A Heart So Fierce and Broken (The Cursebreaker Series Book 2)

I wake looking into a fire, lying facedown on a pile of soft blankets. I have no recollection of sleeping, and I recognize nothing. The walls are paneled wood, and the fireplace is small. This is not a room in the palace.

I inhale sharply, and every wound on my body protests. I bite back a cry.

“The last time I stitched you up, you ignored me and went off to fight a monster.” Noah’s voice is low, speaking from the opposite side of the room. “I think this might slow you down a bit more.”

I fight to turn my head. Noah sits curled in a wooden chair in the corner nearest the door, a steaming mug balanced between his hands. To his left is a wide pallet bed. Tycho’s face is buried in blankets, but I recognize the shock of blond hair and the lightly muscled arm that’s fallen to rest on the ground.

Even from here, I can see the stripes of red that decorate his back. My eyes flinch away.

My fault.

Another man lies on the opposite side of the pallet, but all I can see are his boots. It must be Jacob.

I have no idea where we are, but at present, I do not care. I lift a hand to rub at my eyes, and even that hurts in ways I do not expect. “The lash marks required stitching?”

“A few of them did. Tycho’s were more superficial, but not by much. I think they went easier on him.” His quiet voice is thick with disgust.

“You are angry.”

“You bet I’m angry. I know things are … different here, but it doesn’t matter. War and torture are two different things.”

I don’t disagree with him. After everything Lilith did, this feels intensely personal—and somehow more humiliating. My hand flexes on the blanket. On the topic of humiliation, my body has needs.

“Noah,” I say. “I need …”

“What? Oh.” He uncurls from the chair.

Standing takes nearly all my strength, even with Noah hooking his hands under my arms to help lift.

“We have to go outside,” he says. “You can lean on me.”

I don’t want to, but after a few steps, my ears are ringing and my vision goes spotty, so I do. We slip down a short hallway and out a door. The air is cool and crisp, both a relief and an assault on my bare back. Sunrise is a purple promise on the horizon. The hour is early, so Noah eases the door closed behind us. A stretch of grass leads to a small barn, bright in the lingering moonlight.

In a flash, I recognize where we are. The last time I was here, it was the dead of winter, with snow blanketing everything in white.

The Crooked Boar. The inn that offered shelter to Rhen and Harper. The inn where everything changed.

I rub at my eyes again.

He leads me to a small copse of trees. “Do you want me to stand with you?” says Noah. “Or do you want privacy?”

Right now I don’t care, but I appreciate that he’s allowing me a moment of dignity. “I can stand,” I say, though I’m not entirely sure. He moves away, though only far enough to lean against the inn and avert his eyes. When I’m finished, he’s back at my side without my asking.

“You are being kind,” I say to him. “I do not think I deserve it.”

“When I became a doctor, I swore an oath to help people in need.” He lets me lean on him again. “Whether they deserve it or not.”

We approach the door, but I hesitate. Even here, in this innocuous space, the thought of going back into a closed-up room makes my pulse speed up. “I would like to sit outside,” I say.

I expect Noah to refuse, but he changes course to help me to the bench beside the back wall of the inn.

Once I’m sitting, I cannot get comfortable. I settle for bracing my forearms on my knees and gritting my teeth against the ache in my back. We sit in silence for the longest time, inhaling the dawn air.

“What exactly happened?” Noah finally says. “Why did they all drop like that?”

I remember the crack and the flash and the sudden silence.

I remember the panic in my head as I realized Rhen meant to flay Tycho to get to me.

It is a level of cruelty I never expected from him.

“I do not know,” I say.

“I know magic exists here,” says Noah, “but I have a hard time considering that until three dozen people drop like a rock.”

My shoulders tense.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” he says.

I say nothing.

“If it wasn’t you,” he continues, “it was Tycho, but he was unconscious and you weren’t. So.”

I stare at my hands. Blood has dried in the creases of my fingers, mixing with dirt and grit. “If you have figured it out, the prince will not be long behind.” I glance up at the grass and the stables. “We will have to move on. The innkeeper and his family are in danger by my presence.”

Though in truth, I have no idea where I will go, or where I will take Tycho.

“You’re the one everyone is looking for,” says Noah. “The magesmith.” He pauses. “The heir.”

He says it like he can’t quite believe it, but I nod.

“Did you know? That whole time you were trapped by the curse—did you know?”

“No.” My voice sharpens with anger, fed by the pain across my back. “You think I would have endured what I did if I’d known I had some shred of magic? Truly?”

He’s staring back at me impassively, and I sigh. My anger is not with Noah. “I did not find out until I took Lilith to the other side. She tried to bargain her freedom with the truth. Even then, I had no idea how to wield magic.” I pause. “I still have no idea how I did what I did in the courtyard.”

“When Lilith told you the truth … why did you run? Why did you leave?”

“Karis Luran had already spread doubt, the first day she came to Ironrose. I knew my existence would threaten the line of succession.” I pause. “I thought it would be easier if everyone thought I was dead.”

He’s quiet for a while. “Does this seem easier, Grey?”

I think of the shadows in Rhen’s eyes when we spoke in his chambers, the uneasy tension in his body when he told me about Silvermoon and everything that was at risk. “I did not consider that Rhen would fear magic more than he fears losing his throne. I should have.”

Noah snorts. “Fear makes people act in ways we’d never expect.”

“Indeed. He proved that last night.”

“Why didn’t you just tell him?” he says, but then he sighs without waiting for a reply. Anger threads between his words again. “Never mind. I saw what he was willing to do to get an answer, so I can only imagine what he would have done once he had it.”

“Emberfall is already in danger of civil war. An attack by Karis Luran may be imminent, especially now that Rhen holds her daughter prisoner.” I stop short as a flicker of memory breaks through the haze in my mind. Lia Mara beside me, helping to support Tycho’s weight as I release him from the wall. Did that happen? Did she escape? I cannot make the memory come together, and it likely does not matter anyway. I shake my head. “Rhen is trying to keep his country together.”

Noah says nothing. I shift my weight, wince, and put my arms back exactly as they were.

“You should return to Ironrose,” I say. “Now, while the hour is early. You will be seen as a traitor if you are found with me.”

“No.”

He speaks the word so simply. I turn my head to look at him, but his jaw is set, his arms tense where they rest against his knees.

“No?”

“I already told Jake that I’d rather be complicit in helping you escape than in what Rhen was doing.”

“Because of your oath?”

“Because it’s wrong.” He glances at me, and his voice is fierce. “Where I come from, people like me have a history with that … that kind of torture. I’m not going to be a part of it. I don’t care if that makes me a traitor.”

I study him. “Noah—there are already whispers of you possessing some magic of your own. If you flee with me …”

“Magic.” He snorts. “It’s medicine. It’s science. You know what’s funny? On the other side, I was judged for the color of my skin. For being attracted to men. Then I come here and no one cares about those things. Here, they question whether a healer is noble enough to be in love with a prince. They question how I can make a rash go away or break a fever.” He rolls his eyes.

A breeze sweeps between the barn and the inn, making me shiver. My heart begs for action, but I have no action to take—and I likely can’t do much anyway.

“How long will these take to heal?” I say.

“Weeks.” He pauses. “Maybe less. I’ll see if the innkeeper’s wife has some ginger and turmeric to bring down the inflammation.”

I lower my voice, though the hour is early and everyone is still asleep. “Why do they think we’re here?”

“They only saw me and Jake, and they know us. We said you and Tycho were injured in an assault on the road, and we needed to stop for the night.”

Innocent enough, and nothing that will arouse suspicion. I’ll need to find a shirt before anyone sees my back. “Tycho has … been through much,” I say. I glance over. “Did he wake last night?”

“Yes. Several times.” He pauses. “He kept asking if we got you out, too.”

I keep seeing the boy’s face in the loft at Worwick’s. I’ll keep your secret, Hawk.

I run a hand across my jaw. “I should never have involved him in this. In any of this.”

To my surprise, Noah laughs quietly. “You probably couldn’t have stopped him. That kid would follow you off a cliff.”

I inhale to answer, but thundering hoofbeats stop me. I’m on my feet before my body protests the motion.

“At least two horses,” I say to Noah. “Maybe more.” My hand automatically reaches for a blade, but I have nothing.

As if I could fight.

“Go inside,” I say. “Hide the others. I’ll take a horse. They’re looking for me.”

“You can’t ride! You can’t—”

“Go!”

We’re not going to be fast enough. The hoofbeats are nearly upon the property. Guardsmen will search the premises and tear through anyone who gets in their way.

A horse appears around the side of the inn, and I realize it’s all over. Of course they’ve sent men to prevent escape through the back. My hands are in fists. I can’t feel the pain in my back any longer.

“Grey?”

I freeze. It’s Harper—and behind her, on another horse, is Zo.

I don’t know what this means. I glance between them.

Harper swings down from the horse without hesitation. “I don’t have a lot of time. Rhen is meeting with his advisers. The Royal Guard will be looking for you at full light.” She fumbles with a saddlebag, then carries it across the clearing to me. Her expression is dark and full of concern. “Here, I brought you some clothes …” Her eyes flick down my body, and her voice trails off. “Oh, Grey.”

She cannot even see the worst of it, but I know there are two lash marks that wrapped around my rib cage. One parallels a scar I earned fighting Rhen in monster form, which seems fitting somehow.

She reaches out to touch my arm, her fingers warm and gentle.

When she tries to turn me, I hold fast. “No.”

Her eyes meet mine, and the pity there is almost worse than the humiliation of what happened. A moment of weighted tension hangs between us, broken only when Noah steps forward to take the saddlebag.

“He needs to put a shirt on,” he says.

That spurs her into action. “Um. Yes. Clothes! Here.” She unbuckles the bag and drags out a shirt.

Simply sitting on the bench was painful, so I can imagine what moving my arms through sleeves will feel like.

My imagination does not do it justice. Setting my body on fire would hurt less. Noah helps as best he can, but by the time the loose fabric slides down my back, I’m dizzy and sweating.

Harper’s pitying glances are not helping.

I ease onto the bench, because the alternative is collapsing at her feet. When I speak, my voice is rough. “I told you what he would do. I told you I would not fault him for it.”

The words feel false as I speak them. Or … not false. Incomplete.

I would not have faulted Rhen for doing this to me alone.

Harper drops onto the bench beside me. I cannot meet her gaze.

“I fault him for it,” she says quietly.

“My lady,” says Zo, from near the horses. “If you wish to avoid detection, we should ride out soon.”

“Not yet.” Harper reaches out to take my hand. “Grey.”

I finally look at her. “I cannot take your pity.”

She closes her fingers on mine before I can pull away. “I don’t pity you.” She studies me. “It was you, wasn’t it?” She pauses. “You’re the one with magic.”

This is different from when Noah asked the same thing. Harper was trapped with us. She risked so much. The scar across her cheek is proof of that. The thought that I might have been able to fight Lilith in a different way is almost too much to bear.

“Forgive me,” I say. “I did not know.”

“You’re Rhen’s brother.” Her voice is so quiet. “All that time you were trapped together, and neither of you knew.”

“It would have been worse to know,” I say. But as I say the words, I realize I don’t know if they’re true. I frown. “And clearly it does not matter, if he plans to send the Royal Guard after me.”

“I … I wish you had told me. I wish you had told him.” Then she frowns, as if realizing how that would have played out. “I wish … I wish …”

“I wished a lot of things,” I say, “while the curse held us captive. Wishing solves nothing.” I pause and glance at Zo again. “You cannot stay here. If you are found with me … it would force Rhen’s hand, and I do not like to think of what he might do.”

Harper’s expression turns stony. “First, I’d like to see him try. Second, you flattened everyone in that courtyard—including him. He’s terrified of magic trapping him again.” She pauses. “He’s not going to come running after you without a strategy. I want to see if I can stop him before that happens.”

She is so fierce. I am reminded of why everyone in Emberfall believes she has an army at her disposal.

She won’t be able to stop Rhen, though. If he was willing to do what he did, he’s not going to stop now.

The door at the back of the inn rattles. I expect the innkeeper or his wife, but instead, Tycho stumbles through. He’s shirtless and pale, his eyes a little wild.

Jacob is right behind him, rubbing at his eyes. “See? I told you they were still here. Hey, Harp.”

“Hey,” she says, but her eyes are on the boy. “Tycho. Here. Sit.”

It’s not an order, but he bows his head and murmurs, “Yes, my lady,” before easing onto the bench as gingerly as I did.

Harper gets a good look at his back and her steely eyes return to mine. Her jaw is clenched. “This is too far.”

I do not challenge her. We all fall into silence. A breeze pulls a shiver out of Tycho.

I need a plan. When I first ran from Ironrose months ago, I was injured, but not badly. No one was looking for me, so I was able to find work at Worwick’s.

Now everyone will be looking for me. And likely Tycho, too.

Neither of us is in any position to defend ourselves. Anyone who offers shelter will be at risk.

“We need to run,” I say.

Tycho looks at me. His eyes are clouded with pain and exhaustion, but hope flares when he hears my words. “Yes.”

I shake my head. “I have nowhere for us to go.”

At the edge of the building, motion flickers in the early-morning mist and shadows. A cloaked body steps around the corner.

I stand. Zo draws her sword.

“Be at ease.” Lia Mara draws back her hood. “I have somewhere for you to go.”