Heart of Farellah: Book 1

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Heart of Farellah: Book 1 Page 28

by Brindi Quinn


  “Good morning, sleeping head!”

  “Kantú?” I sat up. I was in a small bedroom with finely crafted dark-wood furniture and elegant drapes made of that strange sylk material I’d seen in Toll Garrich’s collection of wares.

  My head was aching.

  “Here ya go! Darch said this will make you feel better.” Kantú handed me a small glass vial. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning over me.

  “Darch? What did that guy do to me?” I sniffed the liquid. Brandy?

  I took a sip. “Blegh!”

  Kantú giggled at the face I made.

  “How long?” I asked, trying to forget the bitter taste.

  “Hm?”

  “How long was I out this time?”

  “Oh, just the night and morning.” She brushed the hair away from my forehead.

  “That’s good at least. I was worried it was a week or something. And what happened, exactly?”

  “Well, as it turns out, the feather la-, er feather man was putting a bit of a strain on you.”

  “Feather MAN?” I nearly spit out the second swig of brandy.

  She gave me a few vigorous head shakes and rambled,

  “Apparently, he’s one of the ancients or something and I guess that Squirreleans are specially equipped to handle stuff like that, but Sapes aren’t, and so when he decided to communicate with you directly, it put a real strain on your body and stuff. Were you feeling sick or anything?”

  “Sick? Not really . . . Wait, he’s an ancient? What does that mean?”

  “Um, I’m not really sure. But he’s an Elf or something that crossed through the Mistlands a long time ago, and supposedly, if they’re powerful enough, they can leave a piece of their spirit in an animal, and well, since I’m a teensy bit animal, it worked on me too!”

  “How did it know about us? Why was it helping us? I don’t get it.”

  “Me neither!” She scrunched her face.

  “So what did Darch do about it?” I’d have to save my more in-depth questions for the man himself.

  “He tried to get rid of him but then figured out that he’s a good ancient somehow, and so he pulled him out of you and put him back into me.”

  What the heck does that mean!?

  I fought my head’s spinning. “So, it’s okay now?” I’d keep it simple.

  “Yup, should be! I guess the Spirit of In-between is going to tag along for the rest of the mission or whatever.”

  If I hoped for things to get any less confusing, I’d have to wait, for just then there was a knock at the door.

  It was a pretty woman in a white bonnet with a delicate voice.

  “There’s someone here to see you, Miss Pure Heart.”

  Pure Heart? Great, another one of those.

  “Er, thanks, but you can just call me Aura.”

  The woman looked incredibly flustered at my statement. She dropped her eyes to the ground and shook her head before letting herself out with a curtsey.

  I sighed. “Is it too much to ask, Kantú? Really, is it?”

  Kantú chittered but composed herself when the door opened again. The person that walked through it was one of the people I least expected to see.

  “Hello, Miss Rosh. It’s been a while.”

  You are . . . I was speechless. No way. There was no way.

  Standing in front of me was Parnold Rekrap, the lined, pie-making blacksmith from Farellah. What in Farellah was he doing here, so far from home, and at a secret headquarters, no less? I stared at him rudely with mouth agape.

  He laughed. “You look so surprised. Do you honestly think the officers of Yes’lech would allow someone as important as you to grow up unguarded?”

  As important as me? I still couldn’t think of myself that way.

  “You’re . . . part of Yes’lech?” I strung the words together the best I could, still overcome with shock.

  “That’s right.” He sat down in a chair next to the door.

  “But that’s impossible!”

  “No, I assure you it is very possible. You see, we’ve had guards stationed at each of the songstress villages for decades, awaiting the coming of the Hearts, but when a songstress with starlight hair and midnight eyes was born in Farellah,” – his eyes lingered on my hair – “well, as you can imagine, we paid special attention. I was posted there, alongside Marbeck, who was already standing watch, to survey the situation.”

  “Marbeck Berfield’s with Yes’lech? But she’s the mayor’s mother!”

  My worldview was being dismantled right in front of me. Parnold thought it was funny. “She’s a feisty old girl,” he said. “You’d be surprised.”

  ‘Be surprised’? I already was. Enough to last the rest of my life.

  “You two were watching over me?” I said. “Were there others?”

  “Of course. Don’t you find it funny that in the years since your birth we’ve had exactly one traveling trader a year come through Farellah, and no one else?”

  Was it really that strange?

  “All of them were Yes’lech guards,” he continued, “coming to hear my annual report. They were the only ones allowed into the chosen of the closed cities.”

  Closed cities . . .

  “But I got in!” Kantú, who’d remained silent thus far, suddenly perked up.

  “Hm? Ah yes. Marbeck and I were quite concerned when you showed up.” He laughed. “We were sure you were a Druelcan spy at first. Though once we monitored you for a while, we realized you couldn’t possibly be that . . . complex.”

  “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” Kantú crossed her arms.

  Parnold studied her. “Still, you did make it through the barrier. That was very unexpected.”

  “Barrier?” I asked.

  “Yes. Farellah was already secluded to begin with, but once you were born, an Elven barrier was put up to stop unwanted company from entering. Unfortunately, Druelca had a spy within Yes’lech, and they used him to release the barrier. That’s how they managed to capture Illuma. After she was taken, we knew for certain that you were one of the Hearts, and we took extra precautions to ensure that Farellah remain cut-off. Kantú’s arrival gave us quite a stir; we’re still not certain how she managed to pull it off.”

  Kantú shrugged at me.

  “I don’t understand, though. What was Yes’lech planning to do with me? Keep me there and hope that Druelca stayed away? The villagers were all in danger with me there! Druelca could’ve come back and . . . and . . .”

  “The reinforced barrier ensured that the only way Druelca could have entered again was by releasing all of the seals placed around Farellah. That would mean they’d need cooperation from every one of Yes’lech’s officers. It was impossible.”

  “But Kantú got in! And what about Nyte and Rend?”

  “The seals were released on the night of the Rite of Discovery. I was planning to take you from there myself once your song was released.”

  So even without Nyte and Rend this was all unavoidable. That meant it was just by chance that Nyte had even come into my life. That by luck, we’d met.

  “Grotts and Scardo were to meet me outside of the village, but a tip from Elder Pietri made us change our plans.”

  “But you were at the Rite; I saw you! How did you beat us here? Were you on osterflit the whole way?”

  He shook his head. “Simple. I was inconspicuous. Why would Druelca think to stop a boring old man like me? I used the Road to Benro, where you were detoured. When you struggled to remain unseen, I traveled openly along the main trade routes. I made pretty good time.” He smiled.

  I sighed. “Sounds nice.” Still, Parnold Rekrap is in front of me right now at a hidden fortress. How could I fully wrap my head around that?

  “By the way, aren’t you wondering how your parents took the news when they found out you disappeared from that cave?” he asked.

  I felt like he’d dropped a boulder on me.

  Since leaving, I’d been pushing the topic away
every time it started to enter my head. I couldn’t bear to imagine my parents’ faces at losing another daughter. Were they okay? Of course they weren’t. But just how bad was it? Selfishly, I didn’t want to know.

  I diverted my eyes, ashamed. “Er, how are they?” My voice was meek.

  “They were pretty shocked at first, but they took the news surprisingly well. After all, she is your best friend.”

  My best friend? They took it well?

  Just what had Parnold told them? I wrinkled my forehead, and his mouth opened into a dirty smile.

  “I planted a note saying that you got cold feet, and that you and Kantú ran away together to visit her hometown.”

  The way he said it made me wary. He couldn’t mean . . . Together? Like . . . together, together?! “What do you mean ‘together’?” My eyes narrowed.

  “You dirty old man!” Kantú picked up one of my pillows and held it up menacingly.

  “Well, they bought it.” He laughed. “And so did the rest of the town.”

  “Really!? No way . . . That’s good, though, I guess.” Despite how ridiculous it was, at least they were spared for the time being.

  “Well, glad to see you made it in one piece anyway. Unfortunately, Marbeck had to stay behind and monitor things back in Farellah, so she won’t be here for the big event.”

  “Big event?”

  Parnold pointed at Kantú in accusation. “You haven’t told Aura yet?”

  At his prod, the forgetful Squirrelean looked as though she’d just remembered a great secret. “We’re having a ball!”

  “A ball? Like from a fairytale?”

  Kantú nodded and wiggled her hips like she was about to bounce on the bed. “In your honor!”

  Wait, what!? I wished I’d misheard her, but there was no mistaking it. She’d clearly said . . . “In my honor?! But is this really the time!?” My voice rose, but not from excitement. “Don’t we need to hurry?”

  I looked to Parnold. There had to be more important things to worry about. Not to mention, the thought of a dance where I was the guest of honor was something more nerve-wracking than I could even comprehend.

  It sounded like the worst thing ever. Why couldn’t everyone just treat me normally!? I’m normal! I’m normal! I choked the scream back.

  Parnold stood. “You have no idea how much you mean to Yes’lech. They’ve had preparations for this ball ready since before you were born. It’s a symbol of the Heart of Salvation’s arrival. The most important members will be in attendance.”

  “But the prophecy-!”

  “The path to the Inscription of Ulan is close, but it will not open until the full moon. You must wait here until then anyway. The celebration will not prolong departure in any way.”

  A celebration sounded so trivial with everything else going on. I stood up to protest more, but the blacksmith held up one of his worn hands.

  “The ball is tonight. Tomorrow morning the officers will hold a private meeting to share the secrets of Yes’lech with you. You will inherit all of the sacred knowledge, and with it will come great duty. I suggest you two enjoy yourselves tonight.”

  With that, he tipped his head and left.

  Was that really Parnold? Had that really just happened?

  After the door swung shut, I turned to Kantú, unsure where to start.

  “Can you believe it?” I asked, still trying to swallow everything. “Marbeck . . . Parnold . . .” I tried to push all thoughts of the impending ball away.

  “I know! I was shocked when I saw him wandering around last night; and get this,” – she leaned in like she had a juicy tidbit of gossip to share – “Parnold told me that Marbeck Berfield hid all of Farellah’s ancient documents a long time ago, so that everyone in the village would remain oblivious to everything. Isn’t that just mind-blowing?!”

  “Is that what they mean by ‘closed city’?”

  “I think so. He said they did it to all of the songstress villages.”

  My mind went back to the Elven story of creation: A special sect of the Sapes, to whom the Creator granted mystic powers, were placed in hidden villages scattered about the world.

  Hidden villages . . . closed cities . . . barriers . . .

  Everything I’d ever known had been a lie. The world wasn’t as separated as I’d thought. There were still people traveling and expanding and integrating. Why’d Farellah have to be left behind?

  That’s because of Druelca, isn’t it? Yes. This was all Druelca’s fault.

  But I didn’t understand why someone would want to bring ruin. Why wage war against the Elves? Why seal the records? Why take Illuma? Why make societies form in secret? Why take the side of evil? What did they have to gain from forcing people apart? What did they have to gain from allowing the world to be destroyed?

  The Mystress had no right. Even if I’d turned out to be the Heart of Havoc, never would I have released the Song of Destruction.

  I grew angry, hate-filled even, for the distant threat. Their actions were unpardonable!

  “Aura?” Kantú’s voice wavered at the sight of my stormy face.

  “Sorry. It’s just too much, and . . .”

  Never in my life had I felt true hatred until that moment, and it all welled up inside of me under the catalysts of so many things.

  “I hate her.” I whispered, shaking with fury.

  “Um, who?” Kantú’s tail swiveled nervously.

  “I hate . . . The Mystress.” A few angry tears started to slide down my cheeks.

  Kantú looked at me for a moment with her face scrunched, but then she jumped onto the bed and thrust her arm into the air. “Then let’s beat her!”

  My tears stopped at the sight of her standing on the bed holding her fist high and firm, nose upturned and ears erect. It was a pose of squirrely victory.

  Beat her? Beat The Mystress? It sounded like such a simple solution, but in reality there was nothing simple about it. But still . . .

  Yes, I will. I’ll take her down and bring all of Druelca down with her. I’ll save you, Illuma. I’ll save everyone. Farellah . . . you won’t need to hide anymore!

  Ears twitching, Kantú awaited my reaction.

  I took a deep breath. “Alright,” I said firmly.

  “Alright?” She wrinkled her forehead.

  I nodded. “Alright.” Then I hopped up on the bed next to her and copied her victorious pose. “Let’s do it!”

  “Aaaalright!” she said, jumping into the air.

  I followed the motion with a jump of my own. “Alri-” And started my most triumphant battle cry yet, but-

  “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

  “Wha!” Kantú and I spun around to see Darch standing in the doorway. Mortified, I fell back onto the bed, pulling Kantú down with me.

  He beamed an eager and excited smile. “At least you seem to be back up to optimum performance!” I laughed to cover up my embarrassment.

  He walked to the side of the bed, stretched out his arms, and grabbed my ears, as he had the previous night. “Ah, much better.” A content smile spread across his face. “How are you feeling?” He released me.

  “I’m fine. Thanks for getting rid of . . . whatever the problem was. Um, what exactly was the problem?”

  Kantú rubbed her opposite elbow and sheepishly looked away. “I couldn’t exactly remember everything you told me.”

  “That’s all right.” His voice was gentle. “Have you ever heard of Elder Nosrac of the Elves?”

  “The Elf that made the treaty with Druelca two centuries ago?”

  “Yes. It seems he’s taken a special interest with you two.” He took off his spectacles and started to clean them on the back of his shirt.

  “What?! Elder Nosrac is the feather lad- uh, the Spirit of In-between?”

  An important person like that? But I guess it sort of made sense. If anyone’s spirit was powerful enough to stay behind, it would be the man who ended the Druelcan conflict himself. But why the feathers?
>
  Darch nodded and let his gem-like eyes study me. “I understand why he’d be interested in you, Aura. May I call you that?” I nodded, and he fidgeted excitedly. “What I mean to say is I understand why he’d contact you, but I just don’t know why he picked Kantú to do it.”

  “I guess I’m just special!” She winked.

  “You might be right.”

  He pondered, and I used the opportunity to ask him something else that’d been bothering me.

  “Darch?”

  He wiggled at his name. “Yeah, Aura?”

  “Sorry about my ignorance, but what’s a Magir?”

  His eyes sparkled. “Me!” He pointed to his chest with both thumbs. “I’m not surprised you don’t know. Am I your first? Well, that’s just fantastic!”

  Kantú scratched her ear and gaped at him. “Are you a Sape or what?”

  “Kind of. I’m kind of like you actually. Daems are part Sape, part shadow, and Squirreleans are part Sape, part squirrel, right?”

  We nodded.

  “Well, I’m part Sape, part spirit.”

  “Part spirit?” I asked. People of spirit . . . Was this the fifth race Nyte had spoken of? I became just as intrigued as I had been at first mention of the people.

  “How do I explain?” continued Darch. “Basically, everyone is supposed to get one life to live, right? But sometimes the Creator gives a person a second life. Those people retain some of the memories from their first life and also have the ability to communicate with spirits and a whole other array of fancy tricks. Those are Magirs!”

  A second life? It sounded mystical and astounding and so many other things. “That’s great!” I said, now wholly enthused with the discovery.

  “You think so!?” Darch’s eyes shined brighter than I’d seen them yet.

  But Kantú wasn’t so accepting. “Wait!” she cried. “Were you born a full-grown man!?” She looked appalled.

  I let out a groan and hid one of my eyes behind my hand.

  Kantú, this might be your worst one yet.

  Darch had a funny expression on his face for a moment, but then he burst out laughing. “No! That’s a good one, though. I like you; you’re funny!” He couldn’t tell that she was completely serious.

  “Phew.” I uncovered my hand.

 

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