Heart [ON HOLD]

Chapter 14: Cries From the Dust

"O Lord, how long shall I cry, and thou wilt not hear! even cry out unto thee of violence, and thou wilt not save!"

Habakkuk 1:2

He's an idiot.

That was her first thought when she saw him baiting the manticore.

He's committing suicide to get away.

That was her second. But when she saw the dwarf run out, followed by Cora-

Genius.

Her nails dug into the mirror's handle as she watched the manticore leap from the trees.

"Kill her, kill her, kill her," she hissed.

But suddenly image in the mirror burst into flame. The manticore exploded, and the Queen dropped the mirror in surprise.

"What-,"

And then she saw him.

The blood boiled in her veins. There was a buzzing in her head that drowned out his cursing. Everything was coming in through a haze of red.

Valkryn.

She stood up so fast that the vanity stool flew backward. Two strides to the door, and she had yanked the sword off the wall. With a scream, she swung it. The metal bit through the flesh of the bed post, cleaving it in two. Her heart leaped against her chest, drumming as fast as a humming bird's wings. Lilith gasped and sank to her knees, and the sword clattered to the floor. She gaped, clutching at her chest. It was as though it beat against a blade. Every time it throbbed, pain stabbed through it. Her vision was getting blurry around the edges, and a red film colored everything. She shuddered and pressed her forehead to the bedpost, squeezing her eyes shut and waiting for the pain to pass.

But it wouldn't leave. Her blood was too thick and her stomach turned like a heart on a spit. She groaned and gasped, clenching the bed frame in one hand. Another stab to her heart and the wood splintered beneath her fingers - the accumulated strength of a hundred of hearts. Sweat dripped from her forehead and she clenched her teeth. This was not supposed to happen. It was all wrong.

She hauled herself to her feet and staggered to the vanity, managing to grab the hand mirror as she sagged back to the ground. She held the mirror at arm's length from her chest.

"Show it to me," she rasped.

An image shimmered to life in the mirror. A heart. A heart that was whole and perfect. A mottled ruby that beat slow and steady.

She breathed a sigh of relief and touched her fingertips to her chest. It was fine. Nothing wrong. Another heart would help. Another heart, that was what she needed. But the biggest stab yet came, and she let lose a banshee scream. The mirror slipped from her fingers and clattered against the floorboards. From the hallway she could hear footsteps running her direction and then frantic knocking.

"Your Majesty?"

The Queen scrambled on the ground, searching. Her fingers closed around the handle.

"Come in," she said.

The door swung open.

"My Queen, are you-,"

"Close the door and help me up, girl," she rasped.

"Yes, of course, Your Majesty."

She heard the door click shut, the thud of feet, and felt hands on her arms that heaved her to her feet. The Queen stood on trembling legs, grasping the bedpost with one hand for support. The maid dropped her hands.