Tale of the Heart Queen (Artefacts of Ouranos #4)

Chapter 38

C HAPTER 38

LOR

A low rumble rouses me from sleep as the room shakes. My eyes peel open, and the rumbling stops. Was I dreaming? I look at Nadir, who lies next to me, his face relaxed with slumber.

I sigh and roll back, staring up at the ceiling. After relaying everything I’d seen and learned, thanks to my mother, I didn’t miss the expressions on Tristan’s and Willow’s faces when they realized what had happened and how much they wished they could have seen her too.

They both looked like she’d died all over again, and I knew there was nothing I could say to make it hurt less. I can’t imagine what it would have been like to be in their shoes. I’m not sure I would have recovered. I wish so much I could have given them that moment.

Another rumble shakes the room, harder this time, vibrating through the bed, and now I’m sure I’m not dreaming. I reach over and shake Nadir’s arm.

“Nadir, wake up,” I say. It takes a moment for his eyes to slide open, and he stares at me with a small smile on his face.

“What’s up, Lightning Bug?” he asks before he takes note of my expression. “What’s wrong?”

Another rumble shakes the room, and he sits up.

“What do you think that is?” I ask.

Nadir runs his hand down his face. “I don’t know, but I’m guessing we’re in for another problem.”

I slide out of bed and pad over to the window to stare out across the city of Aphelion. The early morning sun is rising, casting the world in golden light. Our room offers a view of the gilded buildings and streets and the ocean beyond.

Another rumble shakes the room, stronger than any before, enough to knock me nearly off-balance. I clutch at the brocade curtains to steady myself, and a moment later, I feel Nadir standing behind me.

“We should go find Gabriel,” I say.

Just as I’m about to turn away from the window, something catches my eye. Another strong rumble shakes the entire room, and now, in the distance, I see it. The city is collapsing before our eyes.

I watch in horror as the edges along the shoreline start to crumble, the buildings falling against each other as they shatter. The glass muffles the roar that vibrates through the floor .

“Nadir,” I whisper. “Is this Zerra?”

He stares out the window, witnessing the destruction, our foundations shaking so hard we cling to the glass before us. The room tips as the chandelier overhead tinkles with crystals knocking together. I jump when a pitcher falls off the nightstand and smashes against the floor, along with a tray full of glasses sitting on the table.

Nadir looks around us. “We should run for cover,” he says.

“Where do we go?” I ask.

Nadir grabs my hand. “Under the bed.”

We huddle underneath, and Nadir wraps his arms around my waist, pressing me against his strong chest as we wait for the rumbling to subside.

After what feels like forever, it finally stops. My ears ring with the weight of the silence.

What caused this? My first thought was Zerra, but does she have this kind of power? My mother said that interacting with the surface drains her for a while, so has she recovered from her earlier attack?

But this feels bigger than only her, and I’m sure this is another manifestation of the world crumbling beneath us. It is Zerra, not because she’s causing it but because she continues to grow weaker and weaker. Whatever it is, we’re running out of time on every side.

We ease out from under the bed and walk back to the window. I cover my mouth and gasp at the sight in the distance. A large chunk of the city has fallen prey to the earthquake, and dozens of buildings have toppled and been crushed beneath the weight of stone .

I shudder to think how many bodies are buried and how many lives were just lost.

“Let’s get dressed,” Nadir says. “We have to look for survivors.”

Just as we are about to turn away, a loud crack draws our attention back to the window because this isn’t over yet. The land splits apart like it’s been shattered through its heart, a large crevice spreading wide. In a sluggish puff of smoke and shadows, dozens of buildings disappear with a roar.

I step back, my hand pressed to my chest, unable to believe what I’m watching. It takes only a few seconds, but it feels like hours before the dust settles again.

“No,” I say, my voice a whisper. The chances of anyone surviving that are nothing.

“Let’s go,” Nadir says, crossing the room and finding a shirt and pants before tugging them on. I blink away the threat of tears and follow him, donning a pair of leggings and a tunic.

We fling open the door to find the palace has become a sight of chaos. The panicking servants must have friends and family living below. They’re running back and forth, shouting orders and crying, many apparently at a loss for what to do.

We push past, knowing there isn’t much we can do for them now, and emerge outside in the courtyard, where we find Gabriel, Mael, and Hylene already doling out orders.

“Look for survivors!” Mael shouts to a line of soldiers.

A row of palace healers wearing long robes with crosses on their chests stand at the ready.

“I can help,” I say, holding up my hand. “With the injured. ”

Gabriel turns to scan me from head to toe as if doubting my claim.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I say. “I can help heal the survivors.”

He rolls his eyes. “Well, I guess you can’t inflict any more damage.”

“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?”

She’s talking a mile a minute as Marici comes up beside her, and I hug her next .

“I’m back,” I say. “And I took a little detour after I spoke with the Mirror.” That’s a mild understatement.

“Spoke with the Mirror?” Halo asks. “What does that mean?”

I blow out a breath. “I said I couldn’t tell you everything before, but it’s probably safe enough now.” I scan our cluttered surroundings. “But maybe not here? We’ll be leaving again soon, but I’d like the chance to talk.”

“Of course,” Marici says. “In the meantime, we came to see what help we could offer.”

I look at them as tears burn the backs of my eyes.

They were my first two friends outside of Willow and Tristan. I reach out to grip their hands as a wave of melancholy washes over me. Why does it feel like this might be the first of many goodbyes?

“Did I ever thank you for being so nice to me during the Trials?”

They both exchange an uncertain look.

“We weren’t, though,” Halo says. “We were awful to you.”

“You came around,” I say.

“We don’t deserve your thank-you. We should have been nicer to you from the beginning and never listened to that horrid . . .” she trails off, biting her tongue.

Like it or not, Apricia is still set to become her queen. Or is she?

“What happens to you now?” I ask. “With Tyr back?”

“I’m not sure,” Halo says. “We’re all kind of in limbo. I doubt he wants . . .”

“Yeah,” I say. Tyr doesn’t really seem to be in a mindset to bond to Apricia or run a kingdom .

“Anyway,” Marici says. “What can we do?”

I set them to work and then return to my patient’s bedside.

A while later, a heavy hand lands on my shoulder, and I look up to see Gabriel standing over me. His skin is pale, and the circles under his eyes are dark with worry.

“How is it out there?” I ask.

He shakes his head, disbelief written into every line of his face.

“Is this the thing you told us about? The magic?”

“Yeah,” I reply. “I think so.”

He sighs, rubs a hand along the back of his neck, and rolls his shoulders. “So there’s no controlling this.”

“Not yet,” I say. “But I’m trying to figure this out.”

“By replacing Zerra?”

“No,” I say. “I am not doing that. I’ll find another way.”

He gives me a skeptical look, and guilt twists in my chest. I should want to do this for the good of Ouranos, shouldn’t I? Am I being selfish? If it can only be another ruler or Primary, then why is my fight to remain free any more important than theirs?

Part of me doesn’t care. Ouranos has never done anything for me or my family. Everyone sat by and let Rion torment us for over a decade, and then when I was finally released, I was thrust into a contest that nearly killed me. Everyone in Ouranos is trying to use me for their own ends. But that also isn’t fair to the innocent people who’ve had nothing to do with any of this. It also isn’t fair to the people of Heart—the only ones I truly need to be loyal to—if they lose everything.

“I’ll find another way,” I repeat, hoping that’s true .

“Sir,” a soldier says, coming up to Gabriel. “The tally is currently sitting at five hundred twenty-six dead and one thousand forty-two injured.”

Those numbers make my blood run cold. So many people. Even one is too much. And that doesn’t even account for those we lost in the chasm forever.

“Thank you,” Gabriel says, his voice twisted with emotion.

The soldier bows and then walks away before Gabriel looks down at me. His eyes go to the man I’m trying to heal—a large gash sliced across his forehead. “Thank you for helping, Lor. After everything we did to you, you didn’t owe Aphelion any more of yourself.”

Then he spins on his heel and walks away, leaving me staring after him in shock.

Now I know the world must be ending because did he just say something nice?