“No,” Alec argued and turned her around to face him. “No, I don't believe that. I can't believe that. It's you, Ariana. I love you.”
Ariana wanted to believe him, but when she looked to the other Cynewards in the room, they all watched with empathy. Like they had experienced the same confusion before. She wanted to run out of the room, but she knew she had to stand her ground. She had to be strong. She stepped away and shook her head, watching the sting of rejection spread across Alec’s features.
Raemann cleared his throat. “Forgive me, Banair Solanna, but perhaps it might be best if Alec stays with us. We have more experience transitioning to the ways of the Cyneward from different lives. We can help clear his confusion better here.”
Sylvanna nodded. “I'd like to keep a better eye on him. Let's be clear, Alec. I still don't trust you. And now that we have Kellen's daughter as our prisoner,” she said disapprovingly, “I trust you even less.”
“She's not a prisoner,” Varrick began. “She—”
“She is the daughter of the woman that would see these girls dead. Are you forgetting that it was this girl who kidnapped your ward to begin with? How can you think she is not an enemy? What right do you have to decide that?”
“Because I know,” he spat out with attitude in each word before he turned to Solanna and softened significantly. “The girl's name is Sheridan and she has the gift of seeing. If that isn't enough to convince you, go and look into her eyes.”
Solanna turned ghostly white and silence filled the room. She rose from her chair with shaky knees and slowly walked over to him. She stood before the warrior, her light eyes bore into his, a raw vulnerability in the question they held. “Sher—Sheridan?” she stuttered in a strangled voice.
He nodded solemnly as he looked down at her. “If her eyes had been blue, I would have sworn that she was you years ago.”
Her hand clamped down onto his arm to steady herself. “Take me to her. Now,” she begged him.
Ariana watched the exchange in confusion and turned to Alec in question, but he looked just as perplexed. She raced after them without a second thought. She had promised the girl freedom and now one of the Duillaine was rushing toward her. She didn't know what this meant, but she doubted it could be good.
They could hear a loud struggle going on in the room they approached and Solanna automatically burst in. Sheridan looked around wildly, fighting against the galenas holding her. Bianca knelt next to her on the bed, both hands on Sheridan's face.
“What are you doing to her?” Solanna rushed forward but Varrick grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back. “Let me go, Varrick!”
“Out! Everyone out!” Bianca leapt to her feet and ushered them outside. “What are you doing?” she demanded of the Duillaine heatedly. “How dare you interrupt the treatment of a patient! I do not care if she is your enemy or not, she is still under my care—”
“She's my daughter!” Solanna blurted out, still clinging to Varrick for support. “She's my daughter, Bianca. Please.”
“Hold up,” Ariana stepped forward. “Your daughter? As in Sheridan is really your kid, not Kellen's?”
Varrick answered since Solanna was borderline hysterical. “Eighteen years ago, Solanna's daughter was kidnapped from Anscombe. It was assumed that she had been mistaken for you.”
Ariana pulled her head back. “Why would you assume that?”
“Because she was sharing a crib with you at the time,” Varrick answered heavily. “It’s possible the Cahirans took her by mistake, thinking she was you.”
“I'm not entirely certain that she was truly mistaken for Ariana,” Bianca said slowly. Her voice was heavy with regret as she addressed the woman. “Banair Solanna, you pass down your gift of seeing to your firstborn child. Sheridan was your firstborn. By taking her, Kellen insured that your daughter's inherited gifts would be useful to her instead of to you. She raised her as her own so that she would be loyal to her, her mother—”
“I am her mother,” Solanna pressed through gritted teeth.
Sheridan opened the door slowly, eyes wide with fear. “No, you're not. My mother is Kellen.” She turned to Alec. “Tell them. Tell them who my mother is.”
Alec reached for her sympathetically but she pulled away. “I'm sorry, Sher. I think Banair Solanna is right.”
“Banair?” Sheridan repeated with horror. “No . . . no, no, no.” She backed up until she fell onto the bed. She cowered, pulling her legs to her chest and pressing herself against the wall next to her in an attempt to get further away from the woman. “They brought me here to kill me. Don't let them kill me, Alec. Ariana?” she begged. “I promise I won't watch anymore! Just send me back.”
Bianca pushed her way into the room with a murky colored liquid in a cup small enough to fit into the palm of her hand. “Help me hold her down,” she ordered the Cynewards in the room.
Varrick helped Alec get a hold of the girl. Alec pulled her feet away and Varrick tried to gently guide her back onto her pillows. Varrick had one of his large hands pinning her tiny fists against her chest while she kicked and screamed and he used the other to get a hold of her face, holding it steady while Bianca poured the liquid down her throat. She thrashed around as best she could and begged them not to kill her, convinced that the liquid she had just ingested was poison. His hand softened against her face as she began to grow weaker, the effect of the sedative beginning to take hold on her though she tried with all her might to fight it off.
“Shh . . . ” Varrick consoled her, stroking her head. “There's nothing to be afraid of now, Sheridan. You're home. We're going to take good care of you, I promise.”
“Don't let them hurt me,” she begged him as her bleary green eyes tried to focus on his face.
“I won't,” he vowed, moving her hands to rest over her chest in a more comfortable position. He stroked her head one more time, wiping away the tears drifting to her ears as he let out a sigh. He cleared his throat and then rose to his towering height. His steely eyes drifted over everyone else in the room besides Solanna, whose gaze he was steadily avoiding, and he gave them a stiff nod before excusing himself.
Ariana walked over to Sheridan and took her hand. “I promise too, Sheridan. I'll never let anyone hurt you again.” She blew out a breath and looked up at Bianca, who was being approached by another Cyneward.
“Liam,” Bianca greeted, her voice tired. “How is Izzy?”
“She's fine,” Liam answered and set his jaw. “But I need your help. Bianca, I think something is terribly wrong.”
***
Terrena's footsteps were incredibly light on her way to the leigheas. She couldn’t wait to talk to Kenward about the battle and see his pride in all he had taught her over the years. She felt bad for not waiting by his side, but it was too hard seeing him like that. After ensuring her sister was safe and well, she had gone for a walk with Reilly, filling him in on what had happened until Kenward revived. She was incredibly proud of what they had accomplished in saving Ariana. Word had already begun to spread of what the younger generation had done and she knew that this would help to restore the people's faith in Anscombe as their rulers. She realized now that they no longer just abstractly symbolized hope to the people. They were the hope of the people. The thought rejuvenated her more than she could say, and she now looked forward to what the future held for them.
Her airy gait became weighted when she entered the floor of the leigheas. She could see that every Cyneward of Anscombe stood outside of Kenward's door. A sense of foreboding pulled in her chest at the grim faces of the usually stoic warriors. She stopped just short of them all as Bianca, who had been speaking to Liam, stepped forward, her face awash with sympathy.
Terrena didn't need to hear the words. She knew by the look on the blonde woman's usually stern face that Kenward had not revived. That Kenward would not revive ever again. “How?” she asked. She gasped and pressed her lips together to stifle the emotion threatening to burst from her throat.
Terrena's chest rose and fell with her breaths as she tried to keep a hold of herself. “I would like some time alone with him,” she said in a shaky tone, choking on each word.
“Of course,” Bianca said soothingly and stepped out of the way. “I'll just be next door if you need anything.”
“Thank you,” Terrena said.
She stopped when the Cynewards holding vigil outside Kenward's door all moved in unison. Their feet clamped together, their fists snapping against their chests before they dropped to their knee and lowered their heads. Terrena's fingers fluttered over her lips as she wept freely, frozen in her path of mourning as sobs wracked her body.
“We honor the sacrifice of our fallen brother and take unto ourselves his calling,” they all chanted in unison. “His heart is our heart, his duty our duty, his strength to live on through our tribute.”
***
Zelene paced around the large room of the leigheas, still avoiding Rhaya’s gaze. Bianca had ordered them to stay put until she said they were fine to go before she rushed out of the room hours before, and Zelene knew better than to defy the paion. She had to admit that Bianca had earned her respect and her trust with her involvement in their rescue efforts. Zelene still couldn’t believe they had pulled it off.
She knew that most of the credit for that was due to Rhaya, and with a heavy sigh, she joined her on her cot. She plopped down next to Rhaya and bumped her shoulder against her. “Look who turned out to be the biggest badass of us all.”
Rhaya blushed. “Not the biggest badass. That title is still yours until someone does something much cooler than knocking Sylvanna across the room or stabbing Kellen. I'm just the most resourceful.”
Zelene chuckled. “Fair enough.” She turned serious and placed her hand over Rhaya's. “You saved our lives back there. How did you do it?”
“Adelphi gave me the idea during one of our lessons. She mentioned that objects can be imbued with magic to maintain it, like keeping a torch lit,” she explained, her words growing more and more rushed as her excitement over her discovery mounted. “And I thought that the same idea must apply to people too, so I started looking into it. Tate was right when he said the symbol I used was outdated, but that's because it dates back to the Mhathair Mhor—the Great Mother herself used that same symbol. Their rune system has evolved with time and mingling with other cultures, but I didn't think that would make her symbols any less powerful. If anything, using them ourselves might work better since our power originated with her.”
“That's pretty ingenious actually.”
“I don't think I'd recommend it though. It worked but maybe a little too well.”
Zelene let out a snort of disbelief. “Ya think? Not to mention the fact that you sorta died. I think that in and of itself screams 'bad plan'.”
Rhaya wrinkled her nose but ultimately nodded her agreement. “Yeah, I wouldn't recommend that part.” Her face expression turned serious as she stared at her cousin with heavy concern. “You saw me. When I died.”
Zelene sat up a little straighter, but knew she couldn't deny it. “Yes, I did.”
“That's why you've been talking to yourself and acting so weird since Ellowyn died.” Rhaya’s tone held no question since all the pieces were falling into place for her. “You haven't actually been talking to yourself. You've been talking to ghosts. Like Ellowyn.”
“And my mother,” Zelene added quietly. “And . . . Kyle.”
Rhaya flung her arms around Zelene. “Oh, Zelene. I'm so sorry. Why didn't you tell me?”
“I don't know . . . part of me thought I might just be crazy.” Zelene gestured around her. “Sometimes all of this is still too much to take in.”
“I know what you mean.” Rhaya yawned widely and look around the room. “Where did Bianca go? I think I want to go back to my room and sleep for a week.”
“I don’t know. She’s probably going after Terrena for leaving before she said she could.”
Rhaya shook her head. “No, I think Terrena’s next door with Kenward waiting on him to revive.”
Zelene glanced up to see Kenward’s frame fill the doorway. Something about the way he appeared filled her with a deep sense of foreboding. “Rhaya? Do you see Kenward standing right there?”
Rhaya turned to the direction that held Zelene’s focus and then slowly turned back to Zelene with tears in her eyes. “I don’t see anyone. Does that mean . . . ”
Zelene closed her eyes and hung her head. “Yeah. He’s gone.”
“Oh god . . . we’ve got to tell Terrena.”
Zelene’s hand clamped down on Rhaya’s wrist to stop her as she made to get up. “No. Bianca is probably doing that now, and if you say something to her, then she’ll find out what I can do.”
“Of course she will, and then she can talk to him through you. You can give her the chance to say goodbye.”
“And what good will that do her if she knows he's still around for me?” Zelene returned and began to choke up. “It's already so messed up, Rhaya. How much worse do you think she'll feel knowing I can still see him and she can't?”
“I didn't think of it like that,” Rhaya admitted quietly.
Zelene knew the rescue was too good to be true. She knew someone would have to pay for their hair-brained schemes. Someone always did. She had let herself believe everything would be fine and celebrated in their success, rejoicing that they had only come close to losing someone. But Rhaya turned out to be fine, Ariana was home safe, and they were all okay and together at last. She couldn't be more wrong.
“There's always a price,” Zelene said heavily. “I should know that by now.”
EPILOGUE
Just a few more steps, he told himself. Just a few more steps, two words, and he would be saved. He knew now who to ask for, who would know what to do. He stumbled forward, exhaustion threatening to overwhelm him with each step. The guards had noticed him now. He could see that as he squinted into the darkness.
“Oy! Who's there?”
“Get Varrick,” was all he could say. He needed Varrick. Varrick would do what needs to be done. He could trust him.
“What?” the guard asked as he took a few steps closer. His jaw dropped when he got a better look at the young man in front of him.
The young man approaching the gates knew what a sight he must be. His clothes were a tattered and bloodied mess and there were gashes across his arms and neck that looked as if someone had traced the lines of his veins across his skin and painted them red. Even he was scared of his own reflection.
“Great Mother's knickers, what happened to you?” the guard exclaimed.
He gripped the man's shirt urgently and to help keep him upright. “Get. Varrick.” He repeated.
The guard turned to the younger one on duty with him. “Send for a galena! What's your name, son?”
“Kyle Logan.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Mara Valderran is an author of young adult and new adult books, but she's more than just a madwoman with a writing box. She is an avid reader and fan of all things sci-fi and fantasy. She loves roller skating and movies, though typically not together. She hopes to one day meet Daniel Jackson from SG1, or at least the actor who played him. When she’s not writing, you can find her reading, playing video games, or counting down the days until DragonCon.
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
First and foremost, I want to thank YOU, the reader. Thank you so much for joining me on this journey and for caring about my characters. The amount of support and encouragement I have received since I first published Heirs of War is beyond amazing, and I will forever search for the words to convey my appreciation to all who have given it to me so freely.
Secondly, I have to thank my family and friends. Lorin, Jess, Lorri, Tiffany, Nikki, the Smiths, pretty much every Tatum, and so many others that are near and dear to me…you guys are all my heart. Without you, I never would have had the courage to find my “inner Zelene” or keep going. You are there to Gibbs-slap me when I want to quit, and to talk me out of not killing characters because it makes me sad. You’ve been my sounding boards, my number one fans, and my loves. To simply say “thank you” falls so short of everything I want to say.
To my editor Kriscinda, who is a goddess. In ten years, when I’m looking back on my writing path and seeing how much I’ve grown, it is going to be because I had someone like you in my corner. You do more than make me laugh while you destroy armies of exclamation points and overactive eyebrows. You push me to be a better writer and to never stop growing, and I feel like I struck gold in finding you. You’re hired for life!
To my cover artist Gretchen Byers: I’m not gonna lie, most of the views from the book trailer you made are probably from me. You’ve made my dream of seeing my characters depicted a reality. You’ve been so much more than a cover artist. My appreciation for your enthusiasm, your passion, and your amazing talent will never fade. You continue to inspire me, and I can’t thank you enough.
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