by Brindi Quinn
“Her husband got the dragon’s heart, but the dragon got her heart, and so, they were locked in an eternal struggle, none of them ever feeling true contentment. Be wary when ya give a woman yer heart, is what they say.” He took a deep breath, signaling the end of his tale.
The rest of the group stared at him.
“That was . . .” Scardo gulped and folded his hands behind his back.
“That’s a lovely story?!” exclaimed Kantú, face disgusted. “Grottsy, I’m beginning to question your taste!”
Grotts bared his teeth and rubbed the back of his head. “Well, that’s, uh-”
“I see it, though,” I muttered. It was the truth. “Kind of like doing what you can for the people you love, even if it means giving up yourself. Even though she had to die, she gave both of the men what she could.” I brought my eyes to the fan. “To me, that’s lovely.”
Grotts nodded in agreement, grateful I’d seen the point of the tale.
“But then none of them ended up happy, did they?” asked Kantú. She scratched her ear and studied the fan’s picture. She was trying to decipher a happy ending.
“The woman did,” I said. I understood. What else could she have done in that situation?
“It was selfish,” said a contempt-filled voice. Surprisingly, it belonged to Ardette.
“She was happy to play the martyr,” he continued, “but what of the men she left behind? I pity the dragon especially.”
“For the dragon, there was always some risk,” I said, “loving a woman that was already taken. His intentions weren’t pure from the start, right?” I motioned to the fan – like the scaled beast’s flames could help argue my point.
“But he loved her, or he wouldn’t have felt such anguish at her betrayal.”
Betrayal. There’s that word again!
I tensed up and searched Ardette’s face, but he wouldn’t meet my gaze.
Why are you behaving so strangely? You don’t honestly believe I’m going to betray you somehow?
“He should have been happy,” I argued, unsure why I was getting so defensive about a fable. “In the end, she gave him her heart, a prize even greater than her husband’s.”
His eyes shot back up and locked onto mine, and his pupils were dilated larger than normal, nearly covering up his irises. He looked wild like that. Rabid. Shaking, he said,
“The husband didn’t deserve her in the first place, did he?”
I held his stare, and the mood was tense.
Kantú whispered, “Is he the dragon in this scenario?”
It was more than that, though. It was more than silly analogies. There was something else bothering him. But what?
“Really, it’s just a story,” said Grotts in defense.
“Ridiculous,” scoffed Rend, “such a woman. There is no honor in what she did. Allowing herself to be tempted by the dragon in the first place.”
With cold eyes, she scanned my hair. Did she think I was Nyte’s dragon? I shivered, liking the story less and less by the minute. How had a simple tale gotten so much of a rise out of everyone?
No, not everyone.
Nyte had remained silent.
While we’d fought, he’d stared at the floor, contemplating something and altogether ignoring the group’s debate.
Actually, it wasn’t just now. He’d been pretty quiet all day, hadn’t he? Why? Was it the dimensiad man? Or maybe the events from the cafe?
Whatever it was, it occupied his thoughts for the remainder of the evening.
~
When night fell, I couldn’t sleep. Even while the others rested in their beds, the moonlight kept me awake. It was bright as it shot through the room’s window, but it wasn’t bothersome; it was alluring and mysterious.
I couldn’t resist its pull.
I wandered out of bed and onto the room’s scrap metal balcony. I sat on the side and hugged my knees. The balcony offered a view of the low and perfect moon, whose light flooded the sleeping city. As far as I could tell, none were stirring.
I was still worried about Ardette and Nyte. The two of them were acting too weird. I understood that tomorrow was important, but . . .
Wind brushed the back of my neck.
But that’s not wind, is it?
“Ah!”
Nyte chuckled.
Is he back to normal now? I grew hopeful at the thought.
“That’s not funny.” I pretended to be mad. “I could’ve toppled right over the edge.”
He closed the still-open door to our room.
“It would teach you a lesson. You should not be out here alone as it is.”
“Are you saying you’d like to have seen me fall?” I said stuffily.
He grinned again and sat down next to me. Then he stared off into the sky. The moonlight rested gently on his cheekbone, making him to glow.
His darkness can be lit with moonlight. I didn’t really know what that meant, but I could kind of see it now. The way he appeared supernatural by its illumination.
“Your element,” he said after a while. “It is beautiful.”
I nodded. “It’s true. But don’t think I haven’t noticed. You are very much as in love as I . . .”
He was at once taken aback, responding in a wide-eyed inhale. But I finished,
“. . . with the moon.”
And he loosened back up.
“So you have discovered my secret? Although, admittedly, it is not something I ever intended to conceal.”
“Maybe it’s in your nature to be mysterious.”
“Maybe it is in your nature to be worrisome.” He gestured to the platform’s edge.
“As long as you’re there to worry about me.”
I smiled at him, but his face was serious.
“Is everything okay?” I asked. “You seem . . .”
“Miss Havoc, has that Daem said anything strange to you?”
“Strange?” I closed my eyes and thought about it. “You mean stranger than normal?”
He gave me an amused smirk of knowing. “Yes, stranger than his usual perversion.”
What should I say? That betrayal business-
“So he has,” said Nyte.
He’d read the truth even before I could decide whether or not I wanted to reveal it. I didn’t know how to answer, so I said nothing.
“Do not pay him mind,” he said. “Simply remember to do what comes naturally. Then I am certain you will be fine . . . during the test.”
The test? Is that what you’ve been worrying about?
“Of course.” I didn’t get it, but at least I could assure him.
Nyte stared at me with forest eyes that were even deeper than usual. He was contemplating something, and for some reason, Ardette’s words popped back into my mind. Don’t betray me. I was getting a similar vibe from Nyte.
There was something they were both hiding. But before I could decipher it, he loosened up, killing whatever the vibe had been.
“I am sorry,” he said. “I did not mean to cause you worry. That Daem is a meddlesome person. I should not let him get to me so.”
“Extremely meddlesome.” I let out a sigh. “But don’t let it bother you too much. I suppose such behavior is only to be expected,” – I paused and smiled slyly – “from a dastardly pirate.”
The comment finally broke Nyte from his worry. He snorted and responded, “At least he was not the one that had to be wedded to Rend.”
“You heard about that? I thought you’d be thrilled.”
A playful eye-roll ensued, but then his face too soon grew serious again. Only this time, it was a good serious.
“I have something that I wish to give you,” he said.
But at the thought of receiving something, anything, from him, I became flustered. “Y-you do?”
He nodded, reached into his cloak’s pocket, and held out a closed hand. “Here.”
I cupped my palm beneath his fist, and he dropped something small and round into my hand. It was a polished, gl
owing stone.
“Wow! It’s so . . .” My neck grew hot. “It’s very pretty.
I admired the stone, which not only glowed, but also emitted a brighter light the warmer it grew in my palm.
“It is an earthstone. I thought it might be useful when you retrieve the prophecy. I have a feeling the Inscription will be someplace dark.”
My neck grew even hotter. “Thanks.”
“It was nothing,” he said and showed a shy smile that made my stomach topple.
I rolled the earthstone between my fingers.
This is a gift from an important person. I wondered if he knew just how precious the small token was.
I caught him looking at me, and it brought about another awareness of myself and the fact that I was alone with him. In complete silent moonlight, we were alone.
He reached out his hand and ran it over my shoulder.
“Nyte?” I breathed his name.
He swept the hair from my neck and brushed his fingers gently across the surface of my skin. My neck exploded in warmth where he’d caressed – warmer than any other time we’d touched.
He’s giving it to me. My heart raced. I tried to keep my head clear, even though I wanted to pull all of his warmth into me. I fought the urge, and my breathing became labored.
“You make me feel alive, Aura,” he whispered. His eyes were like silvery pendants reflecting the moon’s light.
“Alive? Nyte, I . . .” I’m going to tell him how I feel. I’m going to confess my heart’s desire to him. I won’t wait until the journey is over.
I brought my hand out to cup his face. “I-”
But his eyes widened mid-sentence, and a strange look started to creep across his face. At first it was unrecognizable, but then . . .
Is that . . . terror!?
In one retracting fling, I pulled my hand back. Yes, it was most definitely pure, unbridled terror, and it had come completely out of nowhere, delivering a heavy blow into our intimacy.
“Nyte? What the-” What the hell?!
His face had turned ashen. He clutched his chest and doubled over.
“What is it?! What are you-”
“Th-the-the . . . pact.” He choked the words out.
I didn’t understand. “The pact?”
He put his hand over his face and with shaking words, stammered, “No. Not now. But why?”
“What?! You’re scaring me!” I was more than scared. I was petrified.
His terror was contagious, and it filled the air around us.
I reached for him again, confused and crumbling, but he abruptly fell into me and grabbed my shoulders, his face intense with determination.
“Miss Havoc, you owe me a song.” His voice was still shaking, but he was trying to conceal it.
“What!? All of a sudden you want me to sing?!”
“From the race. You lost, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember! The osterflit race; our terms! But what’s going on?! You can’t just act like that and expect me to-”
“Sing for me NOW,” he pleaded, still holding my shoulders.
“Wha-”
“Please. I beg you. It is what I want more than anything!” His voice was urgent, his face pale.
I didn’t know what else to do. There was something wrong, but I couldn’t help him any other way. I didn’t want to sing, but he gave me a look that made my heart ache.
Fine.
I had to do what I could to help him, even if it made no sense to me. Reluctantly I opened my mouth, all the while watching him and agonizing over his distress.
“For here I stay and lie awake,
All waiting for the dawn to take,
This fear away, a fear I know,
With the rising sun will go.
Deep into the sky so soon,
And taking with the dying moon,
The stars fade out each one by one,
To tell to all that morn’s begun.
The quaking whispers start to speak,
To sing of all the ones that seek
This end to fear, make naught mistake,
This waning fear, the dawn will take.”
I waited for him to speak.
“Thank you.” He was relieved. “A song just for me. I treasure it, Aura.” But though he’d eased up, I certainly hadn’t.
“More importantly,” I pleaded, “what’s going on?!”
He was silent and then he let out a sad sigh and said, “The Thulian Pact. I fear I must . . . form it.”
Thulian Pact?
“That thing with the trees? You don’t mean . . .”
I remembered the story of the Elven pact with the trees, formed to make crossover into death easier.
The Elves have a gift that allows them to feel their death.
Was that true? That couldn’t be true. He couldn’t really-!
“You feel it?” I whispered, hoping I was wrong.
He nodded.
“You feel your death? No.” I let out a laugh of denial. “I mean, you aren’t going to die.”
I didn’t believe it. I didn’t believe it at all, but . . . his face was so sincere and worried and sad and earnest that it really freaked me out. But I still couldn’t accept it! That same denial built a wall around me, protecting me from the harsh reality.
Nyte gripped the flesh of my shoulders again. “Aura, you need to get out of here. If I am going to die, it means there is danger. Please.”
“No. That’s ridiculous. Nyte, you aren’t going to die! I won’t accept something like that. You’re healthy. You’re fine!”
I was angry now, but he was sad.
“I need to get away from you,” he said quietly.
“No way! You’re going to stay right here. You’re going to wait here while we go to the prophecy. I don’t care if I have to tie you to the bed. You aren’t going anywhere!”
He said nothing and wrapped his arms around me, his embrace making my stomach rush even in my emotional state. He held me tightly. He was so warm. There was no way that warmth was going to die out. I told myself that it was definitely impossible – that he had to be mistaken.
But it didn’t work. I was still scared, but I felt safe in his arms. I buried my head in his chest and let the tears come.
How strange that I should be the one being comforted.
You can’t die . . . because . . . I love you.
~
The next morning Nyte was gone.
Chapter 21: The Prophecy
I held the earthstone in my shaking fist.
“Why?” The word quivered as it passed my trembling lips.
“Aura, stop it! You’re hurting yourself!” Kantú shook my arm.
“Huh?” I looked down at my bleeding palm where my nails had dug in. I hadn’t realized just how tightly I’d been holding on . . . like I’d be able to keep his spirit near if I didn’t let go.
“This is crazy; you need to snap out of it.”
But why? Why did you leave?
“Everyone’s worried about you.” She pulled on my arm. “Come on.”
We were back out in the wilds of the Crystallands on our way to the Inscription of Ulan. Scardo had insisted we continue, even under the ‘circumstances’.
“You don’t understand.” I stared down at the blood-covered stone. “I was with him. We were on that platform. I – I shouldn’t have fallen asleep!”
“It’s not your fault,” she said, tone filled with pity. She rubbed my back. “Come on, Aura. Let’s go back to the others.”
“Is he really going to die? Was that the last time I’ll ever see him? It’s not fair. Kantú, it’s not FAIR!”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” But she didn’t sound like she believed it herself. “He just went away because he thought it was safest for you. I bet him leaving even changed the course of things. He’ll probably be okay now!”
One salty tear slid down my cheek. “Then why did Rend leave too!?” I yelled. “She knows that Thulian Pact stuff! You saw he
r face, didn’t you? She was horrified!”
“Aura, I . . .” Kantú winced.
I could still see it vividly.
Her face.
I’d woken in my bed, and Nyte was nowhere to be found. At the mention of the Thulian Pact, Rend had turned ghostly white. She’d screamed in distress, cursing me for letting him leave, before leaving to go find him and abandoning the guard completely. She understood better than any of us, and her reaction had only pushed me further into despair.
Was he really going to die? My stomach ached. I was reliving it again. That pain of loss.
“M-Miss Heart, I’m afraid we cannot carry on like this.” Scardo slithered up next to me. He’d followed Kantú and me away when we’d taken break, refusing to let us out of his sight. He was the last person I wanted to see right now, his clear distrust in Nyte made even more apparent after my dear Elf was gone.
“We can’t be certain of the Elf’s whereabouts. There is no reason to despair until we know more. Please try to focus on the prophecy’s recovery.”
“How can you expect her to do that?” Kantú glared at him.
But his words struck me. The prophecy. Yes’lech. All of those people. I had to think of them right now no matter how hard it was.
“No, he’s right,” I said, struggling to breathe. The Yes’lech crowd. They’d all looked up to me; considered me their savior. I couldn’t abandon them or Illuma, not when we were so close. Even in my uncertainty and grieving I wanted to help, I really did; it was just . . .
“I don’t know how-” My voice cracked. To keep going.
Scardo looked at me with eyes of sympathy and worry, but there was another in our midst that wasn’t so understanding.
“If he isn’t dead, I’m going to kill that bastard myself the next time I see him.” Ardette had wandered over, tired of waiting for the three of us.
I was too pained to retort. Luckily, Kantú was there to do it for me.