A Dark Inheritance

by Todd Herzman

She was overthinking it. She’d come to Devien seeking help and someone was offering it. She’d be a fool to refuse. She put out her hand. Reena clutched her forearm; Ella mimicked the movement.

  Ella started walked again. ‘I still need to get to the guardhouse.’

  ‘Of course, you should alert them of what happened to your village. They’ll need aid in rebuilding. But…’ Reena paused. ‘They’re not going to help you find the raiders. The navy won’t help, either.’

  Ella blinked at Reena. How could she be so negative? The guards, the navy… they were there to help people. Why wouldn’t they go after the raiders?

  Reena shrugged, raising a hand when she saw the look on Ella’s face. ‘I’m not saying you can’t try. Just… I’ve been where you are.’ She looked away from Ella. ‘I’ve talked to the navy in this town half a dozen times. More. I’ve spoken to them at every dock town on this coast and others.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’ Ella’s eyes narrowed. ‘Wait, your husband, how long ago was he taken?’

  Reena touched her chest as they walked—the necklace just beneath her shirt. ‘Five years.’

  ‘Five years? Your husband was taken five years ago? And you think he’s still alive?’ The words fell out before she realised how blunt they were—how insensitive. The villagers in her town had spoken the same cutting words to Ella. But she couldn’t help herself. Five years was a long time to keep hope alive.

  Reena smiled sadly. Her pace became slower, barely a stroll. ‘I know he is. Blood mages… they keep their prisoners alive for as long as they can. That’s why I know your brother’s alive, too.’

  ‘Why do they keep their prisoners alive?’ Ella wasn’t sure she wanted the answer.

  ‘They feed off them. Drink their blood. It’s how they get their power. And the more people they can feed off…’

  ‘The more powerful they become? You mean this blood mage is feeding off my brother?’ Horrible images entered Ella’s mind. She tried to push them away. ‘All the more reason to tell the navy! Perhaps I’ll have better luck with them.’

  ‘Your brother is lucky.’

  Ella reeled on Reena. ‘Lucky?’

  ‘To have a sister like you. So determined to save him.’

  Ella’s breath caught, Reena’s words dulling her rage. ‘I’m going to the guardhouse, and I’m finding a navy officer.’

  Reena nodded. ‘I’d be worried if you didn’t try.’ She took something from inside her coat and handed it to Ella.

  A coin, one Ella didn’t recognise. It had writing on it. She couldn’t read it—not that she could read her own empire’s curly script—but it was definitely foreign. She looked at Reena. Really looked at her. She’d never seen someone quite like this woman before. But, then again, she’d never left her village before. ‘What is this?’

  ‘It’s a coin.’ Reena smiled as Ella sighed. ‘From Guhrat, where I’m from. When you’re done trying to find help in this town, come to the docks. Find a ship with three masts and a serpent at its bow. Tell anyone aboard that Reena sent you, and hand them that coin as proof. Then, we can find our lost ones together.’ Reena put a hand on Ella’s shoulder, then walked away without another word.

  ‘Wait—who are you?’

  ‘You’ll find out soon enough.’

  Ella heard a smile in Reena’s voice. She gripped the coin, the metal warm. She noticed some heads turn to watch the woman walk down the lane.

  Chapter 9

  Marius

  It was taking a long time to fix the village. It had been a week. The raiders had burned Billings in one night. Marius thought it unfair that it was easier to wreck things than to fix things.

  Eldridge and his family were still in his house. He’d talked to old Joslin, told her what happened—she’d done nothing about it. She’d held him, hugged him, but she didn’t make Eldridge leave.

  Marius walked around Billings, holding Sir Rabbit. He hadn’t had the courage to let the rabbit go as he’d planned. He would eventually, he knew, but not yet. He’d done his chores for the day. The adults were still at work, but they’d given him and the rest of the kids the afternoon off. He walked past the village square, the timber still in piles, the tavern still a wreck. They didn’t have enough wood to rebuild. A few men had taken axes to the tree line and were lugging lumber into the square. Marius passed the stack of logs they’d brought back so far.

  Marius went to the sea road and walked down the path. He’d done this a lot over the past few days, whenever he had the chance. He was trying to see how far he could get until he turned back. He always wanted to keep going—to find Ella and Ruben—but he was afraid. Afraid they’d been killed. Afraid that if he found them, they would be okay but wouldn’t want to come back. Because if they were okay, wouldn’t they be back by now? Wouldn’t he no longer be alone?

  He still held Sir Rabbit. The rabbit no longer stirred too much in Marius’s arms. He patted its fur, wondering how he ever thought he could make the rabbit into stew. Marius rubbed the back of the rabbit’s neck then stopped, spotting someone down the path.

  A man walked up the sea road, his head under a hood. He wore grey robes with long, billowy sleeves, and had a travel bag slung on his back. The man hadn’t spotted Marius yet. He was a fair distance away, but there was nowhere for Marius to hide—the path had been forged on clear plains, the only trees to hide behind he couldn’t reach in a sprint.

  Marius’s hands shook. The rabbit fidgeted in his grasp.

  He turned and ran. He needed to warn the town. What if this man was the blood mage old Joslin had seen? They could hide in the forest. It was safe in the forest.

  Marius threw glances over his shoulder, hoping he’d imagined the man in the billowy robes. He was still there, walking with his head down. Marius ran over a hill, getting far enough away that he could no longer see the man. But he knew he was there, over the little crest. Marius took a moment to catch his breath. He bent down, one hand holding the rabbit, another on his knee, and sucked in air.

  ‘You okay, boy?’

  Marius froze. A long shadow loomed over him. He turned, slowly, and saw the man in the robes staring down at him. How had he gotten here so fast? Marius had only stopped for a moment—

  ‘B—blood mage.’ Marius straightened up and backed away.

  The robed man frowned. ‘I can assure you, I’m no blood mage. Quite the opposite.’ He took off his hood, revealing a freshly shaved head.

  Joslin said the blood mage had dark hair, Marius thought. This didn’t dull Marius’s desire to run. Blood mage or not, he was a stranger. Growing up in a small town, strangers were hard to trust.

  ‘That’s a nice rabbit you have there.’ The man crossed his arms. His hands went in their opposite sleeves, hiding them away. He didn’t bend down to talk to Marius, like most adults did. He stayed standing tall, a few paces away. ‘What’s his name?’

  ‘Sir Rabbit.’

  The man smiled. ‘As good a name as any.’ He looked down the road. ‘Is that your village over there?’

  Marius nodded.

  ‘I heard you had some trouble a week ago.’ He began walking toward Billings. Marius didn’t move as the man passed him. Then the man stopped, looking back at Marius. ‘Coming?’

  Marius hesitated, then came to walk beside the robed man, keeping a good distance between them so they were on opposite sides of the path. The man was silent as they walked.

  ‘How did you know?’ Marius asked.

  ‘A girl came to Devien. She reported the attack to the guardhouse there.’

  ‘A girl? Ella, my sister! Is she okay?’

  The man looked at him curiously. ‘She was gone from the town by the time I heard of it.’

  ‘Gone? Where did she go?’

  ‘I had assumed she went back to her village.’

  Marius shook his head. ‘She’s not here.’

  The man looked back down the path. ‘Hmm. I found no trouble on the sea road
. It should have been a safe walk for her.’

  She kept going. After Ruben. Marius peered at the man walking beside him. A stranger heading to his village. And the way he’d caught up to him on the path… What if she hadn’t kept going. What if this man had stopped her?

  It had taken Marius half an hour to walk out this far. With how fast this man had caught up to him, there was no way Marius could reach the village first. He couldn’t fight him, either… he was just a kid. But if the man was a threat, wouldn’t he have already hurt Marius?

  Marius stared at the man, hands shaking. ‘Why are you coming to my village?’

  The man unfolded his arms and shrugged. ‘These questions—at their heart—are difficult to answer. Why does a dog bury bones? Why do geese fly south?’

  Marius frowned.

  The man smiled. ‘The dog hides bones to protect his possessions. The geese fly south for better weather. It is in their nature—just as it is in my nature to go where I am needed. Where I can help. The animals came to their nature through heritage, they do as they have always done. I came to my nature through training and reflection.’ He placed a hand on his chest. ‘Through finding my centre.’

  ‘Why would we need your help?’

  The man chuckled. ‘Ah, the young. Always so blunt with their questions. Tact is a learnt skill, is it not?’ He smiled. His smile was wide, genuine and free. Marius didn’t like it. How could anyone smile like that when so many bad things had happened? ‘It is not that you need me there. More that I need to be there. Your village was damaged. No doubt there are injured among your people. I can help rebuild. I can help heal. You may not need me to, but I need me to.’

  Marius stopped asking questions. The robed man’s hands slipped back under his sleeves. They walked in silence the rest of the way. Marius’s fear subsided as he realised that, while this man might be very odd—perhaps slightly crazy—he didn’t seem a threat. And, as far as Marius could tell from the strange man’s answers, he was here to help them, not hurt them. How one more person rebuilding the village could make a difference, especially if they were an extra mouth to feed, Marius wasn’t sure.

  The sun dropped behind the mountains as they arrived. The village was quiet. Most would be in their homes—whatever homes were left standing. Eldridge would be in his. Marius still shivered when he thought of other people living in his home, but there was nothing he could do—talking to Joslin hadn’t helped.

  ‘Is there a leader in your village?’ the robed man asked as they paused in the square.

  ‘Geral, who owned the tavern’—Marius pointed to the wreckage, as it no longer resembled a tavern anymore—‘used to run the town meetings. But he’s gone now—dead.’

  The monk nodded sombrely. ‘What of elders?’

  ‘Joslin is old. We call her old Joslin.’

  The man smiled. ‘I’m sure she appreciates that.’

  ‘Not really.’

  The man chuckled. ‘Would you be able to take me to this Joslin?’

  Marius looked at the man, again wondering if he could be here for the wrong reasons, again dismissing the idea. ‘I was heading to her place anyway. There are… people in mine now. I’ve been staying with her since my sister left.’ He led the way out of the village square toward Joslin’s farm, studying the stranger as the stranger studied the wrecks of the houses they passed.

  ‘You say a blood mage did this?’

  ‘That’s what Joslin says. And the other townsfolk… they say he could do things. Move things without touching them, just from a wave of his hand.’

  ‘Was he alone?’

  ‘No. He had people with him. Raiders. They…’ Marius stared in the direction where the pile of dead bodies had been burned. ‘They did most of the killing.’ He’d overheard much about that night. The adults tended to quiet when they spotted him listening, but they rarely noticed when he was, so he heard more than he likely should have.

  ‘The blood mage probably did not want to exhaust his powers.’ The man looked at the path, eyebrows drawn together.

  Marius peered at him. ‘You know of his powers?’

  The man’s gaze turned to the stars. ‘I know of many things.’

  ‘Do you ever give easy answers?’

  ‘Are the answers in life ever easy to gain?’ A smirk curled his lips.

  ‘You could’ve just said no.’ Marius pointed at a large farmhouse not far from them. ‘That’s old Joslin’s place. There are a few people staying with her.’ Marius looked at his rabbit, almost forgetting he was there. He’d been so still and calm in the crook of Marius’s arm. Marius rubbed behind the rabbit’s ears. ‘I have to put Sir Rabbit in his cage. Perhaps… perhaps you should wait here. If you walk in alone, you may frighten them.’

  ‘Very wise for a boy so young.’

  ‘That’s ‘cause my brother was good at answering questions.’ Marius ran off with Sir Rabbit in his arms.

  The back of the house was dark. Marius worried the rabbit would be lonely out here in the night, but Joslin didn’t want him in the house—she said he stunk up the place. Marius had placed some food—lettuce and other bits he thought the rabbit would like—and some water into the pen, along with an old blanket for the rabbit to cuddle up to. He placed Sir Rabbit inside, relocked the latch, and dashed back to the front of the house.

  When he came around the corner, the robed man’s hands were up in a placating gesture. Two men stood opposite him, one holding a pitchfork and the other holding an axe—Billem, a farmer, and Redic, Taya’s father.

  ‘Stay back, Marius,’ Redic said. ‘We don’t know who this man is.’

  Marius was about to speak. About to say who the man was. He opened his mouth and everything, but no words came out. The man had never told him his name.

  ‘I do not wish you, nor your village, any harm. I am but a traveller.’ The robed man moved his hands to his neck. Redic took a half-step back and held his axe higher. The man splayed his fingers, palms facing out to show he held nothing. He popped his thumbs under his robe’s neckline and took out a chain. ‘Do either of you know what this is?’

  ‘A stolen necklace?’ Redic said.

  Billem lowered his pitchfork. ‘Redic, wait. Take a closer look at the man—the robes, the chain, the shaved head. I’ve seen his like before, in Devien. He’s a Tahali monk.’

  ‘A—A Tahali monk?’ Redic lowered his axe. ‘Oh, thank the stars.’

  Chapter 10

  Ruben

  Ruben woke to darkness again. He spent most of his days sleeping. Ever since that demon had taken his blood he’d felt… nothing. Or close to nothing.

  The ship shook. He could hear rain. Thunder. Each crack—louder now they were on the water, louder than he’d ever heard—made him twitch and writhe.

  He didn’t know how long he’d been in this cell. He didn’t know if when he slept it was for hours or if days slipped away while he dreamt.

  He dreamt of Taya. Mostly. Taya and that mark on her neck. The ride in the back of the wagon. The dull look in her eyes—the same one he was sure he would find coming from his own eyes if he ever saw his reflection again.

  The ship rocked. Ruben’s stomach turned. Something crept up from his belly, into his throat, into his mouth. He crawled to the bucket in the corner but didn’t make it. He retched and stared at the mess on the ground. He couldn’t quite see it in the dim light. The smell should have made him feel something.

  Why couldn’t he feel anything?

  He crawled, hands creeping forward until they found metal. He grabbed the bars and pulled himself up to stand.

  He wanted to feel. He wanted to think.

  There was a flicker. Somewhere inside him. A small flame, a wisp of rage. A remnant of what he’d felt before. Ruben had always been easy to anger. It wasn’t something he was proud of—it was something he’d had to learn to control. That was why he’d fallen in love with the forge. It burned too, almost as hot as his insides, and he c
ould use that rage—channel it, direct it against the metal he pounded with his hammer.

  He tried to rattle the bars, searching for strength somewhere inside, trying to turn that flicker into a spark. His hands barely moved. He tried again, taking a deep breath in, and pushing as hard as his body would let him on the exhale.

  The bars shook. Not as much as the ship—but they shook. Ruben started to feel. Slowly at first—the cold air on his skin. He smelled the bucket, the sick in the corner. He felt the pain in his gut.

  The wound on his neck.

  The fear.

  The rage.

  Ruben shook the bars again. He heard a primal growling, a screeching, coming from inside the brig—coming from him.

  He shook the bars.

  He yelled.

  Screamed.

  And cried.

  ~

  Ruben didn’t know how he came to be on the ground. He smelled something vile. He jumped up, recoiling, realising he’d been resting in his own sick.

  His head throbbed. Like someone had taken a hammer to it again. He felt for a wound but only found vomit. He tried to clean it off but there was nothing to use but his hands.

  Ruben ripped off his shirtsleeve and found the bowl of water at the front of his cell—fortunately he hadn’t knocked it over when he fell. How had he fallen? Last thing he remembered he’d been shaking the bars, screaming—

  He could feel again! The mist in his mind had receded. His head throbbed but he could think.

  He dipped the sleeve into the water and cleaned his face and head as best he could. He touched a hand to the bandage on his neck and winced. The wound from where the demon had taken his blood was still fresh.

  If he could feel again, think again, maybe Taya could too. Maybe one of the others. He found the bars and pushed his head through as far as it could go.

  ‘Taya!’ he whispered. ‘Taya!’ Ruben waited a moment, listening to the silence in the brig, trying to hear something—someone shifting in their cell—but no sound came. He tried to remember who else had been on that wagon with him. He shut his eyes and returned to the wagon in his mind. Joslin’s grandson, Hulm, had been there. Clint and Reeves. He opened his eyes and called their names, ‘Hulm! Clint! Reeves!’