Abendau's Legacy (The Inheritance Trilogy Book 3)

by Jo Zebedee

  They reached their docking bay and the planet-hopper allocated to them – top of the range, of course. At some point he’d get used to it, surely, and stop doing a double-take to check if such luxuries were really laid on for him. He climbed aboard, and dropped into the padded seat beside Kerra before the lieutenant could make him sit in the middle of the squad. She had been the only saving grace of the last few days – if she’d been told about the incident with their father, she must have decided it didn’t matter, as she blithely treated him the same as before.

  Perhaps she could sense he was no danger to her – that he would, if he could, protect her. She had, after all, been helping him by pretending his guard was no different from her own and finding ways to stay beside him so he wasn’t cut off by his entourage. He wished he’d known closeness like this as a child.

  The door to a different future opened, just a crack. It felt like she might teach him how to push through into it. If he did, would she come through that door, too, into her own changed future? She certainly seemed more independent than when he’d first met her, more questioning of her own path forwards. Her insistence on learning how to Control was something he couldn’t have imagined the Kerra from the palace doing.

  Durren, their tutor, slipped into the row behind them. “Did you read the information I filed about the forests?”

  Baelan nodded. If he kept quiet, he might get away without admitting he’d missed his home-study. He started counting inwardly. One – two – three…

  “It was very interesting.” Kerra’s voice oozed enthusiasm, and Baelan gave a half-smile; he’d known Little Miss Smart wouldn’t have skipped homework. “The whole eco-system has adapted to the lava-mud.” She ticked off her fingers as she covered each point. “The trees themselves have roots that stay near the surface, drawing heat from the pools by surrounding them, like a bowl. And within the roots, pockets form of warm soil – that’s where you get other plants. Ferns, brambles and low bushes. That’s all that grows – and each is particular to its conditions.”

  “And you, Baelan?” Durren touched his shoulder. “Tell me what you thought about the native species?”

  Damn. Kerra flashed a “you’re-in-trouble” grin. He cast his mind through what little information he had gleaned, most of it from tourist ads and not Durren’s carefully presented research, and came up with the only interesting creature on Ferran.

  “The fire-sprites are deadly.” He’d spent an afternoon looking at pictures of the unlucky tourists who didn’t make it back before nightfall. “When the Ferrans find the victims, the bodies aren’t rigid. The sprites strip their heat all night and only kill them at dawn. The victim can feel their teeth ripping the skin to find the warm bits – they found one guy still alive, and he said it was the worst pain he’d ever known.” He grinned at Kerra. “D’you want to know the really vile bit?” Kerra nodded, her face caught between revulsion and fascination. “They save your eyes to the en—”

  “Thank you.” Durren’s voice was clipped. “You’ve obviously done extensive research of your own.”

  The ship’s engines started and they lifted from the port, staying low over the city. The morning sun rose over the forest but even leaving this early, they’d be lucky to have four hours in the forest: Durren would err on the side of caution and leave well before the short dusk. They flew over the force-field fence separating the city from the forest, the ship swooping and graceful, its engines quiet.

  That was how the Empress had taken the planet in the first war of the empire. She’d brought the fence down at night and let the sprites take the city. By morning, when she deployed her soldiers, three quarters of the population were already dead. And he had once worshipped her, not knowing – indeed, celebrating her actions as evidence of strong leadership – her cruelty. How she would hurt him and warp him. That was who his father was going up against. He was crazy, but Baelan understood why he’d had to go. Someone had to stop her. The thought of his father made his stomach flip, and he wrenched his thoughts away. He’d done well, these last days, to stay calm. He didn’t want to ruin it now, especially in front of Kerra.

  The ship climbed and the forest spread beneath them, its canopy tight. Occasional gaps appeared for the transport stations. Those nearest the city were busy and when he leaned his nose against the glass, nudging Kerra to make room for him, he could make out more kiosks and milling early-bird tourists who had either left the port first thing, or accessed one of the planet-hopper taxis, operating from a smaller depot in the city centre. The next of the transports left the port after theirs, spilling out over the trees.

  They flew on, Durren pointing out occasional gaps where lava pools were, but Kerra had gone quiet, the way she’d been for the last couple of days. He supposed she was worried about their father. And the pictures of her mother on the nets couldn’t be a lot of fun to watch. He kept his thoughts very carefully hidden; who’d have known cold Sonly could be so hot?

  A tickle touched his mind, a familiar sense of someone he knew. All thoughts of Sonly left him. He reached out, sure he was wrong, but found it again. It was unmistakable: his mother was somewhere close.

  She couldn’t be. He dampened his excitement, but checked again. She was somewhere below in the forest. She’d come for him. She might have come to take him home. Even as he thought that, he knew it wouldn’t be possible, that to go home to the tribes meant too much danger for him, let alone going back to the Empress.

  Ideas formed in him, about how he could grab her and take her back to Ferran with him. Once there, le Payne would have to do something to keep her safe – he’d insist on it. The planet-hopper began its descent, and the feel of his mother got stronger. His eyes welled with tears he had to bite back. He was behaving like a child. She hadn’t abandoned him. He reached out. I’m coming, Mother, I’m coming. Once he found her, he’d work out what to do. He’d bring the forest down around him if he had to.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Kare cursed as he slipped down a dune, wrenching his ankle. He’d forgotten how hard the desert made everything. He tried to slow his descent but his boots didn’t grip on the soft sand, and he hit the desert floor hard enough to jar his teeth.

  Damn it, he’d had enough of the place already. He checked his bearings and started up the next dune. Not far, and if he pulled this off it would be worth the desert walk. He cast himself into the mesh, found the pilots safely in orbit, and smiled. It had worked. His father would have been impressed.

  He crested the dune, lungs burning, and scanned the horizon. He should be able to see the pick-up by now; he was practically on top of it. Sand stretched in each direction, and the sun fell over the distant city of Abendau. Unease prickled him – once the sun went down, night descended on Belaudii with startling speed. If the transport didn’t pick him up soon, he’d end up spending the night in the desert. That wouldn’t be good, not with the accompanying animals and cold, no matter how up to date his desert training was. Even the tribespeople didn’t spend nights alone in the desert if they could help it.

  He took a deep breath, steadying himself, and activated his call-sign. He was in the right place; the pick-up was late, that was all, possibly because of the attention the space-drop had brought. He sat on the crest of the dune; no one needed him to wander off. Eventually, if he had to, he’d find a ridge, make sure it was one without clutterbacks, and wait the night out in the light shelter-pod in his pack. He’d done it once before, after becoming Emperor, when he’d realised taking the palace and port had been the easy part of mastering Belaudii. That time, though, he’d had a squad of soldiers on standby, and a tutor from the tribes. He’d never been in the desert alone so late in the day.

  Baelan would have. The desert would have been his playground. He would know this view of Abendau under a huge setting sun. He’d be quite at home, no doubt, with a sleeping zone already staked out. Somehow, sitting in the desert, Kare felt closer to his son, as if by sharing the same expanse he could see how the boy m
ust feel. It must be alien to be taken from the freedom of the desert and shoved into the entourage that was the family Varnon’s life. The sense of the desert followed Baelan, the low thoughts of loss that Kare hadn’t managed to pinpoint until now, imbued with this sense of place. The boy needed space to grow into his powers, and to do that he needed to be in touch with the land that had grown him, more than Kare’s genes ever had.

  The sand shifted in front of him, scattering his thoughts. He scrambled to his feet, mouth and throat dry. If it was a lizard, his best hope was to run before it emerged; if a clutterback, staying still was key. The sand shifted again – the creature, whether spider or lizard, was huge.

  The sand raised into a dome. He backed away. Even for a lizard it was giant, but not impossible.

  It formed past any lizard’s size, taking on the shape of a desert transporter, one of the dual-function types, used on the desert sand or in the air. It had been waiting most of the day, judging by the amount of sand it displaced. This wasn’t what had been planned.

  He inched his hand to his blaster – not that a blaster would make much impact on a transporter designed to withstand the fierce storms of the central plateau. But if his team had been infiltrated, he’d take out the first soldiers and buy time to run. Where to, he didn’t know.

  The emerald V-symbol of his empire, etched into both flanks, had been replaced with his mother’s stylised P. Shit. He brought his blaster up. Night was falling, fast, the shadows stretching. If he had to run, he’d have no way of knowing what sort of sand he was on. He backed away, to the crest of the dune, and stood, poised to run.

  The hatch opened with a grinding noise, shifting sand to the ground. A familiar figure, dusky-skinned, soft-eyed, technically too old to be undertaking active missions, appeared, and his breath left him in a whoosh. Simone.

  He skidded down to the transporter. It had actually worked. He was on Belaudii, about to go to Abendau. If he’d got this far, suddenly the rest didn’t seem impossible.

  Abendau. He glanced at the distant city, its lights stark against the darkness. Abendau, where he’d have to remain undiscovered for two days, despite having the most recognisable face in the galaxy. The cropped hair wouldn’t make any difference, not after a decade of being on holos every day, on flags and credit chits. And his face was only half his problem.

  He took the mesh and found Farran. It’s time. The answering pulse was wary, resigned. Kare found the centre of the mesh, centred somewhere in that part of him his power had once inhabited. He stopped at the bottom of the dune and squeezed his eyes shut. To go back to the powerless darkness unsettled him, almost as much as the thought of the task ahead in Abendau palace did.

  Get on with it; you have no choice. He concentrated on the shape of the mesh, how it joined with him, and he closed the link, squeezing it to nothing more than a pin-prick. It fought him, a thing alive the way his own power had never been. He gritted his teeth, focusing on what was needed, but it took a few attempts before the mesh vanished to something small, almost hidden.

  He stumbled forwards. Every other time he’d lost his powers, he hadn’t been fully aware of them departing: the first time he’d been facing the horror that was Beck; the second he’d been falling into a breakdown. This time he knew and felt half of himself: bereft.

  He fought the urge to find the little core he’d left. Farran had said when he rejoined the mesh it would still be there, and that he would be able to hold and shape it again. He had to trust the Roamer – he knew more than Kare.

  He reached the bottom of the gangplank, his steps oddly dislocated. Simone joined him, and her wide smile was enough to push away the doubts. “Sir. It’s good to see you made it.”

  “It’s good to see you, too.” He reached out and took her elbows, squeezing them in a quick embrace. “Let’s get on board.”

  He followed her up the ramp, pulled his pack and shield-belt off and rolled his shoulders. It was good to be free of the weight. He leaned over and ran his hands through his hair, sprinkling sand onto the transport’s floor. That, more than anything, brought home the realisation he was back on Belaudii where sand seeped into every building and carpeted every floor.

  “Why come in advance?” he asked.

  “We left before the landing, in case it caused an alert and the city was closed. That being the case, Major Hickson decided we were at risk in the open.”

  He nodded. Lichio’s people had always had a wide remit in their operations; it wasn’t his place to second-guess decisions taken on the ground. Especially when they worked. He took one of two empty seats in the second row back.

  From the row opposite, a hard pair of eyes met his, dark and unfriendly. Kym Woods, here to welcome him. He met her glare and didn’t look away; he had held those eyes in his mind for ten years since Silom had died under their stare. They could deliver no censure he hadn’t given himself. Besides, Silom was one of the people he was going into the palace to repay; it was good to be reminded how much he’d mattered, however unpleasant.

  Kym looked away first and he took a deep breath in. Her grief was different from his own. He missed Silom, every day, and blamed himself for his death, but he hadn’t lost his future. She and Silom were to be married. They’d talked about a child. Instead, Kym was a veteran soldier in his army, pledged to fight for a dream Silom had died believing in. She was one of the finest soldiers in his army, earning commendation after commendation.

  He’d rarely had the chance to study her over the intervening years, as happy to have her positioned away from him as she was to apply for off-world missions. She seemed the same taut, focused soldier, nothing other than lines around her eyes to show she’d aged.

  Sand swirled around the transport as they gained height. He wished he’d found a way to reach her over the years. But that was his need, not hers – to push for it would have been a selfishness too far. She was a specialist with years of experience behind her: he could ask nothing of her but that she did her job, just as she’d always done.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The planet-hopper landed with a soft thud. Kerra pressed her nose against the viewing port. Dark woods surrounded the clearing, creating an eerie look even on a bright morning, giving her a feeling of unease. She tried to quell it. They were going in with a native Ferran, a tour-guide who knew the forest well. Not to mention two security squads. And this sector, the Green Zone, had been cleared for her and Baelan. It was perfectly safe, like everywhere she visited. Even the busy souks of Abendau city had been cleared of tribes-people so she could visit. It was also, she admitted in a small thought, boring.

  The hatch opened with a low hum, and her security team moved out first. Durren gestured for her to follow, and she headed down the gangway, but Baelan was surrounded by his team even before he left the ship. She gave him a sharp glance – at some point, she’d have to find out what had happened to change his security pattern; on Syllte he’d been treated the same as her, here he was akin to Ferran’s most wanted. She bet the mesh knew, if she was allowed to access it.

  Her team had fanned out, checking the clearing. Durren beckoned her and Baelan to the edge of the clearing, near the tree-line. The air grew musty, akin to wood that had been stored damp, but there was a sharpness too, ozone-like. It made her want to sneeze.

  “Amazing,” said Baelan. He peered into the deeper forest. His voice was laid-back, but his eyes were sharp as he stared forwards, and he was tense. Between that and the closeness of his team, something felt wrong, almost claustrophobic.

  She tried to tell herself it was the heaviness of the air, but it was more than that. Was it Baelan? She liked him, partly because he was hard to predict. Her whole life had been full of a long line of predictable tutors and governesses, and safe friends; he made a refreshing change, if not a relaxing one. Or was it the absence of the mesh that was putting her on edge? It was incredible that she’d managed all her life without something that was so much a part of her now.

  Baelan walk
ed farther into the woods, his squad with him. She wished she knew what he was thinking, but he was closed off, unreadable. In the mesh, he was easy to sense, a jarring wrongness that shone as brightly as a laser in space. It was as if his power didn’t match, the way hers did, that it had the same jagged edges Dad’s had—

  She squashed that thought, shocked. Dad was the King: he wasn’t just part of the mesh, he was it. Of course he felt different, he was the centre, the focus of everything. Without his control, the mesh had collapsed and lost its shape.

  Durren nudged her. “Come on, I don’t want to get split up.”

  She stepped under the canopy and coughed as the acrid air grew stronger. One of the soldiers glanced sharply at her. “Face mask?”

  She shook her head. The orientation-holo on the forests had said the discomfort usually passed. She followed Baelan and Durren through the forest. It was so quiet, as if the dense air held secrets. Her unease deepened, tickling the back of her mind. She wanted to go back to the transport and take off.

  “All right?” asked Durren.

  She nodded. The forest was spooking her, nothing more. “Where’s the guide?”

  “At the tourist station.” He pointed to an arrow-marked path cleared through the forest. “About five minutes’ walk.”

  “Wow.” Baelan’s voice carried from ahead, the sand-harsh tones of a native Belaudiian odd in the forest. He was standing at the base of one of the trees, his head tilted back. “You can’t even see the top.” He pointed up, and he seemed perfectly normal. She had just been spooked. “Seriously. Look.”

  She did. The canopy was far, far above them. She squinted into the forest. A few metres away, the glow of a lava pond softened the darkness. She pulled Baelan’s sleeve and he followed her glance.

  “I didn’t know they were that big,” he said.