Heartmender Page 25

  “Come, there is much you need to learn in such little time.”

  Reaching out, I grasped his rough hand and followed him to the base of the waterfall. I gasped when my sword materialized in the warm soil surrounding the pool of the falls.

  Releasing my hand, the heartmender grasped the hilt and traced lines into the dirt floor with the tip of the blade. Careful not to disturb him, I tiptoed closer and saw a large circle with a thin X running through it like the mark of the Rexus. The only difference I saw was that one of the lines of the X was thicker than the other. He looked up at me and smiled before thrusting the sword into the ground. Not sure how to respond, I stared back at him.

  "Come." He held out his hand once more.

  I swallowed hard, hoping this wasn't a trap. As I stepped into the circle, the fluid from the waterfall traveled toward us, filling the deep grooves in the dirt. I stared down in awe as the water transformed from clear crystal to cerulean blue to a dark green, then a pale yellow, and finally a deep red.

  Eman placed his hand on my shoulder, handing me the worn book he had been holding. Its binding was old and frail, as if the book had been used many times. I ran my fingers along the strange script burned into the front cover.

  Scienta non sit nis en fide ver sit

  "What does that mean?" I asked, not recognizing the language.

  "'Knowledge is not but true belief'," Eman replied.

  I stared down at the phrase. Knowledge. The thing that had drawn us here: the constant desire to know everything. My mind flashed with images of Ophidian and the promise of Aeternam Scientia, as well as the cost. I shuddered at the thought. Yet the phrase before me felt different, like it wasn't pointing to Eternal Knowledge, but something else entirely.

  "You can open it now,” Eman said gently, motioning toward the book.

  Biting my lip, I placed the book flat against my palms. I shifted its weight to one of my hands as the other peeled open the cover. Of its own volition, the brown cover jerked from my touch, landing on the cross section of the X. The pages flipped furiously, as if a strong wind blew them. I shrank back, but Eman held me firm. When he snapped his fingers, the pages stopped.

  A chill rushed down my spine as I remembered how Ophidian had used the same command for his black smoke.

  Eman directed my attention to the pages. Written in a beautiful calligraphy, the book seemed to begin in the middle of a story rather than the beginning.

  In the darkest of times, a Warrior will rise among them. Braided with the Sword and the Mallet, the Staff will complete the trio of almes, rendering light over dark.

  I quirked a brow at the text, turning my gaze toward Eman. “Almes?”

  Eman stared down at the pages as well. “An alme is a magical weapon, one that only those baring my mark can wield.”

  “Are there only three?”

  Eman smiled. “There are only three that are powerful enough to defeat the darkness of Ophidian. But they must be used together.” Leaning out of the circle, the heartmender pulled the sword from the ground. “This is one of the three almes. It was made by a very dear friend of mine, one who is not so different from you. Though it is not your own, it will assist you until your alme reveals itself to you.”

  My lips parted, but no words came out. What had the book said? I read the writing again. A sword, a mallet, and a staff? I looked up at the sword that had come to me in Ophidian’s Realm. If the sword was the young blacksmith’s, the only question now was: who was the young blacksmith?

  A small gust of wind retreated from the book’s pages again until the pages lay flat once more. A dark line scrawled across the page. However, instead of writing words, this one drew images. I leaned forward, recognizing the curved outline of one of the shapes.

  "That's Barracks," I said quietly.

  Surrounded by a sea of trees of Wintertide, then barricaded by the tall Shalley Mountains, my home appeared before my eyes. Wintertide looked far thicker than I remembered, and the Shalley Mountains seemed to cast a shadow over our frigid land, warning others not to come near. I swallowed hard, realizing just how isolated we really were from the other Lands.

  I parted my lips, another question forming, when the dark line continued across the pages. Straight and curved lines drew themselves, some intersecting with one another, some only connecting with themselves.

  "Are these . . ." I murmured once the final line had finished.

  Eman beckoned to the book, and it lifted from the ground, levitating a few inches from my face.

  "The Twelve Lands were not always as you know them to be now, ravaged by bloodlust and greed," he said in a serious tone. "They used to trade with one another in harmony."

  I was about to object, saying that we still traded with the other Lands, but the map caused me to pause. Everything I had learned about the other Lands was from Headmaster Clive, who had also told me that Ophidian wasn't real. I pursed my lips, realizing his knowledge about the other Lands was probably false as well.

  Eman held up his hand. "Trading hearts was not customary many millennia ago."

  "What happened?"

  As the question left my lips, darkness filled one of the Twelve Lands on the page, breaking it away from the rest. Eman traced his finger along the dark lands, as if stroking a child.

  "Darkness from another realm came, carrying the myth that a heart was only as valuable as its owner deemed it."

  I looked to the dark island once known as Regno, floating alone within Patet, the ocean that surrounded the Twelve Lands.

  "In Barracks, the myth evolved into what you know as Heart Reign. But in other Lands, the myth evolved into war and plagues."

  I shuddered. "But isn't it true?"

  "Yes, you are correct."

  "About which part?"

  "All of it." He gave me a solemn look. "The Traders, as you call them, have the power to choose the value of their hearts. That is also the power of the myth: convincing a person that their heart is not valuable. If a heart is invaluable, it's a burden to its owner. And no one wants a burden."

  I tried to break eye contact with him, hoping to hide the shame I felt for believing I was a burden to everyone around me. His brown eyes turned hard before softening once more.

  "You've never been a burden, Addie. To anyone. And you have never been alone."

  I swallowed the hard lump rising in my throat, finally accepting that it was Eman all along who had been speaking to me in Ophidian's Realm. He was the one who had encouraged me to run when I wanted to quit. He was the one who had told me I wasn't alone. Now I finally knew he was right. Eman had been trying to help me survive the Seven Choices the entire time.

  Unsure of whether I was allowed to hug the powerful heartmender or not, I reached forward and wrapped my arms around his waist anyway. Eman’s strong arms returned the favor.

  "You are stronger than you believe," he said, releasing me. "That is why your journey is just beginning."

  Chapter 41

  "What?" I asked, wiping away the small trickle of tears that rolled down my cheeks.

  Grasping the levitating book in his hand, Eman pushed it toward me. My eyes landed on the shadowed island. The darkness had begun spreading in splotches toward the other Lands.

  I moved my gaze to Barracks to see that, while the other Lands had patches of darkness within them, Barracks was covered in a gray hue, stretching from one end to the other.

  "There used to be a time when all hearts were mended." Eman looked above my head, lost in thought. "The Lands of Decim were lush, and the people loved. Everything was perfect."

  He sighed. "I knew something was wrong when small battles broke out in Regno. I gathered the other Elders to try to convince them to send additional Magisters there, but they refused, saying I wasn't wise enough to know such things." Eman ran his fingers along the dark island again. "Look where their knowledge got them."

  I breathed quietly, trying to not interrupt.

  "Ophidian struck swiftly and efficiently,
creating monsters that were intelligent as well as deadly."

  "The malum." I had thought the malum were a new creation of Ophidian’s, something he had recently discovered. But, once again, I had been fooled by the Beast; he had been using them for centuries.

  Eman nodded, his lips stretching into a tight line. "The malum have all knowledge of your realm, this realm, and Ophidian's Realm. They are a deadly force that won't hesitate to destroy anything. I fear for what will happen if Ophidian begins creating his other creatures." Shaking his head, he closed the book. The water near our feet trickled back to the waterfall, erasing the symbol he had drawn. "Only the bonding of the Twelve Magisters and the leadership of the Rexus can destroy Ophidian's darkness. There is a Magister for each Land of Decim who has sworn to protect their land from darkness. They have known this day would come and have begun preparing for battle. Without them, darkness will overtake all the realms, starting with Decim."

  My mind spun with all the new information, and I took a step back. Magisters? Rexus? Battle? My new heart started beating harder.

  "But where do I fit into all of this? I'm just a girl from Barracks. I didn't ask for a pure heart."

  Eman extended the book toward me with a serious face, and I knew to take it. "You weren't given your pure heart. You created it. Did you ever wonder why only you noticed Schism’s deception? Or the cold that covered Barracks when he arrived?"

  Before I could ask what he meant, a flash of memories spiraled through my mind: my younger self, trying to stop Lyle from trading his heart to Schism; meeting Silas by my favorite birch tree along Wintertide; reading to Nana on a cold night by the fire; laughing as Silas and I played chess; finding Lyle's sweater in my house. And each and every one of the Choices I had overcome. I blinked, trying to understand what it all meant.

  "When you could have run from the pain, you embraced it and changed it into something better. Everyone has a choice. Where many chose to hate, you chose to love. Where many chose to run from their fears, you chose to overcome them."

  I clutched the book to my chest, feeling the strong, steady palpitations of my new heart. "That's why I could still feel without my heart?"

  Eman nodded. "The power you wield is stronger than any I have seen in centuries. Even with help, hardly any have survived through half of Ophidian's Choices.

  "Because you were willing to sacrifice your heart, you were given the same gift: a chance at another choice." Taking a step forward, he presented the sword to me. "Here is the next choice. Once you take this sword, you make an iuram, a binding oath only broken by death, to bring the Twelve Magisters together. You and only you can complete this task."

  Feeling the weight of the realms on my shoulders, I looked down. The blade of the sword glowed a faint orange, a color I hadn't seen on it before. I didn't have to grasp the hilt to feel its power. It was as if my heart was reaching out to it, and the sword reached back with a familiarity I wanted to explore.

  I didn’t waver on this choice. I didn’t know what would happen, but I knew what my heart felt. Accepting it, I grabbed the hilt. A white light folded itself around my hand and the hilt of the sword, and, as I handed the book back to Eman, I knew I had destined myself to another journey.

  The thought of the young blacksmith rose in my thoughts. I had made a promise to try to help him, too. Once this was all over, I would.

  The white light disappeared as the orange glow escaped the sword and traveled up my fingertips, causing me to feel stronger than ever before.

  Eman watched me closely before walking to the door, holding the book at his side. "Come, there is much to do for your departure."

  A large pond, shimmering and shining in the golden sunlight, rippled before us. Bright purple water lilies danced on its surface as its waves gently rocked them back and forth. Tall weeping willows and long, smooth grass surrounded the perimeter, making the scenery the definition of peaceful.

  Beyond the pond, ancient stone steps covered in delicate moss and hanging ferns ascended until they reached a landing that split into three rising directions: one left, one right, and one up the center. At the top of the stairs, on the landing, stood four figures. Worry gripped my heart, as I couldn’t ignore those who waited.

  Without hesitation, Eman continued toward the pond. When I faltered, he turned around with his soft smile and motioned for me to follow. But I paused instead.

  “Eman,” I started, then stopped, looking down at the mystical sword as I tried to find the right words to say. “I don’t know where I’m going or what I’m doing.”

  The heartmender took the satchel he was carrying and handed it to me with a gleam in his eyes. “You will encounter much on your journey, but you are well prepared.”

  Raising my brows, I took the satchel and opened it to find various jars filled with herbs and salves. Tucked beside them was the tattered book he had shown me. I pursed my lips.

  “This is all I need?”

  Eman grinned, reaching forward to secure the flap over the satchel. “Yes.”

  “That’s it?”

  He nudged the bag toward me once more with an amused smirk. “That’s it.”

  Reluctantly, I took the satchel and put the strap over my head so that it ran across my chest as Eman turned back to the pond.

  Round, gray stones rose up from its waters, creating a path for us to walk on. While the heartmender glided smoothly across the stones, I struggled to keep my balance on the slick surfaces, praying I wouldn't fall.

  As I hopped off the final stone, Eman extended his hand, catching me before I tripped. He offered me his kind smile.

  "Thank you," I said, standing straight. "For everything."

  He didn't respond, only studied me before continuing on.

  We ascended the steps until we reached the landing. Four sets of eyes watched me, and I turned toward them, gripping the strap of the satchel hard. Sana was first, wearing a small smile and carrying a bundle of clothes. I instantly recognized Lyle's sweater and yearned to feel its security once more.

  "I thought you would need these when you traveled back to your realm," she said softly. Walking to me, her feet fluttered across the stone, creating the pitter-patter I had gotten used to. Her bright green eyes filled with tears as she passed me the sweater and black pants. Latching her petite arms around my neck, she whispered, "I believe in you, Bellata."

  I clasped one arm around her small waist, then released her. She sniffled once before standing next to Eman, who wrapped one arm around her shoulders.

  “Are you coming with me?” I asked the heartmender.

  A solemn look passed over his face as he shook his head. “I can’t leave Ramni when Ophidian’s forces are running rampant throughout the realms.”

  “Throughout the realms?” I repeated, knowing Ophidian would try to find the halves of my heart, which now belonged to Lyle and Claire. My new heart quivered in my chest at the thought of the Beast scouring Barracks to find them. What if he found Nana and Silas, too?

  “Addie, do you believe you can do this?” Eman asked, interrupting my thoughts.

  “What?”

  He wrapped his large, calloused hands around my small ones, which gripped the sword. “Do you truly believe you can do this? Unite the Twelve Magisters against Ophidian?”

  My eyes met his with uncertainty before I understood what he was saying. The script in the book stood clearly in my mind: Knowledge is but true belief. If I believed I could do this, then I knew I wouldn't fail. But that was the problem. I wasn't sure if I believed in myself.

  Before I could either shake my head or nod, I felt the palpitations of my new heart grow stronger. Each pump felt like my heart was filling my veins with something new, something powerful. I looked down to see my hands begin to glow around the hilt of the sword, shining the same orange as the sword had.

  "Trust your heart, Addie. It already knows your power. You only need to believe in it."

  Eman released me from his grasp with a firm nod before lea
ding me to Claire.

  Though her gown was elegant and her hair done beautifully, the scowl on Claire’s face assured me she wasn't happy. She crossed her arms, furrowing her brows as she walked toward me.

  "So," I said. "I guess you're not coming with me."

  She snorted. "Not by my choice."

  I looked over my shoulder at Eman.

  "Though you saved her with your heart, we still don't know who possesses Claire's original heart. Without it securely within her, Ophidian can easily take her once more if she leaves Ramni."

  I nodded. "Protect those who are here?"

  He gave a small smile and tightened his arm around Sana's shoulders.

  Looking back at Claire, I sighed. "Who's going to patch me up when you're not there?"

  Claire tried to scoff, but a smirk interrupted her expression as a tear gathered at the corner of her eye. "If you die, I'll never forgive you."

  I laughed.

  "Plus," she continued, "I asked the Mender to make you some of your favorite green salve. It's in the orange container."

  I rifled through the satchel until I found the bright orange bottle. I squeezed it tightly before placing it carefully back inside. "Thank you."

  Claire uncrossed her arms and pulled me into a hug.

  "Please don't be stupid, Addie," she whispered before releasing me.

  I gave her a nod, trying to hold back the tears welling in my own eyes. Claire took a step back, leading my gaze to the next figure in line.

  Cleaned and fed, Lyle almost looked like his old self again. But as he met my eyes, I could still see the darkness lurking inside him. Ophidian still had his heart.

  "Not coming?" I asked with a playful smile and a tug on the satchel.

  Lyle shook his head, his brown curls bouncing. Then, in one fluid motion, he rushed to me, scooping me up. His arms were weak but warm. I held him close, hugging him as tightly as I could.

  After a few moments, we released each other, and Lyle straightened his spectacles before gathering my hands in his own. He squeezed them, allowing his gaze to shift to mine, as if he was trying to decide what to say. I gave him a weak smile and began to pull free from his grasp. I didn't want this to be more difficult than it had to be. He quickly clamped down harder on my hands.