by Brindi Quinn
“Still, he told her about shadow trickery and consuming spirit, and she found it all awfully interesting. She even offered him a drink of herself in exchange for a trick. Unfortunately, with one taste, Sowpa became addicted, and-”
I couldn’t help but cry out this time. “What?! Because of me-”
“No!” Darch put up his hand. “It would have happened either way. His first taste had to come sooner or later.” He brought his hand at the side of his mouth and leaned over like he was about to share a slice of forbidden gossip. “His grandfather, you see, suffered the same illness of oversensitivity.”
It didn’t really make me feel better, but I didn’t say anything more.
“Well, as the story goes, Sowpa was discovered by the snow princess’ teacher, and she kicked him out and erased the princess’ memories. After that, Sowpa was relieved of duty. He was put on suspension and placed under surveillance, but he went rogue in search of another innocent or andap or whatever he could find. And those who seek, find. Sowpa was searching, and eventually, he found Druelca. With Sowpa’s talent, he was quickly made a commander.
“Sowpa’s mother was heartbroken by the news, and his younger brother, equally distraught, agreed to infiltrate Druelca in order to find Sowpa and convince him to return home. But by that point, Sowpa had become so corrupted by the mist that he’d turned into a completely different person.”
“Gershaw,” I whispered. Because of me, Gershaw had been born. And even knowing that, Ardette still . . . he still . . . to me he still-!
“To this day,” said Darch, “Sowpa continues to work for Druelca. Well, until it was destroyed recently. Thus goes the tale of Sowpa.” The tale’s end had come way too abruptly.
I stared at Darch.
That’s it? It just ends like that!? Well, I guess I know how it ends, but still . . . I’d been right to judge the Magir’s story-telling skills.
I’ve loved you for longer than you’ll ever know.
A moment of silence passed before I said in a mutter, “It’s a sad story, Darch, and I never knew! How . . . how could I not have known? It’s a really sad story, Darch. Really, really sad.”
I dropped my head. The story had done nothing to create a diversion. It had only made me feel worse. But while I started to wallow, Darch reached out, placed his hand on mine, and delivered a strong, yet gentle,
“No.”
I looked up again. “No?”
“No, it’s not sad.” He removed his hand and pushed his sliding spectacles back up his nose. Then, staring out over the field that surrounded the cottage, he said, “Ardette won’t say so, but you’re one of the last things that reminds him of how his brother used to be. With you around, there’s still a little bit of hope that Sowpa really will come back. And being around you . . . has changed Ardette.”
“Changed him? But even if that were true, being around him and-” But I gave up on the thought. Instead, I said, “How could I not have known? Ignorance isn’t bliss. It’s transgression.”
“Hm. Transgression? No, I’ve lived a life and a fourth, and I know that’s not true. And as far as not knowing? Ardette doesn’t want you to. But who cares, right?”
Darch sat up and let out a content sigh. “And besides, Ardette says you’re nothing like what Sowpa said you were.”
“Oh?”
“He says you’re much better.”
I wouldn’t even have time to swallow the statement.
“What are you two jibbering about out here?” Ardette exited the cottage with a bang.
“Just giving her a few pie recipes, that’s all,” lied Darch.
“Well, we’d best get moving don’t you think? What, if we’re to infiltrate the heavens, and all.”
“Wait, Ardette!” The door banged again, and Ms. Selrak came running onto the porch behind him. “You almost forgot what you came for!”
“Came for?” I wondered aloud.
Ms. Selrak held out a black wooden whistle on a string to him.
“Take good care of it, dear. It was your father’s, and rightfully it belongs to Sowpa, so you mustn’t damage it.”
“I am well aware, Mom. And for your information, I wasn’t forgetting anything. I fully intended to return to retrieve-”
“Ardette! Look at you! Your hair is a mess, here let me smooth it out for you.”
“That’s not necessary-”
“Hold still! You’ve got a steady lady now, and she seems a bit fussy, so you have to do your best!”
But while Ardette got his hair ‘smoothed’, I eyed the whistle. It looked normal enough. Unenchanted. Plain. Had Ardette really ‘come there’ for it? But Pietri had said that we’d gone there because it was safe and on the way.
I suppose it should’ve come as no surprise that I didn’t know the whole story.
“What’s that whistle for?” I asked.
But Ms. Selrak pushed Ardette away and interrupted me with another hand grab. “Aura Rosh, please, return him. Please. You’re the one who can bring him ba-”
“Mom! Enough of that. Go inside, why don’t you? Would you really keep your son from his work-?”
“Don’t you start that again! Any more of that circle talk, and I’ll take that relic right back to its resting place!”
Relic? But the whistle was long gone. Around Ardette’s neck and under his shirt. I wouldn’t be able to inspect it further.
“Your hair, Ardette!” Ardette’s mom was instantly at it again. “Here let me run inside and grab you a comb. I have a lovely one made of zebron bone!”
“Yes, perfect. Run inside and fetch it, would you?”
Ms. Selrak started to release my hands reluctantly, but before she did, she pleaded again with an intense red wince.
Return Sowpa?
I don’t know why, but I gave her a nod. Maybe it was that her gaze was so hopeful and earnest that I couldn’t help myself. It just sort of happened. She gave my hands as squeeze then hurried into the house just as three others were leaving it.
“Come on, Grottsy! I feel so rejuvenated after all that delicious, glorious, salty meat! Your mom’s a great cook, Ardetto!”
“Ardetto?” Ardette made a choking noise. “Oh, decided to start that up too, have you? Wonderful. Let’s get the whole gang in on it, shall we?”
“Eh-he, wait up, Kantoo. Would ya quit bouncin’ around like that, yer gonna make yerself sick!”
“I still think we should return to Yes’lech. It is entirely unwise of us to venture into the mist. Especially without proper preparation and in accompaniment of the Pure Heart! This is the MIST we’re talking about! This does not sit well with me!”
With trailing nervous ranting, Scardo slithered away through the young trees that surrounded the cottage and out into the open field.
“Ardetto, would you like to hear a song?” Darch stood and clapped his hands together.
“Do you not think you should leave the singing to the songstress?” said Rend in a scoff. With one last bang, she and Nyte had just entered the porch.
“Yes, dear Rend,” purred Ardette. “A wonderful idea.”
“Do not speak my name with such familiarity, worm!”
“Guys, guys, let’s all sing a song!” piped Darch. “How about the Yes’lech anthem?!”
As the rest of them left the porch, I was left alone with Nyte to watch their departing backs.
Six guards and a bird leading the way into the unknown. They were all acting too normal – way too normal . . . but maybe that’s what we needed right now.
I straggled behind the group, hand in hand with Nyte.
My Nyte.
I wouldn’t let him die for me. I’d follow the others to the angels’ realm, but I’d find another way. I’d catch the interest of my own angel if that’s what it took. I’d do whatever was necessary to keep him safe. To keep him from being sacrificed, I’d do whatever . . .
“I won’t let you die,” I whispered.
“I will never allow you to die,” he respond
ed with conviction.
We wouldn’t allow each other to die. We were both willing to play the martyr, but in competing for the role, wouldn’t we inadvertently uproot our relationship?
“No, Nyte,” I said, rethinking things. “We have to work together to find another way. We will not allow each other to die.”
“We will not allow each other to die,” he repeated.
Satisfied, I gave him a grin and together we followed the others into the mist.
. . .
Little did I know, the familiar pendant had taken up residence in his front pocket.
Thank You For Reading Heart Of Farellah!
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Don’t forget to read the rest of the story. Heart of Farellah: Book 3, available now!
More Info
About the Author:
Heart of Farellah: Book 2 was MN author Brindi Quinn’s second published work.
Shortly after finishing college in 2010, Brindi began her mad dash into authordom. The Heart of Farellah Trilogy was first to hit shelves in 2011, and she hasn’t stopped since. In addition to her debut trilogy, Brindi’s publications include: Seconds: The Shared Soul Chronicles, a third person sci-fi romance; Sil in a Dark World: A Paranormal Love-Hate Story; The World Remains, a dystopian adventure; Atto’s Tale, the miniseries spinoff to Heart of Farellah; The Eternity Duet, a two-part fantasy romance; The Death and Romancing of Marley Craw, a sexy supernatural tale; and The Ongoing Pursuit of Zillow Stone, a post-apocalyptic series.
Brindi considers herself a nerd, indulging heavily (when she can) in video games, anime, manga, horror flicks and good sci-fi TV. Brindi recently set off on a grand adventure. After spending a time near the northern coast of California, she’s currently tucked away in a cozy hobbit hole near Seattle.
Follow Brindi on Twitter:
@Brindiful
AND connect with her on Facebook:
Facebook.com/Brindiful
About the Cover Artist:
Ene Karels is a young artist working from her home studio in Minnesota. She creates both digital and traditional art using watercolors, acrylics and pencils. Her works are in styles ranging from anime, to cartoon, to realistic. From people, to animals.
She has done several book covers and countless character portraits.
Follow Ene on Tumblr:
http://angeleneart.tumblr.com/