The Legacy: A Custodes Noctis Book

by Muffy Morrigan

  “It shattered? The block broke? I wonder…” Rob railed off. “I think I knew you were there. It was strange, I woke up a little at one point and I felt your hand, I thought I was dead since you were there.”

  “I’m sorry.” Galen said again. I wonder how many times I’ll say that until he believes it?

  “Galen? You’ve said that twice.”

  “What? I’m sorry? I’ll probably say it again, too,” Galen said almost to himself.

  “You said ‘when I was better’ twice. How long?” Rob’s jaw was clenched as he drove, his hands tight on the wheel.

  “How long?” Galen frowned.

  “Galen, tell me.” Rob glanced over at him. “How long until you were better? How long after…”

  Galen took a deep breath. “Months.” He saw Rob’s shoulders sag. “I don’t remember much, not at least from the beginning, after you went home. I was in the hospital there, then home I think. Dad healed me as best he could, but even with his help, it was a long time. When I was a little stronger, I could help.”

  “Months?” Rob sighed. “We need to talk about this.” He said it so quietly Galen wasn’t sure he was meant to hear it.

  “Rob?” Galen was watching his brother, Rob was pale, the fading bruise on the side of his face dark against his skin. Rob shook his head. Galen sighed. “Coming back from the dead might be harder than I thought,” he muttered. Rob looked over at him for a moment, then looked away with a frown.

  Rob pulled the car up behind the building and walked around to help Galen out, letting him steady himself before opening the door to the apartment. Rob walked up the steps behind him, hovering a little. The scar suddenly gave a particularly violent twist. Galen stopped, he felt his brother’s hand on his back, supporting him. After several deep breaths he managed to get all the way to the couch before the scar twisted again.

  “What can I do?” Rob asked quietly.

  “In the cupboard, there’s a red bottle, can you get it?” Rob walked across the room and opened several cupboard doors before he found the right one. Rob opened the bottle and handed it to him. “Thanks,” Galen said, taking a sip from the bottle. He leaned back, giving the medicine a chance to work.

  “What is that?”

  “Herbs and a bit of magic. It stops…”

  “Stops what?” Rob looked at him, a slightly unfocused look in his eyes. “You have a spot. Where the old wound was.” His hand hovered over the scar. “It’s alive, moving, twisting.”

  “Alive?” Galen snorted. “That’s exactly how I think of it. Twisting.”

  The downstairs door banged open, then slammed closed. Rob walked to the head of the stairs and looked down. “It’s Mike.” He came back over and sank down beside Galen on the couch.

  Mike huffed into the apartment. “You need an elevator.”

  “You need to get into shape,” Galen said, laughing.

  Mike muttered something and walked into the kitchen, punching the button on the coffee machine before dropping into the chair across from the couch. “Don’t mind me. I’m just here to make sure my patient is okay, I’ll nap.” He leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. A minute later he was snoring.

  “Is he really asleep?” Rob asked with a grin.

  “Yes. He does that, he prides himself in being able to sleep anywhere, anytime.”

  “That might be a handy skill.” Rob laughed. “Although I can sleep through any philosophy seminar, anytime, anywhere.”

  Galen chuckled. “I think I can, too.” He pushed himself off the couch, waiting as the room stopped spinning. Rob stood up beside him and followed as he walked back to the bedroom. His brother caught sight of the knife on the bed stand and walked over, picking it up carefully. Rob looked over at Galen.

  “Brother to brother,” he said softly, a gentle smile on his face. “You still have it.”

  “Of course I do. I have a box with everything you ever gave me, including the rather large collection of rocks from that trip to the ocean when you were eight.” Galen opened the closet. He was aware that Rob had come to stand beside him.

  “Quite a collection,” Rob said with a little laugh as he looked in the closet. “A bit of everything. What’s that water gun for?”

  “It handy for delivering herbs and things like that.”

  “Looks good, too, probably scares things away without even having to shoot.” Rob laughed, then looked at him. “I have a little collection myself, not much, but a few things. This is nice.” He ran his hand over the falcata.

  “It’s my favorite, actually.” Galen took a deep breath. “Rob…” His brother met his eyes and then looked at the two swords at the front of the closet.

  “Are those…?” Rob asked softly.

  “Yes,” Galen said reverently. “The swords of the Emrys line of Custodes Noctis, forged thousands of years ago, passed down through the generations.”

  “Hand to hand,” Rob whispered. He reached, unerringly, for the sword destined for him, his hand running down the scabbard, slowing as it passed over small dings and flaws in the leather. Galen rested his hand on the sword that would be his, the soft hum buzzing against his hand. He watched as Rob picked his sword up and slowly pulled the blade from the scabbard.

  “It hums.” Rob’s voice was still a whisper. He ran a finger down the blade, passing slowly over the engraving there, Ogham, Runes, Latin, words recorded over the millennia, spells binding power to the swords, spells binding the blades to the family. Rob slid the blade back into the scabbard and set it carefully down beside the other. He looked up at Galen for a minute, a frown on his face, then looked down at the sword resting under Galen’s hand. He gently moved Galen’s hand aside and picked up the sword.

  Galen’s heart started pounding. “Rob?”

  His brother smiled. “I understand, Galen. I know. I’ve done my homework, you know.”

  “Once it’s done…Rob, think about this for a minute. If you do this…you’ve sealed your fate—our fate.”

  “No going back, but there never really was, Galen,” he said gently.

  Rob pulled the sword out of the scabbard and set the scabbard back in the closet. He let the blade rest in his palms. He met Galen’s eyes and swallowed. Galen saw a flash of uncertainty for a moment. Rob took a deep breath. With another look at Galen he began the Ritual of Swords, the Latin falling easily from his tongue. He held the sword towards Galen.

  Galen’s hands were shaking as he reached for the other sword. He pulled it from its scabbard, letting the blade rest on his palms. He looked back up at his brother. The uncertainty was gone from Rob’s eyes, replaced by a fierce determination. Galen carefully recited his part, his heart slamming against his chest as he finished and waited for Rob to complete the ritual.

  “Hand to hand,” Rob said, reaching out and closing his right hand over the hilt of his sword. “Brother to brother.”

  “Hand to hand,” Galen repeated, closing his hand around the hilt of his own sword lying perfectly balanced on Rob’s palm. “Brother to brother.” As the final syllable fell from his tongue, a jolt of energy, a bolt of white light, ran up the sword, up his arm and exploded in his body. The hum of the blade became a song, filling him completely, the note resonating through his body, filling him with light made music.

  “You know,” his brother said lazily sometime later, a slightly ironic tone in his voice.

  Galen opened his eyes and rolled his head around from where he was lying to look at Rob, on the floor beside him. “What’s that?”

  “If they’d mentioned that particular effect, I would’ve made sure I was sitting down.” Rob chuckled, a light, happy sound.

  “Would’ve been nice to know,” Galen answered. “We’ll have to mention that to Dad and Uncle Bobby next Day of the Dead.”

  “We will. It’s still singing.”

  “Mine too,” Galen said, aware of the soft hum of the sword in his hand. The tone had changed. “It knows me now, not as a member of the line, but as the Keeper wh
o wields it.” The power of the blade no longer buzzed against his hand, but flowed easily into his body.

  “Yeah, mine knows me, too. I never realized, Galen.” He chuckled, then was quiet. They were silent for several minutes. Then Rob sighed. “Galen?”

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s coming for us again.”

  “I think so.”

  “We need to talk about what happened.”

  “No,” Galen said softly.

  “There might be something there, something that’ll help.”

  “Might not.”

  “Do you get far lying to yourself like that?” Rob’s voice had laughter in it, but a serious concern underneath.

  “Depends on what I’m lying about.”

  “Seriously, Galen, we have to talk about what happened, to you and me.”

  “I’m not sure that will help.”

  “It’s the only way to know, to be sure,” Rob insisted.

  “Sure of what?” Galen asked, dreading his brother’s answer.

  “If this is the Legacy.”

  “It can’t be.”

  “Do you think just by saying it isn’t you can make it vanish?”

  “Maybe. It’s not the Legacy.”

  “How will we know for sure? We have to talk about this, we have to.” Rob paused. “What did you say about pictures?”

  “Pictures?” Galen asked looking at Rob, still trying to bring his focus back a little.

  “Of Rhiannon’s daughter?”

  “She had pictures of the crime scene.”

  “So you saw the sacrifice?” Rob frowned.

  “I saw the pictures of one sacrifice, yeah.”

  “Galen.” Rob sighed.

  Galen reached out and put his hand on his brother’s arm. A brief flash of pain was there, the impression of old wounds, long healed scars. He let a little of the light flow down his hand. “You’re right, we need to talk, Rob.”

  His brother patted his hand. “Thanks.”

  Past

  Ten years Before

  Day Three-Rob

  Rob had a headache. I wonder if this is what a hangover feels like? If it is, I’m never ever drinking. Where am I? Memory flooded back. The hole, the sound of the rocks dropping on the board above his head. He opened his eyes. Rob was back in the room in the farmhouse, still wearing the purple pants and white shirt. His arm hurt where they’d cut it. There really is a cut there, I didn’t dream it. He tried to sit up and fell back down. His bones felt like jelly. He saw the brazier full of incense sitting in the corner of the room. I wonder what’s in there? Whatever it is, it’s making me feel weird. It’s messing up the Sight. I can’t see straight, I can’t sense Galen.

  He rolled over, from his back onto his side. I thought I heard Galen. I thought he was there for a minute. It sounded so much like him. If he’d been there, I don’t know, I think…Just knowing he’d been around would help. I wish he were here. If only I knew…He started to cry. He curled up, hugging himself. If Galen were here…He tried to stop, but the tears kept coming. He was sleepy, the incense taking away consciousness. Rob could hear his heart beating, he listened to it, trying to calm himself the way his brother had shown him. Then, just as he was almost asleep… “Rob? I’m here, I’m looking for you. Sleep. It’ll help. I’m here, Brat. I’m coming for you.” His brother’s voice played in his head, it calmed him, he let himself drift off to sleep.

  The sound of the key in the lock woke him. The pretty young waitress with the black spots, Ashley, came into the room with a tray. “Time to eat, Chosen.”

  “That’s not my name.”

  “It is now. You have no other name, you have no past, no future. There is only today. Today is all. Today is ritual.”

  “You’re all weird.”

  “You need to eat this.” She put the tray in front of Rob.

  “Not hungry.”

  “Ah, come on sweetie. It’s pretty good.”

  “Nope.”

  “Okay.” She smiled, but her voice was hard. “You eat it or I force it down, how’s that?”

  “Yeah, sure you could.”

  “There’s help right outside the door. Are you going to eat, or do I call them?”

  “I’ll eat it.” He tried to sit up. He still couldn’t. His hands weren’t working quite right either. He tried again. It didn’t work.

  “Not funny. Just because you’re Chosen doesn’t mean you can get away with that.”

  “I can’t, I’m trying, but I can’t,” he said, afraid. She had the same scary look in her eyes the bearded man had the night before.

  “Fine.” She raised her voice. “I need help in here.” The door opened and two of the three guys Rob remembered attacking him and Galen came into the room. One of them had a large bruise on his face, and his nose was taped up.

  Rob smiled. “My brother do that?” he said.

  “Right before my brother knifed him,” the guy said with satisfaction in his voice. “We left him on the road, he was in bad shape. Might’ve driven over him on the way out. Never know.”

  “Shut up. Galen’ll be here, he’ll come for me.”

  “Not if he’s dead, kid.” The big guy yanked him up and held him. The other one just lounged against the door, knowing Rob was no match for the man who held him. Ashley started spooning the food into his mouth. Rob tried to spit it out, she slapped him across the face. In the end they managed to get about half the bowl of food into him. The big guy dropped him back down on the floor.

  “Don’t get too comfortable, we’ll be back, kid.” The two men left and Ashley smiled at him, it was a terrifying smile, “Oh, yeah, we’ll be back.”

  Rob lay on the floor. His face hurt, his arm hurt and his stomach hurt. Whatever was in the food was not sitting well. He felt sick, he wanted to throw up. Rob wondered if he should, Galen had taught him to rid his system of poison as fast as he could, but maybe that was what they wanted him to do. He wasn’t sure. Hearing his brother had calmed him, he hoped it was actually Galen, and not a trick of the incense. He was still unsure if his brother was alive. He was feeling sleepy again. The incense, it’s making me sleepy, blocking the Sight. I wonder if that’s why I can’t sense Galen. He’d tell me to sleep if I needed too, a Keeper has to be strong. He drifted off.

  He had no idea how long he slept. It was dark in the room except for the glow of the brazier and the light coming under the door. When he woke up, his stomach still hurt, so did his arm and his head.

  “Hey,” he said, hoping there was someone outside the door. “Hey, I have to go to the bathroom.”

  The door opened. A man came in and looked at him. “Get up if you need to go.”

  Rob pushed himself up. The room was spinning. He tried to stand—his legs wouldn’t hold his weight. The man came over, grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet. He manhandled Rob out of the room and into the bathroom. “Don’t spend too long or try anything funny.” He closed the door. Rob heard his weight settle against it. Can’t try to escape that way, I guess.

  After he’d finished, he quietly closed the toilet lid and sat down, carefully easing drawers open, hoping to find something—anything—that might be of use. Mostly there were just bits and pieces of garbage. The final drawer yielded a treasure—a large safety pin. Rob pinned it in the waistband of his pants. He didn’t know what he could do with it, but he was sure Galen would want him to find something that might help in the long run. “We’re Keepers, Rob, never forget that, no matter what happens. We’re Keepers and we use what we have, anything can help.” He smiled as he remembered the oft repeated lesson. Galen’ll be happy that I remembered. That I stayed calm. He’ll laugh when I tell him about it.

  He sighed and tried to stand. Since he had been away from the brazier, his legs seemed to work a little better. Rob could not only stand on his own, he could walk without the rubbery feeling in his legs. He flushed the toilet and turned on the sink before knocking on the door to be let out.

  Rob was pushed back into
the room, the lock clicked into place. Once back in there the incense started affecting him again. He sank down to the floor and leaned against the wall, as far as he could get from the smoking brazier. He knew he couldn’t get far enough away, but he still tried. Having the pin bolstered him, he didn’t know what he could use if for, but having it gave him hope.

  He heard the door and looked up. Ashley came back in with the two guys from earlier in the day. She was carrying a cup. Rob looked at the two men. There was a sudden lump in his throat and he closed his eyes for a moment, relief flooding through his body. The one with the busted nose looked pretty much the same, but the other—his face was red, covered in a rash, one eye swollen completely closed.

  “What’re you smiling at, shithead?” he said to Rob.

  “Respect the Chosen,” Ashley chided.

  “The little shit’s smiling at me. What?”

  “You don’t look so good,” Rob said, still smiling. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you about stinging nettles?”

  “What’s that mean to you?”

  Rob laughed. “It means a lot, more than you know,” he said. He could feel tears on his cheeks. “My brother’s alive.” He reached out, trying to sense his brother. “Galen? I’m here.”

  The guy made to rush at Rob, but Ashley stopped him. “No, you can’t. They will be here in a minute to prepare for the next ritual. Drink this.” She held the cup out.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s part of the ritual, like the food. This is the sacred drink, it has been prepared for you, it is ritual, you must consume it,” she said in kind of a sing-song voice.

  “Uh, let me think about that.” Rob couldn’t help smiling. He’d been right all along, Galen was alive. That thought gave him strength. “Nope, not thirsty.”

  “You do it, or we will.”

  “Not drinking it, sorry.”

  “You need to drink this,” she said in the hard scary voice.

  “No,” Rob said, even though he knew they were going to force him to drink it. He felt braver. “Galen? I’ll be ready when you get here. We’re Keepers and I’ll be ready.” The guy with the broken nose came over and grabbed him, hard. He forced Rob’s head back and pinched his nose, Ashley poured the contents of the cup in this mouth and they held it closed until he swallowed. The liquid was bitter and made him gag. He was nauseous again. They pushed him back down.