A Dark Inheritance

by Todd Herzman

  ‘Well, for those of us who can’t read minds, could you perhaps grace us with your name?’ Lilah crossed her arms.

  The monk glanced over his shoulder with raised eyebrows. ‘Master Flynn.’

  When the monk looked forward again, Lilah mouthed the word master and rolled her eyes. She was frustrated, Marius realised, at all that had happened. This place, her being a seeker, it probably didn’t make her feel as safe as it made him feel.

  Flynn stopped when he reached the cave entrance. ‘The great hall is just through there, straight ahead.’

  Marius stepped into the cave and gazed up at the walls. There were strange rocks protruding from them, rocks that glowed red in the dark.

  ‘What are these?’ Marius reached his hand to touch one but fell short.

  ‘We call them lavan,’ Flynn said. ‘They’re safe to touch, a little warm.’

  Lilah, still standing at the cave entrance, narrowed her eyes at the rocks. ‘They’re not natural, are they?’

  Flynn frowned at the seeker. ‘Natural? That depends on your definition. They’re a special kind of rock that is able to store mana, when imbued with enough, they take on this’—he waved his hands at the illuminated walls—‘lovely glow. It helps us navigate the caves, and they don’t smoke up the place.’

  Flynn walked into the tunnel, straight past Marius. He put his hands behind his back, folding them neatly. Despite the robes and the way he walked, the man didn’t remind Marius much of Peiter. For some reason, he’d expected the other monks to act as Peiter had. It was a silly assumption, now that he thought about it.

  Marius was about to follow Flynn when he realised Lilah hadn’t entered the cave. She stood, gazing at the rocks, transfixed. ‘Lilah?’

  She blinked and looked down at him. ‘I don’t know if this is somewhere I should be.’ She nodded at Flynn’s receding figure. ‘The monks certainly don’t want me here. And if the others of my order knew this is where I was…’ She looked down. ‘I brought you here, got you out of danger. But you’re here now, you’re safe now.’

  Marius walked up to her. He looked past the scar on her cheek and into her brown eyes. ‘I want you here.’ He put out his hand. ‘Please.’

  Lilah stared at his hand, her eyebrows drawn together. She opened her mouth as if to speak, then sighed instead. She nodded, took his hand, and they walked into the cave together.

  The lights were beautiful. If he concentrated, Marius could sense the mana infused within them. The rocks bathed the entire cave in an eerie red glow. Despite its beauty, Marius understood Lilah’s apprehension. The place didn’t feel comfortable, natural. The shade of red was a little too close to that of blood. If Marius hadn’t known monks—pledged to a life of non-violence—were the ones running this place, he would’ve wanted to turn around too.

  Master Flynn was well ahead of them. They could still see him through the straight tunnel, but he was far enough not to overhear them. Though, since the man could read his mind, Marius wondered why he worried about being overhead.

  ‘Do you think they’ll accept me as an apprentice?’ Marius asked.

  ‘They would be fools not to,’ Lilah said.

  Lilah’s hand felt warm. It reminded him of holding his sister’s hand. He didn’t remember holding his mother’s.

  ‘I’m sorry for getting Peiter killed.’

  Lilah stopped. She jerked Marius’s hand, making him face her. ‘You are not responsible for his death, Marius. The blood mage who controlled those thralls was the one who killed him, not you.’

  ‘But it was my fault, I—’

  ‘No!’ Lilah said, almost shouting. ‘No, Marius. It is not your fault.’ She put her hands on his shoulders. ‘You can’t blame yourself for what happened. You can’t put something like that on your shoulders. You did what you did because you wanted to protect him. He fought those thralls because he wanted to save you. It’s not your fault he died, it’s not even his fault. It’s the person who killed him. Do you understand?’

  Marius’s mouth fell open. It was his fault. He knew it. Still, he nodded his head.

  ‘I—I understand,’ he lied.

  ‘You don’t.’ Lilah sighed. ‘But I hope one day you will.’ She let go of his shoulders. Marius thought she wouldn’t take his hand again—he thought she would be mad at him for not understanding—but she took it and held it tight.

  They walked through the tunnel again. Marius kept trying to think of something to say, but he had no more words. At least, none Lilah would want to hear. He focused his attention back on the tunnel. Flynn was out of sight; he must have turned a corner. The cave tunnel stretched farther than Marius had expected. Long moments passed in silence until they came upon a door on their left.

  ‘Is this where we were supposed to go?’ Marius asked.

  The seeker shrugged. ‘He did say it was straight ahead.’ She looked around. ‘I don’t see any other doors around here. How about you go in first?’

  Marius nodded. He grabbed the doorhandle and turned it. It wasn’t locked. Why would it need to be, with that giant gate out there? He pushed on it lightly and it opened with ease.

  The light on the other side was even brighter than that of the tunnel. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust. The hall was huge. Of course it was—the master had called it a great hall. Still, Marius had never stood in something so large. Even the biggest inn he’d visited with Peiter, three stories tall, would fit within this place.

  Luminescent lavan lined the walls in random patterns of red, stretching up to the high, rounded ceiling. Marius squinted. It almost looked as if the glowing rocks were stars. In fact, he realised, they were stars. Or at least, they were positioned as stars would be. The more he looked, the more he recognised the constellations.

  Lilah’s footsteps sounded behind him. ‘They’re stars.’ He glanced at her as she clutched the clasp at her neck.

  Marius’s attention returned to the ceiling. Staring up at that facsimile of the night sky reminded him of nights spent stargazing with Ruben and Ella. ‘It’s amazing.’

  ‘Not everyone realises right away.’ Master Flynn appeared in front of them. Or, perhaps he’d always been there, and Marius had been too distracted by the lights to notice. The monk looked at Lilah. ‘But, of course, a seeker would.’ He turned, motioning to one of the long tables lining the great hall.

  Two bowls of soup, with a large plate of bread between them, were laid out on the table. Marius breathed in the smell, and the beautiful sight was all but forgotten as he rushed to the food. They had been walking without rations the better part of two days. Marius wasn’t sure his stomach had ever felt this empty.

  Marius dumped his pack on the floor and sat in front of one of the bowls, then remembered his manners. Flynn had walked around to sit on the opposite side of the table, and for the first time since Marius had met him, the side of his lips curled into a smile.

  ‘Eat,’ he said. ‘I know how hungry the two of you must be. There will be time to talk when your bellies are full.’

  Marius turned his attention back to the food. He grabbed one of the rolls of bread and dipped it straight into the soup.

  ‘Master Flynn,’ Lilah said from behind Marius. ‘Peiter’s body lies at the bottom of this mountain, we were hoping your people might be able to recover him.’

  The monk’s smile disappeared, his face returning to the blankness it seemed most suited to. He bowed his head. ‘I’ll send people tomorrow morning, assuming we detect no more thralls out there.’ He motioned to her untouched bowl. ‘Now, please. Eat.’

  Lilah sat. She sniffed the soup and stared at the bread.

  ‘It’s not poisoned, seeker.’

  Between bites, Marius watched the seeker glare at the monk before she grabbed a small bread roll.

  Chapter 46

  Ruben

  Ruben was ready to melt the lock on the farmhouse door, but, being from a small village, he remembered what small villages
were like. He tried the handle first. The door was unlocked. He winced at the ungreased hinges’ high-pitched whine. He took a careful step on the floorboards, but they creaked anyway. He was about to gently close the door when he realised… he had the power.

  He slammed the door shut. The bang echoed through the farmhouse, no doubt waking its occupants. Ruben summoned a small fireball over his right palm. The sun edged into the sky outside; the village should be waking soon. No point sneaking about. He walked through the main room, last night’s dishes sat on the countertop, left out to dry. There looked to be enough for two.

  Ruben stopped at the start of the hall. ‘Anyone home?’ he shouted. A thud came from one of the rooms. A moment later, the door swung open. An old man staggered through it, blinking bleary eyes. When he saw Ruben, the fireball in his hand, he froze.

  ‘What in Renial’s name?’

  Ruben raised the hand holding the flame. ‘I don’t want to hurt you. I just want information.’

  The old man backed up a step. He lowered a knee to the ground, then another, wincing as he did so until he was kneeling. He put his hands together and craned his neck to stare at the ceiling. Then he closed his eyes.

  Ruben tilted his head. ‘What are you doing?’ He made the fire flare, but the man couldn’t see it with his eyes closed.

  The farmer whispered something. Ruben got closer, straining to hear it. It was a chant, repeated, over and over.

  ‘O, holy God King, please take my life and guide my journey. O, holy God King, please take my life and guide my journey.’

  Ruben kicked the man’s leg. ‘Get up,’ he said. But the man kept chanting. Ruben looked past him, through the door and to the bed inside the room. A woman, about the same age as the farmer, hadn’t even left the bed. She had her hands clasped together like the man, chanting the same thing.

  He hadn’t wanted to torture anyone. He’d hoped he’d be able to threaten the whereabouts of Malarin from someone, but these people wouldn’t even look at him. He turned back to the man, grabbed him by his shirt collar and shook him. ‘Listen to me, old man, or I’ll set your damn farm on fire.’

  The man’s eyes snapped open. They flashed red, just for a second, then went back to the normal brown of the farmer’s eyes. Ruben stumbled back.

  ‘There you are,’ the man said. But it wasn’t the farmer’s voice—it was his voice. Renial’s voice. And it came from more than one place. The farmer stood on shaky legs, his wife got out of the bed and joined him. ‘I’ve been looking for you,’ they said in unison.

  Ruben took more steps back. ‘What is this? How—how are you here?’

  The couple moved forward. ‘I am connected to all my citizens, and all my citizens are connected to me. They want my protection. Why are you trying to run from it?’

  Ruben turned and fled back through the main room and out the door. He slammed it behind him, summoned his fire, and melted the doorhandle hoping it would stop them from following.

  He turned and looked out at the rest of the village. He narrowed his eyes, squinting at the faraway houses. His eyes widened when he saw the people. What looked like the entire village was gathering, heading to him. He stared at them. He should run, but he just stood there, staring. Banging sounded from the door behind him.

  ‘Ruben,’ a voice said from the other side. ‘You can’t hide from me, Ruben. Not here. Not anywhere.’

  Ruben looked at the door, then back at the mob gathering from the village. The tree line was a good sprint away—they’d reach him before he made it. He summoned two large fire balls, one in each hand. ‘Do you want me to burn the place down?’ he shouted. ‘If you want to protect these people, you’ll stop controlling them and let me leave.’

  The banging stopped. The townsfolk walking toward him froze mid-step. ‘There’s no need for more violence, Ruben.’

  Barking came from the forest. The dogs. Ruben swore under his breath.

  ‘No one else has to die. I forgive you for killing those guards. I understand why you did what you did.’

  Ruben enlarged the flames in his hands, breathing fast and sharp. He could still escape. He could set the entire village on fire. A memory flashed inside his mind. The fires from his own village, back in Billings. The tavern burning. Malarin pulling Taya by her hair.

  ‘I want her back, Renial. I want Taya back! Bring her back to me, or I swear on my mother—your daughter—that I’ll burn this place down!’ Ruben raised his hand. The flames licked the door, coming dangerously close to setting it alight. ‘And I won’t stop at this village.’

  ‘Taya?’ the voice, Renial, said. ‘That girl Malarin took? That is all you want?’

  I want to escape. I want to see Malarin burn and take Taya out of this place, he thought, but didn’t say. ‘Yes. That’s… that’s what I want.’

  ‘All you had to do was ask.’ The voice didn’t come from behind the door, it came from behind him. Ruben spun around.

  Renial stood there, his bloodred ring reflecting Ruben’s flames, adorned in his black cloak. The God King, his grandfather, looking barely a few years older than Ruben. He’d appeared from nowhere. Had he been pursuing him through the night, through the forest?

  ‘I would do anything for my family.’ Renial stepped closer. ‘Right now, I know you do not understand that.’ He put a hand on Ruben’s shoulder. Ruben wanted to flinch back, wanted to run, but staring into those red eyes he found he couldn’t even move. ‘But, one day, you will understand.’ Renial turned his gaze to the sky. ‘The meteorite is on its way.’

  The God King sighed, taking a few steps away from Ruben, his hands folded behind his back. ‘I wish I could just’—he snapped his fingers—‘make you believe in what I’m doing.’ He waved at the people in the village, still frozen where they had stopped moments ago. ‘These people, they believe in me. They trust me, welcome me into their minds.’ He bowed his head. ‘They did not always. I had to earn that belief.’ He stared back at Ruben, his red eyes flashing. ‘I will earn it with you. I have sent for the girl, Taya. She will be in the castle by tomorrow. I hope you will be there too.’

  The God King walked away from Ruben, headings toward the tree line. Then he shifted, parts of him became translucent. His body began to disappear, his image washing away with the wind.

  An illusion? Ruben thought. Like Alyssa’s? But I felt his hand on my shoulder…

  Ruben looked to the tree line. The guards who had pursued him from the castle, dogs sitting patiently beside them, seemed to be waiting for him. They must have caught up while Renial talked. Taya will be in the castle, Ruben thought. He walked to the guards and let them take him back to the other side of the island.

  He still wanted to escape this place… but at least he would be with Taya, now. They would be safe inside the castle. She would understand that they would have to stay a little while before they could escape together. She would understand what he’d done.

  She would understand.

  ~

  His room in the castle felt different after running from it all night. He collapsed on the bed, his legs tired, his entire body sore. He sank into the blankets. He’d run from this place. Killed to get out of here. And the next day, he was already back.

  A servant entered, placed a plate of food on the table, then swiftly left. It wasn’t Alyssa. That, he was grateful for. He wasn’t sure if he could face her, not after what he’d done. And… if Taya was going to be here soon, maybe not seeing Alyssa was the best thing he could do.

  Despite his tiredness, he forced himself off the bed. He sat at the table and stared at the food. His stomach rumbled. It had been more than a day since he’d eaten. He’d gone longer, sitting in that cell on Malarin’s ship, but since being kept in the castle he’d become accustomed to eating three meals a day again. He dug into the meal. It was a simple one, chicken, potatoes. But the smell was enticing.

  Someone knocked on the door. Ruben swallowed a bite and glanced up, waiting for it
to open. When it didn’t, he sighed, stood, and opened it himself. He expected the latch to be locked on the other side, but the door opened easily.

  A woman stood in the hall, her eyes downcast, beside two castle guards. Her black hair was short. She had dark bags around her eyes and hollowed cheeks. It took a moment for Ruben to realise who it was.

  ‘Taya!’ Ruben burst forth to hug her. She flinched at the sudden movement, and he stopped short. He tried not to let her reaction hurt him—he had no idea what she’d been through. He glared up at the two guards who had brought her. They looked back with steely hostility, though he hadn’t met them before. Word had no doubt spread to every guard in the castle that he’d killed a few of their own.

  Ruben ushered Taya into his room. She hadn’t so much as glanced up at him yet, but she let him guide her through the doorway. Ruben wanted to slam the door behind him, straight into the face of the guards. What had Malarin done to her? He closed the door quietly instead, not wanting to frighten Taya.

  ‘Come. Sit on the bed.’ She did as she was told, arms tightly at her side, she mutely walked to the bed. He was surprised, considering her condition, to see that she was freshly bathed, wearing clean clothes. Renial must have seen to that. As if it made up for having been a slave for weeks and months, unable to even control her own thoughts.

  He flashed back to being on the ship, to that nothing feeling he’d felt after Malarin had taken his blood, and then later, that willingness to serve when he’d given in, strengthening Malarin’s bloodlock. Taya’s bloodlock had never been broken. From the beginning, she hadn’t been able to fight it. He couldn’t imagine what she’d been through, what she felt right now, how fragile her mind might be.

  Ruben sat beside her on the bed. He wanted to touch her, hold her close and tell her everything was going to be all right. But the way she’d flinched away from him… he didn’t want to scare her, didn’t want her to feel as if she had no control over her personal space. His eyes were drawn to her neck, to the scar there. It had healed since the ship, but it was still there. He touched his own scar, felt the line.