Heir of Hope (Follower of the Word Book 3)

by Morgan L. Busse

  “How? The guard and Regessus were twisted under my hand.”

  Malchus shrugged. “Perhaps that metal glove you placed on her hand doesn’t work.”

  “Or she found a way to take it off.”

  “No, she was still wearing it when I found her.”

  Valin narrowed his eyes. Malchus had yet to explain how he’d found Rowen, why he was out so late, and why he hadn’t seen the prisoners escaping. “Perhaps she wasn’t the one who freed them.”

  Malchus glared at him. “The Mordra patrol Thyra. There is no way a person could come back into the city and free them.”

  “Maybe the shadows aren’t as good as you thought.”

  “Oh, but they are. Unless they are distracted by something powerful. If I hadn’t rescued your Eldaran, she would have been devoured. The bigger question is, how did she free the senator and the guard? You claim she is powerful. Maybe she is. Maybe she is the one who shook us a year ago. So what happens when she turns that power on us? Can we stop her?” Malchus pointed at him. “Perhaps it’s time to be done with her.”

  Valin turned away and looked out the window. If Rowen had indeed been able to access her power despite the glove, then she was even more powerful than he had imagined. If only he could access it, use it. Nothing could stop them with her abilities. Not even the Word Himself.

  He snickered. Not like the Word had stopped them before. Not when he and Malchus killed the other Eldarans. Not when they desecrated His sanctuary up north, or ravaged the villages there. And certainly not when they took over Thyra and convinced the lord of Temanin to fight their wars for them. The Word might claim to love His people, but where was He when they needed Him? Still, it would be nice to have Rowen on their side, just in case . . .

  Valin turned back around. “I say we give Rowen one more chance to join us.”

  Malchus narrowed his eyes. “You know she won’t.”

  “It might take some persuasion. Let her spend some time in Cragsmoor, deep inside the dungeons. Take away all her comfort and freedom. Let her see what life is like without us. Then I will approach her.”

  “And if she still doesn’t turn?”

  “Then we take away her power.”

  Chapter

  27

  The coastline changed the closer they drew to Kerre. An uneasiness settled inside Nierne. Everything looked the same. Sand, surf, the tide moving in and out, the sun rising and setting each day. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

  She looked back, her gaze traveling along the beach where they had ridden for the last two days. Hoof prints dotted the sand and foam lined the beach. Just as it should be, but almost like the color had been sapped from the landscape.

  She shook her head. Maybe she was just imagining things. It was autumn now; life always did appear a bit more weary during that time of year. But still . . .

  She looked back again, searching for anything out of place. A pale sun shone overhead, shedding light across land around them, but it provided no warmth. The sky was a faded blue above the grey ocean. The beach grass grew in hues of brown and grayish green. Even the sand, usually a warm light brown, seemed drab.

  She pulled her cloak close around her body. Moisture hung in the morning air, cool and biting, with a sharp smell of salt. The temperature had dropped each day, the further north they went. That was normal. So why did she feel so uneasy?

  An hour later, Lore stopped and pointed up the coast. “Looks like a village.”

  Caleb stopped beside him. “It does. Nierne, do you know what town that could be?”

  She could barely see the buildings. They were a dull grey and blended in between the land and sky. “Perhaps Deraude, a fishing village on the southern coast of Kerre.” She squinted. “It has to be. I don’t think there is a village or town anywhere along the coast of the Great Desert.” And if it was Deraude, then they had finally reached Kerre.

  “Have you ever been to Deraude before?”

  “No. I rarely left Thyra. But there should be a signpost near the village.”

  Lore tapped his chin, which was now covered in a short beard. “Perhaps we can replenish our supplies there, that is, if nothing . . .”

  A cold wind swept up the back of her neck and she shivered. “Unless the Mordra are here.”

  Caleb remained silent and still, his entire focus on the village ahead.

  “Well, there is only one way to find out. I say we head toward the village.”

  Everything inside her told her to turn and ride away. Her nightmares came back, full force. Moving fog with red eyes. Screams in the wind. People dead along the streets of Thyra.

  Something warm touched her hand.

  Nierne looked over and found Caleb watching her, his hand over hers. She breathed again, but the coil in her gut wouldn’t leave.

  He let go, leaving her hand cold and numb as she clung to the reins.

  Lore watched her as well. “We will stop at the outskirts. If things look bad, we can go around.”

  She nodded.

  “But we do need supplies. Something more than crab and fish and seaweed. And new clothes too. The desert was not kind to my apparel.” Lore smiled, probably to help ease the tension.

  Nierne took a deep breath. “Yes, you’re right.” This time she wasn’t alone. She had Lore, a former captain of the guard. And Caleb, Eldaran guardian and former assassin. And—she looked up into the faded sky—she had the Word.

  Lore started toward the village, his hand on his sword. He might speak confidently, but he was ready for trouble.

  Nierne followed with Caleb beside her, his gaze focused on the village ahead. They went along the beach toward the path that led up through the grass to the village. Nothing moved around them. There were no birds in the sky, no wind. Even the ocean seemed quiet.

  A tree stood alone near the outskirts of the village. It was bare, its naked branches dark against the sky. A warped and weathered signpost stood beside the path. Deraude.

  Lore stopped beneath the tree. “Looks like you were right, Nierne. The village is Deraude.”

  Deraude looked more like a collection of weather-stained buildings than a village. A few fishing nets hung on the outside walls and the grass grew tall beside the buildings. Crooked fences surrounded small herb gardens. A hundred feet away from the last building the beach stretched out and the ocean swept back and forth across the sand.

  Nierne and Caleb came to a stop beside Lore. She pulled her cloak even tighter around her body.

  “The place looks empty.” Caleb’s voice broke the silence.

  She didn’t like the way he said that. But he was right. Since stopping, they hadn’t seen one person. No fishermen. No women hanging clothes to dry. No children. Not even a dog.

  Just like her nightmare.

  “Maybe the people left.” Lore pointed toward the coast. “There are no ships anchored. And this is clearly a fishing village. See the nets and hooks hanging on the houses? Perhaps they escaped before anything happened.”

  Caleb stared at the village. Could he feel something? He’d felt Velyni back in Azar. Could he feel any shadows here now?

  Lore turned and looked back. “What do you think, Caleb?”

  Caleb didn’t move. He didn’t even blink.

  She wanted to tap his arm, make sure he was still here. “Cal—”

  Lore shook his head.

  Nierne closed her mouth and waited. Caleb’s posture was similar to the trance-like state he went into back in Azar, right before leaving to find Velyni.

  Caleb blinked. “We ride into Deraude.” He didn’t wait for them to respond. Instead, he flicked his reins and headed into the village.

  Lore and Nierne exchanged a look, then they followed Caleb. Halfway to the first building, she glanced back at the tree. Something felt off about it, but she couldn’t pl
ace her finger on what. Uneasy, she followed the men into the village.

  Caleb stopped by the first house and sniffed the air. He shook his head. “There is death here. I can feel it. Smell it too.”

  Lore stopped and sniffed as well. “Yes.” His shoulders dropped. “Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps these people didn’t escape after all.”

  Her insides began to twist at the men’s words. “Then should we leave?”

  Caleb looked around at the buildings. “No. I want to know what happened here.”

  Lore glanced around as well. “We can still search for supplies. And if there are any bodies, we should take care of them.”

  Caleb shook his head. “We don’t have time for that.”

  “It is the right thing to do.”

  “We’ll see.” He jumped down from his horse and looped the reins around the fence leaning against the first house. “I’ll take the left side. Lore, you take the right. Nierne”—he looked back at her—“you stay here.”

  She nodded. She had no desire to go searching through the village.

  Lore dismounted and tied his horse alongside Caleb’s. The men separated. Caleb went along the left side of the road and entered the first house. Lore did the same on the right.

  Nierne jumped down but waited beside the horses. The silence pressed down on her. Before, back in the Monastery, she’d liked the silence. It allowed her to hear her own thoughts. But here it was like a heavy blanket on top of her, weighing her down.

  Caleb emerged from the first house minutes later, a determined look on his face. He moved on to the next one.

  Lore came out shortly after. His face was hard, his lips drawn.

  Nierne stepped back until she was next to the horses. The horses seemed to be watching too, their faces toward the village, ears pricked forward.

  The men continued down the row. Her thoughts returned to the tree outside the village. She stepped away from the horses and looked back toward the tree. It looked the same—bare, dark branches. Thick trunk. Tangled roots emerging from the ground.

  She could almost imagine what the tree would look like in the summer. It would be full of lush, green leaves, so many that the ground beneath would be in the shade no matter where the sun was overhead. The perfect place to read.

  She took a couple more steps away from the village. Leaves. There were no leaves beneath the tree. Not one. She continued to walk toward the tree. It looked healthy, as far as she could tell. But then, why no leaves? Even a couple dead ones. This time of year the ground should have been littered with thousands of orange, yellow, and red leaves. Piles high enough to reach around her knees.

  She swallowed, but found no moisture in her mouth. Still, she pressed on. She had to know. This tree, and the village—there was a connection.

  Nierne reached the tree and placed her hand on the trunk. The bark was rough, with deep ridges. Spreading out her hands, the trunk went from elbow to elbow. There were no scorch marks; nothing to indicate the tree had been hit by lightning. And no marring across the trunk, no bulges, no unnatural growths. Perhaps it was diseased on the inside, but she didn’t believe that.

  She stepped back. “So what happened to yo—”

  One of the horses screamed behind her.

  Nierne spun.

  The other horses squealed and pulled at the fence in a mad scramble. The fence broke and all three turned and ran inland, away from the village, the fence stakes bouncing along behind them.

  She froze, except for her heart, which was now drumming against her ribcage. The horses disappeared behind the first hill. Nothing moved inside the village and she couldn’t see Lore or Caleb.

  Oh Word. She shouldn’t have left. She should have stayed where Caleb told her.

  She shivered and realized she was soaked in sweat. Her white tunic clung to her and the underside of her shirt stuck to her armpits.

  The bare tree with no leaves, the horses spooking, the lack of people. It all pointed to one thing.

  The Mordra were here.

  I have to help them. Nierne took a shaky step toward the village. I have to tell Caleb and Lore. Tears stung her eyes and bile filled her throat. I can’t lose them, not like Father Reth!

  She sobbed and pressed a fist to her mouth. She staggered to where the horses had been minutes ago. Broken fence pieces lay strewn across a garden filled with weeds. Caleb and Lore were nowhere to be seen. Hadn’t they heard the horses? Why weren’t they here, investigating?

  Had the shadows gotten them?

  She could hardly think now. Adrenaline filled every pore of her being. She moved to the side of the first house and looked around the corner. She saw Father Reth in her mind, and the cloud of shadows descending upon him, swallowing him—

  “No, NO!” she cried, then gasped and clamped her mouth shut. The village came back into focus. Nothing moved. Run, her body screamed. Save yourself!

  But Caleb . . .

  I won’t leave without him. Or Lore.

  She forced herself to walk to next house. Still nothing. “Caleb? Lore? Where are you?”

  She placed a hand on the siding, her fingers shaking. Where were they? Where—She tried to swallow—where was the shadow?

  Something snapped behind her.

  Nierne twisted around, her heart scrambling up her throat, her stomach clenching hard. The grass by the house waved.

  There was no one there.

  I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going—

  A hand clamped down across her mouth.

  Nierne screamed.

  Another hand snaked around her middle and pulled her up against something solid. Warm air brushed her ear. “Nierne, it’s me.”

  It took a moment for Caleb’s voice to pierce her scrambled mind.

  “It’s me,” he said again.

  Her knees buckled. Colors flashed across her eyes, with a black spot in the middle. Blood rushed from her face. Warm, strong hands turned her around and held her tight. She gripped his tunic and pressed her head into his chest. “Caleb?” Her legs went numb and everything spun around her. “I can’t stand.”

  “I know.” He picked her up and moved her into the shadows between two houses. “You’re in shock right now.”

  She bobbed her head and clung to his shirt, his arms still wrapped around her body. There was no space between them. Somewhere in the haze of her mind, she knew this was highly inappropriate. But she had no energy to move. And the thought drifted away.

  Caleb filled her senses. He was warm, his body heat seeping past her tunic and warming her skin. He was strong, holding her up while her legs refused to work. And he was here, alive.

  He rubbed her back. Slowly her body thawed. He stopped and leaned forward, past her face. His breath tickled her ear. “Nierne, I need to let you go. Do you think you can stand?”

  She tested her legs. They still wobbled, but she could stand. “Yes.”

  Caleb pulled away. The air was cold against her skin where his hands and arms had been moments ago. He kept his gaze on her and held a finger to his lips. Then he looked right, back toward the main road. “There is a shadow here,” he whispered.

  She watched his face. He was in such control. Not a hint of fear anywhere. The terror from earlier tried to come back, but Caleb’s presence kept it at bay.

  He raised his hand. His mark glowed as if he were holding a bright flame in his hand. He moved his hand across his body, pointed his fingers and thumb straight out, then began to move his hand back across his chest.

  Something emerged from his mark. Something bright, and long, and thin, about an inch wide. When his mark reached halfway across his chest, she realized it was a blade.

  Nierne stepped back and bumped into the wall behind her. Her mouth opened and closed, but her words were trapped inside her throat.

  Caleb looked at her, a
frown drawing his brows together. Then he looked down as his hand reached the other side of his body and closed around a hilt.

  Her eyes darted between the blade and Caleb. Was that a sword? A sword just came out of his hand. A sword . . .

  The corner of his lip turned upward in a faint smile.

  He went still and the smile slid from his face. In one motion he lowered the sword, placed his hand next to her face, and leaned in. “Don’t. Move. Understand?”

  She nodded, her mouth dry.

  Every muscle tightened across his body. He looked right, his sword ready. His breath pushed her hair away from her face.

  Word, Nierne breathed. Help me. Help Caleb. Help Lore, wherever he is—

  She saw something move out of the corner of her eye. A grey fog appeared where the corners of the houses converged with the road. Red eyes emerged from the dark cloud.

  Caleb moved before Nierne could scream. He met the creature half way down the alley, his sword ready.

  The shadow hissed and drew back.

  “You don’t belong here.”

  The shadow hissed again, swaying back and forth.

  Nierne crumbled against the side of the house, her legs barely able to support her.

  Caleb stood between her and the shadow. “You will go back from where you came.”

  Red eyes peeked beneath his outstretched arm–and saw her. With a screech, it flew past Caleb straight for her.

  Nierne flattened herself against the house and clutched her throat. It was going to consume her, just like the shadows did to Father Re—

  Light flashed.

  Red eyes paused a foot from her face.

  A blade of light passed through its smoke-like body, and entered her own.

  She looked down and found the blade of light inside her chest. Her mouth dropped. This—This can’t be real.

  The shadow shrieked and twisted around the middle of the blade.

  Nierne stared at her chest. She should be in agony. Writhing in it.