Heart Song Read online

  Heart Song

  Published by Samantha LaFantasie

  Copyright © 2012

  by Samantha LaFantasie

  2nd Ed.

  http://www.samanthalafantasie.com

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transferred in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction.

  Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Kindle Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Cover Design:

  Design by Francis P. LaFantasie III

  Beyond the Mists Brush Set by Midnights Touch

  http://www.brusheezy.com/members/midnightstouch

  Space Brush Pack 2 by Helen Art at Home

  http://www.brusheezy.com/members/helenartathome

  Eyes Brush Set by Super Designer

  http://www.brusheezy.com/members/super-designer

  Editing provided by Kris Kendall with Final-Edits.

  For Phil. Because without you, I’m nothing.

  Table of Contents

  One—Betrayed

  Two —Hostage

  Three—Unsettling

  Four—Forgotten Secrets

  Five—Therianthrope

  Six—Reveal Of A Dark Secret

  Seven—Anticipate And Respond Accordingly

  Eight—The Prophecy

  Nine—The Ancients

  Ten—The Change

  Eleven—A Warm Reunion With Cold Tensions

  Twelve—Crossing Over

  Thirteen—Prisoner

  Fourteen—Breaking From The Nightmare

  Fifteen—Expecting

  Sixteen—Broken And Shunned

  Seventeen—All Roads Lead To You

  Eighteen—A Reprieve Earned

  Nineteen—Taken To A Dark Place

  Twenty—What Is Lost Can Be Found

  Twenty-One—Awakened For War

  Twenty-Two—Saying Goodbye

  Twenty-Three—Distraction

  Twenty-Four—Naloud

  Twenty-Five—A Plan Set In Motion

  Twenty-Six—Destroyed By Cyrs

  Twenty-Seven—All Grown Up

  Twenty-Eight—Gone

  Twenty-Nine—New Allies

  Thirty—A Fallen Comrade To Kill An Enemy

  Acknowledgments

  I’ve read numerous books where authors have put in their acknowledgments the shock of really just how much work goes into not just writing a book, but also publishing and marketing, etc. Really, it is that much work and sometimes more. The hours upon hours spent pouring over the manuscript to prepare it for publishing is just the beginning. And I didn’t do this on my own. I had an incredible husband who took over the house and taking care of the kids (especially during NaNoWriMo), and stayed up late at night as I read every version written, listened to my rants, and stood by rubbing my back when I couldn’t make a scene work the way I wanted. I also have a group of talented writer friends in my critique group, a wonderful writer’s organization, and helpful beta readers.

  To say this was a labor of love would be to undermine exactly just how much work has gone into this novel. I’ve shed blood, sweat and tears for this book and spent many, many months researching languages and making sure I had correctly spelled the words and had them in the right order. Not to mention numerous rewrites and edits, just to get it to where it is now. And although I’m admittedly a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to things that are close to my heart, I can never really feel that this can be perfect enough. However, I feel that I have done all I can do. The story is, for all intents and purposes, finished.

  With that in mind, there are a few people that I wish to give credit and gratitude.

  To my family, thank you, most especially, for sticking with me and being that force of support when I was stuck in front of the computer for days on end. I’m ever grateful for all of you.

  To a very special and equally talented friend, Makayla Yokley, who not only was just as supportive of my endeavors of writing but for also being one heck of a beta reader. Your thoughts and ideas were spot on and only helped to make my book the way it is now.

  To my critique group, the Fighting Hamsters, your patience, support and input helped me get to this place. I’m forever grateful. Thank you so much.

  To all of the KWA, thank you for showing me there is a group out there who is supportive and whose encouragement has helped me through some of my worst self-doubts.

  Words in Translation

  Cherokee

  Gvgeyu: guh-gay-yoo: I love you

  Nigohilv: nee-go-hee-l- uh: Always

  Waya: wah-yah: Wolf

  Uwoduhi: oo-wo-do-hee: Beautiful

  Gaelic

  A’lainn: aw-lin: Beautiful

  A’thair: a-her: Father

  1

  Betrayed

  Frigid air burned my throat with each gulp I took. I forced my legs to pump faster, desperate for my escape. They ached with resistance, burning with a need to cease movement. But the Balai were behind me, rapidly closing the gap between us. The sound of their armor clanking and pounding in uneven rhythms echoed through the alley. I pushed myself further, not allowing myself to be caught. Because this time, I would be sent the Cyr Gypsies.

  I struggled to remain on my feet as I made my way through the garbage-ridden passage. Being propelled by fear and the sting of betrayal made that goal more difficult. Fear, because I know what the Cyrs do to girls and the sting, because I trusted someone and got burned. For being my best friend, he found it very easy to frame me for stealing. I never thought it was possible.

  Yet, I was reaching the end of the alley and searching for an easy slip-through amongst the crowd of townsfolk doing their daily shopping. Their loud bartering with the merchants overwhelmed the sound of my chase. I’ve never been more grateful for the busiest time in the square.

  Finding no easy way through, I was forced to rush into the crowd and knock over a few unsuspecting customers in the process. Their angry shouts fell on deaf ears as I ran along the cobblestone road that stretched through the heart and length of Hafton, towards the woods that surrounded the town.

  As I weaved through the small clusters of people in the crowded marketplace, a loud roar of more disgruntled shoppers behind me signaled the Balai’s appearance. Judging by the commotion, they caused more of a mess and surprise than I did. They shouted halts and tried to call the crowd to catch me, but I was too fast for them.

  The woods were so close that I could taste the sweetness of freedom on my tongue. Once I crossed into those woods, the chase would be over. The guard would be forced to give up. They’d have no hope of catching me then. I would be free, forever.

  Following the quieting of the commotion behind me, I risked a turn to see if the Balai had given up, finding instead they had slowed but still made their way towards me. I turned back around, to continue my run to freedom, just as I slammed into someone. Firm hands grabbed a hold of me, stilling my heart with the shock of icy fear that jolted through my body. I w
as surprised we didn’t fall to the ground with the force of the hit. Yet, he stood strong and I watched with silent horror as the hood slid off of his head, revealing long black hair that curled at the tips in soft ringlets. The color matched his eyes, which were like gazing into black orbs that pierced into my soul.

  Ask any woman and she’d tell you he’s perfect. Every one besides me, of course. I could see the flaws that make him otherwise. The arches of his eyebrows, for example, were too wide and too high. The length of his nose was too long and squared—not to mention that it ended abruptly with a point. And his lips, although they may look perfect from a distance, were in fact uneven and tilted slightly to the left. Clearly imperfect.

  “In a bit of trouble again?” he asked, then smiled. Any other girl would swoon, but not me. Luckily, I’m immune to such atrocities. I rolled my eyes as he released his grip on my arms.

  “Marren,” I forced out between breaths, “if you’ll excuse me, I really need to go.” I stepped to the side, attempting to continue my short jaunt into the woods of my protection, but was stopped when he grabbed my arm again, spinning me around to face the guard, now closer to me than was comfortable.

  “I’m afraid that’s not possible, Relena.” He started walking towards the guard. I struggled against him but he tightened his grip.

  “I’ve been set up,” I added, hoping for...anything other than to be handed to the Balai.

  He chuckled musically. It was out of disbelief, but the sound of it caught me off guard, faltering my step. My heart did an erratic flip, flushing my cheeks with warmth, furthering my insult to injury. I only hoped he didn’t see. I struggled once more. Marren tightened his grip further.

  “You’re hurting my arm,” I snapped.

  “Now, now Relena, your temper is going to get you into more trouble.” His teasing tone saturated his words. It further angered me to the point my blood boiled.

  “I’m not buying your very poor shot at charm. You’ve got me mistaken with the rest of the town,” I retorted and watched in satisfaction as his smile faded.

  The Balai finally met us. They were still struggling to regain their breath while I was able to breathe with ease. Every single one of them had sweat pouring from them. This was what was protecting Hafton? They were pitiful excuses for guards.

  “Relena,” Head Guard Lawrence said, red in the face. His features were scrunched as he panted. His obvious love for spice cakes and ale were the biggest contribution to it, no doubt. “You’ve done it now.” He panted a few more times then removed a red cloth from under his cuirass and wiped his brow, replacing it when he was through. “Take her.”

  Two guards emerged from the back of the group. They slowly stepped closer to me. My lips curled up in amusement at seeing the caution that widened their eyes and each one’s hand stationed just above the hilts of their swords.

  “Thank you very much, Marren,” Head Guard Lawrence said.

  “My pleasure.” The thickness of flattery in his voice made me look over my shoulder just in time to see him bowing his head.

  I rolled my eyes and muttered under my breath, “Arrogant bastard.”

  Marren loosened his grip on my arm as the two guards approached, ready to take me into custody. I took the last chance to make my escape. This time I didn’t stop or look back until I was in the shelter of the woods and deep enough they wouldn’t dare follow.

  ***

  I waited until night swept across the land and before the moon rose to make my way back towards Hafton. During my stint in the sheltering woods of my freedom, I had convinced myself that I could survive living off the land. Depending on myself for survival, and no one else, heavily appealed to me. I couldn’t help but also prove that solitude also meant never getting hurt by anyone again. But I had to go back home to grab my things. I hoped Tarn wouldn’t be there.

  Using the shadows to cloak my appearance, I slipped through town, easily unnoticed. Tucked away in a secluded corner was a rundown inn. In its prime it was the busiest and most beautiful inn around. Now, it was the last remaining all wood structure in town. In fact, it’s the only one in this part of the world, according to some very well-traveled tenants. Business for us practically shut down years ago. If you ask Tarn, it was because of me. He blames me for so many things. But this was my home, offering a leaky roof, creaking floors, and broken down beds. It was all I ever knew.

  I made my approach slowly and as quietly as I could. I searched the shadows beyond the house for evidence of Balai or worse, Cyrs. Seeming clear, I stepped onto the first of the three stairs to the small covered porch that also leaked. It groaned loudly against my weight. The sound echoed back through the city as if to point out my very existence and dare anyone to come and find me. I held my breath, sure that I was caught. But after a few moments of silence, and then quiet chirping of the crickets, I continued up. I reached for the door handle feeling the excitement of my pending permanent freedom looming just out of reach.

  “I heard you’ve gotten yourself into trouble again.” Tarn’s deep voice shattered the silence—and my excitement—in one breath. He sat on the floor of the porch in the darkest corner. I didn’t check the porch to see if anyone was hiding there.

  “It wasn’t my fault. Danst slipped something into my bag and then told the guards—”

  “It makes no difference!” Tarn’s voice rose to that degrading volume and tone that demonstrated how far beneath him he thought I was. “You ran. That makes you guilty.”

  “Father, if you would give me the chance to explain...”

  “No more chances! You’ve made your bed. Now sleep in it!”

  “But you know what the Cyrs will do to me. Please, just let me grab some of my things and I’ll leave, for good. I will never bother you again.”

  “You will. You have always been nothing but a bother.” His voice grew deep and very low. “Take her. I want her out of my sight forever.”

  I jumped when both of my wrists were pulled behind me and bound tightly with rope, the fibers biting into my skin. They quickly placed a gag in my mouth. I didn’t have time to struggle before they were already shoving me down the stairs. I nearly lost my footing in the process. I was escorted to a cart that was brought to the front of the inn from a darkened alley nearby. The cart was covered with a thin layer of straw that looked as though it had weathered and started to rot. I was shoved on, falling face first into the decaying covering. I tried to roll to my side for fresh air, but it didn’t work. The thickness of the sweet, musty stench was too powerful, overriding the fresh air. I gagged painfully, trying not to heave with the gag on and make my situation worse. Though dying, even chocking on my own vomit, was a mercy compared to what the gypsies were known to do to girls. I didn’t want to think of that. I had to think of a way out. I would find a way...somehow.

  “Just so you don’t get any ideas...” one of the men said as he approached the side of the cart. I looked up just in time to see the hilt of his sword come down on my forehead.

  ***

  I came to just as a fight was brewing. I heard the growls of some large, ravenous animal along with screams belonging to the men that took me. They came from outside of wherever I was. I sat up suddenly. My hands, no longer bound behind my back, stung like they’d been burned. The place where the gag had been felt chapped. I stood inside the darkened shelter fearing that I would be the next to be eaten.

  “Relax, you are safe.” The voice of a man I didn’t know came to me calmly and gently.

  “Who are you?” I asked with a level of fear I tried unsuccessfully to keep out. I felt around me and discovered I had been lying on a bench inside a carriage. There were no windows that I could see, or feel, and no telling who else was in there. Fighting my way out wasn’t an option.

  “My name is not important right now,” the man spoke. Though this time, there seemed to be an edge to it. It didn’t help to calm my nerves.

  “What are you going to do to me?”

  “Nothing like wh
at the gypsies would have done,” he replied with an insulted tinge.

  “What’s going on?” I pressed, not accustomed to being vulnerable. Not knowing my situation would never do. Know your surroundings. That’s the first thing I learned when I met Danst.

  “You should lie back down before you make yourself worse. That bump on your head is pretty big.”

  I had forgotten about the hit on the head and was so caught up in my sudden, strange and new surroundings, I didn’t process the pain until it was mentioned. I lifted my hand to the spot on my forehead and felt the tender bump that was the size of a goose egg.

  There was a knock on the side of the carriage that brought with it the sudden realization that everything around had grown incredibly quiet. The silence thickened the air, making it palpable. The man inside with me knocked back twice in return. The carriage jolted forward, forcing my heart to jump into my throat and me back into the seat.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, this time my voice cracked clearly. I silently groaned and rolled my eyes. This would never do at all. Never reveal your weakness was the second thing I learned.

  “Somewhere safe. Now go back to sleep.”

  “Safe? For who? How do I know I can trust you?”

  “You really need to learn to trust people who are trying to help you. You’re going to make yourself worse. Now, lie down, get some rest, and sleep off that bump.” At least his voice remained calm, and level despite a few hints at other emotions throughout my persistence. I wasn’t sure if they were annoyance or anger.

  “I’m afraid I cannot. Not until I get some answers.” It was a compromise I felt was nothing short of reasonable.

  There was no response. I decided to remain sitting up, scooting to a corner of the carriage, and tucking my legs under me. I ran through the events of the day and my recent past to figure out who could’ve wanted to rescue me when the rest of the world seemed content enough to shun me.