Heart of Farellah: Book 1

by Brindi Quinn

  My veins danced in response. It felt good. It felt so . . .

  But Ardette wouldn’t let it last. He reached out his saber and placed it at the side of Nyte’s neck.

  “You haven’t been cleared yet. Quite the contrary, I believe your words were, ‘I’m a Druelcan spy’, or something to that effect.” He narrowed his eyes. “Release her.”

  Nyte let me go, his expression stony.

  I was a member of Druelca. Those had been his words. What did it mean? Was. He had been but no longer? Was it normal that my feelings for him remained even after hearing something like that?

  “I can only tell you what I know.” Nyte was speaking to me.

  “We’re waiting,” said Ardette, still holding the saber at the Elf’s throat.

  Nyte sighed. “As a child, I was kidnapped by Druelca.”

  Kidnapped. I exhaled heavily. His participation with the corrupt organization hadn’t been voluntary.

  “At first, I was put through a training course with a handful of other children. That is where I learned the forbidden knowledge.”

  Things he shouldn’t know.

  “I tried to escape on several occasions, but their guard was too strong. Still, they did not hurt me. It seems they were trying to raise up warriors.”

  “So you just obliged, did you?” Ardette looked bored with the story.

  “No! I took in the sacred knowledge, but I knew I would never take their side. As I grew older, though, something happened.”

  “Puberty?” Ardette’s voice was droll.

  Nyte ignored him. “I started blacking out. First it was only an hour at a time, but then entire days went missing. I do not know what they did to me during those times.” Showing worry, he added, “Or what I did to others.”

  Torture a Squirrelean.

  “Nyte, that’s . . .”

  To be forced into something like that was just sadistic. What would it be like to live without knowing the blood on your own hands? To live a life completely in the dark – with a past shrouded in blackness?

  Not good, that’s for sure.

  I felt for him. I really, really felt for him, and I wanted to give him light. Somehow, I wanted to give him light!

  It’s okay, Nyte.

  “Then one day,” he continued, “I awoke in the middle of the forest, badly beaten and wearing a Druelcan cloak. Elder Pietri found me, but there were holes in my memory. I could not even tell him how I had gotten there. Thank Creator, he realized I was one of the lost children of Edaw and spared my life. The elder took me under his wing and shared the rest of the forbidden knowledge with me, but he never told me about Yes’lech.”

  “He just trusted you?” Ardette pursed his lips in suspicion.

  Nyte nodded. “I am grateful for that, although I still do not understand why.”

  I understood why. That trust.

  “But why did he command you to keep it hidden from us?” I asked. “You’re at no fault, as far as I can tell.”

  “That is because . . .” But Nyte paused when Ardette caught his glance.

  What is it?

  I wanted to know what the contents of the silver envelope had specifically instructed, but all that remained was a scattering of ash. What was that business about ‘her choice’? Their unspoken exchange left me wary. Even after all this, they were still keeping secrets!?

  “Even Rend does not know where I was during those years. The elder knew that with her power and my knowledge, we would be an aid in the journey to Yes’lech. My past would only create unnecessary distrust within the guard.”

  “Oh.” Was that really it? Then did ‘her choice’ mean ‘Rend’s choice’?

  Ardette lowered his saber. “Fine. But know I will tell the others what you have told us. I’ll leave that part out for now.”

  That part? So there was something else.

  “Very well,” said Nyte, “but please keep it from Rend.”

  “Wait!” I’d moved from confused to frustrated. “What aren’t you saying? Tell me!”

  Nyte shot me a look of sympathy, but it was Ardette who answered.

  “Nothing for you to worry about, my pit. Just minor technicalities that would only complicate things.”

  Complicate things? But his tone was firm, warning me not to belabor the issue.

  Ardette then turned to Nyte. “Just be warned that we’ll be watching you. If you try anything, I’ll pierce this,” – he held out his saber – “through your heart.” The tip of it caught the torch’s reflection and glinted threateningly.

  “I accept your terms,” said Nyte.

  “Joy. Now then, how distasteful. Cover yourself up, and let’s head back to that ball, shall we?”

  Nyte scowled, but started buttoning his shirt, tucking away the familiar pendant.

  I still couldn’t remember where I’d seen it before.

  “Back to the ball? Ugh.” The vision of the hungry crowd spawned my reluctance. “Do we really have to?”

  Ardette picked at a hangnail. “Wouldn’t want them to get worried, would we? Though, you can be sure that the high-and-mighty officers already know our whereabouts, which is why there has yet to be an outburst. Those prats are aware of everything that happens within these walls . . . even our kiss.”

  I winced. Of course. Of course he’d bring that up.

  Nyte stiffened, mid-button.

  “Tsk, tsk. Jealous are we? But don’t worry yourself. It was I who initiated; rather, I quite forced myself on her. Though, I daresay she enjoyed it.”

  The words did little to ease Nyte. Looking quite sinister, he dropped his hands, whitened his knuckles, and glared at Ardette.

  “You wish.” I brushed away the accusation, fearing for the Daem’s safety, but Nyte’s fists remained tight.

  “Well then, shall we?” asked Ardette, amused by the dismay he’d caused.

  “Bastard.” I mimicked Nyte’s earlier comment, and Ardette smiled widely.

  I sighed, put on my mask, and followed them through the winding corridor, glad to get out of the stuffy cell, even if the ball would be far stuffier.

  ~

  “I was worried about you!” Kantú ran to me when I entered the audience chamber that was still full of ogling, mask-covered faces. “What did that Pervy Irving do to you?”

  “Nothing,” I said tiredly.

  After the events of the night, I hardly felt like dancing. I slouched next to Rend, my face mirroring her own detest. As promised, Ardette asked Kantú to dance, and I suspected it was the happiest she’d ever been.

  I continued to observe the night, doing my best to answer any questions the Yes’lech members that managed to break through Scardo and Grotts’ guard threw at me. Nyte had disappeared to somewhere, most likely recovering from the night’s events, and I wished his return would be swift; I’d be much more comfortable with all of the commotion with him by my side.

  From across the room, I spotted Poe, who was standing in the shadows, and had an idea.

  “Scardo, do you dance?”

  “I beg your pardon, Miss Heart?”

  How could I put it?

  “Scardo, the Heart of Salvation has had a long day. It would be most pleasing if you would entertain me with a dance.”

  “A dance!?” Scardo looked fairly horrified.

  “That’s right. How about that girl over there?” I pointed authoritatively to Poe.

  Grotts’ eyes twinkled through his mask. Scardo looked up at him for assistance. But none would be given.

  “Don’t look at me,” mumbled the great man. “Yer on yer own.”

  Scardo let out a croak. “Are you quite sure that would please you, Miss Heart?”

  I nodded, glad that the hunched man’s dutiful nature wouldn’t allow him to decline.

  “Very well.” He solemnly bowed before scurrying across the dance floor.

  Rend snorted but said nothing.

  Thus, Scardo and Poe joined the dance, though they were much stiffer than any of the other couple
s.

  “What about you, Grotts?” I said. “Are you going to ask Kantú to dance after Ardette’s done with her?”

  “Well, ah, that’s er. I don’ really dance.” He rubbed the back of his ear and looked at the floor, embarrassed.

  “Grotts, the Heart of Salvation has had a long day,” I started slyly.

  He half-smiled. “Sorry, ain’t gonna work on me.”

  “What about you, Miss Havoc?” Once again an Elf’s disembodied voice sounded from over my shoulder.

  “You know, it doesn’t really help your case to act so sneakily,” I said to Nyte.

  He was standing behind me, grinning cunningly. It looked like he’d recovered from the night’s events.

  “Pray tell, where have you been all this time, cousin?” asked Rend.

  “Getting ready for the festivities, of course.” The lie smoothly left his lips.

  She narrowed her eyes, but he turned from her.

  “Well?” he said, voice gentle.

  “Well what?”

  “You did not answer my question. What about you? Care to dance?” His forest eyes were lit with energy through his chocolate mask.

  “She’d love ta,” Grotts answered for me.

  “Great.” Nyte pulled on my hand.

  Warm. So warm.

  But as he led me away, he leaned over and whispered something else, and his tone was serious. “I understand if you no longer feel . . . comfortable around me, now that you know.”

  “You know that’s not the case,” I said. But his eyes showed genuine relief at the words.

  You were really worried?

  He placed his hand on the small of my back and pulled me in close, and I was at once flooded with warmth.

  “I am not certain how to dance to this kind of thing;” he said, frowning. “It is far different from an Elven jig, so forgive me if I mess up.”

  “Let’s just wing it.” But the words were a struggle to say. It was getting hard to breathe again.

  We somehow managed to follow the rhythm, even though neither of us knew the proper steps. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t worried about making a fool of myself in front of the members anymore; I was only concerned with the person standing before me. We were alone; the only two people in the room.

  Are you mine?

  Nyte stared down at me, his expression concentrated.

  “It seems I was wrong about you,” I said as he twirled me around.

  “Oh?”

  “You’re not nearly as clumsy as I originally thought.”

  “Still dwelling on that slight mishap in Yh’tak, Miss Havoc?”

  “I don’t easily forget such humiliating things.”

  “Is that so?” He smirked. “And who was it that lost our race?”

  I feigned ignorance, and he laughed.

  I wanted it to stay like that, light and carefree, but there was something else I needed to say. I don’t want to break the mood . . . But I had to say it, or it would consume me.

  “Nyte?” I bit my lip.

  “Hm?”

  “I’m sorry you were forced to break the Silver Command because of me.” For the first time, I looked away from him, full of guilt.

  He pulled me in closer. “Do not say something like that,” he said resolutely. “I would do it again a hundred times over. I only wish I could have told you of my own accord. But it is impossible to break an enchanted order unless the situation is absolutely dire.”

  “But won’t you get in trouble?”

  “It does not matter. To be honest, I am relieved you know. It is just that . . .” This time he was the one to look away. “Do you feel any differently toward me now?”

  I thought for a moment and allowed a smirk to creep across my mouth. “And just how do you presume I felt towards you before?”

  He quickly brightened at the remark.

  Good.

  He tightened his grip and spun me around again.

  We continued dancing through the next song, entirely unaware that the music had even changed.

  Let’s stay like this forever.

  Chapter 16: The Split

  “But why can’t they come with?” I asked, frustrated.

  “Sorry Aura,” answered Grotts, “but the officers already decided. It’s only us.”

  Ardette, Grotts, Scardo and I were on our way through the southern wing of Yes’lech to meet with the officers. To my dismay, Kantú, Rend and Nyte had been forced to stay behind. The officers didn’t find it ‘necessary’ for them to hear the sacred knowledge.

  “That’s just stupid!” I said. “They expect those three to put their lives on the line and accompany us, when they won’t even tell them what’s going on?” I let out a huff. The whole thing sounded pretty backward to me.

  Ardette walked over and put his arm around my shoulder. “You should get upset more often. It suits you adorably. I shall have to keep that in mind.”

  I shrugged him off.

  “I apologize sincerely, Miss Heart. However, we cannot disobey the order.”

  I sighed. “I know. It’s just frustrating.”

  “Is Pietri goin’ ta be there?” said Grotts, looking over at Ardette.

  “I don’t believe so, but then again, how should I know?”

  Ugh.

  For some reason, Ardette was getting on my nerves more than usual. It might’ve been that I was still sore at him for what he’d done to Nyte the previous evening. I understood it’d all been for my safety – his suspicion had been valid, after all – but I still couldn’t wipe Nyte’s anguished face from my mind. The image resurfaced each time the Daem said some cocky remark.

  Scardo shook his head. “Tella informed me that Pietri didn’t make it to the ball. It seems he remained in Elenque to diffuse the situation there.”

  “The situation?” I asked.

  “Why, yes,” answered Ardette, “it seems the elders are in quite a frenzy since your Elf failed to deliver you to them. Surely such a thing brought his elfy clan great shame . . . .” His voice trailed off, leaving me to swallow the statement.

  “Shame?” My eyes widened. I hadn’t really considered the consequences the Elves would have for such a thing; and yet even Rend had followed us thus far. My existence was such a burden for them!

  “Cut it out, Ardette.” Grotts nudged his way between the two of us.

  Grateful, I looked up at him, but he was looking at Ardette, his expression stormy. I wasn’t the only one upset with the Daem.

  Scardo, who was at the front of our posse, suddenly stopped. “Here we are.” With a sweeping gesture, he ushered us through the only gray door in the all-white southern wing.

  “Here goes, I guess.”

  Inside was a sight to behold.

  At first I thought we were outside, but then I realized I was looking out of massive windows. The small room had only one opaque wall; the other three were made entirely of glass. The room itself seemed to jut out over the coast, for the view through the windows was entirely ocean. It was kind of like a giant glass box or something . . . and it was breathtaking.

  “Welcome, Miss Aura Telmacha Rosh, Heart of Salvation,” said a woman. Startled, I looked up.

  Six people were seated in chairs suspended from the ceiling just above our heads. It didn’t lessen my startledom any.

  “Please be seated,” said a man.

  How the heck did they get up there?

  I opened my mouth and gaped up at the people, completely confounded by their elevated state, but Ardette took my wrist and led me to a white chair against the window opposite them. It was the first chivalrous thing he’d done all day, saving me from the embarrassment of staring up at them for far longer than I should have.

  I sat in the chair and studied the hanging people, able to get a good look at them from the new angle.

  So, these were the fabled officers?

  They were an odd array of people, made up of a young Elven woman with lime green hair; a middle-aged man with a bushy brown mustache
; a beautiful female Daem, her eyes bright red like Ardette’s; an ancient, gray-haired Squirrelean, his tail sprightly; a small girl that appeared to be no more than a half-decade old; and a dark-skinned man that had brilliant blue eyes. Another Magir?

  I stared up at them, feeling rude but unable to stunt my curiosity in lieu of studying the strange metal-like ropes holding up the chairs. I wished the men had prepared me for such a sight, for the window-walls, hanging chairs, and strange group were all too overwhelming to take in.

  The officers were silent for only a short while before the small girl piped up. She wasted no time on introductions.

  “You will now receive the sacred knowledge as it pertains to the split,” she said. Her tone was strangely mature for a child so young.

  “The split?” I asked. I’d never heard of it . . . but was that even worth noting? After all, such obliviousness had long since become the norm.

  “Yes.” The Daem was the one who responded, and she did so in a seductive purr. “As your legends tell, there is indeed a great land that lies across the ocean, an Easterlands, far bigger than our own Westerlands. Theirs is a world run by a phenomenon known as ‘steamed mekanix’. There is no magic there.”

  Really? So the Easterlands were real. But with everything else that had happened, I was only a little surprised.

  Still . . . No magic? How is that possible?

  I’d heard the word ‘mekanix’ only once before, from Toll Garrich, the traveling trader. What exactly had he said? Something about a bell.

  But the small girl didn’t give me a chance to ponder the matter any further because she quickly picked up where the Daem had left off.

  “A thousand years ago,” she said, matter-of-factly, “the two continents were whole, partaking in a shared reliance on magic and nature. When steamed mekanix was invented, it was thought to be a joyous discovery. However, as the usage of mekanix grew, the power of magic weakened. The ancients worried that magic would die out altogether if mekanix were allowed to advance.”

  With blank eyes she turned to the Magir, inviting him to take over. His eyes glinted in response – like turquoise gems reflecting in the morning sunbeams cast through the windows.

  “There was a great quarrel on how to proceed,” he said. “Some argued for the preservation of magic, while others vied for the usage of mekanix.”