Shattered Heir (Broken Gods Book 1)

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Shattered Heir (Broken Gods Book 1) Page 13

by N. M. Howell


  Arry was beside her fussing with the children’s mother, who remained unconscious. “Is there anything you can do for her?” he asked Rhea, brushing strands of hair from her dainty face.

  The woman was small and frail, and upon closer inspection looked barely over twenty, nearly a child herself. Her eyes were closed and her face white, her lips drawn back, resting in a peaceful smile as if she were somewhere else, far away from the horrors of their surroundings.

  Rhea crawled over to her, rubbing the tears from her eyes with the backs of her hands so she could see clearly. She lay her hands on the woman’s chest, expelling as much healing energy into her as she could. But it was no use, as the woman slipped out of unconsciousness and into death.

  Rhea sat back on her heels, tears streaming down her cheeks, this time from sadness, not smoke. She gazed down at the small woman and then back to her two crying children. “What are we going to do?” she whispered.

  The two children clung to each other as they cried, too consumed by their own fear to even notice their dead mother on the ground. Arry picked the woman up and took her to the other side of a tree, out of sight of the two children. Rhea led the them farther away and sat them under the protection of a nearby bush. “You stay here, okay? No matter what, don’t move. I’ll send more people to come help you, okay?”

  The children ignored her and clung to each other, unmoving. Rhea pushed herself back up to her feet and ran to another child who was crying next to the water, splashing his burned feet in the cool running stream.

  “It’s okay now, everything will be fine,” she said to him. She ran her hands along his feet and expelled cooling healing energy into his burned flesh, her fingers stroking his soft skin as she worked. The use of her fae magic after keeping it bottled up inside for so long felt strange, and she focused inwardly for a brief second to make sure she hadn’t allowed her other magic to break free of her block. Her stomach unclenched when she felt it locked away safely, pushed far back into the depths of her being.

  The child stopped crying and looked up at her, blinking away his tears. She brushed a smudge of black ash from his cheek with her thumb and kissed his forehead, pulling him back away from the edge of the water. He fell asleep as soon as she lay him down on the dry grass.

  Her sensitive hearing picked up voices behind her, the sound carrying their whispers over the breeze. She turned frantically around and saw her guardians bringing more people to the water.

  “This is all we could find,” Taelor said. His eyes were strained, the destruction of the village obviously taking a heavy toll him. “Everyone else has either fled or…”

  Rhea didn’t want to hear the rest. “What about the people who did this?”

  “Gone, so far as we can tell,” Taelor said.

  Rhea nodded and looked around. Unconscious or dead bodies lay on the ground, and people who were writhing and screaming in pain surrounded her. The village up the hill lay in ruin, the flame subsiding and the structures fallen flat. There was nothing left apart from burnt debris and ash.

  “I’m so sorry,” Rhea whispered to no one in particular.

  Roan wrapped his arm around her and pulled her tight into him, his hot energy comforting, even against the heat that emanated from the leveled village beyond. For the briefest moment, Rhea unknowingly allowed her defenses to lower and felt his strong, confident magic flood her system. She let out a controlled breath, absorbing his energy, her mind too preoccupied with the horrors around her to realize what she was doing.

  “You all right?” Roan asked.

  Rhea blinked, her gaze drawn toward him as she was pulled from her daze. She then realized that she had allowed her protective spells to slip and quickly increased her blocks against his magic, her body cooling as she pushed his magical energy outward. She shook her head and turned back to the people around her, nausea filling her.

  The villagers were peaceful people, elves and humans alike, who wanted nothing more than to live a life of solitude in this small settlement by the river. It was one of those rare regions of the Otherworld near the portals where humans had been brought through in ancient history and had remained a part of the social fabric. It was a rare sight, as most humans weren’t even aware the Otherworld existed. Hair of all shades and colors graced the heads of those she gazed at, a beautiful array of diversity and acceptance. These were a people who came together in unity despite race, despite origin. Who could possibly want to hurt them?

  Rhea and her five guardians busied themselves tending to the injured. There were dozens of them, even beautiful little cross-race children clinging to their mothers’ legs—most of whom were badly burned or near death. Rhea was using most of her energy healing them, and she didn’t have much left. She felt herself growing weaker with every person she healed, putting more of herself into each and every one of them as she moved through.

  She tended to the worst off first, her guardians doing what they could for the rest. Smoke still billowed from the village above, but at least most of the flames had stopped. There was nothing left to burn.

  Silence washed over them all as Rhea finally stood, looking out over the destruction that lay around them. This was not the homecoming she had expected.

  Tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill over her lids as she choked down a sob. She held such hatred in her heart for those who did this.

  She couldn’t fathom how her uncle could be so evil as to burn down an entire village of innocents, to cause so much destruction just to sit on a stupid throne. Her body and mind were numb from the pain. She just couldn’t understand it.

  What confused her most was that these weren’t even people who were threatening her uncle or opposing his claim. These weren’t the bloodied and beaten soldiers and warriors who fought and died for their cause. These were a peaceful race in a village far from the castle who wanted nothing at all to do with the politics of the gods, who wanted nothing to do with the horrific devastation that forced itself on their world against their will.

  She had never experienced such raw hatred. If this was his treatment toward innocents, she couldn’t fathom what horrors he would inflict on people who actually challenged him. She swallowed back the visions of the memory of the destruction her father had caused before she fled, and her stomach tightened in knots. But even then, she’d never seen destruction at such a grand scale.

  A piercing scream penetrated the silence, echoing all around them. “Help,” a small voice cried from the smoking village.

  Rhea sucked in a quick breath and instinct took over. She ran back to the village, ignoring the shouts and protests of her guardians.

  They caught up with her to help whoever remained. But just as they approached the village, a group of about a dozen hooded figures stepped from the ash. Glowing red from the embers, their hoods shadowed their faces. Rhea stopped in her tracks, and her guardians took stances around her, their bodies tense and ready to fight. She felt a wave of tension pass through each of her guardians in turn and had the distinct feeling they had just run into a trap.

  One of the figures stepped forward and lowered his hood. He was a tall, strong looking brute of a man. She couldn’t tell exactly what type of creature he was, but she knew she didn’t want to mess with him.

  “What do we have here,” his voice rang out around them, echoing in the silence of their destruction.

  “Who are you?” Grayson called. He stood in front of Rhea, holding her back with his arms. She peeked around the side to see, but he did his best to block her from view.

  “Under orders of King Aelon, stand down and you won’t get hurt.” A snicker made its way from the group and a smile spread across the man’s pale lips. Rhea bristled, bracing for attack.

  “What business does Aelon have here?” Grayson called out. “These are innocent people. They were no threat to you or your so-called king.”

  The man yawned. “Oh, my. A feisty one we have here. I don’t think we really have time for you right now.”
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  Roan stepped forward, his muscles rippling in the flickering light from the remaining flames. “Leave, or we will be forced to kill you.”

  “Oh, seriously. What a bore. Just get out of our way.” The man’s voice was tired, as if he couldn’t be bothered with any of the vicious attacks he had just led. He raised his hands up and shot a powerful blast of magical energy toward them.

  They were taken off guard. Rhea hadn’t expected such a fierce attack, and all six of them went shooting backwards ten feet. She slammed against the dirt and slid, scraping her back on the rocks, her skin tearing open and her body too weak to heal itself.

  Grayson pushed himself up and sprang forward. Roan was already in his great lion form, pouncing on the attacker. It was a bloody massacre as she watched all five of her guardians attack the hooded men. By the look on the first man’s face, he hadn’t expected such strong retaliation.

  It didn’t take long for most of the enemy to be taken out, her guardians proving themselves stronger than Rhea had anticipated. But the tall man who had addressed them stepped forward, raising his hands above his head. Rhea could feel the magic build.

  Desperate, she wanted to issue a warning to her guardians, but her words never came. She was frozen, petrified. She’d never felt such strong and unfamiliar magic before. A menacing darkness suddenly loomed over them, and she forced herself to speak. Her voice came out a stutter. “Guys,” she managed to say. All five turned toward her for a brief moment and recognized the horror in her eyes. They knew what was coming just from her expression, and all five ran back toward her, standing in front of her, forming a protective shield.

  “Someone, stop it” she said quickly. “I’ve never felt anything like it. Please, someone has to do something. I have a feeling this is not going to end well.” Her voice was hurried. She was terrified.

  Just as she could feel and sense her five guardians ready to attack at once, the enemy released his magic and it flew at them like a thousand torpedoes, ready to kill. Grayson lunged himself forward, steeling himself as a barrier. She saw his skin glow, his markings turning black. His full gargoyle self stood before them, creating a stone wall against the incoming attack.

  The spell blasted straight into him and Rhea screamed. She saw him collapse, the markings on him glow red and then dim to a pale gray. A deep slash cut across the front of him, splintered away like a cracked stone. The creature who attacked him fell to his knees, the power from his blast weakening him.

  Her guardians took the opportunity to attack. Roan pounced on him, tearing his neck wide open with his claws. Keaven, Arry, and Taelor all surrounded him, blasting their own form of magic into him until he lay still. He was dead.

  Grayson inhaled a slow, shuddering breath, and Rhea held her hands on his open wound, worried that it was too great for her to save him. His eyes fluttered closed, his skin turned even grayer than it had been before.

  “No, Grayson,” she cried, running her hands all over his body, sending healing energy into him as she worked. Her fingers traced along the gash and each intricate little crack over his skin, slowly healing it as she worked. But she’d expelled so much of her energy into the other people that she hardly had anything left.

  Her own magic began to dim, the glamor that masked her identity for the last few years and all other traces of her protective magic that she had embedded into herself slowly unwound. She pulled at every thread of that magic and harnessed it into her healing energy, forcing it into Grayson’s chest with everything she could. It was the only way she could harness enough magic and energy to save him.

  When Arry, Keaven, Taelor, and Roan were sure the attacker was dead and his dark companions taken out, they rejoined Grayson and Rhea, surrounding them, expressions of worry and sadness across their creased faces.

  Tears welled up in Rhea’s eyes as she held her hands firmly on Grayson’s chest. She felt her own magic disappear, her energy dissipating. She had nothing left.

  A tear spilled from her eye as every last bit of her own magic disappeared completely and her true self was revealed once more. She knew what she looked like now. If she could see herself in a mirror, she’d see that her hair glowed deep crimson and rose in the glowing embers around them, her ears were pointed, and her eyes shimmered pink and gold as they welled with tears. She was Rhea Greystone once more, no longer concealed behind the mask of her glamor.

  “Grayson, please,” she whispered. She squeezed her eyes shut and a single tear fell on the gargoyle, her last bit of magic spreading over him from the liquid.

  The last tear invigorated him with magic from her very being. Grayson’s eyes flashed open, and he sucked in a deep, shuddering breath. He gasped, looking up at her with wide eyes. His body shuddered, and Rhea sat back on her heels, her own heart tight in her chest. She gazed down at him in shock, looking into the depths of his stormy eyes.

  “Good work there, kid,” Grayson whispered, his voice hoarse. He offered a small smile, his body quivering beneath her.

  She looked down at him and shook her head, completely wiped out, empty after what happened. She then scowled and smacked his shoulder with her hand, not quite as delicately as she had intended.

  “Don’t do that,” she said, her voice coming up nearly a cry. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

  Grayson pushed himself up, wounded, but healed enough to support his own weight. He smiled at her, his expression softer than she had seen since he’d arrived to collect her in Detroit. It hardly seemed the same day.

  She took a tentative step toward him and then wrapped her arms around him when she saw that he was okay. He was alive. Whatever she had done, whatever energy she’d depleted from herself and whatever magic she had used up, it’d saved his life. For the first time in years, she was thankful for who she was. And for the first time in her life, she understood what her mother meant about the bond that existed between god and guardian. Another tear fell down her cheek and Grayson wiped it away.

  Rhea let out a calming breath and turned her attention back to the burnt village, gazing sorrowfully at the smoking ash that remained. Her heart bled for these people, and a new determination set into her bones. She felt somehow responsible for this, having abandoned her world when things got hard. Never again would she turn her back on the people, or on the horrors the gods had caused. She vowed to herself, as she looked out over the crumbling ruin, that she would do everything in her power to put a stop to the death and destruction that plagued her world.

  “Now see what I mean?” Grayson’s voice was softer, comforting. “You see now how much your world needs you?”

  The surviving villagers had staggered back to the remains of their village. They linked their arms around each other as they heaved ragged sobs together, and they looked at Rhea with mournful eyes. She was taken aback by all the wide eyes staring back up at her, recognition flashing across their faces as their gazes settled on their princess. Gasps made their way through the crowd, and she froze, her guardians tensing beside her.

  She had revealed herself to her people. There was no turning back.

  10

  An endless sea of hopeful faces looked up at her, their expressions a mix of awe and reverence.

  Rhea stood there, frozen, her gaze flicking from one person to the next. The crowd grew as more people gathered. Those who had escaped and managed to run far away returned, and the crowd multiplied ten-fold by the time everything settled. Men, women, and children stood around, holding each other and gazing up at her, their mouths open and their eyes wide.

  Whispers made their way through the crowd and grew louder by the second.

  Grayson stepped in front of her, blocking her view to the elves and humans. His back was tense, his muscles rigid. “Your glamor, Rhea,” he urged her, his voice was quick and menacing.

  Rhea placed a soft hand on his back, feeling the rhythm of his breathing as his chest rose and fell. “It’s okay, Grayson.”

  Grayson’s eyes flared with anger as he
looked back to her. “It is not okay. This whole mission is reliant on keeping you hidden, keeping your identity secret from this world. If these people see you, rumors will spread, and fast. It is crucial that you use your glamor to hide who you are.”

  Rhea looked up at him, shaking her head. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t. Her energy was depleted and there was no way she’d be able to harness her own magic without resting first. “Grayson, I can’t…”

  Taelor stepped forward, positioning himself next to Grayson. “Grayson’s right, Rhea. We can’t let anyone see you like this. Before it’s too late, please. Use your glamor magic and return to your human persona.”

  Narrowing her eyes, Rhea let out a slow breath. “Even if I wanted to, I can’t,” she tried to explain, her voice level. “I used up everything I had on this guy.” She motioned to Grayson, her expression flaring.

  Looking down at her, Grayson’s eyebrow raised.

  “I barely have the energy to stand, let alone weave intricate magic around myself again. There’s just no way.”

  The whispers grew louder, those in the back even began to shout, their voices carrying over the murmurs of the crowd.

  “Is that our princess?” The voice of an old man sounded from behind a nearby tree.

  “We have to get out of here.” Keaven came to join them, his face pulled together in worry.

  Rhea turned to him, frowning. “They’ve already seen me. It’s too late. Besides, there’s nowhere for us to go.”

  Taelor blocked the crowd’s view of Rhea, positioning his back to her.

  The village had to have been home to at least four hundred people, if not more, but there couldn’t have been more than eighty standing before him. More gathered from a distance, crowds coming in from of the other side of the river and bringing horses and buggies and other such items that they had managed to get away with. Still, by the time everyone had gathered, Rhea counted nearly one hundred people.

  Taelor turned back to Rhea, his expression grim. “What do you plan to do?”

 

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