Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Hiding away in Norenth was over. From her conversation with Kayce, that was truly what this past week had been.
What her life since she was a child had been.
He was right—there wouldn’t always be someone to help her, or someone else to rally for.
She had to choose herself. Listen to her own instincts, if she could ever find them.
She just didn’t think backpacking in a storied wilderness like some hobbit was the way to do it. Not when they had a murder to solve, a piece to an ancient book to track down—
“Look, I said I would work on it,” Lia said to Fee in their clearing later on, as the guardian handed her a bag that looked suspiciously similar to the one stashed with her ranger gear. “That didn’t mean I was about to sign up for ‘Girl Scouts of Mordor’.”
“You’re stepping on some serious copyright issues,” Fee chided. “The Vilentian Sphere is full of orcs, trolls, and goblins, but it doesn’t give you the right to snub one of the greatest Flamehearts we knew. It doesn’t even come close to his sphere.”
Lia’s mouth popped open. “Are you actually insinuating—”
Kayce cleared his throat, eyeing her sneakers. “Are you certain you want to wear that?”
Lia glared at the interruption. “I have all the comfort of Earth athleisure and Norenthian practicality. I’m not changing.”
The brown cloak would give her the warmth and camouflage she would need in whatever climate Vilentia offered. But a cotton shirt gave her the freedom of movement she found lacking in Norenthian fashion. Not to mention, the leggings had pockets. Lia’s hand went to the one holding her pen.
Fee tracked the movement. “While you’re there, you can only use the pen to form tools found in a feudal-fantasy setting. You know the rules by now.”
She did. Lia had been told after the Forge that her pen should only transform into items found in that sphere.
Not that she would ever wave a gun around in Norenth.
Not only would it unsettle the locals, but she had no idea how to use it.
From what she gathered, Earth was fair game.
Any tool could be used there to Transcribe a creation back to where it belonged.
“Your mother knows to expect you to be gone for a few days?” Kayce prompted.
Lia winced. It wasn’t hard to recall the vein pulsing in her mom’s temple when Lia said the guardian had insisted on this trip—vital for her training, Fee assured.
The nightshriek’s attack alone proved that time was of the essence for Lia to learn control.
Afterward, her mom’s face was stoic, words minimal as her daughter prepared to leave.
Lia had hated it, but she hated what she’d done to herself more. “She knows. Though it’s no wonder writers hardly set fantasies in the modern world. They seriously hinder a person’s education.”
Lia had needed to promise to make up her studies and do household chores for a week straight.
Thankfully, Marcus only asked for an orc horn.
If she could do anything good with her strange barrier-hopping abilities, she would leap at the chance for a souvenir.
Anything to soothe the disappointment on his face every time she left.
“Lia,” Fee said, her cosmic wings unfurling. “I’ll return for you in two days.”
Two days to focus on herself. To find the Flameheart—the writer and the warrior—on the inside. Their hunt for answers could spare two days, even though Lia’s stomach rioted at the thought. But she knew her papa would want her to do this. He always had.
“What about Papa’s trunks? His research on the Initiis?” It tore at her to leave them behind, feeling as though they were on the cusp of solving this. She flipped again. Maybe taking time to figure herself out wasn’t a good idea right now.
Especially with the tear. She hadn’t told either of them about it.
But it was only an owl, one she didn’t know for certain was connected to Malum.
She had to do this first. When she came back, she would be able to confront whatever was going on with her kingdom.
She couldn’t saddle another hunt on her friends while she was gone.
“Fee and I will handle it,” Kayce responded. “I know what to look for. Besides, it’ll be like taking a trip down memory lane.”
“Can we trade trips?” Lia tried, earning her a weathered glare from both of them.
She held up her hands in mock surrender.
She was ready as she’d ever be. Because as tired as she was of holding onto everything she’d thought others wanted, a new emotion sparked deep inside: longing, a flame of anticipation.
All to see what she was truly capable of.
Yes. She needed this. Again, what would two days hurt?
That spark simmered in the gray depths of her eyes when she grinned at Kayce. She knew, for his own lit up when their gazes met. “If I come back with poison ivy or reeking of troll, I’m forcing you to launder my clothes.”
“I’ll pick up your tavern tab for a month,” he countered.
“Deal.”
Their scarred hands shook and held.
“Trust in yourself.” There was an intensity in Kayce’s eyes, a wistfulness she couldn’t understand. “You can do this.”
Lia supposed he hated to be left behind, to miss out on the adventure—no, it was more than that.
Had she learned nothing from their conversation?
She was certainly conscious of each time their eyes had met, their hands had brushed.
He stood nearer, answered more readily. It tied Lia’s tongue.
So why did he look at her like he was…missing something?
It seemed to linger as Kayce traced her features with his gaze. The study made her body tense. Letting go of his hand, Lia stepped back for Fee’s.
“Don’t worry,” Fee said with a wink. “Julian told me not long ago that Vilentia is lovely this time of year.” The guardian’s wings were a soundless pulse, and they were gone.
Her papa had lied. Vilentia sucked.
Thanks to the healing tonic she had taken, the limp was nearly gone apart from a slight twinge and an angry lattice of scars.
Lia’s legs were by no means little, but she couldn’t understand how four halflings had crossed miles of hills, forests, and mountains without much complaint.
Then again, this place was swampier. She had been in Vilentia’s dense woods for several hours, and she cursed just about every upended root and stone.
She knew she was supposed to use this time to “find her inner Flameheart”, but Lia wasn’t happy.
Couldn’t Fee have taken her to a tranquil meadow?
Or a hot spring? Lia guessed neither of those were character-building enough.
And this was the crash course. She needed to find herself again—she only wished hiking with her body bent out of shape from the nightshriek’s attack hadn’t been on the agenda.
Night quickly rolled in as twin suns set and double moons rose.
Lia wasn’t deterred in looking for shelter, the pale orbs illuminating the way.
Crickets chirped a summer symphony despite the cool breeze.
Vines dipped over tree boughs, the stringy moss reminding Lia of a muggy climate similar to the American South.
Every so often, the canopy broke to reveal hills blocking out the starry sky.
The trees eventually thinned, opening to a small, water-logged field.
She regretted bringing her sneakers, already soaked—not that she would ever admit it to Kayce.
However, her leather boots wouldn’t fare much better in this swamp.
Lia wasn’t dim enough to walk out into the open field. She was about to circle around it instead when a light flickered across the tall grasses.
The crickets quieted.
The light splintered into three. Then five.
“Crap,” Lia breathed at the sight of torches approaching.
She would fend for herself, but that also meant knowing when to pick her battles.
As sore and weary as she was, she didn’t think twice before retreating.
She banked to the right, away from the hills, and didn’t stop until the crickets resumed their song.
Only then did she climb into a tree with enough moss to conceal herself.
She fished a belt from her bag and secured herself to a sturdy branch for the night, pen in hand.
Sleeping in a tree had seemed like a smart idea. It kept Lia from whatever horde hunted these woods. Plus, she had read about it in a book once. But the crick in her spine followed her as she continued to search for better shelter.
Lia had another thirty-six hours in this world, give or take. She didn’t want to spend another hour of it tied to a tree.
It was an effort to pick up the pace, despite the sunlight illuminating the dark green world. Gnats flew in her face, humidity frizzing her curls no matter how tight she pulled them back. By the time the dual suns peaked, Lia had ditched her cloak.
At least it wasn’t Malletor. That was a heat so intense, it burned cold.
Praise the skies and seas, it wasn’t much longer before Lia found an outcropping formed from a fallen tree, the burrow beneath deep enough for her to duck inside.
Gnarled roots wove a ceiling, the ground drier than anything else she had seen.
The shade was a cool relief, along with a quick search that proved no other living thing called this burrow home.
Her shoulders uncoiled almost too fast under the yellowing bruises as she released her pack.
She winced, rolling them to ease the tension before taking out her canteen.
Despite measured sips, the water did little to quench her thirst. She would have to find a source of clean water soon.
Especially now that she’d found shelter.
She’d come into the sphere with a few full canteens and several provisions—it was part of a list she’d been forced to memorize alongside Kayce in the Ranger’s Guild.
The rediscovered knowledge had startled Lia at first. She wasn’t a survivalist by nature on Earth, yet in Norenth, she had been to a degree.
Knowledge or no knowledge, her aching body protested. Just a few moments rest wouldn’t hurt. Lia fished out her notebook and a sandwich sent courtesy of Marcus. He’d been adamant about making several for the trip.
“Think of it like a retreat,” he’d said, laying banana slices over the peanut butter and jelly. “I’m sure there won’t be any light pollution, from the sounds of it. The stars will be spectacular.”
Considering how dense the canopy was, Lia could only muse the same. However, what she had glimpsed the night before was quite magnificent.
Yet nothing could top the Emperium. She hoped she would be there with Marcus the day he Sparked and saw it all for the first time. A smile traced Lia’s lips. She was grateful it had been Kayce by her side. She couldn’t think of anyone else she would have wanted there.
Despite his distant demeanor at the time, Lia had told Kayce and his brothers about the dark Flameheart while at her papa’s—that a traitor was helping the Seekers find the Initiis. Or worse, that person had already given them one of the three pieces.
Opening the journal, Lia leafed through the pages until she found her notes.
She added “Dark Flameheart” beside the Seekers.
Somehow, they’d converted this Flameheart to their cause.
How, Lia couldn’t guess. It twisted her stomach, ruining the sandwich.
Flameheart oath notwithstanding, the betrayal was a low blow.
The two groups had been at odds since the beginning.
The Seekers wanted the power found in the Emperium, power their ancestors witnessed during the First Rift and they could no longer access.
What would a Flameheart get from helping them?
Unless they didn’t want a what, but a who.
When the barriers crumble and Malum is freed, daughter of flame, there will be no place in all the realms you can hide.
The creature’s words made her shiver despite the muggy air, but Lia focused not on her own jeopardy, but on the admission. Malum would be freed once the barriers fell entirely. What Flameheart wanted that?
Lia didn’t know for certain that it was someone in their chapter of the Order, but as disconcerting as it was, it made sense.
It needed to be someone close to her papa, one who knew his work.
She would wager a guess his role had been more than just mapmaking, but had also included the search for tears in the worlds.
Fishing out a pen, she wrote the members’ names in her chapter, starting with the ones she knew had been closest to Papa.
Obviously, there was Leo. Lia recalled his warmth and concern in a manner so similar to her papa’s that it swelled the grief in her chest. He had helped her each step of the way.
He’d advocated for Kayce. And Mom trusted him.
Even if he seemed to know more than he was letting on.
And he didn’t deny taking some of Papa’s research.
Then there was Adrian and Mirel. The squirrel, while working closest with her papa as the record keeper, didn’t seem to have a murderous bone in his body.
Plus, he’d given her and Kayce the information about the Initiis.
Then again, he seemed to be one who’d known most about Papa’s work. They would be nowhere without him.
Mirel, on the other hand, was apparently good at cover-ups. She’d been there when the gremlin attacked her, but she was playing ignorant of the fact. Lia wasn’t sure if the ignorance was genuine or not.
She continued to bounce names around, analyzing motives until a steady ache pulsed between her brows.
This wasn’t exactly what Kayce meant by putting herself first. However, being in a realm apart from her own helped untangle her thoughts.
Away from everything, Lia knew she needed this space to figure out what she really wanted.
Who she truly was.
While lost in introspection, the headache grew in tandem with the dryness of her mouth.
Pen in pocket and canteen in hand, Lia noted her shelter before walking toward what little she could see of the suns. She had only made it several paces past a particularly mossy tree when, out of the corner of her eye, the air shimmered.
She blinked hard, doing a double take. The dehydration had to be getting to her. But when she looked again, the air continued to shift, to waver between the boughs of a weeping willow. A small lake beckoned with a mirror-like surface, but the water didn’t call to her.
There was a steady hum—small, so faint it was like a ringing in the ears—that pulled at Lia.
Mindful of her step, she parted the wispy, ground-sweeping branches, paying no mind to the slender leaves tickling her bare arms. Between two arching boughs, no bigger than a window, the air fluttered like gauze on a breeze.
Lia shifted, catching it from different angles. Within, she could see stars flickering in and out of existence. No, not stars. Worlds.
Her throat tightened. This realm’s boundaries were about to rip apart.