For once, it wasn’t Devyl Bane.
Remember, sister … you bring me Du’s heart and I will see to it that you’re set free to live out your life independent of the ties that bind you to his fate. I swear it.
While she wasn’t sure she could trust Vine, she knew she could trust in her sister’s hatred of her ex-husband. To get him in her clutches, there was nothing Vine wouldn’t do. And if there was one creature in existence who could undo the spell Mara had cast that united her life to Duel’s …
It was Vine. That was why she’d followed the demons away from the orphanage. Vine had promised Mara through the guise of the douen that she would free her.
For too long, Mara had been bound to him. Had been forced against her will to serve him as his helpmate and guardian. To give her blood and powers for his spells. This ship was a prime example. He’d sold his servitude to Thorn, then forced her to become this vessel to carry the lot of them and watch over his crew like some warden that they cursed her for.
She was done with it. It was time to take back her life.
Even if she had to end his to do it.
It’s the right thing to do and you know it in your heart.
But if that was true, then why did it hurt so much? And why did doubt plague her so?
11
Mara leaned her head against the boards as she allowed herself to merge with the wood and seek comfort there. While it wasn’t the same as being in a mother’s arms, it was the closest sensation she’d known since the day the winds had scattered her parents’ essence to the corners of the world, and allowed them to return to the universe that had birthed them.
Wanting … nay, needing to feel connected again, she touched the locket her mother had given her so long ago and allowed herself to freeze that way as buried memories tore through her.
So easily, she saw herself as a girl on that day in their small nemeton where they’d made their home. Saw her mother as she placed the locket around her neck and placed a tender kiss to her brow. “What is this, Mam?”
“That be your harthfret, precious.”
Scowling, she’d opened her locket to find the glowing and pulsating green kernel inside it. Similar to an acorn, it’d been unlike anything she’d ever seen before. The fire that held the rhythm of a heartbeat mesmerized her as it danced and glistened against her skin. With a child’s enthusiasm, she’d started to bite into it, but her mother had stopped her.
“Careful, Mara! That’s your life source you hold.”
“P-pardon?”
Her mother had laughed and taken the kernel back to return it to its caged nest in her locket. “On the day we’re born, all Deruvians carry a harthfret in their navel that falls free when they lose their umbilical cord. ’Tis said that it was from the first Deruvian and his harthfret that mankind was born to the earth. But because mankind lost their harthfrets, they lost their immortality and higher powers. It’s why they’re so much weaker than we are.”
“But we kept ours?”
“Aye. And so long as we have it, we are virtually immortal. With it, we can call on the powers of the universe and command them. It’s our connection to the higher mother. To all that runs through the vast heavens and all the worlds.”
“Where’s yours?”
Her mother had smiled. “I planted mine here in the nemeton beside your father’s. One day, you’ll meet the man you love and the two of you will plant your hearts together to put down your own roots. But be warned that when you do so, you will be forever bound to that one place. For all time. So never do so lightly, daughter. It’s the same as a binding spell. You might leave, but you’ll never be whole. And if gone too long from your roots, you will wither and die. For no Deruvian can exist without their life source.”
“Then I shall never plant my harthfret.”
Laughing, her mother had tucked her hair behind her ear. “Careful of those convictions, little one. They have an awful way of coming back to haunt us.”
“I’ll be careful, Mam.”
“Good, and whatever you do, never let anyone steal your harthfret.”
“Why?”
“Because that is the essence of who and what we are. It’s the source of our power. Whoever possesses it can command us to do anything they want. They become our owners and we are enslaved to them, especially if they combine it with their blood. Then there is nothing we can do so long as they live. We are forever their slaves. So guard your harthfret as you would your life, for it’s much more sacred. It, my precious, is your freedom.”
Mara cursed herself for the day Duel had captured hers. It’d been her own arrogant stupidity that hadn’t believed him capable of knowing its significance.
In all these centuries, she’d never known how it was that he’d learned the carefully guarded Deruvian secret.
