The Truth about Heroes: Complete Trilogy (Heroes Trilogy)

by Krista Gossett

  The tales were the bulk of their nightly pastime; a time or two Pierait had started to make love to her and she had had to patiently explain the very large downside to sex and sand. She had promised they would make up for the dry spell once they had settled in Maharyjab. Pierait had not been thrilled, but admitted it wasn’t worth the risk. Indeed, the tales had done well as a distraction and he lost himself in the retelling.

  Arriving in Maharyjab, Lyria found comfort in knowing that it looked exactly the same, bringing on the memory of days she had spent thinking of this place as her sand globe. Thinking that she would never leave now seemed sad to her; since meeting Pierait and taking in the urgency of the world, this place now seemed more dust and dreariness. It was a no-brainer that they stay in Urys’s inn where she had worked until Pierait had found her, but she found her legs felt heavier the closer they got. Would Urys even be happy to see her or had he been relieved to see her go?

  Since the elementals and old gods had faded from existence (if the violence could be understated as such), Pierait’s supply of pearls had dwindled away and it was coin they had now. It did not surprise her that that had been Pierait’s doing—that on one of their run-ins with merchants, he had managed to sell the lot of them, not sure if they would remain even if they came away from their adventure alive. She hoped the pearls did not crumble into dust; if Urys had not sold off the ones he got from Pierait already, he would be furious once they met up again. When she told Pierait as much, he had laughed and shrugged, assuring her he had enough to pay for the slight and then some. Coin could spread far in the desert.

  Lyria’s heart leapt up into her throat as she saw Urys outside of the inn, frowning unfocused ahead of him and rocking on the balls of his feet. His hair, once sandy saw a touch of ashen grey at the temples and his gut looked noticeably smaller. He looked healthier in any case, but Maharyjab suddenly felt older looking at Urys. Suddenly, Lyria was noticing cracks in the sandy structures she hadn’t noticed before (no doubt from the quakes across the world) and the illusion she held of her untouched sand globe crumbled away suddenly. She panicked a little and started to break into quicker steps, but then her legs suddenly felt numb and heavy. She felt Pierait take her hand and squeeze it gently.

  The small motion of comfort released her vocal chords and her doubts together.

  “This isn’t my home anymore, Pierait, and I’m not even sure if I am welcome,” Lyria breathed out anxiously. Again, Pierait squeezed her hand.

  “We don’t have to be welcome, Lyria; our coin is good. Urys will not refuse us and we will have great tales to tell to entertain his patrons besides,” Pierait assured her.

  Lyria wanted to be mad that he had brushed her fears off so easily, but he was right. They were not looking to stay in Maharyjab regardless; it was a stop before they returned to Abundance and tried their lot in a new land. The Wellspring Valley was not a place she would recognize at all, but that brought excitement, not fear. Still, she wanted her goodbyes to Urys to not be a total mess. Her legs released their perceived weight, but her spine straightened as she clutched Pierait’s hand and approached Urys.

  Urys’ weathered face seemed to drain of color when he realized who approached him now and he inspected Lyria quickly from head to toe, his jaw dropped slightly, unable to hide his awe. When his eyes met hers, they seemed glossy.

  “Lyria? Is that really you? I had heard Myceum was leveled to the ground and feared the worst,” Urys admitted. His voice was already rough from years of desert dust, but it was even harsher choked with emotion. Lyria had not been holding in tears but they flowed down her cheeks now.

  Urys did not wait another moment and drew Lyria into a bearhug, causing her to squeal in surprise as he lifted her up and spun her around in the embrace before letting her down, grabbing her wrist and pulling her into the cool, dimmer interior of the lobby/ bar/dining area. He sat her down on a stool and gestured for Pierait to do the same, clapping Pierait on the back in a friendly gesture as he rounded the bar and poured each of them a mug of Maharyjab’s special drink, Cactus Coolata. It was a pale green drink, sweet and ice cold, and Lyria did not hesitate to take a sip. Her eyes fluttered at her pleasure and Pierait took a sip, but watched her over his mug, a different sort of pleasure hinted in his gaze.

  A lump had barely formed in Lyria’s throat as they entered a moment of silence, a contented one for the men, but Lyria got the odd sensation that a woman gets introducing her father to her boyfriend. Urys smiled and it brought lines to his face that betrayed both his age and years in the desert. He wiped absently at the bar, not for any other reason than being a barkeeper making it a force of habit.

  “Myceum looked dark in the distance not so long ago. The travelers called it a Blood Storm. There was not a single person left alive there,” Urys told them, his voice hitching ever so slightly, betraying that he had worried for her.

  “I don’t think anyone will want to go there for a long while, if at all. Places like that often stay empty. Even looters might shy away,” Pierait stated matter-of-factly, his face enigmatic in a way that reminded her of the Soulless boy he had been.

  Urys seemed to look more closely at Pierait now. Lyria chastised herself silently for the nervousness bubbling up inside of her again. With as much ease as she could manage, she reached for Pierait’s hand on the bar and laced her fingers through his. She didn’t look at him but she could feel his smile.

  “You’re different somehow,” Urys mused in his scrutiny.

  Pierait nodded bemusedly; if he was tense at all, Lyria could not tell. His pulse was even, his skin warm and dry, his muscles relaxed. She felt a momentary spark of anger, envy, and pride. The Touch may have left her but it did not take from her what she saw in people when their thoughts pulled at their physical being.

  “I’m sure you’ve heard that the Soulless are no more…” Pierait stated but it was a question he left hanging until Urys nodded. Lyria looked astonished as Pierait’s purplish glow appeared faintly around him.

  “I thought the magic was gone…” Lyria breathlessly added before Pierait could go on. He shook his head and covered their linked hands with his other hand comfortingly.

  “Until I can find a place for the Fount, it stays with me. Souls are not really magic—they are the essence of life and death. That is why Mot and the Mother…” Pierait started to explain and Lyria could tell he didn’t wish to elaborate here. Or maybe couldn’t. They had promised the Goddess. She filed it away to ask him about it later. Pierait looked back at Urys, who was clearly feeling more confused by the moment.

  “What she means is that, in searching for my own soul, I managed to unlock the Fount and become a sort of Wellspring myself,” Pierait started to explain. The Goddess had not wanted them to let others know the Old Gods were gone so he struggled to find the words he could use. “Until the Old Gods… loosed their grip on the Fount, the Soulless would always exist. When I released the Wellspring, it had nowhere to go but through me.”

  “When the world shook, was that you angering them?” Urys asked without accusation. The man was simply coolly curious.

  Pierait searched his words carefully before continuing.

  “When the oceans raged and the peaks were destroyed, that was the result of the exchange, yes. But the second time… the elementals and the Old Gods were at war. They will not be meddling in the affairs of mortals any longer. A resolution was reached or we would not still exist,” Pierait ended, his lips tightening. He did not like the taste of that half-truth, but he would not break his promise to Kalhmera.

  The longer Urys and Pierait talked, the more Lyria let down her guard and Urys was always a wealth of information. It was not long before they were all laughing and enjoying the fruits of their labor, lifting a great weight from their once doomed world. They had not realized how much time had passed until the evening crowds started to fill up the room. When Lyria made to pay for a room, Urys shook his head and shoved a key in her hand. He had a moment to marvel, lin
gering at the simplicity of touching her skin, that Lyria did not flinch for fear of the Touch and rounded the bar to hug her again and shake Pierait’s hand before turning back to his patrons.

  Lyria and Pierait headed back to the room, holding hands, and this time Lyria liked the silence. It was an odd feeling to be walking these halls as a guest and she began to notice more lovingly the details of this place. She sealed it into her memory, knowing it might be the last she would see of it. She and Pierait were returning to the Wellspring Valley to make their home. First to Abundance to visit the King and find out what had changed, for certainly it had.

  Once they reached the room, Pierait had started to caress her shoulders and she could tell his pulse was now racing with his building arousal. She spun around, so tempted to give in to that heat, but she peered into his eyes, watching the cloudiness of lust dissipate as concern replaced it. His eyes were still hooded as he stroked her cheek.

  “What is wrong, my love?” Pierait asked, his voice a heavy purr of desire and restraint.

  She smiled but it did not reach her eyes. She rested her hand on his forearm, pressing his hand more firmly to her face.

  “You never told me that you need a place for the Fount. Is there something I should know?” Lyria asked worriedly.

  Pierait laughed a little and seemed to relax. Lyria frowned, this reaction not comforting her in the least. He rubbed her shoulders as if to warm them, his eyes now gentle.

  “It’s part of the reason I wanted to return to Abundance. You remember the elemental founts there; I think one of them is where it is meant to rest,” Pierait told her now.

  “How long have you known this?” Lyria asked him unhappily.

  “It is something Kalhmera has been visiting my sleep with. She is unsure herself, but it is clear that the Fount is not meant to reside with mortals indefinitely.”

  Still, something more bothered Lyria, but since she couldn’t figure out what it was, she kept silent. After moments of silence, Pierait’s lips found her skin and she gave in to his need as it built need inside of her. She did not know if it was the silken luxury of the beds or the desert air but neither of them slept much that night as their passions roused again and again. It was not until the dawn betrayed the passage of time that they finally found rest.

  Chapter 9: On the Way to Ersenais

  It was easily decided after leaving Xanias that the Bryfolk Hole would be the next place to stop. On this leg of the journey, Krose, Dinsch and Seles seemed the chattiest and Rienna was content to hang back with Finn and Verity as Finn explained to Verity how he and Rienna had first met there. He did not hedge around the fact that the Summer Festival had turned into a huge orgy and that he had been no observer. Verity had laughed unperturbed but admitted that she could never have done it herself. Rienna had admitted that she could not have either, but sheepishly admitted it did not mean that she had not had her own celebration. Like so much of the journeys in her past, losing her virginity to Krose had seemed like part of another life.

  At some point, Krose had pulled the two groups into the conversation of some of his and Dinsch’s adventures and, though he had told some of the stories before, Rienna had been distracted and felt a little guilty that they were new to her. Still, there was some peace to be had in not being too distracted to hear them now.

  There was no wondering if they had reached the Bryfolk Hole once they were assaulted by the Bryfolk and accosted into the start of the impromptu celebration of their returning heroes. Although this was their first introduction to Verity, she was treated like an old friend as well and Rienna had the presence of mind to warn her of their native drink.

  When night came (free of orgies), Finn and Verity as well as Dinsch and Seles filed off together and Krose had found Rienna sitting with a wan smile on her face, gazing into a large but fading bonfire, the Bryfolk around her sleeping deep and contentedly. He sat next to her with a contented sigh and found a branch to awaken the fire a bit, poking at it wordlessly.

  “Not looking for a reprisal of the last time we were here, are you?” Rienna asked jokingly, her voice a little husky from the smoke of the fire drying her throat.

  Krose smirked and shook his head, knowing she was only being conversational. He kept his eyes on his task of stoking the fire.

  “I don’t think either of us are the same people as we were then,” Krose added, a thought that she had not shared with him but knew to be true.

  Rienna pulled the blanket a Bryfolk had given her more tightly around her shoulders as a cool breeze chilled her a little.

  She watched Krose unabashedly and observed that he had changed much since they met. He was pure muscle, still lean but not wiry. His hair nearly touched his shoulders now and his kind eyes were wiser and more watchful. It occurred to her that none of them had yet said a word about their time on Elcarim and wondered if it was a good idea.

  “What do you do to chase away the illusions?” Rienna asked, hoping she didn’t have to elaborate. She saw Krose’s shoulders stiffen and knew she did not. Her experiences were not illusions though—Belias’s cruelty and Melchior’s army of the dead were all too real.

  “Despite how disgusting the truth was, I think the moment that haunts me was when the women in the grove had turned to hags. It wasn’t the illusions leaving completely but the time it took for the truth to distort. I didn’t really want to ever talk about this, Rienna,” Krose said a little sharply.

  Rienna shook her head, unable to stop.

  “I don’t feel the same. I can’t stop being haunted by Belias, by Ashe’s death. But it’s Melchior, I think, that haunts me the most. It wasn’t enough for him to lose his brother there, but then to see his illegitimate children come to him in undeath. The pain and despair that caused him to take his own life… I would have settled for illusions.”

  She suddenly looked to Krose apologetically, his eyes cold and angry as he looked at her.

  “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to belittle what you went through,” she started to say but he shot up to his feet and started to speed away. She scrambled to her feet to chase after him and hurried ahead of him to stop him. He meant to push past her, but she felt sickness lurching in again and his shove had sent her sprawling onto her ass and Krose’s rage had turned into concern and shame as he bent to help her up. She took his help but punched him when she found her feet, hard enough to send him staggering back. The anger simmered again as he rubbed his jaw and rotated it in its socket.

  “What are you trying to do exactly? This world doesn’t have room for washed-up heroes, Rienna, so what good does it do to hold onto what we were when the world was dying? We all made stupid choices when we thought there was nothing to lose!” Krose spat the words at her, his anger seething as he tried not to wake anyone around them.

  Rienna’s lip quivered as she held onto tears, her fingernails biting into her shaking fists.

  “I don’t know, Krose. I don’t know, okay? What exactly am I supposed to do? Everyone seems to have a new start figured out, someone to build a new life with, some damn idea of what they want in this world and I’m… I don’t know what I am! The people I wanted to save… some are gone forever, the rest of you are leaving. What am I going back to? I was prepared to die since the day I stepped foot outside of Ersenais and now I’m going back! To what, Krose? What am I going back to?” Rienna pleaded, not so easily able to contain her desperation.

  Krose’s eyes calmed in the face of her confusion and he grabbed her shoulders kindly, steadying her until her frantic eyes met his and held.

  “Rienna, no one is leaving you and Kalhmera has given us a gift of protection so we will have plenty of opportunity to meet each other again. I’m not going too far away from you at all; Dinsch and Seles are not staying here either. On the way, they have decided that the Bryfolk Hole would only be a visit and they want to come back with us to Ersenais. And you… You’re not going to be alone at all, Rienna. Seije will be close when you return to see the Queen and I will
see my brother again before I go back towards the electric city to build my restaurant, not far at all from where you’ll be. Finn and Verity will visit, Pierait and Lyria too—you forget that with Kalhmera, we are not far away at all,” Krose explained comfortingly.

  Rienna laughed weakly and wiped at her tears.

  “The Goddess isn’t our personal transportation service, you know,” Rienna chided back. “Melchior pestered Nuriel with menial tasks and you see where that got him.”

  Krose laughed at that and dropped his arms to his sides. “Yeah, but it’s like blinking for her,” Krose shot back kindly. Rienna frowned again.

  “I’m sorry I said that, Krose. I don’t know why I let things get to me again. I keep thinking I have things under control, but I don’t.”

  “As observant as you are of others sometimes, you seem to be pretty oblivious when it comes to yourself,” Krose scolded her, not unkindly. Krose reached out and took her hand. “Come on, you need to get some sleep. We’re not in any hurry to leave tomorrow, but you need rest.”

  Krose took Rienna to a room in the burrow with a sumptuous bed, freshly made and ready for her then walked off, alone in his thoughts while everyone else slept but for a few night-owl scribes in the dusty chambers below. He returned to the bonfire, the only place where there was still light and he took out the little leatherbound book and wrote. He stoked the fire a few times as he did and when the light of the dawn was more than light of the embers, he let the fire die out, tucked the book back into his satchel and slept where he was.

  Verity was the first to wake, since her and Finn had been among the first to go to sleep. They were naked beneath the soft sheets in their bed in the burrow and she tucked them around her as she reached for Finn beside her and draped her arm over his lower back, tickling at the soft downy feathers there. She wondered if Reishe used different beds now that she thought about it. She hadn’t really looked at his room in Windbreak to see. They had to sleep on their stomachs because of the wings and they did tuck well enough in repose to not batter her at night, but it couldn’t be too comfortable to not have the option to change position. While she wondered, he stirred beside her and put his hand over hers, smiling sleepily at her when their eyes met. She propped her head up with her free arm and smiled back at him.