Chapter Ten

CHAPTER TEN

HUMAN HEART

I peeked my head into the sixth tent. The inside also contrasted with the deceptively small exterior frame but less so than Jana’s. A young Witch, one of the original six that had taken me from Argention, sat in a large chair next to Dane’s bed, his limp hand in hers. She looked young, maybe fourteen or fifteen at the most. Light strawberry hair exploded around her unmarked, round face. She shot up from the chair upon my entrance, stumbling into a half curtsy.

“I’m sorry your—ehm, m’lady.”

I cocked my head at her formality. “Sorry for what? I’m the one owing an apology.” My gaze lingered on Dane’s bruised body. Bandages covered half his head. Large and small cuts, all sparkling with a fresh coat of salve, decorated his arms.

I shifted foot to foot at the threshold of the tent. “Is he—did I…” I nearly choked on bubbling guilt. “Will he be all right?” I asked, my question more of a plea.

“Yes, m’lady. He was caught beneath some rubble after, er, the Earth split. But it seems the boulders pinned him in such a way that protected his vitals. What luck for two boulders to fall precisely against one another—as if to prevent the other from crushing him? Almost… holding each other up. We Witches aren’t easily broken, you know. He gave us healers a run for our monies, but nothing we couldn’t handle in the end.”

My face heated with shame, regardless of whether my power or luck had protected Dane from the falling debris. But the healer’s voice was soothing. I sensed she was much older, for her foggy gray eyes told a different story than the rest of her appearance. They weren’t quite sad, but they were heavy with a weariness that is only earned.

“May I sit?” I asked. “Only if it would not bother you.”

“Oh no, I’d love the company. You are the talk of the camp anyhow, a celebrity. My fellow healers would scorn me if I didn’t take the opportunity to investigate the newcomer,” she winked at me.

I sat in the chair opposing hers. I knew the healer meant her words in humor, but I still felt she told the truth; if I shared something interesting, word would get out. A wave of exhaustion passed over me, and I let my head rest on the back of my leathery perch until it tilted upwards, my eyes unfocused on the canvas ceiling.

“What’s your name? I presume you know mine, since I’m so famous.” My words came out with more of an edge than I intended. It had been a long day.

“Sanah,” the girl replied smoothly.

“Sanah,” I repeated, turning her name over in my mouth. “What is the origin?”

“It is Nebbiolon, and not a terribly uncommon one at that. I believe the word for it is dew.” She paused, cocking her head in thought. “Specifically, it would translate to the condensation that is left after the fog rolls in.”

“It’s pretty.” I couldn’t think of more to say.

We were silent for a moment, and I blew out a breath. “Nebbiolo, Drakkar, Viribrum. All these places that are supposedly my heritage, all I’ve never heard of.” I sat up, some energy returning with my percolating thoughts. “How is that possible? Before all this, I focused on my studies, and I read voraciously. I read more fiction than not, yes, but my geography wasn’t awful. I have never seen those places on a map, never read about some… princeling or adventurer finding their way there. Nor have I heard of the Fae or Witches beyond fables. How?”

Sanah leapt to her feet, and began rummaging around Dane’s tent.

“What are you doing?” I asked, not bothering to move from the chair. “Wouldn’t Dane object to you tossing over his belongings?”

“In my professional opinion, no he would not,” Sanah smiled to herself in a way that made me feel like I wasn’t in on the joke.

“Ah, here!” She slid a dressing cabinet ajar and pulled a long tube of parchment from behind it. “I knew he had a map lying around.”

Sanah knelt on the ground, smoothing the parchment out before her, using a few odds and ends, a rock here, a bottle of herb liquid there, to weigh down the corners. I crouched beside her. The map was certainly not one I had ever studied. It looked like a version of the one I knew, but much, much larger, with my version shrunk and shoved west. The familiar piece was warped somehow, squeezed narrower.

“There.” She pointed to a small illustration of hills in the upper left corner of the map. “You know these well, the Argen hills. And there, there is Argention.”

My chest tightened and then went vacant as my fingers brushed against the spot. I bit the inside of my lip to keep the heat from my eyes. Home. So much smaller than I’d ever thought.

“These are the human lands you know of; see the Kingdoms of Teyzen, Laharam, and Salamiere.” She showed me with a trace of her fingers. “And there. You know these mountains, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I breathed. “The Adimon Mountains. After those…” I trailed off, furrowing my brow at the continuing depiction of land. “Where is the Endless Ocean?”

“The Endless Ocean is what human eyes see looking east from the Adimon range.”

What human eyes see… meaning ? —

I blinked. “It’s… a glamor?”

Her brows peaked, encouraging. “Yes. A glamored barrier to keep the human and magical realms separate. If a human were to cross it, they’d become confused and face a strong desire to return home. No one knows when it was created, though there are myths and fables that claim its origin.”

“And it’s always been this way? Separate lives—worlds—for the Fae and Witch from humankind?” I whispered, the reality of just how little I knew about my world washing over me.

“As far back as my grandmother can remember, yes. You have never crested those mountains, at least not in your human life, I take it?”

“I scarce ever left Argention.”

“What do you remember learning about the Endless Ocean?” Sanah asked.

“Strange tales, none really substantiated—but just as you explained. Travelers who got the idea to explore the Endless Ocean seldom returned. And if they did, they did so changed, confused. None in Argention left to explore it, but we are not the seafaring kind. Though, I did hear a tale from a wanderer once…”

I paused, remembering aloud. “He said the most peculiar thing—mentioning Fae, actually. I thought he was just another madman returned from the Endless Ocean, but now…”

“What did he say?” Sanah probed. I closed my eyes in concentration, willing the memory forward.

“Those who can survive beyond the barrier have more than power in body, but power in spirit. It is true, both are needed, but one aspect the rarer. Those who dwell there for their whole lives have both, but also neither, for they seldom find themselves tested. It is the interloper, the challenger, that has both advantage and disadvantage. For she sees the ways of the Fae and the Witch, maybe even comes to live by them, but she never forgets the human heart. Hers is a heart that will never grow cold.”

I opened my eyes to find Sanah staring at me, something unfamiliar on her face. I supposed the recitation was strange—it shocked me that I even remembered the whole thing. But before I could say more, she shook her head. “Sounds like a human with a scrambled head.”

Everything I’d known had been turned over. Now, the wanderer’s message felt more pregnant with meaning than ever.

But Sanah moved on, leaving my confusion in her wake. “We are headed to Valfalla, the capital city of Viribrum. Your father’s homeland, remember? Nebbiolo is off the coast of Viribrum. See here.” Sanah pointed to an island. “That is where I am from. You, too, were born there.”

“The Witch queendom.”

She nodded.

“And Dane?” I looked at him rather than Sanah, his chest rattling as it rose and fell. Even with medicine, he must have been in immense pain.

“He is Drakkarian.” Her words came out heavy.

My earlier conversation with Jana came back to me. The Viri King and Nebbiolon Queen publicly blamed Drakkarian operatives for your presumed death. The king has been using your disappearance to stoke the public’s desire for war.

“So any love between a Nebbiolon and a Drakkarian would be frowned upon… given the… tensions,” I ventured.

Sanah released a hollow laugh. “Try forbidden, not frowned upon.”

Interesting. “Is that why you’re here?”

She gave me a sad smile. “It would be nice if we could be together without giving up our families. It may be na?ve of me, but I believe in a better world. An ambitious goal that starts with one small step. One you can help us take.”

Nausea roiled in my belly. These strangers’ faith in me still felt far-fetched and misplaced. What if my return to Viribrum didn’t make things right? What if they were wrong and showing my face wasn’t enough to quell whatever tensions were brewing?

I swallowed the doubt—tamping it far down—and instead pulled on the little thread of fire that laced itself around my heart. It doesn’t matter. Only Fayzien. Justice matters.

I rose. “Sanah, thank you… for the information.”

“How’s he doing?” she asked as I made my way to the exit. I knew she didn’t refer to the patient beside her.

I shrugged. “I think okay. When he changed—back to his usual form, I mean… I’ve never seen anything like it. He was… an animal that had lost its mind. Rabid,” my eyes grew glassy, recalling Ezren’s feral expression, the beast that was trapped within him, begging to be let out. I chuckled. “You would think the craziest thing to me would be seeing his Dragon form. That seemed a lot more natural than what came after.” I shuddered.

Sanah sucked in a breath. “Terra, you should try to stay away from Ezren. It’s not my story to tell, but he’s… troubled, I would say. I know you may feel indebted to him for saving your life, but I would keep my distance if I were you.”

I dipped my head, unsure of how to respond. Though its exact meaning was vague, her warning didn’t shock me. Ezren’s eyes alone seemed dangerous.

“Thank you again for your lessons tonight, Sanah. It was nice to meet you.” And then I set out to find a bed.

I woke on the cot provided to me, this time verifying the tent belonged to no one else. I slept without dreaming, exhausted from the events of the day. Rolling over, I saw Leiya’s familiar shorn fire redhead bent over, examining the point of her blade.

“Good morning, watchdog,” I croaked, my voice hoarse from a deep sleep.

At that, she grinned. “Yer quite a self-important lassie, hey, te think I’ve been watchin’ ye all night. Nay, I’ve jest been here a few minutes. Yer to report te Jana immediately.”

I opened one eye to regard her, still adjusting to the morning light. “I agreed to accompany you all to Viribrum, not to be at Jana’s beck and call.”

Leiya rolled her eyes. “Et es about Fayzien, lass. She needs yer help te… assess hem as a threat,” she said, her tone soft.

The name turned my insides to ice and my throat to ash. I closed my eyes, willing away his image. “All right.”

When I walked into the tent, everyone sat at the long table. Except Ezren. He stood at the far end, one arm in a sling, the other resting on the back of a chair. He seemed to be positioned as far from the entrance—or from me—as possible.

“Good morning, Terra,” Jana said. “Please take a seat.”

I obliged.

“I promise to ask this of you only once. Given yesterday’s events, we are worried that Fayzien will be notified of our location. The Earth splitting was likely heard and felt widely by anyone with Fae hearing. We have already stayed in this location for several days too long. In order to move safely, we need to know everything about Fayzien’s goals and plans. Could you tell us about the night he came to Argention? I know this will be difficult, given what he did to your family, but it is crucial to spare no detail.”

The room’s attention turned to me. I hadn’t bothered to wash after falling into the crevice, and the subsequent battle on the cliffs. I swallowed, my skin itching. I had no desire to remember the events Fayzien brought to Argention, let alone in front of a group of strangers.

Leiya laid a comforting hand on my shoulder. I looked up at her, and she gave me an almost imperceptible nod.

“I’ll try.” My voice sounded distant to my own ears like I was separating from my body to prepare for reliving the horror.

“I first noticed Fayzien in the market the day before Spring Day. Spring Day is a matching ceremony for the young people of Argention. He’d been with four other men, all hooded and as large as he. I didn’t see him again until the following evening when he made a claim for my bridehood. Given the amount of gold he offered, the Matron accepted his price without providing me my rightful chance to accept or reject his proposal.

“I ran home, hoping my parents would reason with the Matron. But he caught up to me.” I paused, my eyes closing at the memory.

“He stood in front of me, and suddenly I was on the ground, my clothes missing.” Heat traveled into my cheeks upon discussing my nakedness with strangers. “He did something to me then. I am not sure what, but it hurt. He only touched his hand to mine, but I felt him; I felt him inside of me. As if he traveled into me through my fingertips. And went everywhere,” I whispered. My gaze remained fixed on the table, unmoving.

“Terra.” Jana’s face softened, her tone too gentle. “Would you say he sent his magic through you? Does that feel accurate?” Her words resonated.

“Yes,” I breathed. “It does. The sensation hurt, like a… burn weaving through me.”

“And he went everywhere with his magic?” she asked, her voice low and steady. Her eyes traveled to my womanhood.

I nodded, my tongue coated with disgust.

I ventured a look at the group, shame thick in my throat. Shame that only grew thicker when my eyes landed on Ezren’s back, moving through the opening of the tent.

I stared at the flap for several moments.

He left.

Mortification was a cresting wave, breaking on my cheeks, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

Jana cleared her throat, and I looked back at her. “R-right,” I stuttered, shaking my head. “Where was I?”

“Fayzien sending his magic through you, dear. Will you be able to finish?”

“Yes.” I said, wanting to get the rest over as quickly as possible. And I did. I told them of our following conversation, of how Fayzien said he acted on behalf of his queen, how she had some mysterious use for me, and how he had expected me to go with him willingly on account of his beauty . I told them of my escape, how we battled on the bridge. I told them how I made it back to my cottage, how I crept through the passage to the crawl space under our living room.

“I hid beneath the floorboards, watching Fayzien scream at her. It happened fast—she was standing one minute, shaking, afraid. And then she wasn’t. And I did nothing to save her.” I whispered the last part, pressing the jagged part of my nail into my palm to keep the tears from flowing. “After that, I just laid there, hoping I would die too. That somehow I would go to whatever place she did.”

“Terra, there is nothing you could have done,” Jana said, her voice firm yet tender. “You have to know that.”

Even if my rational mind agreed, my heart wasn’t prepared to listen. Her words floated past me, skimming the surface of the dark black well those memories lived in. I nodded absently and continued. I told them about the Earth, how it closed up around me in what I’d thought was a coffin, but now seemed to be a shield. About how I woke to the sound of their voices, confused and afraid.

And then I was done.

Jana tapped two fingers on her lips. “Interesting that he could not track you. He should have been able to, given he sent his magic through you.” She shook her head and rose. “Thank you, Terra of Argention, for your bravery in telling us your story.” She placed a hand over her heart, touching the necklace she always wore. “I promise to you, on my Siphon, this sacred bur oak that feeds my power, I will aid you in obtaining justice for Fayzien’s wrongdoing to you and your family. In front of my council, I swear this.” And then she hinged at the waist and bowed to me.

Leiya cleared her throat behind me. “I, too, swear,” she said, her eyes bright. The rest of the room rose, repeating the words in an echo of promises.

My chest swelled, and I beamed in awe at their gestures. I rose, placing my hand to my heart, a bizarre sense of camaraderie descending across the tent. Though I was still unsure if they could keep their vows, I sensed a truth amongst the group—even amongst those I didn’t know. As if they felt Fayzien’s wrongdoing against me was a wrongdoing against them, too.

“And I swear to journey to Viribrum, to aid however I can in your attempt to prevent the death of the innocent Fae and Witches of Viribrum and Drakkar.”

I left Jana and her advisors to discuss strategy. I made my way back to the coach path, eventually reaching the creek I had found a few days before. I removed my tattered shirt, filthy trousers, and blood-stained boots, and stepped into the frigid water. It stretched only about a dozen yards wide but deep enough that it reached the middle of my stomach while standing. I lowered myself, and the water flowed around me, covering my head.

I stayed there, under the surface, for as long as I could bear. I let the cool water wash away the memories that hurt and bring in the ones I’d forgotten. Maybe it was the stillness—but more glimpses came. Images of my birth father across the dinner table cutting into a piece of well-prepared meat, a teacher reprimanding me for reading a novel under my desk during lessons, playing in the dirt with the golden-purple-eyed boy. The memories were full of ample treats, tutors, and nannies—I was comfortable in my previous life, in a way I hadn’t been in Argention. It made sense if I truly was the daughter of a famed warrior. But everything felt hazy. The images were soft, like gauze. Details of them were clear—I saw the purple-golden eyes of my young friend as if I stared into them in the present. But who he was lingered on the tip of my tongue, as did the remaining pieces of the puzzle I felt were missing. Eventually, I saw a woman, beaming with a gentle roundness in her face that matched my own.

An abrupt disturbance in the water pulled me from my peaceful exercise. Strong arms yanked me up, air filling my lungs once again. “What the hell!” I half yelled, half sputtered, annoyed at the interruption and rough handling. I brushed the hair from my eyes, expecting to find Leiya frowning over me. But I was staring at wet linen, stuck to the curvature of a heaving, tanned male chest.

The rage boiling on Ezren’s face took me aback. “What?” I demanded, meeting his anger with my own.

“I came to apologize for yesterday, Bellatori ,” he bit out, maintaining a guarded control in his voice. “But I see you are just hellbent on killing yourself. I suppose my first rescue wasn’t sufficient?”

I gaped, stunned at his audacity and cavalier tone. I forced my chin upward so that I could meet his eyes, even though we stood so close I could feel the steam roll off his body.

“How dare you assume what I do or don’t want after what I’ve been through.” My words were deadly quiet. “Do you know how it feels to stand by and watch your life, and everyone you love, being ripped away from you? To be violated in a way you couldn’t even understand, helpless to stop it? To watch the life leave the woman who raised you, who loved you, who cared for you when you were ill, and shared in your joy and your pain? Do you know what it’s like to know you did nothing to stop her death, and that you’ll never see her smile again, never hear your brothers laugh again, never feel the comforting touch of your father again? I suppose you do not . So how dare you reprimand me if I wanted to die.” I paused, letting the heat of my words settle on him. “And for the record—I never tried to kill myself. I just didn’t fight the Earth splitting.”

Ezren’s eyes flashed down at me with a look that was both softer and harder at the same time. They snagged on my dragon pendant and his gaze turned molten before dragging back to my face.

“Actually, Terra, I do know.”

“You do?” Though a small part of me stumbled within, my tone was haughty, and I maintained my stare.

“Let me guess,” he purred, those green eyes practically glowing. “It feels like a hole has been gouged into your chest? Like you’ve been flayed, ripped open for the world to see, vulnerable to whatever or whoever wants to tear into you. The grief is so overwhelming, it might just rise up and swallow you whole, which might even be a mercy, because you’ll never be forced to wake, remember, wake, remember, wake, remember—ever again.”

Whatever mask of indifference and anger I’d been maintaining shattered. He shook his head, almost in disgust.

“I lost my father when I was very young, barely fourteen. What I remember of him is cruel and difficult. I never knew my mother and lived a life largely in hiding. I found love again—once, but she, too, left me. I’ve been abandoned by every person I’ve ever loved. So yes, I know the pain of being utterly alone in this world, powerless to do anything about it.”

The glimpse into the warrior’s past—the reasons for his frost and distance—fissured my hard exterior, letting shame seep through the cracks. I’d judged him, so lost in my own pain, I couldn’t imagine another’s suffering. And he’d seen me, described exactly how I’d felt. “Ezren, I’m so sorry?—”

He looked away, uninterested in my apology. “There is no difference between not fighting for life and wanting to die. You didn’t just lose control of your power… you submitted to it. You let the Earth mirror your internal world—mirror that hole in your chest, ripping wide and swallowing you whole. You could have killed Dane.”

At that, I flinched, which seemed to cause his cold mask to slip once more. His eyes did not let go of mine. Awareness of him hit me—of every outline of his chest and abdomen, defined by his wet, clinging shirt, rolled up at the sleeves. I could see the veins that danced down his forearms, invigorated by the clenching of his hands at his sides. His jaw was tight, flexing at the hinges to make it wider, the angles of his face even more dramatic than they already were. His waved hair dripped down his forehead in a tousled male way. He looked like a true warrior. All of that couldn’t compare to his eyes. I almost tasted their flames; the heat of his gaze threatened to burn me from the inside out.

Maybe that’s why Sanah called him dangerous.

Something traitorous tingled in my low belly. I ignored it, forcing myself to loosen an exhale, turning to climb out of the water. He remained silent for a few moments longer, unmoving from his position while I dressed.

Ezren released a breath as if he’d been holding in air the entire time we stood close. And then he spoke, breaking the silence that frayed my every nerve. “I’m sorry for the cliffs. Leiya told me what happened. I’m sorry I hurt you, and I’m sorry for… I am sorry for the other thing, too. I’ve never done that before, and I’m truly horrified at the thought of it,” he said, his voice low.

My cheeks flushed as he spoke, my fingers fumbling with the buttons as I faced away from him.

“I’m not sorry for saving you. You have immense power, but you have no idea how to control it. I understand that. Believe me, I do. And I also know what it feels like to have blood on your hands from a lack of control. You have to be smarter—stronger. If you treat your power and your life carelessly again, you might do something you’ll regret.”

I waited a few moments before speaking, my arms wrapped around my chilled body, his apology and warning lingering in the air.

I turned to face him. “How did you know I was falling into the Earth?”

Surprise flickered over his face.

“What do you mean, how did I know?” he asked, cocking his head.

I sighed. “I mean, how did you know I was in trouble? Everyone heard and felt the Earth split, but how did you know that someone, or that I, was falling through the crevice and needed to be saved?”

His eyes remained alight. “Terra, you called for me.”