Crystal Heart

  Edited by Chelsea Cambeis

  Proofread by Lana King & Grace Nehls

  CRYSTAL HEART

  Copyright © 2020 Whitney Morris

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, please write to the publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Published by BHC Press

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2019954370

  ISBN: 978-1-64397-069-1 (Hardcover)

  ISBN: 978-1-64397-100-1 (Softcover)

  ISBN: 978-1-64397-101-8 (Ebook)

  For information, write:

  BHC Press

  885 Penniman #5505

  Plymouth, MI 48170

  Visit the publisher:

  www.bhcpress.com

  Maggie

  Maggie rounded a corner and dropped to her knees panting. She was in front of another hedged wall so high it looked like it touched the sky. Every turn she’d taken looked the same as the one before. Her legs ached. Her heart pounded in her ears. With every breath she took, it felt as if her lungs might burst. She had no idea how she had ended up in this maze, but she knew she had to get out. The maze was horribly quiet, except for the disturbingly high-pitched screeches that sounded every few minutes. It was a nasty sound that made her shudder every time she heard it. She’d never heard a sound like it and did not want to know what sort of creature it belonged to. There had to be a way out of this maze, and she needed to find it quick.

  Just an hour ago—at least she thought it had been an hour—Maggie had been walking down the high street on her way home. The sounds of traffic and the smell of car fumes had filled the air. She’d been busy thinking about what to have for dinner when everything went black. When she came to, she was covered in leaves and everything smelled like mouldy vegetables. Before she’d been able to process where she was, that ghastly screech shook the hedges. She took off running and hadn’t stopped till now.

  Maggie pushed herself up and forced her legs forward. She couldn’t give up now. An exit could be just around the corner. As she tuned another corner, her legs gave way, and she stumbled into a hedge. She threw her arm up to protect her head as thorns dug into her skin. She bit her lip and quickly pulled herself out of the bush. Maggie slumped onto the ground. This wasn’t working. Blindly running around this place was getting her nowhere. Maggie lifted her injured arm to her face. Several scratches covered the length of it. They would be easily healed. She waved her other hand over her cuts and muttered the words, “Sanum quod fit.” Her hand began to glow. One by one, her cuts disappeared. Being a descendant of magic beings from another world had its benefits.

  Magic! Maggie slapped her forehead. Why hadn’t she thought of it sooner? She’d been pretending to be human for so long it hadn’t crossed her mind. Closing her eyes, she let her senses take over, and there it was—the gentle hum of magic. The place stank of it. Someone strong had created this place. She must’ve been more out of practice than she realised to have not sensed it sooner.

  Maggie ran her hand over the hedges and tried to push the branches apart. There was no response. She couldn’t sense any life in the hedges. She bit her lip. Never had she come across a plant she couldn’t manipulate before. A different approach was needed. Maggie slammed her hands on the ground, and it began to shake. There were tremors beneath her feet, but the scenery did not falter. The ground did not crack like it should. Nor did any of the hedges move. Maggie yelled as she punched the ground. It was an illusion. How had she been so stupid not to notice before? Clenching her fist, the tremors stopped. Throwing her arms in the air, light illuminated around her. As she rose to her feet, she pushed the light out. The area in front of her cracked. Maggie pulled the light back and refocused it on the crack. The illusion shattered like a glass window.

  Maggie blinked a few times as if waking from a dream. In front of her stood a forest full of evergreens. The smell of damp leaves and pine overwhelmed her. She shivered as the wind blew through the trees, rustling the leaves. Where was she? A slow clap sounded behind her. Maggie spun round.

  “You really are the one,” came a voice in the trees. “I was starting to think that fool had brought me the wrong girl, but you really are her heir.”

  Maggie searched the trees for the source of the voice. “Who’s there?”

  A dark figure stepped out from the trees. Maggie stumbled back, eyes wide. Shadows flowed from the figure. The Shadow Man. But that was just a story her parents had told her to frighten her as a child—a way to make sure she kept her powers hidden from the humans. He couldn’t be real.

  The figure walked toward her. Two black wings sprouted from the creature’s back. Talons grew from its hands. Long, dark curls circled the creature’s face. Shadows danced around the distinct curves of a female. The Shadow Man was in fact a woman. Shadows jumped from the creature, toward Maggie. She screamed, jumping back and falling over a branch.

  The dark figure cackled. “Is this it? This is all the fight I get?”

  Maggie scrambled backward, trying to get her feet under her. “Who—what?”

  “Disappointing. I hope the other heir is more entertaining,” mused the Shadow Lady’s sinister voice.

  Maggie’s blood ran cold. They knew there was another. How could they know about her? This was all her fault. Her parents had warned her not to stay in one place too long, not to marry a human, but she had fallen in love. She’d gotten careless, too comfortable. She would not let this creature find the other heir. Maggie clenched her fists. Light radiated from her. She jumped to her feet. With all her strength, she threw a massive blast of light at the creature. A loud boom echoed through the forest. The trees in front of her lay flat. She spun round on the spot. Where had that dark figure gone? Had she defeated it? Shadow only existed in the absence of light, and she was light. Maggie was hit with a big gust of wind, and her feet flew off the ground. She screamed as she was thrown up in the air. Reaching out, Maggie called to the trees. The trees rapidly grew toward her, but before they could catch her, a shadow grabbed her, slamming her on the ground. Maggie yelled as her arm cracked. Shadows wrapped around her.

  “You know, earth magic is common amongst elves,” the sinister voice came from above, “but light magic, now that’s rare, and you have both. It’s what makes you royals stand out.”

  Maggie wriggled on the ground. She tried to summon light, but it wouldn’t come. There was a thud beside her, and a hand yanked her hair. Two big, yellow, eagle-like eyes stared her in the face.

  “Now, girl,” said the Shadow Lady, “tell me where I can find the other royal, and I’ll make your death quick.”

  “Th-There is no other,” stuttered Maggie. A sharp pain shot through her face as talons dug into her cheek.

  “Do not lie to me. My sources tell me there is another.”

  Maggie winced as the talons dug deeper into her skin. Warm blood dripped down her cheek. She had to make them believe her. “There is no other.”

  Maggie hit the ground with a thud. Dirt filled her mouth as a heavy weight pushed into her back.

  “Slow deaths are always more fun.”

  Maggie shut her eyes. It didn’t matter what this monster did to her; she would not give up the last royal. She wished she’d been given more time to teach h
er about magic. She hadn’t even come into her powers yet. Maybe that was a good thing. It was how Maggie had been found. If no one taught her magic, she would pass as human. She would be safe.

  Her daughter would be safe.

  Gregory

  16 Years Later

  The clickity-clack of trains rolling in and out of the station echoed off the high walls. People rushed about, hardly looking up, yet they all seemed to know where they were going. Greg took a deep breath as he tried to stop himself from pacing. Once again, he checked his watch for what felt like the hundredth time. Samson was late. He had agreed to meet him here almost twenty minutes ago. How could he be late on a day like this? If he didn’t get here soon, Samson would miss the train. Greg couldn’t risk being late. The council didn’t like being made to wait. He’d spent the entirety of the previous night trying to figure out what he had done wrong, but he couldn’t think of anything. His father had drilled him with the rules and regulations of the council from a very young age. He’d spent his nineteen years of life trying to stay on the good side of the council. It didn’t make sense for them to call on him like this.

  A train screeched into the station. It was his train. He scoured the crowd for his cousin with no luck. The doors of the train whooshed open as Greg approached them. It looked like he was going to the capital on his own. Greg found a seat on the almost empty train. Who would want to go to the capital if they didn’t have to? It was the last place he wanted to go, but he didn’t want to risk ending up on the wrong side of the council. He looked out the window, hoping to see his cousin frantically running for the train. Hordes of people rushed by his window, none of which were Samson. Greg looked down at his hands as he fiddled with his fingers. Maybe he should get off and pretend he missed the train. Better yet, maybe he should get on another train, never to be seen again. He could go live in the north with the dwarfs. Their settlement was the farthest away from his home. They probably wouldn’t have the same high expectations of him as his father. Although, his height may be a problem.

  A high-pitched whistle blew, and the train shuddered forward. Greg sank into his seat. It was too late to try to run away now. Or was it? He could always hop on another train once he got to the capital. Samson hadn’t made it to the station on time. There was no one to make him go to his meeting. However, he knew if he chose this course of action, he could never come back. His father would never forgive him. There had been many times when he’d thought about going against his father’s wishes, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Greg sat up straight and smoothed out his shirt. He needed to stop thinking like this. Whatever the council had in store for him, he could handle it. After all, he was the youngest person to ever pass the healing exam. He’d been told it was impossible, but he had done it. Thinking about his academic achievements didn’t ease the churning in his stomach. If only he knew what they wanted. Greg jumped as someone sat down next to him. He’d been so lost in thought that he hadn’t noticed Samson approach.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Samson said, “but I made it just in time to catch the train. I have been searching the carriages for you. They’re fuller than usual.”

  “They are?” Greg asked. He’d only seen four other people on the train when he got on.

  “Yeah. I’ve been the only one on this train before. No one wants to go to the capital if they don’t have to. I thought for a moment that you hadn’t made the train, but that was just silly of me. You’re never late.”

  Greg pushed his fringe back. The last time he was late to something, he was six. His father hated tardiness, and he was punished accordingly. He’d never been late for anything since. He always arrived exactly when he meant to, which meant he was always early. “Did you manage to find anything out about this meeting?”

  “I have no idea what the council wants to see you about.” Samson leant back in his seat. “I may work for them, but I don’t have the privilege of knowing what occurs in their meetings, and as you know, I spend most of my time off-site. Why did you need me here?”

  This was true. Greg had all the council procedures memorised. Yet, for some reason, he’d hoped for a different answer. He sank even farther into his seat. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just nervous.”

  Samson tilted his head as his eyebrows drew together. “Why are you nervous? You’ve met with the council before. Your father is a senior member. They’ve all been to your house.”

  “This is different. They were not encounters, and were not official meetings. It’s never good when they summon an outsider to a meeting like this.”

  “Greg, you are not exactly an outsider. Besides you are so by the book, I don’t see what the council could possibly be mad at you about. It could be something positive they wish to see you for.”

  “It’s just extremely frustrating. I cannot think for the life of me what they could want. Good or bad.”

  “You’ll find out once we arrive. Just sit back and enjoy the train ride. Besides, I’m sure your father wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you.”

  Greg raised his eyebrow. “Well, you have more faith in my father than I do.” Greg leant on his armrest and looked out the window. The outside world rushed by in a blur. His father cared more about keeping things hunky-dory with the council than he did about him. He might’ve been his father’s successor, but he would’ve easily been passed over if he didn’t live up to his expectations.

  They arrived in the capital with time to spare, just as planned. Greg shuddered as they walked from the station to the council building. It had been bright and sunny when they left—a nice spring morning—but the capital was dark and gloomy. As usual, it was overclouded with grey. Greg pulled the collar of his jacket up and tucked his hands in his pockets. The bright colours of the city always seemed dim. The darkness that loomed in the air always made Greg uneasy.

  They sat in the council tearooms as Greg waited to be called on. As he sat sipping tea with Samson, he regretted being so early. He was already nervous, but with the dark shadow that loomed over the council, he felt worse than before. For some reason, today the shadowy aura seemed stronger. Trying to calm his nerves, Greg fiddled with his shirt collar and smoothed out his clothes. Just because he felt like a nervous wreck didn’t mean he had to look it.

  Samson patted him on the back. “Stop messing with your collar. Your shirt is fine. Neat and tidy as always, except your hair. That’s what you should be messing with.”

  Greg patted his hair down and messed with his fringe. “What’s wrong with my hair?”

  “It’s in desperate need of a cut, and maybe you should comb it occasionally.”

  Greg folded his arms. “I comb my hair.”

  Samson stirred his drink. “Of course you do. You and my sister are the same. It must be a healer thing. As long as it doesn’t get in the way, you don’t care if your hair is a mess.”

  Greg had taken extra time this morning to make sure he was dressed appropriately to meet with the council, but he hadn’t thought about his hair. He never did. Samson’s hair was shorter than his and neatly combed back. In comparison, Greg’s hair looked like a messy mop. It also didn’t help that he had bright red hair whereas his cousin’s was mouse brown. A much neater colour. Greg flopped his hands on his lap, giving up on his appearance. “How do you work with this darkness over you all the time?” Greg asked as he pointed above them.

  Samson shrugged. “Why do you think I prefer to work off-site? It’s really off-putting.”

  “Isn’t the council doing anything about it? I don’t remember it being this bad as a kid. What if it spreads?”

  Samson looked at the wall and fidgeted in his seat. “It already is.”

  Greg’s blood ran cold. How could the council have let this happen? Was there really no way for them to stop it? Before he could question Samson further, a messenger approached the table and informed him the council was ready to see him. Samson patted him on the back and wished him good luck. Greg followed the messenger down the long corrid
or to the main hall. He’d never been inside the official meeting chambers before. Only council members and whoever was on messenger duty were authorised to enter. It was very rare that they invited outsiders in. It had to be a matter of great importance to do so. Greg checked his shirt was straight one last time before entering the room.

  The hall was much simpler than he’d expected. Plain cream walls with two big oil paintings hung on opposite sides. The only furniture in the room was a big oval table, which all the council members were sitting round. Everyone turned to look at him. He bowed. As he rose, he searched the table for his father. He spotted him on the right, but he would not meet Greg’s eyes.

  Lady Gabrielle stood and gave him a gentle smile. “Gregory, it is good of you to join us this morning.” Greg let out a sigh of relief. She didn’t seem angry. She’d smiled at him. Lady Gabrielle was the chairwoman of the council. If she was happy, it meant the rest of them would be. “You are probably wondering why we have called you here. It is nothing to worry about. We simply want to know more about your research paper on the Great War and the elves.”

  Why were the council reading his paper? It was well written, and he’d gotten top marks as usual. With his grade on that paper, he now only needed twenty more credits to get his honours, but that wouldn’t concern the council. They had more important things to do. “What exactly do you want to know about it?” he asked.

  Lady Gabrielle interlaced her fingers. “We wanted to know how you came to your conclusion at the end of your research paper. Specifically the part about the possible location of the keeper of the Heart Crystal.”

  “I did a lot of research to see if there was anything more to the story. It was something that had been bothering me for a while. I’ve never met an elf. No one has. They haven’t been seen for years. I concluded they must have crossed the veil. Freya’s heir was only a baby at the time. Maybe the elves thought she would be safer hidden amongst the humans. They’re the only beings that cannot sense someone’s magical aura.”