The Shadow's heir trs-1

by K J Taylor

  “I see,” said Wolf. “Not many people like the King, but he gave a home to outcasts, an’ there’s not many can say they’ve done the same. I’m sure he’d be flattered t’hear ye thought enough of his land t’come this far.”

  Laela shrugged. “Who are yeh, then, Wolf? Why are yeh hidin’ like that?”

  “Because I just escaped from prison,” he said casually. “Don’t want anyone recognisin’ me; they’d drag me straight back an’ make sure I never got out again.”

  Laela stared at him. “Prison? Why? What did yeh do?”

  “Enough for ten death sentences,” he said, still calm.

  “Aren’t the guards after yeh?” said Laela, with the horrible thought that if they were tracking him, they might find her, too, and who knew what they’d do to her?

  “No,” said Wolf. “They don’t know I’ve escaped yet.”

  “Are yeh sure?”

  “Why, d’ye doubt me?”

  “I just met yeh,” Laela pointed out. “How would I know anythin’?”

  He chuckled. “True. Well, don’t worry; we’re safe. Nobody messes with me if they know what’s good for ’em. Anyway. . so what are ye going t’do now, Laela?”

  “I dunno,” she mumbled. “Them bastards took all my money. I was gonna try an’ find a job. .”

  “Got any skills?”

  “Not really. I can cook an’ clean, an’ I know how t’sew.”

  “Hm,” said Wolf. “I dunno, Laela. Maybe ye can pass as a Northerner at first, but as soon as anyone looks closely at yer, they’re gonna notice them beautiful blue eyes.”

  “But they wouldn’t care, would they?” said Laela. “I’m only-”

  “Only a Southerner,” he said flatly.

  “But I never did nothin’ wrong!” she almost wailed.

  “No, an’ nor did most of the Southerners the King’s rebels killed here all them years ago. Ye’re young, Laela. Ye don’t understand what that war meant. Us Northerners had been ground into the dirt by the sun worshippers for centuries. Half the people in this city have collar scars an’ memories full of pain an’ hard labour in mines an’ building sites. That ain’t somethin’ ye forget in a hurry. An’ when they see a blue-eyed Southerner, that’s what they think of. An’ ye. . well.” He sounded rather sad.

  “I know,” said Laela. “I know. I ain’t just a Southerner. When yeh see me, yeh know one of yer own people bedded a Southerner. Betrayal.” She had thought it many times.

  Wolf nodded. “It’s the mixing of North an’ South. Southerners’d see a dirty barbarian, Northerners’d see an arrogant tyrant. Madness, ain’t it?”

  “Madness!” Laela almost shouted. “What am I supposed t’do? Where’m I supposed t’go? Where. .?” The hard but unavoidable realisation that he was right, mixed with the deep shock that had yet to fade away, overwhelmed her, and she began to sob again.

  Wolf reached out awkwardly and patted her on the hand. “There, there. Ain’t no sense t’be givin’ up now, is there? Ye’re a brave an’ clever girl, ye are. Ye’ve survived this far; who says ye won’t survive even further, eh?”

  Laela fought to control herself. “But what can I do? Where can I go? I got no money, no home, no family. . gods, I shouldn’t’ve ever come here at all.”

  Wolf regarded her. “Well,” he said eventually. “I s’pose ye could stay with me for a while, if ye wanted to.”

  Laela looked up, tear-streaked. “What? D’yeh have a home?”

  “Of sorts,” he said. “I’m goin’ back there tonight. If ye want to, ye can come, too.”

  “Would there be room?” said Laela.

  “I reckon so. What d’ye say? I’m sure we could find a few odd jobs for ye t’do around the place.”

  “Where is it?” said Laela. “Is it in the city?”

  “Yeah. Ain’t too far from here.”

  “But what about the guards?” said Laela. “Won’t they know where yeh are?”

  “Oh, don’t worry about them,” Wolf said carelessly. “They’d never find me. I ain’t there t’be found when I don’t want t’be.”

  Laela hesitated. She was still deeply suspicious of this man, whoever he was, even if he had saved her. And yet. .

  “How do I know I can trust yeh?” she said.

  “Ye don’t,” said Wolf. “But I didn’t have t’help ye, y’know. I was off on my way t’have a good time somewhere, an’ I heard ye screamin’, so I came t’help ye even though I could’ve just minded my own business. Guess I’m just soft-hearted.” He snorted.

  Laela suddenly felt ashamed. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just. . well, why’d yeh want t’help me anyway? I ain’t anybody.”

  “I’d have helped anyone in that situation,” said Wolf. “An’ how can I just leave ye to fend for yerself? I know this city, Laela. Ye wouldn’t last a day. I ain’t that. . heartless.”

  He’s only helpin’ me ’cause he knows I can’t look after myself, Laela thought bitterly. But what choice did she have? “I’ll come with yeh, then,” she said.

  He nodded. “Good. Finish eatin’, an’ we’ll go. Ye can tell me more about yerself while ye’re at it, if ye like.”

  She wasn’t thinking of it, but after a while the silence became uncomfortable as he just sat there and watched her eat, so she talked-giving him her story in bits and pieces.

  “Dunno me parents’ names. Mother was a Southerner. Lived in the North. Dad said. . there was this Northerner. Criminal. Raped my mother. Dad was a guardsman; he chased the bastard an’ saw him die tryin’ t’get away. Then, after I was born, someone murdered her. . Mum, I mean. So Dad took me away with him out of the North an’ raised me himself. But he died.” She paused to swallow some beer. “Drank himself to death.”

  Wolf sighed. “Yes. . a lot of Southerners ran away out of the North when the war started. An’ plenty of Northerners got out of control ’round that time. Wouldn’t surprise me t’hear a lot of Southern women were raped like your mother. These things happen.”

  These things happen. That’s all very well for you t’say. “Yeah, I’m sure they do,” Laela muttered, and drained the beer. “So that’s me,” she said. “Parents didn’t love each other, father was a criminal, foster dad died. Buried him myself. After that, I sold our house an’ came North, hopin’ t’find somethin’ better. An’ I found you.”

  “I wouldn’t call myself somethin’ better,” said Wolf. “Better than those two scum, maybe.”

  Laela’s feeling of shame returned. “Yeh did save me. I don’t know what I’d do if I hadn’t met yeh, Wolf.”

  There was a smile in his eyes as she said this. She wondered, suddenly, if his mouth was smiling, too, and what it would look like. She wished she could see his face.

  “Are yeh ever gonna take that hood off?” she asked. To her embarrassment, she realised she was blushing.

  “Maybe later,” he said. His voice was a little muffled by the cloth.

  “Right, right,” said Laela, looking away from him and wishing she hadn’t asked.

  Wolf waited politely until she had finished eating. “Are ye ready t’go now?”

  Laela stood up. “Ready as I’ll ever be. Can I have my stuff back?”

  He handed over the blanket roll. “C’mon, then. Stick close t’me, keep silent, do what I do. I ain’t taken anyone this way before.”

  Laela adjusted the sword in her belt. “I’m ready.”

  “Good.” He strode over to the window and opened it. Then, to her astonishment, he climbed out of it. She hurried after him and put her head through the window, but she couldn’t see him anywhere on the ground. Where. .?

  “Up here.”

  She looked up and saw him perched on the roof. “What the. .?”

  “I told ye t’keep quiet,” he said. “Pass yer stuff up t’me, an’ I’ll give ye a hand.”

  Laela pulled herself together and passed up her bundle. He hauled it up and dumped it beside him before offering her his hands. She took hold of them, and he pull
ed her through the window and up onto the roof though his fingers seemed clumsy.

  Up on the roof, Laela straightened up and surveyed the view. Rooftops spread in every direction, studded with chimneys whose smoke drifted in front of the crescent moon.

  “The Bear’s moon,” Wolf murmured. “Protection. Now, pick up yer stuff, an’ let’s go. Don’t put a foot wrong, or ye’ll fall.”

  Laela slung her bundle on her back. “I’m ready.” She sounded more resolute than she felt.

  Wolf set out. He moved with the balance and certainty of someone who had done this a hundred times, leaping from roof to roof like an alley cat. The gaps were small, but Laela still felt her stomach lurch when she reached the first one. She hesitated, but her companion was already leaving her behind, so she gritted her teeth and jumped.

  She made it. Feeling a little more confident, she sped up. Wolf made it look easier than it was, but though she stumbled a few times, she managed to keep up one way or another.

  They travelled this way for some time, and eventually Laela was chilled to the bone. Her legs were trembling with fatigue, and she felt as if she hadn’t slept in months.

  Wolf stopped and waited for her to catch up. “We’re ready t’go back down,” he said. “Just follow my lead.”

  Laela nodded mutely and watched him climb down through the next gap, bracing himself against the walls on either side to stop himself from falling. When he reached the ground, he stopped and waved at her to follow.

  Laela sighed grimly and began her own descent.

  It was easier than she had expected, but her nerves kept her from relaxing, and she pushed against the walls so hard that once or twice she stopped herself altogether and had to rest before she could make herself continue. By the time she reached the ground, her mind was blank with exhaustion.

  Wolf patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he said. “We’re almost there. No more climbing from here on.”

  Laela groaned and fell in behind him. They passed through a gate in a wall, and then had to cross a large, open space before they reached a building. Wolf opened a small side-door with a key, and ushered her inside. Once they were in, he closed and locked the door behind him.

  “Now,” he said. “Nothing left but a few stairs.”

  A few!

  After the first ten flights, Laela was having fantasies about killing him. Stairs, stairs, and more stairs, up and up and up, on and on and on. She trudged along stoically, until white spots started to flash in front of her eyes. Wolf kindly relieved her of her possessions and went ahead of her, stopping occasionally to let her catch up.

  “Nearly there!” he said, more than once.

  Laela ground her teeth. She was too tired to say anything, but her mind was full of possibilities, each one ruder than the last.

  Finally, Wolf said, “All right, let’s stop for a rest.”

  Laela leant against the wall, then slid down it onto the floor and stayed there.

  Wolf sat beside her, hugging his knees. “Take all the time you need. We don’t have far to go now.”

  Laela managed to make a sound of mingled pain and disbelief.

  Wolf chuckled. “Yes, these stairs actually do have a top. You’ve done very well so far, considering how tired you must be.”

  Laela grunted noncommittally.

  “Well.” Wolf yawned. “Let’s do this last bit together, shall we?”

  Somehow or other, Laela managed to drag herself to her feet. “Where are we?”

  “Nearly home,” Wolf said unhelpfully.

  Laela muttered curses under her breath as the stairs continued. Wolf seemed to understand, and he didn’t hurry her along. That made her like him a little better.

  Finally, finally, the stairs ended at a modest wooden door.

  Wolf unlatched it. “Through here,” he said, and pushed it open.

  Laela stepped through and into warm firelight. The room on the other side was quite large, and modestly furnished-there was a bearskin rug on the floor, and the walls were lined with wooden panelling. There was a bed there-it looked rather unused-and a very large fireplace. She saw an enormous archway set into the opposite wall, covered by heavy cloth curtains, and wondered briefly where it led to.

  There were a couple of chairs in front of the fire, but other than a small writing desk, those were the only other pieces of furniture. Still, it looked like a home. For someone.

  Laela collapsed into one of the chairs without waiting to be invited. “Thank Gryphus. I thought. .”

  Wolf put her belongings down on the floor and stretched, rubbing his back. “Argh. Ooh. Ow. Bloody thing. You’d think after this long. . well.” He turned to her. “Home sweet home. What d’you think?”

  “It’s nice,” said Laela. She paused. “What’s that smell?”

  It was a strange heavy, almost spicy smell. Musty. It made her think of some kind of animal.

  Wolf sniffed. “What smell? Ah, this cloth’s stopping me from smelling anything. Wait a moment. . I may as well take it off now.”

  He pulled off his gloves and tossed them onto the bed, and Laela saw the long, elegant Northern fingers on his right hand as he pulled the hood away and shook out his hair. It was black, of course-long, thick, and curly. He took off the heavy cloak that had hidden most of his body, and then untied the cloth from his face and turned to face her.

  He was a young man-probably no older than her. He was tall and lean like most Northerners, and carried himself with a certain grace. His face was pale and angular, marred by a long, twisted scar under one eye, and he wore a neat, pointed chin-beard.

  He shook himself. “That’s better. This is my face.” His eyes smiled again, but now Laela could see his mouth, she didn’t see it smile, too.

  “Er. .”

  Wolf shook his head and turned away. “I’ll just get changed if you don’t mind.”

  Without another word, he took off the tunic he was wearing and put it away in a box next to the bed. As he straightened up, Laela felt her stomach lurch.

  He was hideously scarred. She had never imagined that anyone could be so deeply wounded so many times and in so many different places, and still be alive. Pale lines traced their way over his skin, interspersed with ugly red marks where the cuts had gone deeper. He looked as if he had been stabbed over and over again.

  The worst of them was in the middle of his back, just to the left of his spine. It was as wide as her hand, and its edges were swollen and blackened, as if they were rotting. As he turned toward her, Laela saw its twin on his chest, over his heart.

  Oh, Gryphus, she thought, nearly sick with horror. It went right through him. .

  Wolf suddenly looked embarrassed. “Oh, gods, I’m sorry. I forgot. .” He hastily snatched up a piece of clothing that was lying on the bed and slipped into it.

  It was a long, black robe, beautifully decorated with embroidered spiral patterns and tailored to fit his slim body. He did up the fastenings over his chest, fumbling with his left hand. The fingers on it were twisted and bent at unnatural angles, and the forefinger looked completely paralysed.

  Laela found her voice. “What happened to yeh?”

  Wolf looked grim. “Too much.”

  She stood up and came toward him, forgetting her fear. “All them scars. .” She reached out to touch his hand, and he let her hold it and turn it over, touching the warped fingers. They were painfully red and swollen around the knuckles, and they cracked horribly when they moved. “Gods. Yer fingers. . what happened?”

  Wolf looked back at her, his expression curiously ashamed. “Laela. .”

  She let go and stepped back, suddenly horrified. “Oh, Gryphus, I didn’t mean. . I’m sorry, I-”

  Wolf clutched at his ruined hand. “Nobody’s ever touched it like that before,” he said. He sounded a little shaky. “Nobody. . nobody likes to go near it. I know it looks ugly. . I try to keep it covered up. .” He rubbed it nervously, until the fingers cracked.

  “What happened?” s
aid Laela. “How did yeh get all them scars? What did they do to yeh?”

  “My fingers. .” He wrapped them in his other hand to hide them. “This is what they do to you when they want information.”

  Laela went cold. “Torture?”

  “Yes.”

  She shuddered. “The King lets them do that to his people? What kind’ve monster is he?”

  “A monster,” Wolf snapped. “Hah! The Southerners did that to me. In a cell under this very city. Broke my fingers. . one. . by one.”

  “Griffiners?” said Laela. “Griffiners do that?”

  “Always have,” said Wolf. “But I was dangerous. . a dangerous criminal. I had information they desperately wanted. I didn’t give it to them. And I made them pay. I made them pay a hundred times. Didn’t fix my fingers, though, did it?”

  Laela stared at him. Against her will, she thrilled at his words. “What had yeh done?”

  “You don’t want to know,” said Wolf. “Now, as far as. .”

  “Where are we?” Laela asked suddenly. “What buildin’ is this? Why all those stairs?”

  Wolf looked incredulous. “You don’t know?”

  “Wait. We ain’t-”

  “We’re in the Eyrie, Laela,” said Wolf. “This is my home. This is where I live and work. . This is my prison. Of course, my guards don’t know I sneak out most nights.”

  A horrible fear and bewilderment ate away at her. “No. This ain’t. . this ain’t. . Who are yeh?”

  Wolf tugged at his beard. “I know,” he said wretchedly. “I shouldn’t have brought you back here, but what was I to do? You needed help, and I couldn’t bring myself to leave you. .”

  Laela turned sharply as he suddenly stopped talking and looked to his left.

  The curtains over the archway had moved. Laela could hear something stirring on the other side.

  “Gods damn it!” Wolf cursed. “Laela, stay behind me.”

  He pushed her behind him and stepped toward the archway, but too late. They parted, and something pushed its way through.

  Laela staggered backward, wide-eyed, and fell.

  It was a griffin. . the biggest griffin she had ever seen-the biggest living creature she had ever seen, or imagined. Its birdlike forequarters were covered in silver feathers, but the magnificent head had a diamond-shaped cap of black and two long plumes over the ears. The hooked beak was black, too, and the eyes, glaring straight at her, were silver.