cheer or return Break Bones’s excitement. Instead, he said, “There is an Earth politician who wrote that no matter how necessary, war is always an evil, never a good. We will not learn how to live together in peace by killing each other’s children.”

  Break Bones turned away, disgusted. “You Pastisians and your books.”

  “Pastisians go to war for the sake of peace and in service to our king. We take no pleasure in it.”

  “All the more pleasure for me, then,” Break Bones said.

  Shula laughed. These were the warriors who terrified so many in the Sunlit Lands, yet they were reluctant in battle, or so it seemed. Reluctant, at least, to enter it.

  Lamisap shifted from foot to foot, nervous. “Are we ready, then? The time, friends, the time.”

  “Give me three minutes,” Shula said, and slipped from the hole. She climbed to the forest floor, watching carefully for Elenil. She didn’t want to set the fires too close, or the soldiers would return to fight when the Pastisians came out, but too far and they might not see it in time to run to it.