Tempered Hearts (Hearts of Valentia Book 1) (29 page)

“I know her some, but she’s spent much time away from the tribe, learning her craft. From what I know of her, she’s faced many of those monsters, and Garethell has every faith in her. I can’t say with any certainty what makes her so restless, but it seems unnatural to me.”

He cursed under his breath. “We haven’t the numbers to leave her behind with a guard, and I’m not comfortable going forward with her. What do you suggest we—”

Shouts from the camp carried through the trees, bringing an abrupt halt to the conversation. Sprinting, they ran towards the commotion, arriving in time to see Ren disappearing in the direction of the spring, the rest of the party on her heels as they cut diagonally through the brush to intercept her. Naya and Darius dashed ahead, the closest of anyone to catching her. The mage wasn’t nearly as adept as the two of them, and they’d nearly stopped her when the telltale sparkle of water came into view.

“
I hear it! I hear the song!
” Ren cried, her hands reaching out to the spring.

As Darius raced forward, the surface of the liquid frothed, gathering and twisting up into the air. A single, coiling tentacle rose up, pulling back to strike at the crazed mage. What song did she hear? What magic caused her sudden madness?

The woman stopped at the edge of the spring, head tilted back and arms flung wide to accept whatever evil reached for her. Rather than his sword, the first thing he touched was Arden’s dagger. Fingers wrapped around the hilt, he lunged forward, pushing the mage away as he slashed at the liquid limb. Icy cold water blasted his face, and an unearthly scream pierced his ears as he fell back on the ground, clutching his head. Forcing himself to look, he could barely see through the fog of black steam as it spiraled up and into the sky. A great whirlwind shook the forest, pulling at everything around it, including him, and it took all his strength to keep from being sucked in. After a small eternity, the screeching died away, the last vestiges of the spring fading from view as it disappeared into the air.

He remained on his knees, catching his breath and wiping away the moisture from his face. As he brought his hand away, he froze.

The water touched his skin.

Certainly some found its way to his tongue.

Picking up the dropped dagger, he held it before him and closed his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, asahana,” he whispered to himself. “It seems I’m fated to disappoint you.”

Chapter 29

Arden

As the sun went down, Arden paced, so nervous she thought she’d lose what little she managed to eat at dinner. Everyone she spoke to that day tried to assure her the scouting party would be fine, but she couldn’t shake her feeling of foreboding. It’d been with her since that morning, but the later it got, the more certain she became something horrific happened.

An hour after full dark, she walked the camp, near the trail they took to the spring. She tugged at the sleeve of her tunic, twisting the cuff until she heard a seam snap.

“You must be patient, asahan’dri,” Calla’s hand on her shoulder made her jump, her heart racing at the contact. Calla grinned a little at her reaction. “This is routine for the ata lamorah, and a simple matter for an elata’hem. He is perfectly safe, as are your friends.”

Arden shook her head. “They’re late. I feel it. Something’s happened. How is everyone so calm? I should never have let him go. He’s too important, and not only to me. If he—”

At the rustling of leaves, she spun around. As she searched the tree line, the first of the elven guards emerged from the forest, but nothing in his expression gave her any indication of the outcome. Soon after, Naya appeared, her hand on the back of the mage who’d gone along. The girl was shaking, her eyes puffy and red-rimmed from crying. The warrior only spared Arden a glance and an unreadable nod before she was off, leaving the mage to Calla’s care as she said something about the Ta’Mareth. The last guard soon followed, with a grim-faced Ehlren not far behind. The moment he saw her, his eyes darted away, and he hurried off in the direction Naya’d gone.

Her throat burning with threatening tears, she stared into the woods, willing Darius to show himself. When she caught sight of Vennic, she nearly screamed for him to give her the news, but the second before she could, the only person she wanted to see finally appeared.

Frozen where she stood, Arden was torn between running into his arms and collapsing to the ground in sobs. The longer she watched them, the less relieved she felt. They stopped just before the edge of the trees and spoke quietly to each other. Darius sighed and nodded, and Vennic left him, giving Arden a sad, but reassuring smile as he passed.

When Darius finally approached her, he looked exhausted. “We need to talk, asahana,” was all he said before motioning her to follow.

Her heart preemptively broke as he turned away, heading for their tent. Whatever news he had was likely going to be very bad. Had he decided, then? Was he choosing his memories over her?

Darius disappeared inside, not waiting for her at the entrance. As she reached for the flap, she tried to slow her breathing, but her head was spinning. What if she made a grave mistake in pushing him the night before, and her error was going to cost her everything she hoped for with him? She’d been so certain it was the right thing to do, but what if she was horribly wrong and only succeeded in closing his heart to her permanently?

Trembling, Arden stepped inside.

Darius was removing his leather armor, her dagger atop her trunk and his sword beside it. He said nothing as she stood there, boring holes into the ground with her stare as he stripped down to his pants and tunic.

“Arden, I…” he said, pausing to turn and look at her.

She shut her eyes tight, willing herself not to cry.

“Asahana?”

“Just say it,” she whispered, hoarse. “I can’t—”

“I love you, Arden.”

She choked, the air stuck in her lungs. Had she heard him right, or did she imagine it? Slowly, she opened her eyes, searching his face for the truth.

“What?” The word came out as little more than a breath.

He stepped towards her, lifting his hand as though he meant to touch her, but he paused. “I love you, and I needed you to hear me say that before anything else.”

Shocked, she took two steps closer, but he held up a hand, stopping her. “Wait. There’s more, and you need to know. I won’t let you hear it from anyone else.”

Her lips trembled, happy at his confession, but confused about his insistence at keeping her away, and her emotions were at a breaking point. “What more matters?”

As his arms dropped to his sides, he sighed, then pulled up the hem of his shirt. Startled, she wasn’t sure how to react. Did he think that was all it took to get a woman into bed? Was he lying to appease her?

But as the fabric peeled away from his body, the reason for everything— the expressions of the scouting party, the way he was acting— all of it was explained.

Subtle, dark bruises colored the skin across his stomach and chest, the same as she’d seen on the victims in Ogtern. She sucked in a gasp and staggered back, fingers covering her mouth to keep from screaming.

“Naya says they’re called
vrata gesh
, the corrupting waters. The mage we brought with us reacted…Unexpectedly. When she said she could hear the song, Naya knew what it was. It’s where mages are turned dark. The evil in the waters binds to their magic. Were it not for my intervention with your dagger, our problems would be much greater.”

Arden sank to her knees, unable to comprehend the situation. “How long?”

He knelt in front of her, still unwilling to touch her. “Because I encountered it at the source, the effects are faster. The dwarves of Ogtern handled it after it was filtered and purified by rocks, so it takes longer for them to succumb.”

His face blurred through her tears. “There must be something we can do. Surely the elves—”

Darius shook his head. “Naya and Vennic are speaking with Garethell now, but this magic… it’s very old, asahana. Not even the elata’hem know how to stop it.”

Shaking, she reached out, skimming her fingertips along a discoloration over his heart. “It isn’t fair.” She managed through a sob. “We were almost there, kendala. How can I lose you now? To this? Asahan’dril or no, if you leave me, there will be no light left within me. My heart cannot bear this.”

Instantly, his arms wrapped around her, enveloping her in tender warmth. She crumpled against him, clinging to him as though she could stop the curse by sheer force of will. How could fate give her his love at last, only to rip it from her before she knew it true? Life was often harsh, but such a cruelty was unthinkable.

“There’s much to do, and not near enough time to do it all,” he whispered into her hair, “but by my last I will make sure you keep your place, Arden. My stubbornness should not cause you to lose hope. If anyone can heal this broken land, it’s you, and if I must send birds to Dulaine every hour remaining to me, you will have your crown for good.”

“What good is that without you?” she sobbed against him. “How could I possibly—”

He pulled her tighter to him. “You can and you must. Ingram knew exactly what he was doing when he matched us, asahana. You are the ruler I could never be, and you’ve shown that in every action you take and every word you speak. If, for no other reason, do it because I ask you to. Promise me you’ll see Valentia strong again.”

See Valentia strong? What strength could she possibly give a kingdom after being forced to watch the man who made her soul sing die in agony?

“Do you love me, asahana?”

Her fingers dug into his back, her face burrowing into his chest. “More than life, kendala.”

His hand drifted up to her jaw, and he pulled away to look at her. “Then, please, promise me you’ll do what I ask.”

Gazing up at him, she could already see his face had lost some color. Terrified of what was coming, she lifted up and kissed him, silently pleading with gods and spirits for help.

Pressing her forehead to his, Arden sighed, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I promise. I will care for our people, showing them all the love I would give to you.”

✵

A full day passed before he could no longer stand.

Even then, Darius continued to write as many letters as he was able, sending no fewer than twenty birds between those that went to Castle Dulaine and the ones for Aerenhall. Arden knew, despite his efforts, that none would get there in time to bring back an answer before he took his last breath.

As Darius wrote, she exhausted every option she could think of to save him. Garethell spent hours talking with her and Naya. They pored over all the ancient texts the Ansere’th had in their possession. Naya sank into deep meditation, communing with elven spirits who might have some knowledge of the
vrata gesh
. The herbalist in camp brewed endless potions, mostly hoping to buy them time to find a cure, and the mage, Ren, exhausted herself in attempting healing spells to slow the progress of the corruption or ease his pain.

By the third day, Arden was near to breaking. What sleep she got was riddled with nightmares, and she woke constantly, terrified of missing a single moment with him. When Vennic came with lunch, he immediately ordered her out, insisting she take a walk to clear her head. She refused at first, but Darius took her hand and smiled at her, promising he’d be right there when she returned.

It took several minutes before her vision adjusted to the brightness of midday. She rubbed her tired eyes, only used to dim candlelight after so long in the tent. It wouldn’t be long before anything but pitch black darkness caused him immense pain.

She agreed to a single trip around the encampment and no more, so she set out at a brisk pace, anxious to return to Darius. At the far southern end, she came across a tent she’d not seen before, tucked away between some trees. Beside it, work tables sat around a small forge, and there were similar tools there as the blacksmith had, but also dozens of jars containing powders, broken crystals, and shards of rare metals.

As she paused there, looking at the station, the oldest elf she’d ever seen edged her way out of the tent. She was nearly doubled over her back was so bent, and her bronzed skin was more wrinkled than dried prunes. When she noticed Arden, she grinned, perfect white teeth gleaming at her.

“At last asahan’dri has come to my little corner,” she said with a chuckle. “I wondered if perhaps you’d leave before these old eyes would ever behold you. I don’t stray far from my work, you see.”

Her steps were agonizingly slow, but she motioned Arden closer, inviting her into her workspace.

“I didn’t know anyone lived this far out,” Arden said, apologetic. “Had I been aware—”

She waved it off. “You’ve more serious matters at hand than social calls. How does masareh fare now?”

Arden’s shoulders slumped, even though she tried not to show her sorrow. “Not well.”

She picked up a thick leather apron and dragged it over her head, turning her back. “Would you mind tying this? Nasere is supposed to be here to help me, but he’s run off on an errand for the Ta’Mareth.”

“Oh, of course.” Arden stepped up behind her and took up the apron strings.

“I know it’s of little comfort, but I’ve been trying to find something that might help you. My memory is not what it used to be, however, so my skills suffer for it.”

She finished tying the bow. “Your skills?”

Turning around, she nodded. “My name is Erlishai. I’m the last Ansere’th alchemist. There used to be others, but they’ve all wandered to other paths, either dead seeking rare materials or gone to cities hoping to find a place in the larger world.”

Again she looked over the tools and supplies. “Alchemy? I can’t say I know much about it. It’s a form of magic, isn’t it?”

“Mmm, that it is, asahan’dri. Would you like to see?”

Torn between curiosity and wanting to return to Darius, she shifted her weight. “Perhaps, but I can’t stay long.”

Erlishai nodded, beckoning her over to a workbench. “I understand your haste. It will only take a moment. Come. See.”

She stepped up behind her, looking over her shoulder as she opened a small metal box, removing bits of metal and a single gem.

“We aren’t versed in magic the general way most mages are,” she began, lifting a filagreed piece of gold. “Our studies are very specific, requiring intense focus and knowledge of materials, to know what best suits our needs.” She picked up another similar piece and held them together, closing her eyes. “Alchemists build things and infuse them with carefully gathered energy, aligning the physical elements with the purpose best suited to them.”

When she set down the items she held, they’d become one unit, a beautiful setting for a stone. “It requires deep familiarity with the materials themselves, which only few people have interest in learning. Did you know, asahan’dri, it doesn’t require a natural gift with magic?”

Arden shook her head, bewildered.

“While I do possess such a talent, some alchemists rely on objects that channel powers, though their task is more difficult in that they must know incantations and spellwork without sensing the energies, as a mage would.”

Looking closer, Arden studied the other items on the workbench. “What are you making now?”

“An amulet, but I’ve still much to do. The stone isn’t yet prepared.”

“How will you prepare it?”

Erlishai picked up the faceted blue jewel, showing her the flat back. “Markings must be made to seal magic within the object. Crystals such as this are more difficult than metals, as they can shatter if cut incorrectly.” She set it back down. “But that will take time, and I won’t keep you today.”

Stepping back, Arden bit her lip, thinking over what she’d said. “I don’t suppose you have anything that can defend against the darkness of vrata gesh? Perhaps something that could be crafted? Even to slow it?”

Her expression faltered, her kind smile falling into sadness. “I’ve been trying to remember, asahan’dri. In my younger days, I knew such powerful things, and I’m sure I could’ve helped him then, but…” She sighed and turned up empty palms. “I have nothing to give you, though I will try until my last.”

Arden swallowed back a fresh round of tears and nodded. “Thank you for that, Erlishai. And thank you for showing me your craft. Maybe if things were different for me…” Her voice broke, and she coughed to cover it. “I should get back.”

She bobbed her head, offering one last smile. “Strength to you,asahan’dri.”