“Run away!” Mackie shouted as he followed after them, running crookedly as he tried to keep his balance. Kaia watched, frozen in shock, as the barn collapsed in a towering heap of dust and flying timber behind him. With another yell, Mackie fell to his hands and knees and crawled away from the wreckage.
The darkness thickened, obscuring the boy from sight, and a deafening CRACK forced her to clap her hands to her ears as she fell to her knees on the rolling ground. It sounded like thunder, louder than any she’d ever heard—as if lightning were striking, again and again—paralyzing her heart with fear.
Finally, the booming quieted, the earth stilled, and the sky returned to its beautiful blue canvas. Kaia's chest heaved as if she had sprinted a mile and Gus whined in the sudden quiet. Mackie gasped with panicked sobs in front of the wreckage of the barn. Fiola burst from the house just as Klaus ran around the side of it, the fear plain on his face as he met Kaia’s eyes.
“Is everyone ok?” he yelled, looking towards the barn wreckage.
“I got the animals out, but the barn collapsed,” Mackie called, his voice hitching with emotion.
Fiola crossed the yard and fell to her knees to wrap him in a hug, “Don’t worry, dear, we can rebuild it.”
“What was that?” Kaia asked hoarsely as Klaus offered her a hand up.
Klaus’ eyes ran her up and down as if he didn’t quite believe she was ok. “Nothing good.”
Shad jumped down from the roof, every hair on his body erect.
“What do you think, Shadmundar?” Fiola asked.
The cat sat down slowly on the porch, but his fur still betrayed his anxiety. Fear had enlarged his pupils, so the blue irises were barely visible.
“I'm not sure,” the cat said, hesitant. “But, according to legend, when the necromancer came to the land, even the golden sun grew fearful and hid from his evil, turning the sky dark.” His tailed whipped furiously as he spoke. “I always thought that was an embellishment of the storyteller….”
He trailed off as the sound of cawing birds filled the air.
Kaia looked south to see a vast flock of colorful birds flying toward them, filling the sky as they fled north. The sight of them flooded Kaia with dread.
“I do believe,” the cat said as he watched them, “Nifras has come knocking on our door.”
✽✽✽
They spent the rest of the morning in tense silence. Kaia helped Mackie clear the barn wreckage while Klaus and Fiola poured over Everard’s texts for more information about the magi’s yanai barrier that protected them. Could they afford to detour to Gyatan to meet Ariston, or did they need to run south to defend the border?
Her headache only intensifying with worry and unanswered questions; Kaia completely forgot about Valente’s visit until he arrived on horseback as the afternoon slipped to evening. Firmly pressed lips replaced his usual smile when he dismounted from his stallion.
She looked up in wearied surprise from where she sorted through the debris. “Valente, I didn’t think you’d come after the—”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” he cut in, grabbing her arm and leading her away from the rubble. “Everyone in Summerbanks is panicking. They’re saying that Nifras has returned.”
Kaia sighed. “Not yet.” She coughed into her sleeve. “But perhaps soon.”
Valente stopped suddenly and released her. He turned to stare down at the orange sunset illuminating the colorful roofs of Summerbanks far below them. For a moment, he gathered the silence, and when he finally spoke, Kaia had to lean forward to hear. "No matter how many ages pass my eyes and crowd my memory, I will never forget that sound. The very fabric of our world being torn in two with a monstrous cacophony. The land shook beneath the horse’s hooves; the cliff cracked, and half of the coastal town of Soshala fell into the sea—their screams only adding to the horrific din. The early morning sun snuffed out like a weak candle. The sky turned blacker than the darkest night—a darkness that swallowed all light. The ocean churned with fury, and vast waves crashed upon the sheared village. The villagers grabbed their children and retreated inland, while the Lost materialized behind them like a rolling cloud. Their dark master—Nifras—rose up out of the sea as a massive roiling shadow, his hungry roar of triumph shaking the land. As I watched the horde approach, I remember regretting that I had only seen five lives of men. What a waste of immortality….”
Kaia coughed again, pain stabbing at her sore throat. “That’s Everard’s account of the first battle, from The Heirs' Way.”
Valente met her eyes, gazing intensely as if to see what he might find in their depths. “My father told me the Time Heirs are both dead.”
Kaia’s face flushed, and her fire weakly bubbled within her. “We don’t know that!”
He grabbed her shoulders. “Wake up, Kaia! You can’t do this on your own. You need to combine forces with Ariston to save the land.” He paused, squeezing her shoulders. “Why not fight the dead with the dead?”
Kaia knocked his arms away. “All dark magic stems from Nifras. They’ll turn on us as soon as they hear their master’s call.” She turned away. “He can’t even control them as it is. His dead soldiers roam the land, terrorizing our own people.”
“You are strong, Kaia. If you helped him, you could tame his horde with fire. Like a shepherd herding sheep.”
Kaia barked out a laugh. “Val, they are drawn to my yanaa like ridge wolves to a bleeding lamb.” She shook her head. “But the wolves don’t feed on each other.”
“But—"
“If I am a shepherd,” Kaia raised her voice. “it is a shepherd of death, come to collect her Lost flock.” She turned to walk back to the farm.
Still, his soft words found their mark in the small of her back. “We’ve already lost two of the Heirs. How can you possibly protect us if you can’t protect yourselves?”
Kaia paused mid-step, eyes closed as the words punctured her heart. She took another breath and walked on. “Goodbye Valente.”
She didn’t stop until the front door closed behind her.
She leaned against the solid oak walls of the house, feeling drained and weak. Her head throbbed, her throat felt like she had swallowed rocks, and now even her heart ached with doubt and guilt.
Gus’ tail thumped from his place by the fireplace. His head cocked. What’s wrong, my girl?
Fiola stepped out of the study. “Oh dear, what happened?”
She sagged, the words heavy on her tongue. “Valente and the rest of the town have lost faith in the Heirs.”
Fiola brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “Well, I said he was handsome, not smart.”
“I don’t feel so well, Gran.” She smothered a cough. “I think I’m going to turn in early tonight.
She tutted as she put her worn hand to Kaia’s forehead. “You’re burning up, my dear.” She flew into the kitchen and returned with a glass full of what looked like dirty water. “I’m afraid you’ll have to take a swig,”
Kaia lifted the bottle to her lips and gagged.
“Ugh! That’s terrible stuff.”
“That it is, but it’ll ward off the Barker’s Flu you’ve picked up from the village. One more sip for good measure.” Kaia lifted the glass to her lips with a grimace. “And remember, three times tomorrow and the next day.” She took the glass and shooed Kaia up the stairs with a flick of the wrist. “Now to bed with you child! You need your rest.”
Klaus met her at the top of the stairs just as she opened the door to her bedroom. Gus brushed by her leg as he padded inside while she turned tiredly to face the Shadow Heir.
He ran a hand through his bristly hair. “Firefly, I—”
She held up a hand. “Could we not fight tonight?” She coughed again. “I’m really not feeling up to it.” She stepped into her room.
“Sure, I just—”
But Kaia closed the door before he could finish.
She arranged her aching limbs on the bed but, despite Fiola’s brew, still
could not ignore her burning throat. She was exhausted, yet when her eyelids mercifully shut, she was plagued with nightmares of a giant demon laughing in Mogens’ scratchy voice as he crushed the house with a huge fist.
She awoke to the sound of muffled footsteps. She propped herself on an elbow, but couldn’t quite get her bleary eyes to focus on the shadowy figure at her bedside. She parted her dry lips to ask Klaus what he was doing in her room when a violent hand clamped over her mouth. She struggled sluggishly with heavy limbs as she lifted her hands to defend herself, but when she took in a breath to yell, she inhaled sickly-sweet fumes instead—the distinctive smell of a Cheralder tree—sleeping sap.
Then there was blackness.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Kidnapped
Kaia awoke in a dark carriage, coughing. In the dimness, she could discern three rough-looking men that she didn’t recognize and noted with relief that Gus lay on the floor, unconscious, but seemingly unharmed. They had clad her hands in heavy metal gauntlets and bound her hands behind her. But before she could formulate any thoughts of escape, one of her captors pressed the sweet-smelling cloth to her face once again.
Each time the coughing fit woke her, the aches in her body, throat, and head only multiplied, while her strength drained. Before her captors put her down again, she noted the daylight peeking into the shadowy carriage, but she couldn’t tell how much time had passed. Once, she attempted to conjure a flame from her awkward position, but to her confusion, nothing happened—as if all warmth had seeped out of her. In a moment of clarity, she realized she needed another dose of Fiola’s tonic, maybe even two, but she had no idea how far away they were from the farmhouse now.
Finally, she awoke once again and discovered that she was no longer in the carriage. Instead, she was shocked to find herself in a lush bedroom full of rose-colored silks and feathered pillows. The luxury of the surroundings, however, did nothing to ease her pain. Stabbing aches wracked her body, and her muscles trembled uncontrollably as she tried to piece together what had happened.
Her muzzled ragehound lay beside her on an enormous canopied bed and yipped softly when he saw that she was awake. You smell sick. What can I do?
She raised a hand to free him, only to find it trapped in a bulky metal glove. With a clank, she clawed at it with her other gauntleted hand, but they were somehow locked at the wrist, with a thick chain binding them together. Kaia strained against the iron links weakly, but it gave not the slightest hint of giving way.
She sat still for a moment, calming herself as she drew on her fire. The gauntlet glowed red as it swallowed the yanaa that should have ignited into flames in her palms. She had no dragon fire. A surge of panic triggered another bout of painful hacking. When the coughing finally quieted, she curled her knees up to her chest to still her shivers.
Gus whined. Are we ok?
A silky voice drew Kaia’s eyes to the corner of the room, “How are you feeling, my dear?” Lord Conrad gazed at her intently from an armchair on the far side of the room.
“Where am I?” She meant it as an angry shout, but a hoarse whisper escaped instead.
“You are in my best guest room at my estate.” The aristocrat reached into the pocket of his posh jacket, retrieved a pipe, and calmly lit it. “Welcome to Conrad Manor.”
“Why?” she demanded with a strangled cough, her voice trembling along with the rest of her body.
“It's quite complicated, my dear, and I’m not sure you are in any state to hear it.” His voice dripped with condescension.
Kaia struggled to sit up straighter and desperately tried to bring fire to her palms. Nothing. She’d have to bluff.
“Tell me, now,” she ordered, hoping she sounded dangerous.
Gus echoed her growl with a low rumble, baring his teeth within the metal muzzle.
“Oh dear, please do not upset yourself so. We just want to talk to you.” Conrad exhaled a puff of curling smoke. The mere smell of it wafting through the room sent Kaia into another coughing fit.
When she quieted, the lord continued, “I feel as though I owe it to your mother, after all, I loved her, you know.” He studied his polished pipe thoughtfully. “Our marriage was already arranged when she ran off after your father.”
Kaia’s eyes narrowed, but she remained silent.
Conrad’s voice strained with long-buried emotions. “But, you are such a lovely image yourself—and powerful at that. My son is quite taken with you.”
Lord Conrad paused as he took another puff of his pipe. “Ariston has instructed us to deliver you to him. Which would have been simple enough, don’t you think? I mean, considering how easily my men snatched you from your bed and all. But….” He paused, swirling his pipe dramatically in the air. We decided to give you a choice.”
Kaia frowned, thinking of Shad’s warning. She couldn’t trust this man.
He blew another cloud of gray smoke and studied the ceiling thoughtfully. “Lord Ariston is almost like a king—he controls everything these days. I assume you’ve met his mongrel, Mogens.” He grimaced. “He used to be the best mercenary in the business until your father turned the dragon fire on him. The pain drove him mad after that.” He tapped his fingers on the armchair. “He’s willing to cut down whoever gets in his way. That means us. That means you.”
He rose, pointing a bejeweled finger at her emphatically. “But, my dear Kaia, you are a bright spot. You can transform Ariston’s army of Lost into a tool for good! Use it to destroy Nifras and then destroy Ariston.”
Kaia shook her head. “Transform Ariston’s Lost army? Even I can’t turn water into fire.”
But Conrad was not so easily dissuaded. “Just act the part, Kaia! Although you're young and inexperienced, our family has been well versed in the intrigues of the web of power for generations. We can help you navigate these treacherous waters.”
Conrad turned and paced the room. “With our connections and your gift, we could be a force to be reckoned with. You and Valente might even be able to revive the monarchy.” Conrad took another puff from his pipe, the smoke stinging Kaia’s eyes. “But I digress!” The lord sighed and turned to her, his body rigid with intensity. “Please, if you won’t do it for us—do it for the people you're sworn to protect.”
Kaia kept her eyes trained on him warily but said nothing as she tried to digest the monologue. She examined her shackled hands and the elegant room that surrounded them. Although Lord Conrad had kidnapped her, he spoke with passion about saving Okarria.
I’m no good at this kind of negotiating, she thought, her mind whirling. The Shadow Heir is the cunning one.
She sighed tiredly. She would not play this game. “I will put it simply,” she replied softly, her words coated in steel. “You must be out of your mind. Ariston’s army will only swell Nifras’ ranks. Ariston has to be stopped before the necromancer breaks through the yanai barrier." She narrowed her eyes and set her jaw in what she hoped looked like iron resolution. “For the good of the land and yourself, you will remove these gauntlets and let me leave.”
Lord Conrad settled back down into his deep armchair, taking her outburst in a stride. “I do believe the fever is clouding your mind, my dear. You have no hope of defeating Ariston, much less Nifras, without the Time Heir. After Ariston bests your friends in battle, you will have no choice but to back him against the necromancer for the safety of Okarria.”
“As if I could back anyone who bears responsibility for my father’s murder,” she spat.
“From what I heard, he killed himself,” the noble commented drily. “Even your father doubted your ability to save him. If you cannot protect your father from one man, how can you expect to save your friends from an army?”
Kaia sat for a moment, stunned, as her skewered heart bled out in her chest. She blinked once… twice.
Gus nudged her arm. Breathe, my girl. You are my good person.
She nodded and took a deep breath, trying to keep her emotions from her face. She could not let thi
s man rile her. Her mother had told her once of these kinds of politicians from her youth in the court—manipulation artists, two-faced snakes, and expert practitioners of insincerity.
She squared her shoulders. “It will begin with a wildfire and end with Ariston’s army in ashes.”
“You couldn’t light a candle now, even if you weren’t wearing the dragon claws,” Conrad raised his eyebrows as Kaia lifted the gauntlets once more. “Ah, yes, those mitts were designed for your ancestor, Ulfash—gifted, but completely mad. He couldn’t control his power, so he had one of the magi craft those to muzzle him.” A pompous smile spread across Conrad’s handsome face as he tapped his lower lip with his pipe. "How easily a fire is smothered...." His eyes glittered as they considered her, like a snake eyeing a mouse.
Kaia leaned over to mask another coughing fit.
“Poor girl,” Conrad drawled with a feigned look of sympathy. “I have witnessed the brutality of the Barker’s Flu with my own eyes. Without treatment, I can’t say if there’s much hope for you getting better.”
Her words smoldered. “What are you saying?”
The man puffed smugly on his pipe. “To put it bluntly, my dear, until you help me, I do not feel inclined to help you. In fact, I think your mind might clear faster if you consider your options in the cellar.” He paused as another racking spasm of coughs seized her, and then rang a small bell. “And don’t count on your friends coming for you after you left that heartfelt note explaining you’d decided to seek out Ariston to find the truth for yourself.”
She sagged in disbelief, his words tearing away the little mettle left that held her head high.
Two heavily muscled guards entered the room, and Lord Conrad gestured to her impatiently. They each grabbed an arm and dragged her from the bed and out the door, with Conrad’s mirth trailing after them.
“Think it over carefully, my dear. I do believe you will see reason by morning. Otherwise, you may only have a few mornings left.”
Kaia shook and kicked against the guards, while Gus jumped at them, clawing at their chests with his big paws. The larger guard grabbed a club from his belt and brought it cracking down on the ragehound’s skull. He fell back with a yelp.
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