Fire Heart

by Dan Avera

  Leyra, as always, was silent and macabre. She rode atop a massive horse—one conjured for her by the Dark Forest specifically to match her size—surrounded by her men, with her ever-present axe resting on one shoulder like a lance. Her man Vulf rode next to her, his eyes constantly vigilant and his face a blank, emotionless mask. His hands played restlessly across the haft of his poleaxe, though, betraying anxiety amid his perceived calm. Will saw Leyra reach out and touch him gently on the shoulder, however, and he relaxed instantly. They shared a brief, silent smile before looking away.

  And then there was Borbos. Will's heart went out to the Sea Lord every time he looked at him; the Titan's face, normally exuberant and playful, looked drawn and sallow in the dim light of the torches the soldiers carried. There was rage in his blue-green eyes, rage that frightened Will with its intensity. But there was also an intense sadness there, and Will could only imagine what was going through Borbos' troubled mind.

  He's worried for his people. Spirits, it must be terrible for him. He probably feels like I did when Clare was...

  The thought came to a shrieking halt in his head, and the sadness inside him that had been ebbing and flowing like the tide suddenly washed over him once more. Clare... He tried to force her from his mind, but as always the attempt was futile. Even when she wasn't there, she continued to torment him. I was so sure, he thought dully. I was so sure she felt the same way. Is this my sick fate? To never find love unless the one I find doesn't want me?

  “Will,” Castor said beside him, “your dark mood is scaring me. I've never seen you like this. What in the name of the Void is wrong with you? And don't say it's Borbos' city again, because I knew you were lying last time and I'll know it again.”

  Will turned his head slightly and attempted to banish the sadness. “Is it that obvious?” he asked, chagrined.

  Castor nodded, his lion-head helm making the gesture look something like a formal challenge among beasts. Will's gaze fell away and he sighed, but Castor said nothing, apparently waiting for an explanation.

  “I...” Will stopped. Should he tell Castor? He knew the man loved him like a brother, so what would happen if Will told him about Clare? He didn't want to risk any infighting, especially not for his sake, and he certainly didn't want to see Clare ostracized simply because his feelings were hurt.

  He closed his mouth, and then shook his head. “Sorry,” he murmured. “It's nothing. Don't worry about it.”

  “But I am going to worry about it, Will,” Castor hissed. “For one, we're about to head into battle, and your head needs to be clear. You're the Dragon King now—you're important, much more so than any of us. What happens if you lose focus, hmm?” He scrubbed at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger in exasperation. “Will, I'm your friend. You can tell me when something is wrong.” He was silent for a moment, and then, to Will's surprise, he asked, “Is it Clare?”

  Will gave him a quick, sidelong glance. “What makes you say that?”

  “You're completely bonkers for her. Thanks for confirming that, by the way. So?”

  Will shook his head in defeat. “I told her how I felt,” he said quietly.

  “And?” Castor asked expectantly.

  “She couldn't even speak to me. She just stared with this terrified expression on her face.” He pressed his knuckles into his forehead until it began to hurt. “Death and damnation, Castor, I thought she felt the same way.”

  Castor cocked an eyebrow, and for a short time seemed at a loss for words. “Er,” he said finally, “I thought so too. So did Katryna.” He scratched the back of his neck. “You're sure she wasn't just speechless from joy?”

  “If that was joy, I'd hate to see her upset.” Will ran his fingers through his hair and let out a deep breath. “I just thought...” I thought she might be the Phoenix Empress. I thought she would feel like I did. He shook his head and did not finish his sentence. Serah had told him that when he met her, he and the Phoenix Empress would simply feel right—like their souls would be suddenly complete. Had he mistaken feelings of lust for those of love? Had it all just been some great cosmic joke, where he was at the butt of it?

  “Maybe she's afraid, Will.” The voice came from behind them, and they both turned in the saddle to see Katryna riding a short distance away. She urged her horse into a trot and came up alongside Will.

  “Afraid?” Will asked, and then he covered his face with his hands. “Oh, Black,” he moaned. “You mean because of what I did to her?”

  “No, not that. What happened in Prado...I think she would do that again in a heartbeat, no questions asked. I mean she's afraid of spending her life with you.” Katryna touched him gently on the shoulder, and he looked at her. “I've been spending a lot of time with her, Will. I don't think she realized it, but she's been asking Asper an awful lot about what it was like to be with Feothon. I think...I think she's afraid of your immortality.” She gave a half-hearted chuckle. “I mean, I know I am. I keep imagining me old and you just the way you are. It's a bit disturbing.”

  The thought struck him like a blow to the head. How had that not crossed his mind before? But it did, a nasty little voice whispered in the back of his head. You just ignored it because you wanted her so badly, just like you convinced yourself she was the Phoenix Empress. Selfish bastard. Now look what you've done.

  He shook his head slowly, unable to formulate words, and his mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for water. Katryna's hand found his shoulder again, and she patted him gently, the gesture marred somewhat by the awkward distance between them. “I've been so selfish,” he finally whispered. “I was only thinking about what I wanted. Not about what she would have to go through to...” He closed his eyes softly and did not continue.

  “Will,” Katryna said softly, “stop it. Really—stop it right now.”

  Will waited for her to keep going, but she never did. “Why?” he finally asked. “This is my doing. Me and this stupid curse they call a gift. Where's the point in living forever if you can't spend it with...” He trailed off and simply shook his head with a resigned sigh.

  They had nothing else to say to him. He had been half-hoping they would; some sort of insightful knowledge or divine revelation from on high would have been most welcome at that moment. But I'm the god here, he thought. And they've never had to deal with immortality in their lives.

  So instead he tried with limited success to forget about Clare for the moment, distracting himself by studying the strange flora and fauna all around him. He had never before heard of the odd furry creatures that hooted from the branches overhead, and looked disconcertingly like tiny humans with tails. Nor had he seen such trees in all his life—the strangest were tall, with upward-reaching scales of ragged bark and great, broad fronds for leaves. And they had enormous, round seeds the size of his head, their leathery skins covered in coarse hair...

  Memory flashed through his mind, and for an instant he was back in the clearing where he had first met Clare, and she was telling him about the palm trees that lived along the Westland coast. Clare...

  He curled his hand into a fist and pounded it heavily against his thigh. Rage bubbled inside of him. Why did I tell her? Death and damnation, why?!

  When the smell of burning metal reached his nose, his eyes widened in surprise and he looked down to see a small black scorch mark on his thigh armor. He took his hand away in embarrassment and tried to will himself to think about happy things. The anger died away, albeit slowly, and soon he was left with an empty pit in the bottom of his stomach. He rode on in silence as they moved away from the heart of the forest and into the light of the open day beyond, concentrating on the new and unfamiliar terrain rather than his personal woes.

  Soon the army had no more need of torches, and the flames were extinguished. The ground, Will noticed, became steadily softer, and soon the dirt gave way to sand. The vegetation thinned out and became less varied as well, and it was not long before the palm trees took over completely. And there was somethin
g different about the air, too. Will sniffed, confused—it smelled salty, briny. It was a scent he had never experienced before, and it intrigued him.

  Soon the light of day shone clearly through the sparse canopy, and alien creatures flitted and jumped about, screeching and singing at the army that marched below them. Will had never been to such a colorful place, and he delighted in the myriad palette of organisms laid out before him. There were birds with great bills that were colored like the rainbow, and lizards that clambered sluggishly among the leaves and branches, blending in with the foliage to become nearly invisible to the unwary eye.

  The air was cooler, too; it was still very warm, but the constant breeze rolling in from ahead of them was far milder than anything the Southlands had to offer. And there was that smell again—what was that? And that sound, too—like cannon fire so distant that Will could only just hear its aftershocks.

  The treeline broke abruptly as though halted by an invisible barrier, and Will could only stare in amazement.

  They had entered a dream world, one which could not possibly exist. It didn't make sense—where the vegetation ended, the white sand took over and spread out in a field for leagues to either side, with the line of palm trees following suit. But what Will absolutely, positively could not get his mind around was the water that began a short distance away, where the sand ended just as abruptly as the trees had. The water seethed and roiled like a living thing, throwing its weight up the shore in an unending and futile attempt to leave itself behind in a white froth. It boomed and crashed as it slammed into the sand, and hissed as it trailed back, coiling in on itself for another attempt at freedom.

  And the size—spirits above, the size! Will had never in his life seen anything so vast—even the rolling dunes of the Kahara desert had sparse, rocky mountains in the distance, but this great field of water simply had no end. It went off forever into the distance, a great blanket of white-capped waves the color of Borbos' eyes that disappeared beneath the gently curving arc of the horizon. Will gaped, spellbound by its majesty.

  “Gefan's balls,” Katryna whispered beside him, and then she was laughing, her face as gleeful as a child's. “Are you seeing this?” she cried. “Castor, Will—tell me I'm not going mad. What is that thing?”

  Will smiled softly at yet another memory, and resisted with difficulty the urge to look around for Clare. “It's the sea,” he said softly. “Clare told me about it. It goes on forever, until the world ends.”

  “Not quite,” said a thickly-accented voice behind them, and Will turned to see Borbos, a look on his face that was very much akin to theirs. “But it does go on for a very long time.”

  “I...I've never seen anything so beautiful,” Castor finally managed to say, breaking his silence. “Lord Borbos, this is...”

  “Incredible?” the Titan finished with a soft smile. “And please, Lord Commander, it be just Borbos to you.”

  “Dismount!” Feothon called ahead, breaking the spell and drawing Will back into the present, where he had responsibilities far more important than ogling the scenery. He joined suit as every rider stepped off their horse, and his boots thudded softly into the sand—yet another feeling that, while not entirely alien, was strange to someone who had grown up on the hard-packed earth of the Southlands.

  As he held his steed's reigns and stroked its neck, he wondered briefly where the animals would go. “The forest will provide for our mounts until we return,” Feothon called, answering his unspoken question, and the Titan ran his hand lightly along his stallion's flank. The horse seemed to know what he meant, for it turned without hesitation and entered the palm forest once again, the dense foliage swallowing it up instantly. Soon a herd's worth of horses was following the stallion's lead, and only humans were left on the hot sand.

  Will looked around, telling himself unconvincingly that he was not looking for Clare. “She's over there,” Katryna said softly, interpreting his action for what it really was, and pointed to his left. Clare was standing a short distance away with Hook—something that surprised Will, considering the two had never really been formally introduced. But there they stood, neither of them talking—the absence of a tongue was something of a hindrance to formal conversation—with Hook carefully examining the melted-wax scar on her hand. Will always found it strange that Hook was, in fact, a talented healer. The man could sew a sword wound back together almost as fast as he could create one, and his knowledge of herbs and medicines never ceased to surprise Will.

  Seeing him there, though, holding Clare's hand gently in his own, sent a pulse of jealousy through his veins. He stamped it out a moment later, silently berating himself for such a ridiculous reaction.

  Should I go over there? Will wondered. Will she even want to talk to me?

  He decided against it. She did not seem upset, and he didn't feel like changing that by saying something stupid. Instead he turned to Borbos, who by that time had started marching toward the shore with his buccaneers in tow. Caleeta, the woman Will had met only fleetingly before, marched resolutely beside him with a similarly dark expression.

  “Borbos,” Will called, and the Titan turned to him.

  “Aye, lad?”

  Will gestured expansively at the vast sea before them. “Where exactly is your city, again?”

  Borbos pointed toward the west, out over the churning waves. “You cannot see it yet, but it be there.”

  Will nodded slowly. “Right...and, ah, not to sound conceited or anything but...how are we going to get there?”

  Borbos smiled softly, his tanned skin crinkling around the corners of his mouth, and turned around without a word. By then nearly everyone else had gathered into a single massive group, and though there was some scattered conversation most of them seemed to be waiting on Borbos as well.

  Borbos walked out to the edge of the shore where the water lapped softly at his boots, and as soon as he touched it his entire bearing seemed to change; his body slackened, relaxed, and he seemed suddenly at ease—Will even heard him breathe a contented sigh. The Titan tilted his head back and took his tricorn hat off, letting the sun hit him in the face. “A good day for sailing,” he murmured, his voice barely audible above the waves—which, Will noticed with a start, were rapidly increasing in magnitude.

  The water around Borbos' feet was suddenly much deeper; it boiled around his calves in little pools of bubbles that swirled and churned as the tide swept in and pulled away, growing in volume with each subsequent push.

  And then Will saw, far out in the distance, what appeared to be the beginnings of a pair of unbelievably massive whirlpools. The sea seemed to sink in on itself as though its bottom had simply fallen away, and then the water between the swirling vortexes began to bulge. Borbos was waist-deep in the sea now, though he had not moved, and Will watched with complete fascination as a massive wave crashed atop the Titan—and failed to move him even a finger's breadth.

  There was a deep, low groan then, one that reverberated across the waves and up through the sandy shore, shaking Will to his very bones and making the ground tremble beneath his feet. “What the—?” he whispered, and suddenly the ground was bucking and jerking. He threw his arms out to the sides to keep his balance, and everyone around him, he saw, was engaged in a similar dance. Everyone, that was, except for Borbos.

  The groan came again, louder this time, and now it was accompanied by a dull explosion—the sound of countless gallons of water being thrown into the air, and then crashing down again with a rippling, thundering roar. The ground shook again, and a great blast of misty air rushed toward the shore, buffeting Will and whipping his hair back across his scalp. He blinked to clear the water out of his eyes, and then froze, gaping stupidly.

  There was...something in the sea—something so huge that it dwarfed anything Will had ever seen before. His mind refused to accept the idea of a living creature so vast, and yet there it sat before him, plain as day, and only its chitinous, mottled hump of a back broke through the surface. Somehow,
Will knew that what he was seeing was only the tip of something much larger; the rest of the creature must still have been concealed beneath the waves.

  His first sensation was one of complete shock. This, however, was followed shortly by a strong burst of fear, and he stumbled back so quickly that he tripped in the sand and fell on his backside with a soft thump. He was faintly aware of a chorus of similar reactions all around him. Only the Titans and their most trusted warriors stood unafraid and unaffected by the enormous creature, and Borbos even began to wade farther out into the sea.

  Then the water began to tremble and bulge once again, this time in a long, thick line that led from the creature all the way to the shore. It ultimately culminated in a frothing vortex a mere few paces from where Borbos stood calmly in the surf, unaffected as always by the battering force of the sea.

  It was a leg, or a giant claw—Will could not be sure which with the water streaming off of its armored, barnacled surface, but he was certain that it was one of the two. It rose ponderously from the waves, its surface covered in long streamers of kelp and little crabs that scuttled madly for cover. Fish flopped along its length, gasping briefly for water before flipping themselves clumsily back into the sea.

  By then the leg—it was a leg, Will realized as its narrow, pointed tip broke through the surface and settled with a dull thud into the sand at Borbos' feet—had almost completely left the sea behind, and it ceased its heavy, grating movements and went still. The creature gave another long, deep groan, and Borbos reached out with a smile to pat its armored carapace.

  “We are ready to leave, Feothon,” he called, and Will blinked in amazement. Was that the City in the Waves? A city made entirely from one giant sea creature?