The Heart of Oldra

by Georgina Makalani

  The man sat cross legged by the fire, then pointed to the space before him. The light in the space was comforting. It was as bright as the midday Penna cavern, and the fire gave it a warm glow. He pointed to the mat again, and she bowed her head before sitting down.

  He was a man not much older than Cora, with clear Penna features—or those of Teven’s people, although she was still to learn who they were. He was not the human man Rhali had met. He wore leather clothing like those of Teven’s people, the colour more a muted grey. She was reminded of the Penna, although there was a bright red pattern stitched around the hem of the short tunic he wore.

  He was a handsome man, she thought, feeling the heat come to her face.

  She wasn’t quite sure how to feel or what to say. She waited for him to speak first, but although she studied him, he said nothing. She met his eyes, wondering at the green colour that flecked the deep brown, and noted that he studied her too. She could sense the muscle and strength within him and wondered if he too was a warrior.

  ‘You are different from what you appear,’ he said in a voice that rumbled through her. It was deep and familiar, like her father’s.

  She nodded, unsure how to place who this man was or what she should say.

  ‘You are not of the Nerrim.’

  She was confused by the name, then wondered if that was Teven’s clan or the other, or both.

  ‘I am Penna,’ she said, clearing her throat.

  ‘You are a chief.’ He reached a finger towards her heart, although he couldn’t see the mark.

  ‘I will be, one day, if I can return to my people.’ She put her hand over her heart.

  He smiled then, and Cora felt her whole body warm. ‘You are your people, little chief.’

  ‘What?’ she asked.

  ‘How did you come to be here?’

  ‘I climbed down from the stream,’ she said, pointing up.

  ‘How did you come to be here?’ he asked again.

  ‘I fell,’ she murmured.

  He nodded slowly.

  ‘Do you know of Dra? Do you know if he is...?’ She wasn’t sure what she wanted to ask—if he was well, or alive. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know if he wasn’t, but then she wondered if she would know already. ‘I can’t feel them,’ she said, looking down into her hands.

  ‘You will.’

  ‘How do you know this?’ She pointed at the red she had noticed on his tunic. ‘Are you an Ancient?’

  ‘Do I look that old?’

  ‘Not all Ancients are as old as they appear,’ she said, wondering just how old Arminel truly was.

  ‘Why did you come?’

  ‘I wanted to see where the water went.’

  ‘Teven?’ he asked, although there was something in his tone she couldn’t quite determine.

  ‘He rests.’

  ‘He is what you thought he was.’

  ‘Oldra,’ she said, nodding.

  ‘You have great skill.’

  ‘It appears I can heal more than I thought possible.’

  He sighed and then climbed to his feet. Cora sat back, unsure what he might do, then squealed as something moved in the shadows. He turned and looked carefully where she had been looking. Then he raised his hand, and the light in the space increased. There was nothing there.

  Cora sighed with relief, but her heart was pounding.

  ‘What did you see?’ he asked.

  She shook her head.

  He squatted down before her. ‘What?’

  ‘Merik,’ she said quickly.

  He growled, and she leaned back. ‘He must really want what you have,’ he said as he stood. With a small piece of leather, he moved the pot off the flames. The smell of the stew filled her senses, and her stomach growled.

  ‘I don’t know if he understands what I have.’

  ‘Hmmm,’ he said, putting stew in a bowl and handing it to her.

  She hesitated for only a moment and then took the bowl from him. He handed her a wooden spoon, and she nodded her thanks as she started to eat.

  He watched her for a moment before sitting again on the mat. ‘How long since you have eaten?’

  She shrugged and continued to hurriedly eat.

  ‘Does he limit your food?’

  She nodded. ‘He appears to limit everyone,’ she said through a full mouth.

  They continued in silence. When she had finished, she looked up from the bowl and focused on his face again. ‘Who are you?”

  ‘A good question,’ he said.

  Cora felt her stomach drop. Here she was telling him all sorts of things, and she didn’t even know who he was. Merik was a man with unknown skill, determined to take what she had. She was stupid to assume all Ancients could be trusted. But as she sucked in a breath and focused on his face, something drew her to this man. She knew she could trust him.

  ‘You know Teven,’ she said. ‘You know something of me.’

  ‘Artell.’ He bowed his head. ‘Ancient of the Nerrim.’

  ‘Nerrim,’ she said slowly. ‘Why do you live in here?’

  ‘I like it, and they leave me alone.’

  ‘Do you want to be left alone?’

  His gaze was intense, and she lowered her eyes again.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I haven’t met many people since I’ve been here.’

  ‘You met some of the Nerrim.’

  ‘They tried to kill me,’ she said with a sigh, ‘and nearly killed Teven instead.’

  ‘An unexpected move on his part.’

  ‘People here don’t like strangers.’

  ‘I am sure your people are the same.’

  She nodded.

  ‘You saved him,’ Artell said. ‘And revealed him.’

  ‘Why did his mother do that to him?’

  ‘I think you already know the answer to that.’

  ‘Then how did he hide such a gift for so long?’

  ‘How do you know that he hid it?’ Artell asked.

  Teven hadn’t told her who or what he was, but maybe others already knew. Perhaps his mother’s attempt to protect him had been in vain. Cora felt the sharp pain again that she had felt at putting her hand over his heart, and she pushed her hand over her mark. The woman had lost so much, yet Merik knew what he was.

  The soft hand on her knee startled her, and Artell withdrew it quickly. ‘It does not follow that it was in vain,’ he said. ‘Her sacrifice removed him from his father’s favour. That may have saved him, in a way.’

  ‘I did not invite you in,’ she said, her voice firmer than she intended.

  ‘You didn’t need to. I could see your thoughts clearly on your face.’

  She nodded slowly. ‘I’m not sure why I am here, but I think it is for a purpose.’

  ‘Then let us explore who and what you are to see if we can determine that.’

  She nodded. But as he held out his hand, she shook her head. ‘I’m not comfortable with this.’

  ‘And yet you want to know.’

  ‘Is there another way?’

  ‘Certainly.’ Without warning, the knife reflected the firelight before he sliced it through his thigh.

  He slumped back as blood gushed from the wound. She pressed her hands over it, panic filling her chest. ‘What is it with you people?’ she murmured as she tried desperately to slow the bleeding. The blood pumped at a steady pace, pushing against her efforts and between her fingers.

  It could have been the vision Merik had flittered through her mind. She wondered just what the man had seen.

  She took a deep breath, trying not to think of the life leaking far too quickly from this man she had only just met, and focused on the wound within the skin. The blade must have been sharp, for he had severed the main blood flow as well as the muscle. She focused on the blood, willing it to slow so she could see the damage. His breathing slowed with it.

  Cora could feel him slipping away. Although she tried to stay calm so she could focus, she felt the desperation creeping up the back of her thro
at with a bitter taste.

  The blood continued to slow, and then the vessel walls stitched back together, the muscles joined and the skin healed. She lifted her hands slowly.

  Without hesitation, she prised the knife still held tight in his hand and cut the material away from the wound—or where the wound would have been, for the skin wasn’t broken. It was starting to bruise, and she was sure it would ache for a few days, but then he deserved it after pulling a stunt like that.

  She blew out a soft breath and wiped the back of her hand over her forehead. Looking at her hands, she hoped the rest of her didn’t look as bad. She turned back to the doorway for a moment, wondering how long it would take her to climb all the way back up to the top and wash the blood from her skin in the deep, cool pool.

  Looking back at the man before her, she sighed. Did he even realise what risk he had taken? She ran a bloody hand over his forehead. Although he felt a little clammy, there was no fever. She felt the pulse in his neck, which appeared to be back to normal. She looked at his pale features, his eyes still closed, and pulled at the ties that kept his tunic closed at the neck. They didn’t move as easily as she’d hoped. She looked at the knife before thinking better of it and working on the knot with her sticky fingers.

  When the knot gave way, she pulled quickly to expose his chest and the clear mark of Oldra. She leaned back and sighed. Her father came to mind with his certainties, and although she hadn’t wanted to believe him, she had. Now she knew not one, but too many Oldra.

  She groaned out loud. But as she made to stand up, a strong hand closed around her wrist. Opening his eyes, Artell pulled her forward, and her other hand landed on his chest. He cried out from the pressure, but as she leaned back, she kept her hand on his chest and closed her eyes.

  There was a warmth, but no overwhelming heat. She had a sense of him, but not, at the same time.

  ‘Do you fondle all your patients?’

  ‘Only those stupid enough to risk their own lives to try and prove a point.’

  ‘What point? And it wasn’t much of a risk.’

  She looked at him then. Was he that confident of her skills, even though he had no idea what they were? Then he was sitting slowly and taking her hands in his.

  He studied them, turning them over, and his brow creased.

  ‘Do you have healing skills?’ she asked, trying to pull from his hold.

  He looked up at her face and reached for it, but she brushed him away.

  ‘There is a lot of blood,’ he said slowly.

  ‘I can’t heal instantly. It took a moment to see what damage you had done.’ She gulped down the panic trying to overwhelm her again. She didn’t know if her willing the blood to slow had helped her or put him in more danger.

  ‘I just meant to scratch the surface,’ he said, looking at the ruined leggings. He ran his hand over the place and winced.

  ‘A lot of blood means bruising. It will be sore, hopefully for some time.’

  He looked at her again. ‘You hope I hurt?’ He sounded disappointed.

  ‘It will remind you not to do anything stupid like that again.’ She stood up and moved a few paces away. It was getting harder to breathe around him. She looked back to the opening. She should get back, check Teven, ensure the chief wasn’t going to take his frustrations of her disappearance out on him or Rhali. But she was tired.

  He was up then, holding her as her legs gave way, and he staggered a little. She laughed at the foolishness of it all. He helped her down onto the mat and then sat beside her. ‘Are you hungry?’

  She shook her head. ‘Tired. You?’

  ‘I could eat.’ He made to stand again, but she put a hand on his arm.

  Blowing out a long breath, she climbed to her feet. She collected the bowl she had eaten from and filled it with stew from the pot. As she handed it back to him, he nodded.

  ‘What were you looking for behind my mark?’

  ‘I just needed to see it. Recently I have felt other’s pain in their hearts. I didn’t want your pain,’ she said quickly, sitting back on the mat. ‘I just wanted to know if you were the same.’

  ‘As you?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said, trying to stifle a yawn. She had no idea how her mother did this so well and so often.

  ‘There,’ he said, pointing across at a sleeping mat just beyond the woven mat.

  It was covered in furs, as in the caverns she had recently visited, and she longed for the soft woollen blankets of home.

  ‘I haven’t seen any animals yet,’ she said, reaching for the furs.

  ‘Don’t,’ he said quickly. She pulled back her hand in surprise. ‘Let me help you wash the blood away first.’

  She looked down then and realised just how covered she was. Not only her hands—it was spattered across her chest, and she was sure it probably covered her face and neck as well. She nodded once and sat where she was. He climbed awkwardly to his feet and moved to the back of the cavern, out of view, then returned with a small woven basket filled with water.

  He didn’t appear to have heated it, and yet when she held out her hand to him and he wiped it with the soft cloth, it was warm. There were too many questions. She sat still and allowed him to wash away his blood. He had caused this mess, she thought as she looked over her clothes.

  When he was finished, he pointed towards the furs. She gladly climbed in and fell quickly into a deep sleep. But she had strange dreams. The shadows moved around her, followed her no matter where she went. Then she was watching Teven sleep, but the chief stood over him, his face twisted in hatred.

  She woke with a start to find Artell standing closer to the entrance, arguing with someone. ‘There isn’t the space,’ he was saying as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and walked closer. Beyond him, she could see Serassa. She smiled into the dragon’s deep golden eyes.

  ‘Hello,’ she said, rubbing her hand across her face and leaning into her neck. ‘I thought you had disappeared.’

  I thought you had made new dragon friends, Serassa said.

  Despite the exhaustion she still felt, Cora laughed.

  ‘She wanted to sleep with you,’ Artell said. ‘As though I have room for a dragon. If I take in one, they will all want to share my fire.’

  I will return you then, Oldra.

  Cora’s heart fluttered, but she knew that Serassa could not take her as far as she wanted to go. She nodded once, and with her arms around the dragon’s neck, Serassa started for the opening.

  ‘You may return if you wish,’ Artell called after her. ‘I may be able to teach you something.’

  ‘I may be able to teach you something,’ she said quickly, and she caught the smile he tried to hide as the dragon took to the air.

  Chapter 20

  The cavern looked just as it had when she’d left it, although the piles of wood had disappeared. She assumed they had been taken by families into their hearths. Serassa had dropped her right by the opening to the cavern. Although it had gotten dark as they travelled, she hadn’t seen any animals. She wondered what these people did for food. Perhaps the chief might let her go with Teven to hunt.

  Teven and Rhali sat quietly by the fire at their hearth when she arrived. They both glanced at her and then back to the fire before Rhali climbed to her feet and filled a bowl from a pot for her. She didn’t want to take what little these people had, but even Artell had managed to make stew, so there had to be supplies somewhere.

  ‘You have been gone all day,’ Teven said, trying to sound light, but she could hear the concern behind his words.

  ‘Do you feel better?’ she asked.

  He nodded and put a hand to his chest. ‘Odd, but better.’

  ‘Odd?’ She put down the bowl, but he smiled and handed it back to her.

  ‘Not unwell, just different.’ He put a hand over his heart, where the mark was, and she smiled.

  Then his face clouded. ‘What happened to you?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘You are co
vered in blood,’ he said too loudly. Rhali turned back from the fire with her finger to her lips. ‘What happened?’ he asked in a hoarse whisper.

  ‘I went into the water, and then I found someone who needed help.’

  ‘Who?’ he asked more firmly.

  ‘He said his name was Artell,’ she whispered.

  ‘Then he lied,’ Teven continued in the firm, too-loud voice. ‘Artell died years ago.’

  She opened her mouth and then closed it. He’d been alive enough to nearly die with her hands covered in his blood. She clenched and unclenched her fingers. Despite her need to understand what she was, Cora just wanted to be home with her mother.

  ‘Who is Artell?’ Rhali asked.

  ‘He was of Edgris’s family...’ Teven started. Then he stopped and looked at her, his face paling, and Cora turned to see Rhali’s getting redder.

  ‘You didn’t know,’ Cora said slowly.

  ‘I knew they were there,’ she said in a hoarse whisper. ‘I didn’t know how like your father you are,’ she threw at Teven.

  ‘Don’t argue,’ Cora pleaded, but they both glared at her.

  ‘I am nothing like him,’ Teven growled. ‘He doesn’t want me to be.’

  A shiver crossed Cora’s spine. She turned slowly to find Merik standing at the edge of the hearth.

  ‘They don’t want him,’ he said, looking at Rhali and then Cora. ‘No one wants him. So, it matters little if he tries to visit. I take it your last attempt did not go well,’ he said, pointing at Teven’s torn tunic.

  Teven only looked at the ground.

  ‘Where did you go?’ Merik asked Cora, looking at her with an uncertainty she hadn’t seen in him before.

  ‘Today? I went to get wood.’

  He waited, and she knew he wanted more.

  She tried not to sigh. ‘I went to the stream. I wanted to wash Teven’s blood from me.’

  ‘And you return covered in another’s blood,’ he said, stepping forward and putting a finger to her chest. She looked down at the blood beneath his finger. ‘This is your blood,’ he said slowly.