Page 76 of Hearts Lost

ITHRONEL

TRUTH HAS SHARP EDGES

Iknot my hands together in my lap, trying to keep them from shaking. Even if the animals in this place weren’t screaming their fear into my brain, and even if Aloserin’s family hadn’t knotted a length of rope around my waist to keep me sitting in this chair for some obscure and probably horrible reason, I’d be terrified. I don’t know what’s supposed to happen in this huge, windowless room, but I’m guessing it’s not anything good.

I glance around the strange, high-ceilinged room again, trying not to look for too long at any one thing. The woman who I guessed is Aloserin’s mother is pacing near the door, her diamonds throwing off the light like an aura of needles. The man I assume is Aloserin’s father is standing in a corner, having a nervous, whispered conversation with another woman who’s examining the dials on some complicated-looking piece of machinery.

That woman makes my heart sink. Because I recognize her. She’s one of King Galan’s magicians, one of the women who’d stood inside the teleportation hub when I’d rolled Grathgore’s weapon into the circle.

Worse, she’d been in the room at the top of the stairs, sitting next to Lythienne, when I’d pledged to help King Galan’s magicians, and when I’d shared everything I knew about the malevolent little silver spheres Grathgore had given me. Had that been yesterday? Maybe it’s been longer; it’s hard to tell how long I was unconscious in Aloserin’s private family dungeon.

My teeth close around my lower lip, and I drag my eyes across the far wall of massive, uneven stone set with strange metal protrusions that jut out below a large silver bell. They’re probably for torture, those weird metal rods, although I’m actively avoiding thinking about how exactly that would work. I’m sure I’m about to find out.

I try to settle my gaze on my fingers twisting in my lap, but my eyes dart back to the magician adjusting dials beside the man who’s probably Aloserin’s father. Aloserin’s family is here, one of the king’s magicians is here, but where in the nine hells is the man who was trapped in the void with me? Fear pulses in the back of my head like an alarm bell clanging out a warning.

Did King Galan decide I’m not worth the trouble? Do his magicians think they’ve gotten all the valuable information out of me? Is this where King Galan sends someone who needs to be disposed of quietly, to the private dungeon of his former Acting Captain, the man who promised he wouldn’t let anyone hurt me?

I stare down at the rope knotted loosely around my midsection as my muscles pull tight and my eyes sting. Because they’re right, of course. I did tell them everything I know. I am no longer worth the security risk. King Galan’s face flashes through my memory, his dark eyes and serious expression. His voice when he said he’d tried to find my sister.

Stars, I should have known he was a liar as soon as he mentioned my sister. There’s no way anyone in the Lands Below could help someone trapped in Grathgore’s court. King’s promises, I think as the back of my mouth turns bitter. That’s all you need to buy an ale, king’s promises and plenty of silver.

Disappointment cuts through my chest like a knife. King Galan lied about finding my sister, of course. He lied about everything, just to get me to spill my guts before he spirited me out of the castle. I lift my eyes one more time, catching the back of the pacing figure who must be Aloserin’s mother.

King Galan probably lied about Aloserin as well. Perhaps he never suspected Aloserin of assisting me. Or, I think as my heart twists painfully inside my chest, perhaps he never intended to let Aloserin go.

My breath catches around the lump rising in the back of my throat. I’ve failed my sister, and as soon as the Kingdom of the Fall brings down the barrier, Grathgore will know I’ve failed. I imagine my little sister Amarille riding a horse through the gates of the Kingdom of the Summer, galloping over the Dragon Pass. With riders closing in behind her, Grathgore’s Royal Guard racing to recapture her. Because her freedom wasn’t complete, the price was left unpaid.

The room swims behind a hot veil of tears as another nightmare image rises in my mind, an alternate explanation for why I’m imprisoned in Aloserin’s family’s estate but have yet to see any sign of Aloserin. I picture Aloserin in a cell just like the one I’ve left behind, his beautiful face marred by swelling and bruises, his wrists and ankles in iron manacles. Aloserin spending the rest of his life rotting in a cell for a crime I committed, just because he was foolish enough to trust me.

Tears spill down my cheeks. The bell rings. Everyone jumps, and the thread of alarm running through the room pulls tight in my chest. Aloserin’s mother gasps, then turns to face the weird torture wall with its gleaming metallic protrusions. She smoothes down the front of her dress. There’s a sound like someone screaming from the hallway behind me; Aloserin’s mother turns to frown over her shoulder.

The door behind me slams open so hard it bounces off the stone wall. And Aloserin walks in, his dark hair loose across his forehead, his eyes wide and wild. His parents both stiffen as his gaze rakes across them, then settles on me with a look of such shock and outrage that my first, absurd reaction is to open my mouth to ask if he’s okay.

My second, equally absurd reaction is a surge of relief that spreads through my body like the heat of the void, despite the fact that I’ve just been imprisoned by his family and am probably about to be murdered in some deeply unpleasant way. Because Aloserin is alive, and he’s free. And, stars help me, there’s a word for the way my heart tugs at the inside of my chest like it wants to drag the rest of me into his arms. There’s a word for this feeling—

The bell chimes, and for a moment everyone in the room stands frozen, paralyzed by the piercing ring of the bright silver bell in the middle of the far wall.

“What,” Aloserin gasps, “the fuck?”

The pale man who’d led me from the palace bursts into the room behind Aloserin, panting, his face twisted into a pinched expression.

“There’s no time,” he declares.

The man I assume is Aloserin’s father shakes his head. His cheeks are flushed, and he looks almost disappointed.

“You— What—” Aloserin stammers.

Aloserin’s hand drops to the dagger on his hip as he speaks. His father clears his throat.

“The truth,” his father says, “has sharp edges.”

His father nods at the man who’d led me from the palace, and the man slams the door shut, locking us all in the room. It’s warmer in here now, I notice as I shift uncomfortably in the chair where Aloserin’s mother told me to sit quietly. She’d implied there would be more rope involved if I said no; I hadn’t said no.

The bell rings again. Its chime bounces off the stone surrounding us with a sense of finality, and everyone turns to stare at the wall before us. My eyes drift back to Aloserin. He looks terrible. His cheeks are hollow, the shadows under his eyes might as well be bruises, and he’s watching me like he’s trying to decide what’s worse; if this is a nightmare, or if I’m real.

My heart throbs inside my chest as our eyes meet. The air in the room seems to thicken and buzz, crackling like heat rising from a fire. Aloserin looks horrified to see me, and his words echo back to me, tearing through my mind like summer lightning. I won’t let them hurt you.

He didn’t know. The realization is as sharp as the point of a sword, almost painful as it cuts through my conciousness. Whatever his family intended when they brought me here, whatever their reasoning or motivations, Aloserin didn’t know. He’s as surprised to see me as I am to see him.

Watching Aloserin’s dark eyes, I open my mouth. I want to scream, to demand that someone explain what in the nine hells is going on, but in the panicked haze of sudden heat rippling off the far wall, I can only find one word. If it’s too much for you, Aloserin had said to me, back in the sweet, soft heat of the void. Back when we both belonged to another world, a world that was all our own.

“Fish,” I say, the word floating from my lips, weak and sad and so soft it’s almost inaudible.

Aloserin’s expression collapses. He looks like he’s being torn apart, and my heart screams from inside its cage. It even sounds like something is being ripped apart, a long, low, rippling noise like silk tearing in some faraway world.

Cold fear washes over me. Aloserin turns away from me to face the far wall, and his eyes widen. He lifts his dagger, but the blade trembles, catching the light of the lantern on the wall. And catching another light as well, a brighter and far more distant light.

I know what I’m going to see before I can force the muscles of my neck to turn. I know, because I’ve heard this sound before. I’ve felt this gust of strange, dry wind stirring the hair on the back of my neck. I’ve seen air dance and shimmer in the corner of my vision, shifting and twisting like a heat mirage above a sun-baked road.

I turn and find exactly what I was expecting.

Aloserin’s family has a portal between the worlds in their basement.