The Half-Hearts Chronicles

by Kealohilani

  Lani listened as Kendra rolled over and settled in for the night. She thought of Jharate— his sweet smile and spirit, his angelic voice, his cute sense of humor, and his fiercely protective nature. He was so wonderful.

  She couldn’t believe that he had somehow ended up in her life. She closed her eyes and pictured his enchanting eyes and his luscious lips and fell asleep with his image securely in her subconscious.

  Morning came and Jharate quickly found Lani— just after he had helped to disassemble the showers and just as she was coming back from helping Jaresh to prepare breakfast for everyone as she often had in weeks past. Jharate held both of his hands behind his back with a gleam in his eyes.

  “Choose a hand.”

  Lani looked at him curiously and searched his face for a clue as to which hand she should pick. She leaned as far left as she could, but he moved to make it so she could not see. She smiled and leaned to her right in the same way— but again he blocked her view.

  “No peeking,” Jharate chuckled.

  Lani bit her lip with a smile, closed her eyes, and pointed at his left hand. She opened them again and watched as he pulled the chosen hand forward. There, in his palm, was a tropical-looking ruby-red flower with five large satiny petals.

  “Oh! It’s gorgeous!”

  Lani reached for the flower, but Jharate pulled it back just out of reach. She looked at him with a quizzical gaze.

  “May I?” Jharate asked, gesturing toward her ear.

  “Yes, of course,” Lani answered with a blush.

  Jharate placed the flower carefully behind her left ear. Lani could smell a heavenly fragrance— similar to plumerias— as it passed near her face.

  “In both the Trisaknen and Kelamosan cultures, it is customary for a taken woman to wear a flower over her left ear.”

  “Thank you so much!” Lani stood on her tiptoes and gave Jharate a kiss. “Earth has a similar tradition among the Polynesian Islanders— the people who are from where the music you love so much is from. So, what would have happened if I had picked the other hand?”

  “Both of my hands held the flower,” Jharate grinned.

  “Ha! You’re so adorable!”

  Jharate leaned down and kissed her once more.

  “Time to go!” Arante’s voice called out.

  “There’s that timing again,” Lani giggled.

  “Indeed,” laughed Jharate.

  Lani and Jharate worked side by side to help pack up the camp and set off for the day’s journey. The terrain was changing slightly now. The seldom-used path they had chosen for the day was getting rockier and much less level. It was also becoming narrower.

  This was made worse by the overgrowth of many different kinds of bushes and trees. They eventually came to a fairly large river and quickly located the shallowest point they could find. However, it was still about three feet deep and a hundred feet wide— and the water was flowing briskly.

  Arante led the way— a feat Lani could barely fathom given the heels Arante always wore. Seriously… How does she do that?!

  Lani followed Jharate closely. She had to grab on to him several times because her natural lack of balance— combined with the current— was trying to knock her over every other second.

  But with his help, she managed to make it successfully without falling in. Once everyone had reached the other side, there was an instant almost-palpable cheerfulness within the ranks.

  “We’re almost there!” Arante shouted with a carefree tone— reminiscent of that of a happy little girl.

  Lani and Jharate squeezed each other’s hand tightly and looked at each other uneasily.

  “That is where you are wrong. You are not going anywhere.”

  Drakne and his men appeared out of the willow-like trees— weapons raised— pointing towards the refugees, who quickly drew their own weapons. A small army stood blocking their way to Destavnia. They were practically surrounded, yet again. Lani could not believe it and apparently, neither could Arante.

  “You have got to be kidding me! How did you get here before us?”

  “Clearly you underestimated me. I have my ways. But that is beside the point…”

  Drakne turned to address the entire crowd.

  “You need not all die. Just give us the travelers from the other world— and your former prince, Jharate— and we will simply let the rest of you go. You can walk straight ahead through these trees and into the valley that leads into Destavnia. There you will all obtain the freedom you so desperately want.”

  “I don’t think so!” Arante barked back.

  “Anyone else feel differently?” Drakne drawled, pausing for a moment. “No? Then have it your way.”

  Drakne’s lips curled into a malicious grin.

  The Pure of Heart

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Drakne had over one hundred men— and they were much more skilled than Asharen’s. The rebels numbered only forty, including the five from Earth.

  Arante kept Drakne’s men back as far as she could with her bow and arrow. She targeted three at a time, but found that someone on Drakne’s side was using deflecting powers.

  Changing tactics, she found that aiming at one man at a time systematically allowed her to take out the ones who had no shielding powers. Next, she focused on targeting their archers to minimize the number of arrows flying at her people. Raoul and Jaresh stood near her with their crossbows— skillfully doing the same.

  Erik, Lani, and Jharate fought the opposing swordsmen. Lani was doing almost as well as Jharate now as she crossed blades with the men who attacked her. However, she was suddenly caught off guard as the man she was fighting moved in a direction she did not anticipate.

  She parried his attack instinctively— but took a knuckle guard to the face and fell to the ground. Erik was the closest to her and went in for the kill just before the man who had hit her could finish Lani off.

  “Lani!” Jharate called with a frantic tone, working with Erik to protect her.

  “I’m alright…” she assured, as she pushed herself up and leaned on her elbows.

  The world was spinning, and she instinctively reached for her left temple where she had gotten hit. Her head was sore and there was blood on her hand, but she didn’t have time to worry about it.

  She forced herself to stand. It took a few seconds to get her bearings again. She had barely done so when she saw another man coming at Erik from behind him and quickly ran the attacker through.

  “I guess we’re even,” Erik grinned. “Thanks!”

  “Anytime,” replied Lani, short-winded.

  She wiped the trickling blood from her temple again and away from her left eye as she allowed her adrenaline to take over— rejoining the fight by Jharate’s side against several men.

  One of Drakne’s men lunged toward Erik, who parried the blade away from his chest. The soldier sliced Erik’s left arm instead. Erik groaned as he felt the sharp searing pain— but, as his anger grew, his groan transformed into a furious yell.

  He rushed his attacker— slashing his arm in return. The man redoubled his efforts against Erik and they continued to engage furiously. Finally Erik’s sword slashed across his opponent’s stomach and he emerged as the victor.

  Justin struggled as four men came at him, one after another. He planted his feet firmly on the ground, a shoulder-width apart. With sweat pouring down his face he met the first attacker whose blade clanked wildly against his axe.

  Justin used the top of his weapon to slice one attacker as he maneuvered the pick on the bottom into the stomach of another man behind him, who fell to the ground. He wrenched his weapon free and ferociously swung at the next two men who came to face him, fatally wounding both of them.

  The last of the four men rushed Justin from behind but tripped over the falling body of one of his comrades as Justin yanked his weapon backwards, accidentally impaling the man as he fell. Breathing hard, Justin pushed the man over and braced his foot on the man’s chest and pulled his bat
tle-axe out quickly.

  “I could use a little help!” Justin called to Erik as five more men came his way.

  Erik rushed over. The two working together managed to keep the five at bay.

  Kendra aggressively used her martial arts skills and her staff with deadly effect. She had just finished knocking a handful of Drakne’s men senseless, when an arrow came zooming towards her. She saw the archer far across the battlefield— pulling back his bow and aiming to pierce her heart— but by the time that registered in her brain, he had already let the arrow fly and it was too late.

  Kendra dropped her staff as she raised her hands instinctively to protect herself. The arrow glanced off, as if it had hit a stone, and fell to the ground. Kendra’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open as two more arrows did the same. She could now see a distorted bubble around her.

  She lowered her hands and concentrated on the bubble disappearing. It did. She quickly raised her hands again and focused on making the bubble reappear. It did! She laughed jubilantly— relishing her newfound talent.

  Kendra dropped the force field and put it back up a few more times to make sure that she had command of it in case she needed it again. Satisfied, she picked up her staff and continued to fight on the offensive.

  Drakne rubbed his right temple as he looked at his men. This was completely unacceptable. His over-one-hundred men had now dwindled to about seventy, and the rebels had only lost seven people— none of whom were important enough for him to care about.

  He scanned the battlefield thoughtfully. He refused to walk away from this incident without the prizes he sought.

  His eyes fell upon a woman fighting wildly with her sword near the edge of the fight. Her strange clothes gave her away as one of the travelers he was after. Her skills with the blade were impressive. But she would stand no chance against his power.

  Drakne took a sure step in her direction. Using his powers to repel any objects that got close enough to hit him— he strolled through the chaos unharmed.

  Drakne reached the woman and a large red energy ball materialized in his hands. He raised his arms to throw it at her.

  She had just finished killing another one of his men when she turned around. Their eyes met. A surprisingly-appropriate amount of fear registered in her eyes as she pointed her sword at him defensively— trying to keep him at a distance— watching his every move without blinking.

  As Drakne saw her face— he hesitated. The ball stayed suspended between his hands and he simply stared at her.

  Their eyes locked. It was as if time had stopped for the two of them. The battle seemed to rage on around them in slow motion with muted sound.

  Drakne’s eyebrows rose. Both of his eyes widened subtly. His mouth opened slightly as he saw glowing white flames flickering where the blue in her eyes had been.

  The flames disappeared almost as quickly as they had come, but now Drakne felt something happening to him— something that had never happened before. He received a vision!

  He saw this same girl in another place and time wearing a supernaturally-white dress with flowing sleeves. The light coming from the dress was too bright to see any of the details of its design and it contrasted sharply with the black background behind her that spread out in every direction.

  Her eyes flickered with the same white flames he had just seen and her skin and hair began to glow with a golden white light. She glowed brighter and brighter until a shockwave emitted from her waist, parallel to the ground. It expanded, lightning fast, out into the infinite reaches of the blackness that surrounded her— like a star going supernova.

  Drakne stood there dazed as reality came back into focus. He blinked in confusion as his vision of the girl disappeared. Jharate pulled the girl down and shielded her with his own body— breaking their eye contact.

  In that same second, Drakne lost control of the magical ball and it dropped to the ground. The energy had built up so high during his hesitation— and the ball had become so large— that it exploded against the dirt in a huge cloud of dust and reddish smoke.

  “RUN FOR THE MOUNTAINS!” Arante screamed.

  Baffled, Drakne stood still as he heard the sounds of the rebels scrambling away through the smoke screen. Why had he hesitated? How had he— he who had never had a vision— how had he seen something about this girl whom he had never encountered before? And what did the vision mean?

  He shook his head deliberately. These questions would have to wait. He had to get to her before they escaped.

  “FOLLOW THEM, YOU FOOLS!” Drakne screamed to his sixty remaining men.

  The twenty surviving rebels rounded the corner into the Trazanian Mountain Pass until they came to a manmade arch in the mountain wall on their right— just inside the entrance of the pass itself.

  About twenty feet inside this cave-like opening, there was a ring-shaped object— about nine feet in diameter— reminiscent of a mirror. It looked as though it were filled with brilliantly sparkling liquid— resembling swirling multi-colored molten glitter— rather than glass. If it had been turned horizontally it would have been a pool.

  The ring was suspended in mid-air about two feet above the ground so that one could walk completely around the ring. It looked the same from both sides. It was hovering about three feet in front of an arched marble alcove, which had scrolling, repeating symbols on its edges and a heart-in-heart symbol at the top on the keystone. Looking at the ring straight on gave the illusion of its being recessed into the alcove.

  Words began to spell themselves out— rippling on its glittery surface. As they did so, a metallic female voice spoke the written words to them in rhyme— in what sounded to Lani like an upper-class British accent, with a New Zealand twist.

  Ye need not be perfect

  But evil take heed

  This ring is not harmless

  To those who deceive

  “Yeah, yeah, we know the rules of the sanctuary,” Arante hurried the voice. “We are in danger! Can we skip this part, please?”

  “Very well. But consider yourself warned.”

  The words disappeared and the rainbow colors of the glittery surface changed to blinding silver. Arante ran through the ring and disappeared within it.

  “Yeah, that looks safe!” Justin exclaimed.

  “What choice have we got?” Erik asked.

  “Move!” Kendra ordered.

  Kendra, Justin, Raoul, and Erik followed hard upon the heels of the rebels, vanishing through the ring in front of them, before jumping through themselves. Jharate and Lani were the last ones left. Jharate squeezed Lani’s hand firmly as he led her at a run through the portal, immediately behind the others.

  Drakne rounded the corner into the tunnel and quickly shot a glowing purple ball at the woman who had spawned that uncomfortable vision— a moment before she could clear the liquid-like surface. It disappeared inside of her back just as she vanished into the portal.

  Drakne straightened himself up and walked toward the ring, regarding it with a cautious eye. He approached it carefully— keeping a good three-foot distance— and listened as the powerful echoing voice of the portal began to speak.

  Ye need not be perfect

  But evil take heed

  This ring is not harmless

  To those who deceive

  You will never break through it

  Unless pure of heart

  For my magic detects frauds

  And splits them apart

  So if evil is friend to you

  And deceit is your brother

  Your feet will go one way

  Your head quite another

  But if you are pure

  In your heart and your soul

  You will not be harmed

  And I charge you no toll

  So pure of heart enter

  And take your respite

  Safety is granted

  To those who do right

  “BLAST IT ALL!”

  “Watch your language!” retorted the voi
ce.

  Drakne shot a dirty look at the portal and kicked a rock against the cave wall. This was what he had feared— blasted sanctuary! He hated this kind of good magic. It was as strong as the magic that protected the rooms in the castles. The only way to get through it was with goodness.

  Bah! It was time for a new plan. He sharply turned his back on the ring and glared at what was left of his incompetent platoon. They were standing inside the entrance a few yards behind him.

  “Since you are of no use to me whatsoever, I will be going on alone from this point.”

  His men remained still and avoided eye contact.

  “Rutghar, go back to Vranah and tell him that I will soon have what he seeks. Get there faster than humanly possible.”

  Rutghar placed his fist over his heart and bowed his head, but did not leave yet.

  “As for the rest of you— half of you will walk just outside of this tunnel back to the exit of this pass, where they were headed before we cut them off. Remain there. Face the valley to the northeast that leads to Destavnia so that they will be forced south through the main canyon between Destavnia and Trisakne.

  “Do not engage them. Let them think that they have crept past you unawares. Just make sure that they have no option but to go south through these mountains.”

  Drakne’s neck tensed and he closed his eyes briefly. He paused for a moment, before turning to speak to the rest of his men.

  “The other half of you moronic oxygen thieves will go around the mountains the other way— along the eastern shores of Lake Helasi— through the ancient mine shafts we used to get from the Forest of Kar to Asharen’s camp. Continue from the entrance to the mine in the forest on foot out of Kelamosa, through Trisakne, and into Zenastra.

  “Cut the rebels off when they come through into Zenastra— before they can reach the river in the Faerie Forest that tunnels through the Zenastran Mountains into Destavnia. If you know what’s good for you— you’ll cut them off before they exit the Trazanian Mountain Pass across the border into Zenastra. You had better double-time it because you will be going the long way and the terrain is difficult…”