Heritage: Book One of the Gairden Chronicles

by David L. Craddock

  Aidan came to the fire, sitting opposite Daniel. He felt warm again, and that was wonderful. But he also felt deeply sad. For the briefest of instants, he had been back home—not the home he had known these past terrible weeks. The Sunfall from before everything in his life had gone horribly wrong. The Sunfall where he had felt safe, wanted, and loved.

  “How did you do that?” Daniel said. “I thought you were spent.”

  Aidan only shrugged.

  “Well, I guess we don’t have to figure it out this instant, do we?” Daniel said as he flexed his fingers in front of the flames.

  “I guess not,” Aidan said, though he couldn’t help looking at the sword. The Eye’s red glow had vanished, dwarfed by the bonfire.

  How did I do that? Aidan thought to the weapon.

  —You didn’t.

  Care to explain that?

  —Certainly. But not now. You’d better warm yourself and get some sleep. We’ll talk later.

  The blade went silent. Peeling off his gloves, Aidan flexed his hands near the flames. Beside him, Daniel blinked heavily, teetering on his knees.

  “Why don’t you get some sleep?” Aidan suggested.

  Daniel’s eyes shot open before slowly closing again. “I’m not that tired.”

  Aidan’s brow rose. “So you weren’t about to pitch forward into the fire? I didn’t make it to roast you for dinner.”

  Yawning, Daniel nodded and stretched out beside the fire, first wrapping himself in his cloak then tossing the soaked garment aside with a curse. Aidan drew light, whispered a prayer, and wrapped a heat bubble around his friend. Daniel stirred and sighed.

  “So that’s what that feels like,” Daniel said dreamily.

  “Wonderful, isn’t it?”

  “Best spell in the world,” Daniel mumbled. A few moments later, he began to snore.

  Aidan spread out and set Heritage to one side, just within reach. He tucked his head against an outstretched arm and studied the Eye, wondering. Then he drifted off, dreaming of lakes and fishing lines and toy wagons.

  Chapter 15

  The Siblings

  TYRNEN STASHED THE ARTIFACT away and folded his hands on his desk. “Enter.”

  The Sallnerian entered the tower first. Christine was even more beautiful than the day she had entered the Lion’s Den years before—medium height; slanted, hazel-colored eyes; a riding skirt and knee-high boots that showed off long, shapely legs. Her skin was fair, unlike like that of pure-blooded Sallnerians. Her schooling had been sporadic given the girl’s need for independence from her father, but Christine had far surpassed her fellow Touched—all but Aidan—and had earned the honor he was prepared to bestow. She carried herself with confidence, even in the presence of the Eternal Flame of Crotaria. He liked that. A bit of confidence was allowed, so long as it did not give way to arrogance.

  Her brother, Garrett, followed, closing the door behind him. Tyrnen’s smile wavered. That one was not Touched by the Lady’s light, nor did he have his sister’s Sallnerian features. Those came from their mother’s side. This one resembled his father: tall, blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, and blue eyes that glittered as they roamed the tower room, soaking up the treasures Tyrnen had sprinkled around.

  Christine came up to his desk and bowed. “It is an honor, Eternal Flame,” she said, tucking a lock of silky black hair behind her ear as she straightened. She looked at her brother and made a sound of annoyance. Garrett glided over and bowed even deeper than his sister had.

  “An honor, Eternal Flame,” he said.

  Standing, Tyrnen extended his hand to Christine. “You know why you are here,” he said as she kissed the Eternal Band.

  “Because I have achieved Cinder rank,” she said.

  “Correct. It is standard practice for the Eternal Flame to visit the university when a student graduates so he or she may receive the Band in person. But, in this case”—he reached into his robe, withdrew a Cinder Band, slipped it onto her right forefinger—“I felt an exception was in order.”

  She withdrew her hand and bowed again. “Thank you, Eternal Flame.”

  “The honor is mine. I assume you intend to choose the soldier creed?”

  She hesitated. “I don’t know yet, actually.”

  “Take some time to think about it,” he said, smiling warmly. Gesturing to the chairs near his fireplace, he moved out from behind his desk. “Sit, sit. We have much to discuss.” He lowered himself into a seat. “I trust your journey did not take too long.”

  “A handful of shifts,” she replied, shrugging.

  He blinked. “From Sharem?” he asked, unable to keep the surprise from his voice. On Crotaria, there were Touched, and then there were Gairdens born with Ordine’cin. The difference between the two was like a candle next to a roaring inferno. Christine Lorden had held enormous potential since childhood. The fact that she was graduating before twenty years of age testified to her abilities. Even so, if Christine was telling the truth, Tyrnen had vastly underestimated her. Her untapped talent burned like a Gairden funeral pyre.

  “Yes,” she replied.

  “How do you feel?”

  “A bit light-headed,” Christine admitted. “I have never felt the fever, though. I am careful.”

  —Show her, a voice purred in his thoughts.

  Mistress? he sent back, heart hammering.

  —Show her. Now.

  Jealousy swept through him, hot and rancid. She is not that powerful, mistress. Surely—

  Suddenly a wave of affection for his mistress washed over him. Desire to please and obey overrode all thought. Rising, he smiled at his guests.

  “I find myself struck with a sudden urge for a drink,” he said. “Would either of you care for warm cider? I held a jug back from the last Leastonian import of the season.”

  “Cider sounds excellent,” Garrett said. His sister nodded.

  Moving to his desk, Tyrnen conjured a steaming pitcher and three wooden cups. With a wave of his hand he sent them drifting toward his guests. Garrett took the pitcher and poured the drinks, then released his grip on its handle. The pitcher floated in place, ready when needed. Waiting until his guests buried their faces in their cups, Tyrnen tapped on the surface of his desk three times. On the third tap, his hand sank through the desk. He withdrew a golden scepter decorated with gems.

  Returning to his chair, he held the weapon out to Christine. When she looked at it, her eyes glazed over.

  “What is—” the man started to ask. Tyrnen kindled—only a word of prayer to the Lady, but that one word tasted like ashes. The man’s chin drooped to his chest. He began to snore.

  Tyrnen placed the scepter in his lap and watched the woman, waiting. Her cup tumbled from her hand and spilled on the stone floor as she slowly reached forward. Her fingers hovered over the scepter. Abruptly she blinked and sat back.

  —Her will is too great, his mistress said.

  Feeling a surge of triumph, Tyrnen tucked the scepter under his chair and snapped his fingers at the siblings, who looked around sleepily.

  “What...?” Christine began.

  “We were talking about you shifting all the way from Sharem. It appears you do seem rather tired. Not surprising.”

  She frowned. “I suppose I should rest.” She saw her spilled cup on the floor and gasped. “Oh! I’m sorry, I... I don’t even remember...”

  Tyrnen spun another cup out of thin air and handed it to her. “Not at all. Now then, how would you feel about joining the ranks of Torel’s Dawn?”

  The cup froze halfway to her lips. “Truly?” she whispered.

  Tyrnen nodded.

  “I am honored, Eternal Flame,” she said, then hesitated.

  “Your university attendance is not a factor, here,” he said. “Talent is all that matters. Yours is a strength I have not seen since my last pupil.”

  Her eyes widened further. “Aidan Gairden?”

  Tyrnen nodded once.

  “I cannot thank you enough for what you have g
iven me, Eternal Flame,” Christine said a trifle breathlessly. “I will not fail—”

  He raised a finger. “I haven’t given you the position yet. There is one task you must complete.”

  “Name it,” she said.

  Tyrnen suppressed a smile. “The prince has fled Sunfall. It seems the battle at Sharem proved too much for him. In this trying time of war, acts of treason cannot be ignored. I need you to find him.”

  “How am I to find him? He could be anywhere.”

  “I will give you the means to track him.”

  “If you can do that, why must I?” She flushed. “I am sorry, Eternal Flame. It’s just that...” She spread her hands. “If you are able to find him, why ask me?”

  “These are hard times, my dear. The Crown of the North is busy preparing for the next stage of the conflict against Darinia, and she needs me by her side. There is also the matter of preparing the Touched to go to war. I don’t have the time to chase Aidan.”

  She hesitated.

  “The rewards will be great,” he said. He watched her brother lean forward. “Your position will be secured in Torel’s Dawn, and as for monetary compensation... Well. You won’t want for anything ever again, I assure you.”

  Her eyes searched her lap. “I think—”

  “Sister,” Garrett interrupted. “If I may have a word?”

  She glared at him before nodding. “You’ll pardon us for a moment, Eternal Flame?”

  Tyrnen smiled. “Of course.”

  Garrett draped an arm across Christine’s shoulders and led her to the tower door. “We must do this.”

  Her face was tight. “Don’t you realize what will happen to Aidan if we bring him back here?”

  “Prince Aidan, dear sister. And no, I do not, because the old man didn’t say.”

  “An act of treason. Aidan might be executed.”

  “What concern is that of mine?”

  Her gaze was hard. “You’ll do anything for a few coins, won’t you?”

  “Torelian coin, especially.” He laughed at her look of disgust and gripped her shoulders. “He said we will never want for anything. No more traveling the world performing for a meal and a room each night. This is an opportunity I cannot pass up.”

  “You cannot?”

  “I am a bounty hunter, Christine. Work has been slow, but to capture a fugitive prince...” He shrugged. “How can I refuse?”

  “The offer was not made to you.”

  “No, it was not. It was made to you, and your reward includes a place in Torel’s Dawn.” He reached out and tucked a lock of silky hair behind her air. “The Dawn, Christine. It’s what you’ve always dreamed of.”

  “I know. It’s just...”

  Garrett assumed his most sympathetic smile. “You can tell me.”

  “When we saw Aidan, and when he crossed the courtyard, he smiled at me, and I felt...”

  He snorted. “He did not smile at you. He smiled at everyone. He was showing off, just as he has every time you’ve forced us to attend one of his public appearances.” He smirked. “Honestly, I half expected you to throw yourself at him like—”

  Her eyes glittered dangerously. “You are not helping your case.”

  He raised his hands. “I’m sorry. Sister, the Eternal Flame favors you. He could have awarded you a Cinder Band at the Lion’s Den, as he does for every graduating class. But he didn’t. He gave it to you personally.”

  The woman bit her lip.

  “Maybe you could suggest that Tyrnen ask for leniency on the prince’s behalf,” her brother continued.

  “Do you think he would?”

  He shrugged. “Tyrnen trained the prince himself, and I doubt the Crown of the North really wants to execute her own son. Besides, if we don’t find him first, someone else might. At least if we bring him back, he’ll have a chance.”

  “That is true.”

  “Are we in agreement, then?”

  Shrugging, she folded her arms and went back to her seat.

  Watching the siblings converse, Tyrnen’s thoughts turned to Aidan. He hoped the boy was all right. He hoped—

  An inundation of love for his mistress so intoxicating it bordered on fixation passed through him. Tyrnen scowled. Fool boy. He deserves all that befalls him. If he hadn’t run, I could have offered him everything.

  Tyrnen smiled as the siblings resumed their seats. “Is everything settled, then?”

  “It is,” Christine said. “When do I begin?”

  “Immediately.”

  “You said you knew how to track him?”

  Nodding, Tyrnen gestured for her to extend her right hand. He placed a finger on the amethyst in her Cinder Band and kindled.

  She gasped, and turned to look south.

  “I feel him.” She began to stroke the amethyst in her Band.

  “That sense will grow stronger as you draw closer to him,” Tyrnen said. “You should know that the standard rules of shifting apply. You must know his exact location in order to shift to him. Nevertheless, what you feel acts as a compass that will inevitably lead you to him. When that happens, you are to alert me at once.”

  Silence filled the room for a few long minutes. Christine stood. “With your permission, Eternal Flame, we will depart.”

  “You may,” he said, also standing. “There are always tests to pass if one wishes to join the ranks of Torel’s Dawn, my dear. Accomplish this task, and the position is yours.”

  Nodding, she strode to the door. Her brother started after her. Tyrnen caught his arm.

  “Lead me to him,” the old man whispered, staring into Garrett’s eyes. Tyrnen extended a closed fist to the man and turned it so his palm faced the ceiling. He opened it. In his hand were at least two dozen Torelian coins, each bearing the “H” with Heritage sheathed through the center bar. Garrett found himself unable to look away.

  “This is just the beginning of the fortune I will bestow upon you,” Tyrnen said. He handed Garrett the coins. They disappeared into his purse as if sucked up.

  When the Eternal Flame released his arm, Garrett blinked and frowned, momentarily confused. His eyes again focused on Tyrnen, and he smiled.

  “It will be done.”

  After the door closed behind them, Tyrnen retrieved the scepter from beneath his chair and gazed at it adoringly. “Are you pleased, mistress?”

  —For now.

  Chapter 16

  Rabbits on the Run

  AIDAN SAT BOLT UPRIGHT, panting. Vagrants had slashed into dreams of home and chased him awake. As he looked around, his breathing slowed. Other than the crackling of the fire, Daniel’s ripping snores, and satisfying creaks and pops as he arched his back, the cave was quiet, empty. He moved closer to the fire.

  —Oh good, you’re awake.

  He pulled his cloak tighter and screwed his eyes shut.

  —I’m in your head, you know. You can’t ignore me forever.

  Aidan gave a horse-like snort and propped himself on an elbow to face Heritage. The Eye glowed faintly, winking at him.

  “I’m still tired.”

  —Twenty-four hours of sleep should be enough for anyone, don’t you think?

  His mouth snapped shut, stifling another yawn. “I slept for a day?”

  —I suggest we carry on our conversation through thought. We wouldn’t want to wake Daniel.

  Aidan turned to regard his friend. Daniel lay curled up across from him. His chest rose and fell evenly, his breathing disturbed only by an occasional cough.

  —You’re actually quite lucky, Heritage said. Your body was begging for sleep. Any longer and you would have collapsed. Given the weather, that would not have ended well.

  He put a hand to his forehead. He felt warm, and not only from the fire.

  I needed the rest.

  —You pushed yourself near to burnout, Aidan. You should sleep for a week, at least, but you don’t have that much time.

  Things would have been much worse without your help.

  —I didn
’t do anything.

  Of course you did. If you hadn’t led me to Daniel, that storm would have swallowed me whole. Thank you.

  —Oh, that. You’re welcome. It’s one of many ways Heritage can help a sword-bearer.

  Like creating fire without drawing light?

  —Ah, that. I didn’t do that.

  Aidan frowned. Well, I certainly didn’t.

  —Correct. You asked for help, and your family answered.

  Aidan remembered how strongly he had felt his grandfather’s presence. What does that mean? Did my grandfather...?

  —It’s complicated. It has to do with the connection a swordbearer has to his or her predecessors.

  I don’t know much about that, yet, Aidan confessed.

  —No. You would have learned more during the rest of your Rite of Heritage.

  He grunted. Thank you for reminding me. The first to be rejected by Heritage, the first to have the full Ordine gift—I’m setting all sorts of precedents. Speaking of which, are you ready to tell me why I’ve been granted the full gift?

  Heritage offered no response. Aidan rolled his eyes. He hated the sword’s annoying tendency to only answer questions that appealed to it. He drummed his fingers absently along his leg, yawning again.

  —You did exert yourself, didn’t you? Get some more rest. You have a long journey ahead.

  All right. But first, I have one other question, and I’d like you to answer it.

  —We’ll see.

  Will you please explain to me how I became the swordbearer?

  — You know how. You had to accept me. Once you did, the position became yours.

  What I mean is, if I’m the sword-bearer, that would have to mean that my mother isn’t. Swallowing, he thought back to the creature that had worn his mother’s face. You said you offer a connection to previous sword-bearers. What happened to my mother? Where is she?

  The Eye went dark, and Heritage fell silent.

  The heavy silence of the cave awakened Aidan several hours later. He sat up and looked around. He was alone. He scrambled to his feet and crawled through the shaft to the surface. When he emerged outside, he shielded his eyes. The spread of snow was like a mirror that stabbed the Lady’s light in his eyes. Daniel was nowhere in sight.