Page 61 of HeartTorn

I stand there. Shocked to stillness. Staring down at those still figures. Are they dead? Did I kill them? No, they’re breathing, I think.

Slowly I lift my gaze to the two unicorns. They’re as astonished as I am, their hearts still vibrating with the force of that song. Tongues of soulfire lick across their flanks. They look from their fallen riders to me. Their eyes are deep as the night sky, filled with dancing flame.

Pivoting on heel, I prepare to run and run and run and run, I don’t know where as long as it’s far from here. I lift my foot, ready to take the first step.

Halamar looms before me. Big, terrifying, and untouched by whatever force felled the other two. He stares down at me, hisstoic face broken in an expression of terror. He raises a fist. “No, wait!” I cry, lifting my hands.

Too late. His blow strikes me across the temple, and I know nothing more.

30

TAAR

Elder Halaema’s eyes are fixed on me as I pace back and forth across the dirt floor of mydakath.She sits cross-legged on a matt by the central fire, her pose serene but her gaze shrewd.

The main chamber of my home feels crowded just now, with Onor Gantarith seated to one side of the elder, and Tassa keeping to the shadows but observing all. Halamar stands still before the others. Firelight plays across his face.

“And you’re sure of what you saw?” I demand, my voice limned with pain. Though the initial stabbing of thevelraat my bride’s sudden departure has dulled somewhat, it continues to throb every so often. I hate how weak I feel, my legs trembling with the effort to keep my body upright. Yet I cannot bear to sit. Nervous energy bubbles in my veins.

“I’m not sure Isawanything,” Halamar says gravely, his face forward, but his eyes following me. “I heard something—the human’s voice. She cried out in a strange way. One might almost say shesang.There came something like a vibration in the air, and both Birenthor and Vomyar dropped like straw dolls.”

“Magic,” Elder Halaema growls. “This proves she is a Miphata. Sent by her kind to spy on the Hidden City, to weaken us from within.” She eyes me narrowly. “She must have used enchantments to ensnare you. That’s why you didn’t see it right away.”

Part of me believes her. Part of me feels that only sorcery could have driven me to take leave of my senses the way I haveover this woman. It’s the only explanation for the rage even now churning in my gut.

“That’s impossible,” I say, careful to keep my tone level, to betray nothing of the murder straining against my better instincts. “I’ve never once detected the faintest hint of Miphates magic on her. She is gods-gifted; she informed me of that herself.”

“And you didn’t stop to question whether or not she lied?” Halaema raises a hand as I begin to protest. “It doesn’t matter. Whether it’s gods-gifting, Miphates magic, or some dark new form ofnecrolipha,she revealed her powers and used them to attack our people.”

“I would like to point out,” Halamar rumbles, his head inclined respectfully, “that neither Birenthor nor Vomyar was hurt. They were but momentarily stunned. After the fact Vomyar complained of a slight headache, nothing worse.”

“And Vomyar will lament over a hangnail,” Tassa mutters from her corner of the room.

Elder Halaema shoots her a warning glance before turning her attention back to Halamar. “What does it matter? Who knows what worse she might have done to them if you weren’t there, good Halamar?”

He tilts his head slightly. “But I wasn’t influenced by her power. If it was a spell she cast, it did not touch me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she used licorneir magic.”

“What?” I’m not sure who barks the question first. We all stare at Halamar, shocked at the mere suggestion.

He continues calmly. “The vibration in the air reminded me of thevelrabond—of the power passing from one soul to another. And just before Birenthor and Vomyar fell, both their licorneir suddenly dropped their heads, horns pointed at them.”

“You’re saying she turned the licorneir on their own riders?” Onor Gantarith says, horrified.

“I’m saying that she—a human—influenced them.”

“But that’s impossible!” Gantarith shakes his head vehemently and turns to the elder. “The licorneir bond is sacred to Nornala, bestowed by her grace only on the people of Licorna. That bond is far too pure to be corrupted by human influence.”

Even as the priest protests, however, I remember another time when Ilsevel joined with a licorneir in an act of power. I would not be here today if Elydark had not found her, and if she had not used her profound gift, mingling her voice with his to draw me back from the darkness of virulium.

“She is gods-gifted,” I say again, and catch Onor Gantarith’s eye. “You know this. You heard her singing in the Moon Chamber. I told you then that she can hear the songs of the licorneir.”

“And I told you,” he responds sharply, “that such songs were not meant for human ears. I never dreamt that, along with hearing them, she might somehow manipulate their song.”

With an effort of supreme will, I keep the swelling rage in my breast in check. “She was afraid for her life. She acted out of self-defense.”

“And she might have killed our people in the process,” Elder Halaema inserts. “The next time, she very well might.” I turn to her, but she holds up a silencing hand. “I know you want to believe your warbride,luinar.You’ve grown attached—few men wouldn’t, bound by thevelraas you are. But there’s no way of knowing if these powers of hers are truly a gods-gift or something else. Some new, darker power of the Miphates, drawn from the Rift and warped to their purpose.”

“She’s not like that,” I say. But even as the words leave my mouth, I remember that confession, tumbling from her lips.

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