Heart of Farellah: Book 1

by Brindi Quinn

  “What shall we do?” Scardo looked over his shoulder tensely at the creature. It squelched in response.

  Rend shot a ball over her head back at it, but it dodged her blow.

  “We need a plan!” I said.

  I hurriedly scanned my memory for an ariando that could be of use. The anemone could dodge projectile magic attacks, and physical attacks would just be bounced off.

  Think! Think! “We need some kind of area magic attack!” I concluded, still scanning my memory.

  “Do you know any?” Nyte looked at me hopefully, urgency in his eyes.

  “I’m thinking!” If only I could keep them all straight!

  “Think faster!” spat Rend, trying another light ball.

  “Aura!” Kantú pleaded at me.

  Their pressure wasn’t helping the situation.

  I’m trying here! I frantically searched my memory until –

  “Wait!” There was something. An attack Miss Dance had mentioned. But would I be able to cast a second song while still holding the orb from my lightsong? And could I even remember all of the words?

  ‘Ring of energy’ or was it ‘ring of power’? Frustrated with my harebrained memory, I decided to try whatever came naturally. I stole some of the energy I’d been using on the orb, and its light dimmed.

  Even so, I started the second song.

  “Ring of power surging through time,

  Endcalming ways, endcalming ways,

  Parting the path, surging the sign,

  Endcalming ways, endcalming ways.”

  I gritted my teeth in anticipation of the result.

  Magic wind swirled around me once again, and sweet relief poured over me when I felt the song begin to take shape. I looked behind me in time to see a yellow ring of mist rise up from the ground. It circled the walls of the tunnel just in front of the creature.

  Instinctively I pushed the ring toward it, unsure what would actually happen upon contact.

  The yellow mist moved towards the anemone, and for a moment it appeared to have no effect, but as the mist ring closed in on its base, the creature made a sickly squelch. The mouth closed, and the mist solidified into a strange putty that wrapped around the newly exposed eyeball. The anemone flailed and released its clutch on the walls.

  It fell to the floor.

  The party slowed their pace and turned to look at the flailing creature.

  “Get back!” I cried. I knew that something was about to happen, even though I didn’t know the specifics of the ariando.

  There was a loud crack, and the creature exploded as the putty dissipated into mist once more. The cloudy liquid from inside the eye erupted along with the body of the anemone, spraying the tunnel with sinewy flakes of clear, wet flesh.

  “Ugh!” Grotts crouched and covered his head.

  The rest of the group followed his example, falling to the floor protectively. I shielded myself from the falling anemone fragments, grateful that the song had worked, but regretting that it couldn’t have been less messy.

  The last of the anemone dripped down the walls of the tunnel, and I stood, at once feeling the extreme fatigue of using two songs at once. The light flickered, but I strained myself to push it brighter.

  “That was awesome!” Kantú wrapped her tail around my hip and flicked a piece of anemone from her ear.

  “What an absolute mess!” said Rend. She kicked a piece of appendage away and straightened up. But her words sounded blurred.

  I was dizzy.

  “Miss Heart?” Scardo looked at me with concern in his eyes.

  I started to rock.

  “I’m fine-” I protested, but the light flickered, and I continued to sway. Two songs had been too much. I couldn’t hold on any longer. I teetered.

  I’m falling . . .

  Someone warm caught me before I could slump completely to the floor.

  “Most worrisome captive . . .” Nyte’s tender voice faded into silence as I folded under the weight of the song.

  Chapter 9: The Exchange

  It was dark.

  “Aura Rosh?” Someone whispered my name.

  I was lost on the edge of consciousness, drifting. Was I falling asleep, or was I waking?

  “Are you finally awake?”

  “I don’t want to leave the meadow,” I muttered.

  The ‘someone’ laughed gently. “I was afraid you would not wake up this time.” The ‘someone’s mouth was close to my ear, its voice hushed.

  I opened my eyes. The moon was staring back. No, it wasn’t the moon; it was two moons.

  Hmmm? I blinked. They weren’t moons, they were eyes, and the moon was reflecting in them perfectly. The ‘someone’ laughed again. The moon? That meant we were back outside.

  The moons were green. “Nyte?”

  He nodded. “You were sleepwalking again.”

  “I was?”

  “You were.”

  I looked around. We were indeed outside. The western moon’s pink beams illuminated our two small tents. It appeared we’d made camp in the middle of a field.

  “We made it out of the tunnel?”

  “A few hours after you fell unconscious we reached the first exit of the tunnel. We passed it and continued on until we reached an area that was sealed off by a powerful enchantment. While Rend and I were able to proceed, no one else in the party could cross. We had no choice but to backtrack and take the first exit.”

  “A few hours? I’ve been asleep for a few hours?”

  He looked concerned. “Try a few days.”

  A few days?! Had the strain of using two songs at once really been that great?

  “It’s really been that long?” I looked around the field. “Where are we now?” There weren’t any discernible landmarks.

  “Northern Rendalt. We will travel around the desert and then cut east and head to Abardo . . .” His voice trailed. “I was so worried . . .”

  Why did he look so pained?

  You were that worried about . . . me?

  My face flushed under his lingering eyes, but unwaveringly I stared back, longing to comfort the pain I’d inexplicably caused him.

  “I’m sorry.” I started to bring my hand to his face, but stopped halfway at the sound of someone shuffling out of the closest tent.

  “Nyte, it’s time for my shift . . . Miss Heart!” Scardo came slithering out for patrol. “You’re awake! We were incredibly worried!” He grabbed my shoulders and began another examination.

  Nyte looked away, embarrassed by my almost touch of comfort.

  If only Scardo hadn’t interrupted. What would have happened? Those green eyes . . . My heart raced just thinking about them. Why? I couldn’t understand why he had such an effect on me.

  Scardo stopped his inspection, satisfied that I was in one piece, and said, “Miss Heart, I insist you rest until morning. You might be awake, but you are far from ready to travel.” He bowed low.

  “It’s Aura.”

  Nyte smirked. “Yes, Miss Heart,” he said, reverting to his normal, sarcastic self, “you must return to bed at once.”

  I scowled at the pair of them before reluctantly returning to the tents.

  Those green eyes . . . Why?

  ~

  At the new dawn we traveled farther south. The terrain was uneven and grassy, though the grass was short and weedy and unlike the long swaying grasslands of Carouth. Farmhouses much larger than the small cottages of Farellah dotted the landscape, but we went out of our way to avoid the towns to which they belonged.

  Now that we were out of the tunnel, Grotts and Kantú day-dreamed grandiose plots of catching the brown bunnalies that hopped the grass, in hopes of eating meat once again. Scardo offered up his bow, but Rend threatened that anyone who tried to shoot it would be bound before the arrow left the quiver. Our stock of fruit was starting to wear thin, and Nyte informed us that we’d need to gather more supplies soon.

  “Can we get some bread or cheese or something when we do?” Kantú looked up at m
e for agreement. She hadn’t released my arm since earlier that morning when she’d discovered I’d awoken from my long slumber.

  “Or some spring nuts?” I grinned at her.

  “We should reach the dry prairielands tonight,” said Scardo, shielding his eyes from the blinding mid-morning sun as we passed yet another lonely, wooden windmill. “We should stop somewhere before then to restock.”

  “Aww, I like it here. It’s nice and sunny and open. Can’t we just go around the prairie?” Kantú spun to prove her point.

  “It would be far out of the way to do such a thing,” said Rend. “What a foolish question.” She was bitter as usual, and I suspected my awakening had only added to her irritation.

  Kantú stuck out her tongue. “Well, how am I supposed to know that?!” She chittered angrily. “One of these days you’re gonna wake up to a tail smothering-”

  I cupped her mouth.

  “The prairie’ll be real sunny and real open,” said Grotts, seeking to comfort his Squirrelean friend.

  She mumbled something through my cupped hand, but I didn’t release her because her tail’s swishing informed me that she was still fuming.

  “Where should we stop for supplies?” said Nyte. “Scardo, you know this terrain better than any of us. Where would the safest place be?” He glanced at me.

  Always the liability.

  “Probably Cana,” said Scardo. “It’ll be on the way if we veer east.”

  I noticed then that one of the wilted effulgence flowers had taken up residence in the hunched man’s front pocket, replacing the rose of debt he’d given me.

  Just in case? I wondered if he expected to be indebted to someone else on our journey.

  “Cana it is then,” said Nyte.

  The sun felt good after being cooped up in the dark tunnel. I allowed its rays to seep into me.

  That warmth . . .

  I looked over at Nyte. He was making large strides next to Rend. The pair of them treaded easily across the grass, much like the zebron we’d encountered in Carouth.

  “Aura,” whispered Kantú.

  “Hm?” I quickly shifted my gaze to her.

  She was looking up at me intently. The corner of her mouth twitched.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Are you in love with Nyte?”

  Her words hit me squarely in the jaw. I stared at her dumbstruck before scrambling to answer.

  “W-what? No! Of course not!”

  She chittered hysterically at my response. She derived a sick pleasure from planting such thoughts in my head.

  In love with . . . Nyte? I contemplated the notion a little too long, and the plotting Squirrelean smiled mischievously, satisfied with my belated response.

  “Quit . . . screwing . . . with . . . my . . . head!” I lunged at her, and she ran away chittering. I raced after her through the stubby grass.

  “Ahhh! Grottsy, help me!”

  The rest of the group turned to us with varying degrees of puzzlement.

  “For people on the run, you certainly do not know how to behave discreetly!” Rend readied her hands.

  Kantú halted abruptly at the sight of them, and I bumped into her. We both fell down laughing. Nyte looked amused, but I wondered what he’d think if he knew the origin of our scuffle.

  In love.

  Grotts raised a brow at Scardo. “At least she’s back up an’ runnin’.”

  From there, it took us several hours to reach the small, dusty town of Cana. The staggered farms grew closer and closer together until finally culminating in a cluster of wooden buildings centered around one lonely dirt-road.

  “It would be best if you revealed nothing about yourself, Miss Heart. You never know who may be listening,” said Scardo.

  “Do you not think we should do something about her hair?” asked Nyte.

  I had to admit, its silvery quality was sure to attract at least a little interest.

  Rend smiled evilly. “We could cut it off.”

  No thanks.

  “A hood?” I offered.

  “A hood would only serve to make you stand out in these parts,” said Scardo. “How about this?” He pulled out a white kerchief made of dandrill.

  “That should work,” I said. I took the soft kerchief and wrapped my hair in it. “How’s that?”

  Kantú nodded. “Looooooks great!” She jumped into the air. “Let’s go!”

  We entered the town that barely qualified as a town. Cana’s cluster of buildings turned out to be a pub, a mercantile, an abandoned shop, and a dark-windowed ‘inn’, that looked way sketchier than any inn I’d ever seen. I imagined it a place where many ill-happenings occurred, though I couldn’t say for certain what those ill-happenings might entail. A sleazy woman in a tattered, red dress sat outside the door waiting to welcome her guests, which were most certainly all male.

  There were no souls walking the stretch of dusty road running the center of town, but there were a few old men sitting outside the storefronts, as dust-covered as the town itself.

  One of them whistled a lively tune that was out of place in the shabby setting. It seemed he’d taken a liking to Kantú, for he shot her a one-toothed grin when we walked by, to which she responded by snuggling up closer to Grotts.

  The entire town was basked in an orange afternoon glow, making it feel warm despite its otherwise lifeless quality. The sun was hanging lower in the sky now that we were leaving the northern Westerlands, and it cast long shadows behind our walking posse.

  Scardo and Nyte stood on either side of me, taking their places as my protective guard. It was strange to be thought of as a fragile thing that needed protection. I still felt like the same unqualified songstress. Would I ever get used to it?

  We headed toward the mercantile. Our shadows meshed together into one as we curved. I hoped that the atmosphere of the rest of the town wasn’t an indication of its selection of food, but I strongly suspected such might be the case.

  “Rend and I will remain outside to keep watch,” said Nyte when we reached the wind-eroded mercantile door. He glanced over his shoulder uneasily at the toothless man that was still staring at Kantú.

  “That’s a good idea.” Scardo followed Nyte’s gaze.

  “Get fruit,” ordered Rend, slitting her eyes in threat.

  Kantú and I followed the two men into the mercantile. The door was on a spring and it swung shut quickly, narrowly missing Kantú’s tail. The store was dim and dingy, and it felt like I was back in the Orolian’s underground dwelling. I scanned the dust-coated shelves that lined the small store. My hopes of food variety quickly faded when my eyes beheld their nearly bare state.

  “Hello?” called Grotts.

  At first there didn’t appear to be anyone inside, but a shuffle alerted us to a young boy with dark brown freckles in a dirty, oversized coat standing behind the counter.

  Is he seriously in charge? I scanned the store, but there was no one else.

  “What can I get ya, Buck? If ya ain’t buyin’, then get out!” The boy’s demeanor was surprisingly brash. He wiped his nose on his much-too-long coat-sleeve, and waited for us expectantly.

  Scardo took no offense at the boy’s rudeness. It made me wonder if this was a natural occurrence in the mid-region.

  “We’re here to restock our food supply,” he said, sticking out his long neck and peering about the sparse shelves.

  “Back there.” The boy pointed to the far corner of the store.

  Grotts raised a red brow at him before following Scardo to the back corner.

  The boy eyed us suspiciously. “Ya sure are a weird bunch. What’s your story?”

  “Ah . . .” I giggled nervously.

  “Eh, doesn’t matter. Don’t get many strangers around here.” He stood on his tiptoes and peeked over the counter at Kantú’s prized tail. “You one of them squirrel folk?”

  “Why yes I-”

  “I thought your kind was supposed to be barbaric and stuff.” He wrinkled his nose – like she
was some filthy creature that might attack him at any moment.

  Kantú’s mouth dropped. “Why you!” She shook her fist at the boy, and her ears twitched savagely. She wasn’t doing much to make a case for herself.

  Keep calm. We have to stay under the radar.

  “Are you looking after the store for your parents?” I asked, pushing away the fuming Kantú.

  The boy threw his head back and burst out laughing. “My parents? Now I’ve heard ‘em all!”

  “Huh?” I cocked my head.

  “This here’s my shop. Bought it myself.” He struggled to compose himself in the aftermath of the wild guffawing.

  “But you can’t be more than a decade old!” I blurted the words, not really considering they might be offensive.

  But they were, and the small boy became furious.

  “You some kinda ageist?!” He pounced onto the counter and folded his arms. It was an ironic allegation, coming from someone so obviously racist.

  “No! No! It’s just quite incredible, that’s all.” I waved my hands to shake off the accusation. Keep a low profile.

  “Oh.” The boy crawled back behind the counter. “Yup! I’m the youngest entrepreneur in Cana. And I got a prime piece of real estate.”

  Prime? The word didn’t accurately describe anything I’d encountered thus far in Cana.

  “You just wait. Someday this’s gonna be a booming town, and I’ll be at its center. I’m even gonna start carrying weapons soon!” He looked at me proudly.

  Weapons!? I nearly fainted at the boy’s gumption. Kantú was still fuming in the corner, and I decided to use her as an excuse to escape the bewildering encounter.

  “Kantú, did you hear that? Weapons. Isn’t that something?” I ran to the corner and shook the angry Squirrelean.

  But something caught my eye through the barred window just behind her.

  It was . . . Nyte? That was to be expected, I suppose, but the interesting thing was that he was talking to someone in a dark-colored robe a ways down the road, and that ‘someone’ wasn’t Rend. In fact, Rend was nowhere to be seen.

  So much for them standing guard at the door. Who is that?