Page 59 of HeartTorn

The blade cuts through first one rope then another.

Then Nyathri is up, shaking free of her bonds. Her great hooves crash against the altar stone, and fire erupts from the coils of her horn. How easily she could smash me, pierce me, leave my body pulverized in her wake! She rears on her hind legs and seems to grow three or four times larger before my eyes. I scream and duck into a crouch, dropping my knife and throwing my arms over my head.

But the killing blow does not come. Nyathri pivots, leaps from the altar stone, and flees to one of the dark doorways across the chamber. Her broken song trails behind her. I watch her go, heart dropping like a stone in my gut even as my lungs struggle to take in breath.

Kildorath’s wrathful voice erupts in my ears. Gasping, I turn to see him and his unicorn bear down on me.

28

TAAR

Pain stabs up my arm.

My body responds according to long years of training, leaping into a defensive crouch and reaching for a weapon before the fog of sleep has quite vanished from my vision. I remain like so for some moments, breathing hard, staring around the bare stone chamber for some sign of an enemy. But it’s empty.

Another sharp stab of pain and quiver of weakness. I look down at my forearm. For an instant the coils of thevelraglow bright to my semi-conscious gaze. I see them burning into my flesh even as the cord leads away from me, across the room, and through the heavy doorway curtain.

“Ilsevel,” I whisper.

She’s gone. Gods-damn it, she’s gone!

I’m on my feet in an instant, but stagger and hit the wall, shoulder-first. Curse this damnable bond! A growl in my throat, I yank the curtain open. “Elydark!” I bark. But there’s no sign of either my licorneir or my bride. I told him to stand guard. Not once in all the years of our bond has Elydark failed to fulfill such a direct command. Did she bewitch him somehow? Did she use that gods-gift of hers and overwhelm his will?

Thevelratugs. It leads unmistakably down the passage, back toward the temple center. I can almost see it, gleaming like a thread of fire. My eyes widen. Is she making for the altar and . . . ?

“No, no, no!” I set off at a run, careening painfully into the wall every few paces. I cannot seem to move my feet fast enough, and my heart beats laboriously against my ribcage. Wrath pulses in my veins, but for the moment I’m too afraid to give it any heed. I simply must find her. Now. Before the worst happens. My head swims, and my vision darkens on the edges, but still I push on.

Suddenly my licorneir is before me. He glows faintly in the dim light of the passage. Beyond him is one of the numerous entrances to the Moon Chamber, the air still thick with smoke and ash. “Elydark!” I cry, my voice echoing against stone.

He swings his head around, looks at me along the length of his horn.Forgive me, Vellar,he sings into my head.I had to see. I had to know.

“Had to know what?” Staggering to his side, I lean heavily against his shoulder and look out into the chamber. My heart stops.

Ilsevel is there. I’d know that slight frame of hers anywhere, even covered in a heavy cloak. She sways a little as though under great strain. It’s like she’s battling some invisible force, pushing her way forward one determined step after the next. Her gaze is fixed on Nyathri, bound to the altar stone. I hear nothing, not even the faintest whisper of breath. The air is painfully still, almost sharp. But there’s song here in this space. Beyond my perception, louder and deeper than anything I can imagine.

“What is she doing?” I rasp, hardly able to bear speaking into that brimming silence.

She is finding her song,Elydark replies, tossing his head.She is seeking her name.

It cannot be. Ilsevel is human. I don’t care if she’s god-gifted—the blessing of the licorneir bond belongs to the Licornyn people alone. It is our grace, handed down to us from Nornala herself.No human can possibly hope to find a sacred soul-song, much less one as shattered as Nyathri’s.

Suddenly a knife gleams in Ilsevel’s hand—the very knife I gave her the night of our wedding. “Damn it,” I snarl, taking a lunging step forward. “I must put a stop to this.”

No, Vellar!Elydark turns his head sharply and blocks me with his horn.Let us see how it plays out. Let us wait and—

He doesn’t get a chance to finish. A voice bellows from across the chamber, breaking that melodic stillness with harsh discord: “Ra drothei!”

Kildorath appears in the doorway opposite me, mounted on Miramenor. He does not see me, standing in the shadows with Elydark. His gaze is fastened on Ilsevel with predatory purpose.

She turns to him. Her cheeks drain of all color.

The next few moments happen in a tumult. Ilsevel dives for the altar, even as Kildorath urges his licorneir forward. I am already swinging myself up onto Elydark’s back, bellowing:“Vulmon,Elydark!”

He springs into action. It’s as though he’s momentarily lost all physical form and become a bolt of pure soulfire, streaking across the Moon Chamber. Within a heartbeat, he draws alongside Miramenor, and I am hip-to-knee with Kildorath.

I have no weapon on me. It doesn’t matter. With a roar I throw myself at him. He sees me in the last instant, and his eyes widen, but he’s too late to put up any defense. My arms wrap around him, and we land hard on the ash-strewn stones, rolling as our licorneir part and gallop, each to one side of the altar stone.

Though stunned, Kildorath tries to defend himself. But now the weakness which thevelrahad inflicted on me reverses. Back in Ilsevel’s presence, my strength is doubled, and any reticence I might have felt against striking my old friend is long forgotten.I pound his face, grab his shoulders, and knock the back of his head against the pavers. “I’llkillyouif you touch her!” I roar.

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