Heart of Time (Ruined Heart Series Book 1)

by Skye MacKinnon

  There was a long silence between us. Then, timidly, he spoke. “Would it help if I ask his lordship whether I can show you the gardens? I’m sure they’re not as beautiful as the wild nature you’re used to, but they are quite nice. And I could show you my little herb patch. It’s not as big as I’d like it to be, but space is sparse in this castle, every square metre has to be claimed from the lake.”

  I nodded, still not trusting my voice not to falter.

  “And I could show you my laboratory. It’s nothing big, but it’s mine. I try out new recipes there and dry the herbs I grow. Sometimes his lordship brings back foreign plants and flowers from his travels and asks me to find out if they have any use to them. That’s one of my favourite things to do, experimenting with those new and unknown plants. I’ve written a few scrolls on some of them, not that anyone would read them, but still, it’s interesting to do. This one here is one of those his lordship gave me to study. I call it fairy’s wing. See here, those tiny purple flowers? They are actually much larger, but all rolled into minuscule balls. In the evening, they unfold, almost like wings, to catch the last rays of the sun. In the early hours of the day, they do the same, but this time to catch the morning dew. Then they fold up again, protecting themselves from the heat of the day. Quite fascinating, those flowers. But the important bit of this plant is its root. They’re really quite bulbous, and there’s a thick juice stored in them. I use it to glue together the edges of a wound, and only a thin scar will remain, much thinner than it would be if I used conventional methods. I’ve also noticed that injuries heal much faster when treated with the root juice of fairy’s wing.”

  I smiled at his enthusiasm that had now replaced his earlier shyness. I liked him. Maybe this unplanned trip to Fer had its good sides, too.

  6

  Great Plains

  The Great Plains, often called ‘The Plains’ for short, is a large highland area set between the Free Cities and the Kingdom of Fer. Its northern border is formed by the Snake River and parts of the Misty Swamp, while its southern border is made up of the deep woods of the Lonely Forest.

  Their population is sparse, yet the people who settle there are known for their hardiness and assertiveness. There is no ruler of the Plains, each town or village rules itself, though it is known for villages to form co-operations with other dwellings, lending support if needed. There are also trade agreements between the Free Cities and some of the larger towns in the Plains.

  When the former country of Elasia was overrun by invaders from the Western Counties during the Fifth War, which led to the forming of the Kingdom of Fer, the people of the Plains destroyed the only bridge that led over the Eternal River, thereby ensuring their freedom and independence. The bridge was only rebuilt a decade later after the Kingdom of Fer signalled that they had no interest in taking over the hard to settle lands of the Plains.

  - An Introduction to the Geography of the Continent, Sir Tom Delavell

  Once again, I was standing in front of the large wooden door of Lassadar’s study. A young servant boy had brought me here and then left, telling me to wait until his master bid me in. I had been waiting for at least ten minutes now. The staircase was cold, and I was shivering slightly in my light summer dress. I had been given this dress when I had been moved into my tower room. Even though I was brought warm water to wash each in morning, I had not been given any new clothes to wear. Not only was the dress too light for this cold autumn morning, but it was also beginning to smell. I would have to ask Lassadar for another one. I didn’t like having to rely on him to provide me with the basic things I needed. It was not like living with the Ghorres family, where I had worked for my living. There, I had a fixed allowance paid to me by Luca depending on how many shows I took part in each month. Usually, I didn’t need a lot of money while we were travelling in the warmer months of the year, a few coins for a drink or a meal in local pubs, or money to buy clothes at a market. The rest I saved for spending during the winter, when we were staying in one of the Free Cities, where everything cost much more than in the villages of the Plains or the small settlements on Kinrock Beach. Most of my money I spent in the story houses of Allembach. I could sit there and listen to songs and stories for hours, slowly sipping on a large mug of ale.

  And then there was the market of Port Royal, hundreds, thousands of colourful stalls selling everything I could ever imagine and more. Beautiful jewellery made from sea shells or rare stones, fabric twice as large as me and still lighter than a copper coin, candles that gave off the most unusual smells, exotic food from places I had never heard of, clothes in all the colours of the rainbow, knives made from folded metal, and more, always more than I could ever look at. Oh, the wonders of the Free Cities! I smiled as I thought of the small necklace I had bought for Mara last year, made from stones that were the same green as her own eyes. She had worn it together with small ear-studs of a similar colour. The year before, Mara had taken me to a small store in Allembach, where they sold jewellery made from wood. There were tiny beads, each of them shaped in a different way to compliment the natural shape of the wood. There was a tiny baby lying on its mother’s hand, a cat, sleeping with its tail wrapped around its body, a human face that stared right at you, a tiny flower whose petals were caught in the process of unfolding. In the shop, Mara made me choose two earrings, one a small piece of driftwood with a beautiful mixture of brown colourings, the other a tiny human figure, bending backwards like an acrobat. In the evening, Mara had pricked my earlobes with a long needle to allow me to wear the beautiful pieces of jewellery she had bought for me. My hand went up to my right ear. The hole was still there, but the earring was missing, lost somewhere between Ashenfields and this place. The left earring was still there. Somehow it had survived my ordeal. My fingers felt its smooth surface. The acrobat had gone, yet the driftwood was still with me. I had become driftwood myself, having been swept away from my origin, fighting with the waves that threatened to have me drowned, always ending up in places I did not expect. I could either give up swimming or try to ride the waves, taking what was offered to me and using it for my own gains. I told myself that I would not drown.

  The door opened with a creak and Lor emerged, leaning heavily on a wooden crutch that he had wedged under his right arm bend. He shot me a poisonous glance, then began to slowly limp down the stone stairs. At this pace, it would take him a long time to descend the spiral staircase leading down from the tower. I allowed myself a small smile.

  I entered Lassadar’s study, expecting him to sit in his armchair as usual. Instead, he was standing by the window, looking out over the calm blue lake. I closed the door behind me and stayed there, not knowing whether I should sit down or approach Lassadar. He had bound his long hair into a simple tail that fell down over the space between his shoulder blades. There were a few strands of white contrasting his otherwise pitch-black hair. I wondered how old he might be. He had the energy of a young man, yet his knowledge and wit made him seem older. He had an ageless quality to himself, that was only reinforced by his charm and well-mannered behaviour.

  Without looking at me, he began to speak.

  “Lor has paid for his intolerable behaviour towards you. I prefer to deal with such things as quickly as possible so that they will not fester and become more than they originally seemed to be. He has learned his lesson, and will hopefully not treat you ill again. Now that this has been dealt with, I expect him to treat you with the courtesies that you deserve. However, I also hope that you will not bear a grudge against Lor. He is not a bad person, he simply misjudged my orders in this case. His help at numerous occasions has been invaluable, and I plan to use him again for whatever mission I see fit. Once we’ve established what kinds of talents you possess, I might ask him to teach you some of his own special powers. But let’s not worry about this now, we’ll have enough time to discuss such things when the time to do so has arrived. Today, I have a different thing to discuss with you.”

  He turned around and smile
d at me with his usual charm. With one arm, he beckoned me to sit down. Before he seated himself in his armchair, he poured two glasses of red wine and offered me one. Thankful, I took a big sip and felt the warming liquid run down my throat.

  “Healer Reaving has spoken to me about how your health is quickly improving. I have to say that I am extremely happy to hear this from him, as I was quite worried about you when you first came here. He has also told me that you have expressed an interest in learning more about his craft, which I am willing to support if it does not collide with your other studies, of which I will say more later. Of course, if he has misunderstood your interest, I won’t force you to learn something you have no mind for.”

  “Not at all, I would love to learn more about all the herbs he works with. He offered me a tour of his gardens and laboratory, which I would love to see if you would allow it.”

  “Do you feel strong enough then to leave your room?”

  I nodded. “Yes, thanks to Healer Reaving’s potions I have regained my strength faster than I thought possible. I have to admit, I am curious to see more of this place.”

  “Good, then I will tell the healer to show you around his workplace. Yet I hope you will understand that I would prefer if there is someone with you when you start exploring the castle. It is easy to lose one’s way in the many rooms and halls here, especially as many of them look the same. Also, you don’t know the customs and traditions of our country, and this might lead to misunderstandings with the inhabitants of this city. Therefore, I’d prefer if you limit your explorations to Healer Reaving’s work areas for now.”

  Even though I had hoped for the permission to move freely around the castle, I had to agree with Lassadar. I had no desire to get lost in an unknown place such as Gynt’s Keep.

  “Now that all this is settled, shall we start with our first lesson?”

  Eagerly, I agreed. I had been lazing around for too long, it was time to do something worthwhile once more.

  “So far, I only know a little of what talents you might have. Lor told me that you managed to move incredibly quickly in that travelling show of yours. Then, you put five men to sleep, and killed a sixth.” He paused, looking straight at me. There it was, the thing I had refused to think about for the past few weeks. I had killed, I was a murderer. I was no better than any common thug. It had not even been an act of self-defence. They had not threatened to kill me; they were only guarding me. They had only followed Lor’s orders. A wave of self-hatred slammed into me. I cringed at the thought of the pale man lying there on the grass, unmoving, his dead eyes looking up at the night’s sky. Had he had a wife, a family? Would anyone mourn him?

  “Eona.” He spoke my name softly, but firmly. Struggling to keep my emotions under control, I looked up at him, the pain showing in my eyes.

  “You did what you thought was right. You felt threatened, so you acted on that feeling. Am I not right?” I wanted to tell him that it had been an accident, that the power I had taken from the tree had overwhelmed me, that I had lost control. But somehow, I thought that Lassadar would think better of me if he thought that I had planned his death than that it had been out of my control. He believed in me having magical power, and telling him that I had not been able to use them properly that night might dampen the impression he had of me.

  “Listen to me. Let’s go back to the beginning. When did you first discover that you could do more than most other people?”

  It was about four years after Mara had found me. I was still a thin little girl, but now it was not from starvation, but from training. I had discovered my talent for acrobatics, and spent my days climbing up the poles of the circus tent, or, if we were on the road, the highest trees that I could find. Luca’s wife Aman had taught me to cartwheel and backflip, and it had become the company’s running joke that I would prefer walking on my hands rather than use my feet. One day, when we had just made camp outside the small town of Dolen, I was sitting alone in a sea of heather and yellow gorse. The show was not until later that night, and Luca had given me and some of the other younger members of the travelling family some time to use as we saw fit. The others had left on the search for a village pub to spend their few coins on, yet I had sought solitude, walking away from the camp, up a low hill behind the village. After sating my thirst at a small stream, I had sat down to enjoy the warm sunshine. Far beyond the endless heather fields were the foothills of the mountains that made up the border between the Plains and the Free Cities. On some of the high peaks, I could see patches of white snow while other lower hills were covered completely in dark green forest. There were fluffy white clouds over the mountains, but from time to time a single ray of sunshine would break through and settle on the slopes as a small lake of gold. I let myself fall back onto the soft heather, looking up at the sky. Clouds were moving slowly in the wind, creating new shapes to look at. Around me, insect hummed and birds sang, and from time to time a blue butterfly crossed my field of vision. It was a fine day, and I rejoiced in its simple beauty.

  I must have fallen asleep because the groping hands on my body were the first thing I noticed when I woke up. I opened my eyes, only to find a man’s face bent over my own. He was bull-necked and muscular, his turgid cheeks wore traces of too much drink, his beard was unkempt and sprawling across his face. He was smiling at me, while one hand slipped under my shirt.

  “Stay still, little girl, I’m not going to hurt you.” His breath stank of beer and I leant my head back to escape his foul odour. His hand was feeling its way around my chest. He pinched my skin, hurting me. His other hand went down to my skirt, trying to pull it down. I screamed and tried to jump up, but his weight was pushing me down. My legs were kicking him, but he just put one large hand on them and I could no longer move. “Stop fighting me”, he said impatiently and used one hand to slap me in the face. My head flew to one side, my cheek burning. I saw stars before my eyes and nausea overcame me. I must have stopped fighting, because suddenly he was lying on top of me, his weight pressing me down onto the heather plants. In one last effort to get rid of the horrible man, I managed to get one hand free from under him and pulled at his beard. He cried out, and once again slapped me in the face. This time, a bright light shot through my vision and reality vanished.

  When I woke, my body was screaming in pain. My left cheek was swollen, my muscles hurt from fighting the man and there was a heavy weight lying across my legs. Carefully, I opened my eyes and looked around me. A peculiar sight awaited me. I was not alone, the man was still there, yet he was unmoving, half-bent over me. His face was a mask of rage, frozen somehow. Not a single muscle was twitching in his face. It looked like he was suspended in time. I scrambled to get away from under him, but after crawling a few ells, I turned back to look at him. He had not moved since. It seemed an awfully uncomfortable position to be in, half-bent, almost falling over, but I was not pitying him. On the contrary, I enjoyed imagining his pain. While staring at him, there was another thing I noticed. Where I had lain on the heather, it had turned brown and dried, as if time had skipped a season and winter had arrived early. I could even see where my arms and legs had been. And while I was looking, more and more of the heather turned brown. The tiny yellow gorse flowers withered and fell to the ground. The brown blotch turned bigger and bigger. It looked so unnatural, that I began to run away from this strange place, ignoring the pain between my legs.

  A shiver ran over me. I had thought this memory lost, hidden away in the deepest corners of my mind, yet here it was, as painful as before. I had never shared this memory with anyone before, and I would not do so today. I cleared my throat, deciding how much to tell Lassadar.

  “I must have been eight or nine when it first happened. Someone had threatened to hurt me, and suddenly time stood still around me. He just stopped, frozen, unmoving. At first, I did not understand what had happened. I thought there was something wrong with him, I couldn’t imagine me being the source of this power. But I noticed that the plants around me ha
d turned brown, that they had died while I was defending myself. It took years for me to make that link.”

  “Nine is quite a young age to discover one’s powers. Lor was almost thirteen when it happened to him, and that’s the usual age, around the beginning of puberty.” He stopped, lost in thought. I took the time to drink some more of the wine he had offered me. It had grown warm, yet it was still delicious. During our travels, we would drink water from streams and rivers, sometimes mixed with elderflower syrup Mara had made. Only in the evenings, when we were camped near towns or villages, we might go for a pint of ale in the local pub. Wine was something that was reserved for special occasions.

  “So you used the energy of plants to fuel your magic. That’s very … unusual.” He said the last word as if he’d never thought of such a way before. “Can you do anything without tapping the life force of plants?”

  “I don’t think so. I can do some basic things, like using my mind to feel around me, but only for a short while, until my energy is depleted.”

  “That is only to be expected if you are falling back to using the energy of plants each time you’re using magic. Being able to draw strength from yourself is like a muscle that has to be trained. The more often you do it, the more energy you will have to spend. So before we can start doing anything more substantial, you need to practice using your own energy. I want you to do this at least twice a day. This is not about learning anything new, so do something you’re good at.”

  He smirked. “Although I would prefer it if you were not to make my servants fall asleep, they’re managing this fine by themselves. Do what you did at your travelling show, moving as fast as lightning. I must admit, I’m intrigued by how you do that, but I will be patient. First, we need to increase your resources, then we can start with teaching you new skills and improving the ones you already possess. I know this might seem boring to begin with, but it’s a necessary chore. Soon, we will be able to start with small exercises, like lighting a fire with the force of your mind alone, or creating water from thin air. Then, once these things feel easy and natural to you, we will move on to more substantial tasks. Once you get to a certain level, I will ask Lor to teach you his speciality, the control of the mind. But I have to warn you in advance, not many magicians ever reach this level of proficiency. There are only a handful that are as capable as Lor, and even less that have reached my stage of control. But don’t let that discourage you. I think you will be able to do well, once you’ve learned to reach the energy sources within yourself.” He paused, letting all this sink in. It was overwhelming to think of the possibilities he had just offered me on a silver plate. How had I earned Lassadar’s benefaction? Was there a price to pay that I did not yet know?