Tempered Hearts (Hearts of Valentia Book 1) (27 page)

It had been weeks since she’d known the security of her best friend’s council, and her bond with Calla felt as natural as it was with Paitra. She listened patiently as she explained her hopes, and her fears they might never come to pass. She had a kingdom at her feet and all she wanted was the heart of a man that belonged to someone else. Every comfort in the world was there for her asking. All but the only comfort she longed for.

When Arden stilled to only the occasional sniffle, Calla finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “The Ansere’th call him masareh. Do you know why?”

She shook her head. “She called him that. Is it not only her?”

“No, riyah. We call him the brightest flame because his heart burns as a bonfire, no matter what he’s set out to do. As long as we’ve known him, he’s fought in the same way he’s loved, with great bursts and power. And yet, flames that burn so hot often extinguish the soonest, and it was what we feared for him. Is that how you see him?”

At last she eased away, her thoughts drawing inward. “No. Perhaps little embers here and there, but when I’m with him, it’s not a fire I see. I call him kendala for a reason. His sadness permeates his every movement, every word. All I want is to see him happy, but I don’t know if I can give him that. How can I mend what’s been broken in him?”

“I didn’t know him well then,” Calla handed her the tea, long since cold, “but from what you say, I think much has changed since last I saw him. If so, that’s to your benefit.”

“I want to believe you, but—”

“When flames die out, what’s left is hot coals. Well-tended, a single piece can last for days, stoking other fires. It becomes something capable of roasting a meal without scorching it. It strengthens weapons. It’s no longer destructive in the right hands, and can provide and create. I think masareh has become like that, now ready to be something more, as the Ta’Mareth always told him he would be.”

Arden’s gaze fell to the bottom of her cup, sinking as low as her spirits. “And if he’s only the ashes?”

Calla tipped her chin up, her face full of kindness. “A man such as he will never be ashes until the day he ceases to breathe. Trust in yourself, asahan’dri, and trust in him. You will find the way for the both of you.”

She wanted to believe her with every part of herself, but her mind drifted back to the moment she saw him as Naya’s blade cut into her skin.

He’d said “us,” not “me.”

Chapter 27

Darius

“Stop pacing, you’re killing the vegetation.” Vennic ran an arrowhead over the whet stone, pausing a moment to blow off the fine dust from sharpening it.

“She’s avoiding me, and you know how well I deal with that,” Darius snapped at him. “I’ve no idea what she’s being told about me in that tent. It’s not like I’m there to defend myself.”

The most frustrating part of his afternoon had been in learning the elf Arden was visiting also happened to be the clan’s secret keeper. The tent was imbued with magic that made it impossible to listen in on what was being said or gauge how upset Arden was. It wasn’t that he wanted to encroach on her privacy, but his stomach became a mass of knots the moment he laid eyes on Naya. He needed to know Arden would be all right, that there might be something he could do to assuage her fears.

“Calla may offer counsel, but I don’t think you’ve anything to worry about,” Vennic said, interrupting his thoughts. “Were she born Ansere’th, I’ve no doubt she’d have become our next Ta’Mareth. As it is, that she’s become
ehsa alhem
is a great show of faith in her, a measure of trust few outside the natural born clan ever receive. If you’re concerned she’ll misguide Arden, you’ve no reason for it.”

“I only want to know she’s all right. Am I not entitled to worry about my—” His words stuck in his throat as Naya rounded the corner of the Ansere’th armory, deep in conversation with two of the party that met them on the road. He couldn’t quite describe how, but she was much changed since their parting. The anxious lines in the corners of her eyes and across her forehead seemed less prevalent, and her constant edginess was replaced by stoic vigilance. Even the way she moved was strange to him. Was the elata’hem training responsible?

“We’ll set out for it first thing in the morning,” she said to the men she was with. “There’s no need to risk the darkness. We’ve posted watches nearby.”

The two gave a brief bow before slipping away, and Naya turned to him, a distant smile for a lukewarm greeting.

“Is something the matter?” he asked, curious to know what might worry an elata’hem.

She removed her bow and quiver, leaning it in a precise position inside the weapons tent. “That’s what we’re trying to decide, masareh. We’ve come across something in a newly reclaimed area we’re unable to judge as safe just yet.”

“Some sort of ancient elvish ritual site? Those are always impossibly hazardous.”

“We can’t tell yet, but we’ve only seen it from a distance. It’s a water source, perhaps from a spring. Completely still, and clear as glass. There’s a strange aura about it, so we’ve been skirting it for a day or two, slowly working our way closer.”

Vennic met his startled look with an understanding one. “You think it could be the source?”

“I’d have to check the map, but it stands to reason.” Darius turned back to Naya. “No one’s touched it yet, have they?”

“Not that I know of. Why?”

Doing some quick calculations in his head, he tried to match up the map they took from Ogtern to what he knew of the Ansere’th lands. Not making much progress, he motioned for the two of them to follow. They headed for where they set up camp towards the eastern edge of the settlement and ducked inside his tent. The tube containing the map the dwarves gave them sat atop Arden’s trunk, a tiny twinge of guilt causing him to wonder if perhaps he shouldn’t have waited for her to return, but he had no idea when that would be. For all he knew, she’d forgo their tent entirely and beg the hospitality of Calla’s family instead.

Vennic cleared his throat, prompting him back into action.

“There’s a strange illness plaguing the miners of Ogtern Mountain, and the only suspected cause is a recently discovered underground spring. It runs completely clear and gathers in a single spot, but there’s no apparent drainage I could see. It…” He struggled to put it into words. “It’s difficult to explain. There’s a feeling about it, something unsettling, but nothing I can put a name to.”

Naya crossed her arms, her brows bunching into a thoughtful scowl he recognized very well. “The illness. How does it present?”

“Similar to hega rhotaru, without conversion. Death can take up to two weeks, but it’s always fatal.”

She tilted her head back, staring at the tent ceiling, but said nothing more.

Fidgety, Darius opened the end of the tube and removed the map, spreading it out on top of the trunk. “Based on the dwarven estimations of where that tunnel was dug, we’ve determined the source of the spring is somewhere here.” He indicated a section of land to the south of the encampment. “At the time this map was drawn, these were part of the Blighted Sands, fairly deep into it, given the age of the survey and how much progress has been made in reclamation since then. Is this near the water source you were speaking of?”

She studied the map a while, tracing a slender finger across the parchment until she found what she was looking for. “Water travels far where our eyes cannot see, but yes. The oasis is roughly here.”

Darius nodded, glad to have at least one mystery solved. “Spread word that no one is to touch the water there, and they should likely avoid eating anything within its general vicinity. I’d bet my crown this spring has something foul within it, but until we know what, there’s nothing more we can do than avoid contact with it.”

“We’re setting out in the morning to investigate,” Naya said. “Would you want to come along?”

He nodded. “Yes, I think that’s best.”

Vennic straightened and headed for the exit. “I’ll go inform the company. You, Ehlren and I should go, but the rest will stay behind. I’ll let them know we leave at first light.”

Before he could stop him, Vennic was gone, leaving Darius alone with Naya for the first time since they’d parted ways. The awkward silence hung heavy in the tent, both of them struggling with the weight of their situation.

“I…” he began clumsily. “How are you, really? You look… very well.”

She crossed her arms and leaned back a little, gracing him with a small, soft smile. “I am doing well. Beingelata’hem feels… good. It fits me better than I ever imagined it would. It’s not been an easy path, but little else would be as rewarding.”

He nodded, frowning at the map as he tried to think of something else to say.

“And you, Darius?” she asked. “I can’t imagine it’s been an easy transition for you.”

Scratching the back of his neck, he grimaced. “Well, I don’t think it’s been particularly easy for her, either.”

Naya coughed into her fist to hide a chuckle. “I meant the throne, but I suppose there’s that as well.”

His ears heated. Of course she was talking about becoming king. Naya was always much better at difficult conversations than he was, handling them with the same skill she had with a knife. There was no reason she’d dive into the topic of his marriage straight off.

“Ah, yes, that. You know how interested I am in politics, so it’s been—”

“Darius.”

Looking up, he met her stern look. “Yes?”

Her expression softened, and she set a hand on his shoulder. “It’s all right. We knew this would happen. I made my peace with it a while ago. You should as well.”

“It’s not as easy as that.” He sighed and lifted a hand, barely brushing his fingers along her cheek. “If it were as simple as cutting out a part of myself, I could do so, but I—”

A movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he turned in time to see Arden’s dark braid vanishing as the tent flap closed behind her. Frozen in shock, he couldn’t decide what to do. If he went after her, what would he say? If he didn’t go after her, what would she think?

His body decided for him, and he sprinted out of the tent, scanning every direction for where she’d gone. He could only imagine what she must’ve been thinking, walking in on such a confession from him, but she hadn’t heard even half of what he was going to say. In the seconds her presence registered, his heart burned with such an ache his head was finally beginning to understand how deep his feelings ran.

“You never were particularly smart when it came to dealing with the opposite sex,” Naya murmured as Darius continued to scan in every direction. “It’s funny to see some things will likely never change. I admire your consistency.”

He spun on her, slightly frantic. “Help me find her. She may have run off into the woods, and dangerous things still prowl at night that have nothing to do with haegaroi. I can’t check in every direction at once, but we can find her between the two of us. She probably hasn’t gotten far yet.”

Naya chuckled and headed off to the woods on the right, walking backwards. “And it won’t be at all uncomfortable if I find her first.” She paused and thought for a moment. “Actually, it might be better for you if I do. Shall I take my time then, masareh?”

He gritted his teeth and headed the opposite way. “Find her first. That’s all that’s important.”

Darius scoured the ground for any trace of footsteps, but Arden weighed so little, and the ground was so littered with bootprints he made next to no progress before he started examining the tree line. Vague traces of a deer run offered something in the way of a clearer path, with a twig newly broken on the ground, so he took his chances, heading into the dense forest to find his wife.

Arden

About ten minutes away from camp, logic returned, but by then it was a little late to start thinking straight.

The snippet of conversation Arden walked in on left her bruised. The way he reached out to touch Naya’s face, with so much tenderness in his gaze, tore away at the small piece of her heart that had begun to hope for him.

She sank down at the base of a tree, holding her face in her hands, but refusing to cry. The Light of Valentia must be strong. The Light of Valentia must not shatter as a pane of glass in a storm.

Above all, she felt immensely stupid. A crown
and
love? Was there ever such a deluded, childish dream? What nonsense filled her head that she’d entertain such a notion?

Taking a shaky breath, she answered her own questions. It may have been stupid, deluded, and childish, but, for a handful of moments, it felt possible. His gaze had turned from guarded and sad, to warm and hopeful in the weeks they’d known each other. At times, he showed her so much care she was certain he was falling as hard as she had. Perhaps all of that was an act: a means of placating a silly girl. Had that very thing not crossed her mind before? Somewhere along the line she discarded that possibility, but it haunted her there in the darkening forest near the Ansere’th. Others used the same strategy with much success in court. Playing ignorant inspired others to let their guard down, got them to spill secrets that made them easier to manipulate. Had she been duped in every second she’d spent with him?

She frowned at her thoughts. Believing such a thing meant those closest to him had been a part of that conspiracy. Vennic, Ehlren, Duke Ingram… they’d all played vital roles in the deception if it were true. No matter how unsure she was about Darius, she knew she could trust at least the dwarf and the elf. Ingram was more skilled than most when it came to subterfuge, but she doubted he would use such a tactic on her. She was not a problem to be handled; she was a beautiful, intelligent woman with many skills of her own.

Iron, steel, granite, gold.

She leaned her head back against the smooth bark of the tree, her arms resting on bent knees. As evening descended, she took in a deep breath of cool air, inhaling all the scents of the woods around her. Night blooming flowers began to open, releasing their exotic perfumes. The moss held on to traces of rain, the damp earth. A single, twittering bird took flight from the branches above her, and she envied the freedom it had for an appreciative moment.

“If you’re considering running away…” The sound of Naya’s voice sent her scrambling to her feet.“I don’t think you’ll get far without a few supplies.”

Arden’s shoulders stiffened.“I don’t run away from my problems.”

“Appearances say otherwise.”

Irritated the woman had the nerve to accuse her of cowardice, she stepped towards her and glared.“If you’re as familiar with battle as I hear tell, you know the value in retreat, in gathering your forces for a rally against the enemy.”

She crossed her arms and leaned up against the tree Arden had been sitting under.“I’m not your enemy.”

“Your knife against my neck earlier tells me otherwise.”

Releasing a long sigh, Naya eased herself to sit. “I am sorry about that. I didn’t see your truth at first, asahan’dri.”

“And then there’s the other thing as well.” She scowled, unable to relax.

She shrugged. “A moment between two old friends, of which you only saw a tiny portion.”

“It’s that it was only a tiny portion that worries me.”

“Sit with me a moment, riyah.” She motioned to the grass in front of her. “I think it’s best if we speak truthfully with each other now. Waiting does neither of us any favors.”

Logically, Arden knew she was correct, but it was hard to give her any ground. As she did when dealing with her mother, she set her feelings aside for the moment, seeing wisdom in gathering more information on her problem. A large rock was embedded at the base of a tree across from her, and she perched atop it, ready to leave if the need presented itself.

“Do you know what it means to be elata’hem?”

A few details trickled through her memory, but it wasn’t much. “A little.”

“Only a handful in each generation are chosen for the path. We are guardians for our people, but we are also keepers of knowledge, a little like a Ta’Mareth. Our knowledge is generally older, however, but less to do with life and more about monsters and magic. The process for becoming elata’hem is painful. When we drink from the Waters of D’Sandrei, who we were is broken, replaced by something else, our former selves becoming nothing more than distant memories. We remember our heartaches and our triumphs, but they no longer define us. We share minds with spirits long since passed from this world, their words guiding us as we protect our people. Do you understand,asahan’dri?”