Page 105 of Tale of the Heart Queen

“Oh, well, thank you for that ringing endorsement,” I snap. Our eyes meet momentarily before we both break into grins despite everything.

“I kind of missed you, Final Tribute,” he says. “But don’t let that go to your head. I’m under a lot of stress, and I’d miss a diseased ferret right now.”

I press a hand to my forehead and pretend to swoon. “You always know just the right thing to say to me, Gabriel.”

“Can you really help?” he asks, his expression turning serious now.

I nod. I think I can. I’m pretty sure. I was able to use my healing magic on Nadir without blowing anything up, and I think I can do it again. I hope. These people need me, and I have to try.

“I can help too,” Tristan says, coming up next to me. “A little.”

I look at him and then take his hand, squeezing it.

Gabriel turns to us both, his mouth opening and then closing.

“I literally don’t understand anything anymore,” he says, and then, with that cryptic statement, he turns on his heel and starts shouting orders. When he’s several feet away, he turns to look at me and my brother. “Well? Are you two coming? We need to set up a temporary infirmary.”

As Gabriel walks away, I turn to Nadir and take his hand. “What are you planning to do?” I ask.

“I’ll help search for survivors,” he says. “I can help shift some of the heavier rubble with my magic.”

Then he pulls me in and wraps his arms around me tight. I know what he’s thinking—we almost lost each other not that long ago, and everything around us is falling apart. We just need to hold on to each other a little bit tighter while the storm rages around us.

I kiss him, and then I turn around to follow Gabriel. He’s walking away, Tristan falling in line beside me.

Behind us walk the other healers, everyone’s posture straight with purpose. We all file into a room near the palace gates that’s clearly used for medical purposes. A few small white beds line up against the far wall, and an array of silver metal cabinets stand against another.

The healers start opening them and pulling out supplies: bandages, ointment, needles, and thread—everything we might need. Without the magic of Heart, Aphelion’s healers are dependent on these implements. The weight of this mission and its purpose flutters heavily in my stomach. I have to save the magic of Heart.

Someone thrusts a loaded box into my hands, and then, once everyone is armed, we start marching back out of the room and out through the palace. Gabriel says nothing, his shoulders hunched, his head low, and I can’t imagine the stress he’s under right now. I run up to walk next to him. “Hey, are you okay?” I ask.

He looks over at me and shrugs. “I don’t have time to think much about that. I just have to keep going. You know?”

“Yeah, I know that so well, Gabriel.”

He gives me a soft smile, and it’s weird seeing him look at me like that. Like he’s actually, maybe, a bit happy to have me around, even if I still annoy him.

We enter the city, marching through the streets surrounded by a contingent of soldiers. Up ahead, more healers and soldiers scurry about, setting up a big white tent in the middle of an open square. A line of people is already forming, everyone covered in cuts and bruises, some of them holding their arms, others limping on injured knees and ankles.

We don’t have any beds, so we use sheets and blankets to create makeshift pallets on the ground as we begin the task of healing the survivors.

Over the next few hours, I use the second half of my magic. That soft, velvety ribbon feels dense and solid as I mend limbs, seal up cuts, and, in one case, repair an entire chest of broken ribs. I don’t understand why I can control this side of my magic when the other is so difficult to contain.

It’s hard work, and my brow beads with sweat. As I’m healing, I catch a few curious glances directed at me and Tristan. He’s across the tent at another bedside, using his thinner vein of healing magic to smooth over cuts and bruises.

It’s been a long time since anyone has experienced the healing magic of Heart. Many of them must have seen the red lightning when I destroyed the throne room, and I worry they’ll reject us because of our grandmother, but they mostly seem grateful for our help.

I lose track of the hours until I notice the sun is starting to set. My stomach rumbles with hunger. They’ve been feeding us small bites of food, but I’ve been too busy to bother with much. I’ve been trying to keep myself hydrated, but that’s about the extent of it.

Nerissa sits by a pallet next to Tristan, tending to a cut on a survivor’s head, and he leans over and says something that makes her laugh. Tears burn my eyes at the sight, and I admonish myself. Now is not the time to lose myself in daydreams. So he made a girl laugh. Get a grip, Lor. They aren’t pledging undying love to one another yet.

She finishes with her current patient and then leans down to plant a kiss on Tristan’s cheek before she walks away to replenish her supplies. My brother’s attention remains glued on her as she disappears through the crowd. When he looks back, our gazes meet. I smirk, and he glares until his expression turns into a sheepish smile before he shakes his head.

Turning away, I survey the helpers, noting how none of the nobles have made their way down here, content to remain in the palace and do nothing.

But then I spy Halo and Marici entering, wearing simple pants and tunics with their sleeves rolled up and their hair tied back. Halo spots me first.

“Lor!” she cries and runs over. We throw our arms around one another and hug tightly. “I heard you were in the palace. What are you doing here? How did everything go with the Mirror? We saw your magic. Was that really you?”