Escape to the Sea (Tangled Hearts #1)

Chapter 14 Into the Valley

Ephraim

The roaring and rumbling finally comes to a stop as Tommy saunters up, talking rapid Kastii as he brushes his hair out of his face. His white tunic is now soaked through with sweat and leaves barely anything to the imagination. I turn to take a step towards him, but my body gives out. The shift from being hunted like prey to being encapsulated in the void to fighting this great beast—it’s too much. I sit down on the ground, trying to catch my breath.

“What were you thinking? You could have been killed!” Atrea says in sharp staccato tones, marching towards him.

Tommy rolls his eyes, inspecting his weapon, triggering the last two traps that weren’t used. “I was safe. Mother’s help.”

“No, no, I don’t care that she gave you… whatever she gave you. You pull a stunt like that again, and beasts will be the least of your worries.”

His smile grows with every sharp crack in her tone, and he finally laughs, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “I like pulling stunts for you, Karadin .”

Her cheeks flush with a pretty plum as she turns away from him.

Tomlyn follows her gaze with an amused smirk. “I’m icy, right?” he says, pulling her close by the hips.

“You’re cool,” she says, sounding it out so he can mimic it.

“Right, Cool.” Tomlyn turns to me, giving me a playful wink. “Cool, yes?”

I cannot believe him.

Atrea doesn’t wait to hear me call him cool in return. Instead, she starts moving forward. “I need to get our bearings, if that’s even possible in the Sea. Can you two wait here while I get a better vantage point?”

“Sure. We’ll stay. I’ll tend to him,” he says, plopping down on the ground next to me. “Maybe good things to the east? You look?”

She rolls her eyes. “That’s south, Tomlyn. At least I think it is.”

I don’t watch her leave. Instead, I close my eyes as tiredness and exhaustion seep into my limbs. I was already nearing the edge of my stamina before we were taken into the void. Pure terror and wonder can only carry you for so long.

I can’t catch my breath. My chest is hot and tight for all the wrong reasons. I haven’t had a panic attack like this in a while, but thankfully I am more prepared for them than I was before. I set my quarterstaff next to me, and cross my legs under me, trying to slow and steady my breathing.

Deep, steady, calm—

“What is this movement?”

I try and breathe again, not rising to the bait.

“No, not movement. Activity? What is this activity?”

Focus, Ephraim, let the warmth from the sun soothe you.

“Are you sleeping? You want a pillow? I can get it. Hey, E, you didn’t say if I was cool--”

“I do not want a pillow!” I finally snap, opening one eye to look at the Karstian. “Yes, you looked cool. Now, leave me be, please.”

“Oh, sorry. I’m cutting in?”

“Yes. I’m trying to meditate. It stabilizes me.”

“Stab… stab… what?”

“I am trying to concentrate! I cannot do that and instruct you on rudimentary Elvish at the same time!”

“I’m blocking you?” he finally asks.

“Yes! You’re blocking me from meditating. So I can keep from losing my shit!”

His expression shifts from concern to one of wild amusement. He gives a hearty laugh, falling back onto his back.

Honestly. I don’t care how incredible and strong he looked as he flew into the crown of that great beast. Right now? He is absolutely intolerable .

“What? What is so funny?”

“You. You’re cute when cursing.”

I am now decidedly more un-calm. “I am not cute when I’m—”

“Curse again, please,” he croons.

“I will not!” I rise to my feet, glaring down at him. “Do you not understand? Here, let me give you some words. Panic. Tired, exhausted, scared!”

He leans up on his elbows, meeting my gaze. “Scared? Why? We killed it?”

“Yes, you killed whatever that was. Good show. But forgive me for not letting my guard down, considering everything in this godsforsaken place is trying to kill us. First, your little cadre of evil from the city threw a dagger at me. A dagger. Which, honestly, is fine, I can handle a simple blade, but I can’t handle constantly being in fear for my life for the past three days!”

It’s clear that somewhere along the way I lost him, He works to catch up, but my brain is already spinning, the panic stealing any restraint I have as it shifts into irritation. “And then, and then, if that’s not bad enough, I manage to bring us to this new plane. A new realm I’ve never experienced before. And we travel through a forest I’ve never been to before, where every tree seems to have a mind of its own and wants to either eat us or assault us! Oh, but that’s only before that monster tries to kill us! As soon as we stop running and try to fight, we’re swallowed up by never-ending darkness!

“We could have gone mad in there, and no one would ever know what happened to us! The Void is what that creepy Mother called it. Then, we come back out and you can do all these things. And you pull me back into the void and I can’t see and I can’t breathe and then you’re flying in the air and, and that was all today! I’m not even going to go and relitigate that my life has been threatened, over and over again for days now!”

By the time I’m done, I’m panting, and every trace of humor in Tomlyn’s face has worn away. “Oh.”

“Yes, yes, ‘Oh’.” I spit. “So, I don’t feel cute right now. I need to meditate. I need a minute, to breathe.”

“Okay,” Tomlyn says, and then gestures to his stomach. “Here. Lie down. Listen to my breath. Take the time.”

I don’t want to listen to him, not after he just made fun of me. But I know I need help, and he’s my only source right now. With a huff, I lie down against him. “Thank you.”

The sound of his breathing, slow and steady, does start to soothe me as I go through my exercises. He doesn’t seem to mind me there, humming a gentle tune as we sit. After several minutes, the clawing panic seems to leave me.

Carefully, Tomlyn shifts to look down at me, shifting my head from his stomach to his lap and starting to play with my hair. “You were cool too. With the knife,” he says, mimicking me pulling it out of the air. “How long did it take you?”

“Thank you. Longer than I’d like to admit.”

He nods and continues to gently massage my head.

I start again, his hands in my hair an odd comfort. The gesture is sweet and… surprisingly intimate. My cheeks heat again but I push it down, forcing myself to take a deep breath and focus.

Deep, steady, calm.

The mantra helps; the energy within my body slows down, normalizes. It’s a practice I started with Arlen. He told me that some of his mentors are fully rested after only a few hours; others barely need to sleep at all. I’ve seen some interesting notes in the ancient texts about the practices, but I don’t know how much of it I believe. Perhaps it’s another elf thing.

By the time I come out of the deepest parts of the exercise, I hear Atrea walking back with purpose into the clearing.

“All right, so I’ve—”

“No, no, shh.”

“What? Why? Are there other threats?”

“No, E needs calm. He not of mind for kill.”

“Not of…Not of mind for the hunt, you mean.”

“We wait until he ready. Come sit, Karadin .”

“I’m fine. I’m better.” I mutter and start to get up. My arm has scabbed over. I think it’ll be all right until we find some place to shelter for the night.

The suns are still relatively high in the sky. If time works the same way here, which is not certain, then it’s something like mid-afternoon.

“Well, I suppose you found your shit again. Good. We’re maybe three-quarters of a mile to the west of a big meadow. But further back there seems to be some sort of house. Seems like we should be able to make it there before nightfall.”

“Thank Periti. No more woods.”

Atrea nods, offering to help us both up. “For once, I agree. No more woods for now.”

We start on Atrea’s heading, with her leading and Tommy taking the rear, occasionally dipping in and out of the woods to make sure we don’t run into anything else trying to kill us. The climate shifts, like we’ve been walking for fifty miles instead of half of one. The old-growth hardwood trees give way to smaller, reedier ones, until we’re finally left with some shrubbery and high grass.

Then we crest the last hill, looking out into a sea of color.

There are so many hues rising to meet us that I can’t name them all. I kneel down near a mass of flowers of every size, shape and pattern. There are flower bushes and single stems, and clusters of flowers, with an occasional flowering tree dotting the rolling meadow. The scent is heady and strong, immediately making my head swim in a good way.

“Gods be good,” I say in awe. “There must be billions of them.”

“There is a path here. We should try sticking to it,” Atrea says. But her tone is half-hearted, and surprisingly buoyant. She moves faster, seemingly drawn to a specific patch of flowers. Tommy joins, content to follow at a leisurely pace.

I want to inspect each flower, but there’s not enough time in our lives, let alone in our day. But every once in a while, there is a vibrant outlier that ascends above the noise. I kneel down and gesture for Atrea to look at a bright orange bloom with nearly translucent, fan-shaped petals. Inside, the pollen glows bright blue and pulses with light. As we near, it starts to sing a high, warbling song.

All around us, flowers start to dance to the music, spinning in place. Other flowers nearby of the same species come to life and join in the song, each taking a different note in the melody.

“This is incredible,” she says, kneeling down next to me.

“It must be like crickets, or something similar,” I muse, pointing to a few of the translucent petals that appear to be rubbing together in the dance. “When crickets rub their legs together, they make a small chirping noise, as I’m sure you know. Perhaps these flowers are similar. A whole system designed to sing to each other.”

“You’re remarkably well-studied,” she replies. “I’ve never seen this kind before. I assumed it was magic.”

“Well, of course it’s magic, darling.”

She turns to look at me, blushing prettily, the plum looking so beautiful against her lavender skin, before she cuts her gaze back to the flowers.

“I’d like to pick one and take it home, but it probably won’t survive the return to our realm,” she says, staring at it for a moment more. “Pity.”

I reach into my bag, pulling my journal out. I try to sketch the flowers, but without oils or watercolors, I can’t capture their brilliance. This one is orange, or something close to it. Another is a vibrant shade of magenta, and another still is almost turquoise. Further away, they blend in, and there’s a point where I cannot differentiate their colors. “Remarkable.” I write down my observations and then shove it away. “I wonder if each note is covered by a different color. And I wonder if denizens here cultivate their collections to make certain melodies. Ah, if only I could ask.”

As I stand, Atrea is far too close to me, staring at me with that same elven stillness she’s had before. My breath catches, my heart starting to race. I force myself to look into her eyes, rather than her lips.

“What is it?” I ask.

“You’re not who I expected. That night at the party, I saw flashes of this, but I thought this was your attempt to flirt with someone new.”

I chuckle, tucking my journal away. “Admittedly I’m a pretty poor courtier. I didn’t even really look at anyone but you. I didn’t flirt with anyone else, that’s for sure. If I start getting too intellectual about flowers, I normally bore women to tears. So, I dance, and mirror their conversations back to them.”

“What a waste,” she replies, and then backs up to give me space to step back to the path. “You were right, by the way. About the roses.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The roses. I told you they were browning. The soil was shit. Too acidic, I think. Maybe I’ll try something else, like sunflowers.”

I glance to her surprised. I can’t believe she listened to me. “Sunflowers are hardy. They grow surprisingly well in that sort of soil. Honestly, I think most roses are too finicky for Yaventown’s climate. But the Linklaters have a number of green witches and hedge mages on standby. Sunflowers are a good choice, unless you have several hundred thousand florets to toss around.”

We walk back to the path and continue our journey, her mood much more introspective. This is the side of Lady Emeria that I remember. Her quiet disposition, the way she observed everything.

Perhaps that night wasn’t all lies. Relaxed and content for the first time in days, I walk with her as we listen to the flowers sing.

The next time we spot a singing flower, Tomlyn leans down, pocketknife out and nearing a light blue one. “Do you both want?”

Atrea shakes her head. “No, Karadin . We should observe for now.”

Tommy nods, tucking his pocketknife away again. “I’ll get you nice presents at home.”

I smile. “It’s a lovely idea, Karadin , but—”

“No.” he interrupts sharply. “Not for you. Only her. Apologies.”

“ Karadin means apologies?”

“No,” says Atrea. “He’s apologizing, as karadin is for us to say to each other.”

“Oh. A term of endearment?”

“Something like that. It has to do with our bond. That we fight for each other, protect each other,” she says gently.

Ah. Well, that is as fine a point as you can have. I drop out of step with her, letting Tomlyn move into the middle as I bring up the rear.

No matter how many times I give myself hope, I have to remember. They are a unit, they move together seamlessly, fight together, talk to each other in their mother tongues. I’m the interloper here.

Ephraim Echtarch, perpetual third wheel.