His Ancient Heart (30 page)

The infantry had caught up behind them, and they met at the crest of the mound, foot soldiers charging forward, cavalry trying to get away. The whole attack became tangled, even as the fireballs dissipated to nothing before reaching their targets.
 

"Hold," Eryn shouted, ordering her charging group to a halt. They fired one more salvo of arrows and pulled up their mounts, coming to a stop still a half mile away. Eryn's eyes grew brighter as she felt the magic flowing through her and into the pendant. "Incandeum!"

There was a
woomph
of air, and the entire hilltop vanished in a massive rise of flame. Soldiers began to scream, as the protection of the heavy armor that prevented the arrows from reaching their flesh suddenly became their undoing.

Eryn's eyes crackled with energy, at the same time her heart fell. So many dead. Were they like Fehri or Trock? Or were they cruel and cold like
him
?

The fire consumed the grass and poppies; dark smoke rose into the sky, and the smell of burned flesh became paramount. Eryn closed her eyes, the magic falling away, the pendant losing its glow. The flames vanished as quickly as they appeared. When she opened her eyes, she could see the destruction she had caused.
 

"Oz, make sure there are no survivors," she said softly. No one deserved to remain alive in such a condition.
 

"It is pleased to follow it," Oz said. It ran ahead of them, sword in hand.

Eryn gathered the sleeve of her shirt and used it to wipe the blood from her eyes. She looked back at Frieda and saw the girl was crying.

I certainly don't feel like a hero.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

Talon

"Where is the stone?" Wilem asked when Talon returned to the deck. His shirt was soaked in blood, his breathing labored.

"Broken," Talon said. "Shattered and useless." He looked over to where Curio had fallen, only to discover the body was gone.

"We threw all of the creatures over the side," Delia said. "Wilem helped me bring Curio up to his study."

"The blood isn't mine," Wilem said.

"Did you know your father was keeping a Cursed girl down there?" Talon asked. "Did you know what he did to her?"

She looked away from him, refusing to meet his accusatory gaze. She nodded. "I didn't approve of it, but what choice did I have? He was kind to her. Gentle." She paused, looking at the ground. She knew her father was a monster, didn't she? "Rosalei wasn't always in the cage. He put her in there after she became pregnant. She had an attack on the deck one day and killed one of the deck hands. It was for her protection, as well as ours. Where is she?"

"Dead. Both she and the child." He looked over at Wilem. "He had another shard of ebocite down there."

"What does that mean?" Delia asked.

"She was going to suffer a fate worse than death had she survived," Wilem said. "Her loss is a blessing from Amman. Did you know her well?"

"She was like a sister to me. A shadow. Before, she would follow me everywhere I went. She watched when I trained with Dal, and would come to me whenever she was lonely or sad, or missed her family. She said he was always gentle." She repeated it again, as if to convince herself that gentility made it acceptable. "After, I would go to visit her every day, bring her food and dolls. I sat with her when she cried. I tried to make her life better. If the soldiers had taken her, she would have been dead long ago. My father gave her another option. Does that count for nothing?"

"He bought her into slavery," Talon said. "He raped her. He used her to satisfy his sick curiosity. Was her life better for that, or simply longer? Not to mention, he was ready to let me kill you to keep me from finding out about her."

Delia was silent, embarrassed.
 

She had changed while he'd been gone, her other clothes likely soiled by their efforts to clean the deck. She was wearing a more modest dark blouse and long pants, black gloves, high boots and a short, hooded cloak. A leather belt wrapped around her waist, lined with small, six-sided metal stars. She had put a green cloth around her forehead, using it to hold her dark hair away from her face.

"My father is dead," she said at last. "I suppose he got the end you believe he deserved. Rosalei... I agree she didn't deserve what happened to her, not any of it, but my father didn't create the situation.
He
did. What are we going to do about it, General?"

"This barge is sinking," he said. "The forward hold is bringing on water. We can't move Curio's collection, and we can't risk that it will wind up in the wrong hands. The ebocite alone is dangerous, and who knows what else your father has stashed in those boxes. We need to salvage what food and supplies we can from the barges, and burn whatever is left. Seeing everything destroyed should keep the other ships away from the shore."

He waited for Delia to argue. She was still and silent.

"I had hoped the farspeak stone your father had in the hold would help me learn what
he
is planning next. Unfortunately, it was also destroyed, which means we must continue to Edgewater. Losing the barge is going to cost us time, and this attack will serve to alert
him
both to where we are, and how we may arrive." Talon drew in a heavy breath and sighed it out. "I'm afraid we may have won this battle, and in doing so given
him
the upper hand. Our stealth is our greatest asset." His eyes flicked from Wilem, who was watching Delia, over to the girl. "What are you going to do about it?"
 

"My father is dead. Rosalei is dead. Dal is dead. If you burn the barge, nearly everything I ever held dear will be gone. Fastra Transport will be mine, as soon as I return to Wolfton to claim it. If I return to Wolfton to claim it. I never wanted to be a merchant. I've spent too many years sailing up and down the Gorges, and in the end... No. It all trails back to
him
, doesn't it, General? Your darkness. My darkness. The plight of the Cursed. The death of this entire town." She looked back at the smoldering remains of Fulton, littered with human and Shifter corpses. "I'll follow you if you'll have me."

Talon wasn't surprised. She was hurting, angry. She wanted to lash out at someone for what had just happened to her. Why not the most obvious target? "I think you should take some time to consider-"

"No," she said, cutting him off. "General Spyne raped and killed my mother.
He
sent him and his Historians to do it. Father forbade me from seeking him, certain that it would only lead to my death, but I can fight, General. Dal taught me the ways of his people, ways that no soldier in this Empire has seen before. I want to travel with you." As if to prove her point, she lowered herself into a crouch, spinning and throwing her hand out in one smooth motion. A moment later, he heard the thunk of one of the stars striking the side of the railing, the edge buried deep into the wood.

The only reason Talon could think of not to accept her was Wilem. His eyes had stayed on Delia the entire time, and despite what he had said earlier his interest was painfully obvious. If Talon brought her along, he might gain a warrior, but cost Eryn her opportunity for love.

He loved her, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, but that was Silas Morningstar's excuse. Talon Rast was at war and couldn't be considerate of feelings. Not until
he
was dead.

"Very well," he said. "You know what you have in your hold. We need enough food and water for a week. Wilem, help her collect everything. Once you're finished, set the barge on fire and make sure it will burn away to nothing. If you need to use your magic, do it. We can't afford some poor soul happening over the ebocite."

"As you command, General," Delia said, bowing to him. "Thank you."

Wilem turned and smiled as he copied her bow. "What you are you going to do?" he asked.

Talon paused. He closed his eyes, his mind catching his thoughts and carrying him along. He saw Genesia there. He felt the pump of his heart and the heat of the furnaces. He saw his hands, nimble fingers working with the smallest of parts, assembling them with bolts and nails. He saw a workbench, tools, and a crude metal hand plated in ircidium.

His eyes opened.
 

"We need another way down the river. I'm going to start building a raft."

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Talon

Talon was shirtless and sweating when Delia and Wilem returned. They each had a burlap pack stuffed with food and water skins in their hand, and Wilem had a third on his back. They were talking to one another as they approached him, and when he looked, he could see the redness in the girl's eyes. She had waited to be out of his sight before crying again, perhaps afraid to look weak in front of him.

He had known they would be along soon when he had seen the flashes of light in the corner of his eye, and the bridge of the Delia had exploded in flame. Now the entire barge was burning. It was joined by the others, the trio sending enough new dark smoke into the night sky to blot out the stars, and enough heat into the air that it was hard to breathe.
 

"They'll burn to nothing," Wilem said. "I also pulled the sediment from the bottom of the river up and over the forward hold."
 

He looked exhausted from the effort. The blue crystal at the end of the ircidium staff made the fire easy. Moving the earth could not have been.

"How are you feeling?"

"I need to sleep." He stayed a few feet away from Talon, dropping the packs and then sitting in the sand next to them.

"You brought that wood here by yourself?" Delia asked, not quite believing it.

While they had been collecting the supplies, Talon had gathered the materials he needed. Rope, planks, and two oars from the other barges, along with burned but solid heavy beams from the remains of the Willow. He'd also gathered nails, some canvas, and a heavy mallet from the blacksmith. It sat in lines behind him, raw materials waiting to be turned into something useful.

The beams had been heavy, but he had managed. "I dragged them," he said, pointing at the deep ruts in the sand.

"Aren't you tired?"

"I can't afford to be tired. Word is going to reach
him
of what happened here, and
he's
going to be ready. We need to get to Kregin before that can happen."

Delia dropped her pack and sat right next to Wilem. Talon couldn't help but notice how she glanced over at the boy when she did. She was in awe of the Mediator.

"What's in Edgewater that's so important to you?" she asked.

"Nothing," Talon replied.

"Nothing?"

He picked up the end of one of the heavy beams and dragged it to the water. He waded in until it was floating on its own, and then let it go. It slipped away from him, moving a few feet downstream until it smacked into posts he had planted in the riverbed.

"There is a place called the Refinery," Talon said. "It is where the blood of the Mediators is brought to be cleansed of the disease they carry. The Curse. It is transported there by soldiers, special soldiers known only as the Carriers. They move between Edgewater and the Refinery, taking a secret route. Once they leave the city, they vanish from the eyes and minds of the people, until they return again. We mean to track the Carriers from Edgewater, and follow them to the Refinery. Once we control it, we can begin to save the Cursed, starting with Eryn. So, it isn't what's in Edgewater. It's what arrives to and from Edgewater that I'm concerned with."

"Eryn? The Wh-" Delia's voice trailed off as she thought better of using the nickname.

"Talon's granddaughter," Wilem said.
 

Talon raised his eyebrow at Wilem's omission of his relation to Eryn, though he said nothing. He dragged another of the large beams to the water and let it float.

"That's why you're fighting
him
? For your granddaughter?"

Murderer
.

Talon paused, still knee-deep in the river. "For thousands of granddaughters," he said softly, before returning to the shore to get another beam.

"Why are you fighting?" she asked, putting her hand on Wilem's arm. "You were a Mediator, weren't you?"

"I was until my mentor tried to kill me."

"Tried to kill you?"

"Yes. He didn't want me to take his place. He poisoned me. I met Eryn, and she helped me see the truth of it."

"She's important to you," Delia said, reading his face.

Wilem flushed. "Well... uh..."

She smiled. "Why are you shy about it? Caring for someone is nothing to be embarrassed abo- oh." Her face began to redden, and she was silent for a moment before speaking again. "I've had my share of suitors. Men up and down the Gorges have come to my father, asking for my hand. Begging for it. Offering to pay for it. My mother was very, very beautiful, and I inherited much of that beauty. It is a blessing in some ways. A curse in others. Dal was the only man I was ever able to befriend because he preferred to have Abeleth in his bed. All of the other sailors, they only spoke to me because they wanted this." She ran her hand down her body, and then put her finger to her head. "Not this." She put her finger to her mouth. "Not this." She squeezed Wilem's arm. "I see you looking at me. Your eyes see this, but they also see past it. I would like another friend. I need another friend, now that my family is lost. Even so, I won't be the reason for you to forsake your heart."

Talon was pulling the fourth beam into the water while Delia spoke. He dropped it with the others and turned back to see Wilem get to his feet and move away from them.

Delia stood, too. Talon thought it would be to follow Wilem, but instead she came to him.

"I don't understand that," she said, referring to Wilem's reaction.
 

"He's confused," Talon said.

"By me?"

"By himself. He loves Eryn, but he's attracted to you. He doesn't understand how that can be, and it worries him. He feels guilty for it. That would be well if he could justify his attraction with your own, but to be rejected... Boys his age want all of the world to bend to their terms."