Bring Me Their Hearts(11)

“There are few who fit the age bracket for the Spring Welcoming,” Nightsinger says. “It’s a ceremony in Vetris that welcomes marriage candidates for royal children into the Vetrisian court. The prince has rejected so many potential brides that the humans have grown desperate. It’s the perfect opportunity. And it was decided among the High Witches that you are the most outwardly pleasing of our Heartless.”

Seawhisper chimes in. “If we want the prince as our Heartless, we’ll need to set a very pretty trap. And you’re the perfect bait!”

“P-Pretty,” I sputter. “As in, pretty irritating? Or pretty loudmouthed?”

“Pretty as in… Well, you’ve got a nice face,” Seawhisper says, eyes nearing my chest. “Among…other things.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You chose me because of my—”

“According to our information, he has a type, all right?” Seawhisper throws her hands up. “And you fit it!”

“Listen, I’m flattered, but—”

“Ugh. Spare me your modesty,” Firewalker snarls. “I have little patience for it.”

“Fire,” Seawhisper says sternly. “That’s enough. She’s overwhelmed.”

“I do wish you’d stop making excuses for her,” he insists coldly. “She’s a Heartless. Her duty is to obey, not question.”

“My duty is to Nightsinger.” I straighten my shoulders. “No one else has my loyalty—least of all an irritating slimeball like you.”

Firewalker’s face darkens, but Seawhisper comes between us with a cheery smile. “Then you’ll do it, won’t you?”

“You haven’t explained what I’m doing, except for seducing this prince and taking his heart. We’re talking about the same prince, right?”

“Eighteen-year-old Lucien Drevenis d’Malvane,” Nightsinger’s soft voice cuts in. “Heir to all of Cavanos and the Higher Reach, Archduke of Tollmount-Kilstead. Also known as the Black Eagle of the West.”

“That’s a very impressive list of titles and all, but I still can’t leave these woods—”

Seawhisper shoves something in front of my nose—a delicate gold heart-shaped locket etched with stars and the three moons. Mystified, I take it, and she smiles brilliantly.

“Go on, open it.”

I carefully pry open the locket, only to see a scrap of pink flesh resting within. Beating, in a very familiar rhythm.

“Is this…?”

“A piece of your heart!” Seawhisper chimes. “I made the locket myself. It will let you go much, much farther from your heart than normal. Far enough to get to Vetris, for certain.”

“She fails to mention the magic to make something like this was lost in the War,” Firewalker drones. “And that four other witches died attempting the same spell.”

“Oh, don’t be macabre.” Seawhisper punches his arm lightly. “It’s all for the cause, right? I’m sure it’ll be worth it. That is, if Zera agrees to go.”

“Do you have to turn him into a Heartless? Why can’t you just kidnap him?” I ask.

Firewalker snorts. “Because a Heartless can be told what to do. They can be ordered.”

“Ordered?” I wrinkle my nose. Firewalker’s face lightens, and he looks to Nightsinger.

“Don’t tell me—you’ve never ordered them?” he asks. Nightsinger can’t meet his eyes. Firewalker laughs, for what’s the first and probably last time. He turns his gaze back to me. “Hilarious. But then again, I should’ve expected it. Nightsinger’s always been a soft touch.”

“What do you mean—”

“A witch can give a command to a Heartless with enough magical force behind it to make them obey. That’s why we need the prince Heartless—he’d escape, otherwise, or try to kill us. Maybe send messages to his father. When the prince is Heartless, Nightsinger will command him to be utterly silent, utterly pliable. Won’t she?”

Firewalker looks to Nightsinger, but she won’t look back at him. I had no idea. The books never talked about that. I thought being forced to eat organs was bad, or chasing off intruders in the woods. But this? She has total control over us, even though she’s never used it? She focuses her green eyes on me, a deep sadness in them.

“Will you do it, Zera? Will you take Prince Lucien’s heart?”

She’s asking me, not ordering me. She’s different from Firewalker, from every other witch who apparently commands their Heartless. A pressure settles on my chest, suffocating me. Nightsinger called the humans desperate, but the witches must be equally desperate if they want the prince as their captive this badly. Badly enough to rest all their hopes on an unproven wild card like me? Badly enough to throw any girl his way and hope for the best? I feel like a piece of meat all of a sudden. Nightsinger comes up wordlessly behind me and takes the locket from my hands, circling its chain around my neck and fastening it for me.

“Won’t the Crimson Lady detect this magic necklace?” I ask.

“I told you.” Firewalker bristles. “They can’t detect the tether—”

“Fine, fine. Say I go to Vetris,” I interrupt him. “And what then? I just walk up to the prince and say, ‘Hello, handsome, I do hope you enjoy bodily injury,’ and take his heart?”