Heirs of War

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Heirs of War Page 14

by Mara Valderran


  Her father placed his hand on the small of her back, guiding her to the right and up a staircase. "I'm afraid we will have to take the long way. Your presence seems to have caused quite a stir." He guided her around the corner to one of the walkways and gestured below them to see the crowds gathering in the markets below. She nodded, and he continued, taking them back to the stairs and up another story. "Tell me, do you know where your sisters are?"

  She stopped in her tracks. "You are the third person to mention a sister of some kind to me today, and I have to tell you I am getting pretty tired of it."

  She was also not exactly cool with the idea of suddenly having a whole new family she had known nothing about her whole life, but she didn't mention that for fear of hurting his feelings. Maybe she had been an orphan for too long, but she found the idea of a father a little much to wrap her head around. Adding a sister to the mix pushed her beyond the level of incredulity at this point.

  He nodded, speaking mostly to himself as she followed him down the long hallway. "Of course they would have kept you separated. I should have realized...may I explain?"

  Zelene gestured for him to lead the way. “You said it was a long walk. Go for it.”

  “As Varrick mentioned, you are one of the Duillaine Ainnir, the next generation of our ruling body. Your mother was one of the Duillaine Banair.”

  She held up a hand to stop him. “Why don’t you just skip the history lesson and get to the part that explains why I didn’t know anything about all this.”

  His weathered features saddened at her tone, but he complied with her demand. “Very well. Each generation, the power from the Duillaine Banair is passed to the four Duillaine Ainnir, from mother to daughter.”

  “Why four?”

  “Each of you represents an element: Earth, Air, Fire, and Water.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Bet I know which one I am.”

  “Fire,” he said with a nod. “Just like your mother was.”

  “See?” she exclaimed. “So predictable. Wait—what do you mean, like my mother ‘was’?”

  "She died," he replied with an unfocused stare, his glistening eyes indicated that he was off in another place for a moment before bringing himself back to the present. "She was taken from us not too long ago. Your return brings me more comfort than I can possibly say right now. She was a beautiful and strong and wonderful woman." His hand drifted to his chest, clutching his heart as though he might be able to find the hole she had left and fill the void somehow. Seeing her take notice of the motion, he dropped his hand and aimed a bemused smile at her. "Quite stubborn, too, I might add. Which I suspect you might have in common with her."

  Any sympathy points he had gained with tales of his wife had just been lost in Zelene’s eyes as he compared her to a dead woman. As if fate wasn’t cruel enough by killing her mother right before they would have been reunited, now she had to deal with being told she was just like her? It wasn’t right.

  “I suspect I have that in common with a lot of people,” she shot back. “Not exactly an uncommon trait where I come from.”

  He only nodded as though her attitude had no effect on him. “I was explaining the Duillaine to you, I believe.”

  “And failing to get to the point. What’s all this got to do with why I knew nothing about the Duillaine?”

  “With your generation, there arose…complications.”

  “Complications?”

  “There is a prophecy,” he continued as they went up the stairs, “that speaks of a fifth being born into the Duillaine. This generation is supposed to be the most powerful of all the Duillaine. When you and your sister Ariana were born, we knew the Prophecy had begun to unfold.”

  “How?” she asked breathily, wishing she had taken the stairs more at school.

  “The Duillaine are chosen based on their dates of birth, coinciding with our four sacred days. So when twins were born upon one of those days, we knew the time was upon us,” he said heavily. “Further, the Prophecy speaks of a mark. A mark which Ariana bares.”

  “What’s the point of this Prophecy? What does it say we’ll do with all this power?”

  He placed a hand on her arm, guiding them to the railing so they were overlooking the city. "There's more to the circumstances surrounding your birth, I'm afraid." He stared out over Anscombe, his shoulders hunched. "The worlds where we live have been at war for hundreds of years."

  "Over what?" Zelene asked, tapping her palms against the railing as she took in the scene below. The view was breathtaking, really. She had been taken to the very center of Anscombe with its innermost ring of buildings. They were three stories up, but she could see most of the city spread out before her with its clusters of buildings and patches of green spread out to the blue of the sea surrounding the island city. It was peaceful, if you could ignore the crater beneath them. In fact, it was so peaceful and calm, she wasn’t sure the people were even aware of the crater or the supposed war.

  "I'd imagine the same sorts of things that are warred over in Dhara," he remarked. "Power. Beliefs. Greed. There are those who believe the Estridians are no longer fit to govern the worlds. These rebels are ruthless and will stop at nothing to get the power they seek."

  "Is that who tried to kill me?" she asked, her voice cracking at the memory. She gnawed at her bottom lip and worried about Kyle. The thought of him, injured and alone and possibly fighting for his life, brought a dose of reality to this whole experience that made her shift uncomfortably.

  "We believe so, yes. They are the reason we sent you away not long after you were born."

  She gave him a look of consternation then continued to stare out over the city. She could still see the man claiming to be her father from the corner of her eye. She felt her heart pick up its pace as she entertained the idea all of this might be real. "So, um," she began as she tried to find her voice, "what happened? To make you send us away?"

  He leaned his back against a nearby pillar, crossing one leg at the ankles and clasping his hands in front of him. "Your mother had just given birth to you and Ariana. We were celebrating your first Imbolc, which marks the end of year. Since this is one of the festivals I mentioned before, it also happens to be your sister Isauria's birthday as well as your Aunt Solanna. There's usually a massive celebration and an even bigger one had been planned for that year since you girls had been born, marking the beginning of what most saw to be an age of hope in these dark times. Everything was so busy...things were easily overlooked. In truth, we were too complacent, and we suffered greatly for this weakness. Solanna's first born, who was a month or so older than you, was stolen away in the night. We believe they intended to take either you or Ariana, but it became clear you were no longer safe here. We sent you with your Cynewards and have not seen you since. Until now."

  "I don't understand," she said as they began walking again. "Why do they want to kill us? Why not just take out the older generation and seize power that way?"

  "This is a different power I speak of," he clarified. "Anscombe leads the worlds because the Duillaine are powerful enough to do so. Together, they are strong enough to take down any army who might try rise against them."

  Zelene shook her head. She was having a hard following all of this. "Then why don't the Duillaine just take out whoever tried to kill me? Why are they leaving it all up to the five of us?"

  He picked over his words carefully as he said them. "Cahira was a...surprising threat. By the time anyone realized what they were plotting, they had already taken over countless worlds. A few generations back they managed to get an assassin inside the walls of Anscombe who very nearly killed one of the Duillaine at the time. And then, their attacks came to an abrupt and inexplicable end. I believe they learned of the Prophecy around this time. You see, you are born with extraordinary abilities. You are more in tune with the elements than any, in all the lands. This is the power they seek. Only then will they be able to rule the worlds."

  “So, knowing all this, you guys de
cided it was best to just ship us off to the middle of nowhere, without any clue as to who we are, what’s going on around us, or why some men might one day try to kill us,” she recited back to him as they came to a stop in a corridor. “That sound about right?”

  “Zelene, my dear, it is far more complicated than that,” Arland reached out for her but she jerked away.

  “No,” she growled. “You don’t get to play the part of doting Dad. Your brilliant decision seventeen years ago to throw us to the wolves nearly got me killed. And it might have gotten my best friend killed. I don’t know. So skip the fuzzy reunion crap and just take me to Kyle.”

  He gestured to the wing behind him. "This entire area is the leigheas. They will want to ensure you were not injured in your travels here, and then they will inform you of your friend's condition. Please cooperate with them," he asked in a stern but fatherly way not all unlike the tone Varrick would use with her sometimes. "I could stay with you, if you would like."

  “No,” she managed to say, swallowing hard against the dryness of her throat. The idea of other worlds and magic, she could almost take after everything she had seen. She didn't understand the magic, but she knew she would adjust and adapt like most people do. But standing here with her real father as he hugged her affectionately, she found the idea of having a “Dad” and a recently deceased mother to be more than she could take. “I'll be fine by myself."

  "Very well," he said with a bow of his head, then guided her to the first door on her left. Varrick will rejoin you soon. Should you need anything, please ask one of the galenas."

  Before Zelene could ask what a galena was, he ushered her into a large room lined with beds. The room appeared to be about the same size as the gym at her school. She barely noticed as her father spoke to a young blonde woman with an air of authority. Zelene was too busy looking around. She realized this area was a sort of hospital. The beds were empty for the most part, but there were a few patients scattered here and there. One with what appeared to be a broken leg, another looking like he was sweating out a fever. She spotted Kyle and rushed over to his bedside, nearly knocking over a tray with a bin of some kind of gray goop.

  "He's a fighter," the young blonde woman observed from beside her. She had honey-blonde hair with golden highlights neatly pulled back in a bun, with a few loose wisps framing her oval face. Gentle mint-green eyes sat beneath a severe brow and her lips fell into a natural pout, but her face was serious as she looked over her patient.

  "He saved my life," Zelene whispered as she took his hand.

  "We will do everything we can for him," she assured her. "My name is Bianca. I am the paion here. I oversee the galenas treating you. I would like to check you over myself if you don’t mind."

  "Yeah, of course," Zelene said and began scraping the flecks of blood off her hands anxiously. "I feel fine. The blood's not mine," she said, her voice thick with worry for Kyle.

  Bianca held out an arm, and Zelene tentatively stepped closer, allowing the woman to place a hand on her back and lead her out the door.

  "Well, let's get you cleaned up so you can get some rest. This is a private area," Bianca said as she led them into a somewhat smaller room next door. "No one else is allowed in here besides me and a few of my most trusted galenas. I will have your friend moved in here as well."

  Zelene gave a sigh of relief, thankful to be away from prying eyes and to be given the space to think everything over. She sat down on one of the three beds lining the front of the room, which was cordoned off by dark purple fabric strips. She peered around the one near her, seeing another area blocked off by curtains on all sides.

  "Should I be expecting company?" she asked as she gestured to the beds around her.

  Bianca was busying herself at one of the counters at the front of the room, mixing something in a cup. She pressed her lips into a tight line, full of concern, and walked back over to her new patient, handing her the concoction. "Let's just say I hope not. Here, drink this. It will help ease your nerves."

  Zelene wrinkled her nose at the mysterious liquid reflecting her perplexed eyes back at her. Remembering how her supposed father had pleaded with her to do as they said in here, and then promptly feeling her heart seize up at the idea of this new parental relationship, she threw the strange thick mixture down her throat like a shot. She compliantly leaned back against the pillow as Bianca began her examination.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Ariana couldn’t pinpoint when exactly she awoke, or when she had fallen asleep, for that matter. She opened her eyes to find she was sprawled across someone’s chest. She didn’t need time to adjust from her sleepy state. The truth of her reality came crashing back to her almost the moment she awoke. Hell, it might’ve woken her up as her mind continued to race and rail against her hopeless situation.

  She closed her eyes and listened to the slow, steady beat of Alec’s heartbeat. She let the rhythm wash over her, taking comfort in the presence of another human being that seemed to care about her. She had no idea why he did. He knew nothing about her. Maybe it was the solidarity of being prisoners together, but she felt connected to him.

  Or perhaps she was clinging to the last shred of hope she had. She tried not to let it die as she heard someone coming down the hallway. She shivered, fearing what might be in store for her now and keeping her eyes locked tight as if not seeing it might prevent any harm from coming to her.

  “Shh…” Alec urged their guest. “She’s still asleep.”

  “Her name’s Ariana,” Sheridan whispered with a hint of regret in her tone. “Has she been out this entire time?"

  "Yes," he responded quietly. "I thought she might need the rest. Blessed mothers know what Kellen has in store for the poor girl."

  "Mother isn't going to hurt her," Sheridan defended. The tone of her voice betrayed her own doubt at her weak assurances. “This wouldn't have been a problem if I hadn't messed up."

  "Don't let her make you think this is your fault, Sher. She had no right to try to play Ariana in her war games. Or you, for that matter."

  "Sorry. I just...I liked Emma. The girl my men killed. She was sweet. We were going to go to this dance and there were other boys there and she and I would giggle about them. It was going to be fun. I really thought…" She trailed off and cleared her throat. “That’s not the point. Don't blame my mother for trying to use Ariana to accomplish her goals. You know the Estridians would do the same."

  "What does Kellen want with her, anyway?"

  "You're kidding, right? I mean, you know who she is. She's one of the Duillaine Ainnir. Probably the single most powerful one of the five."

  "Yes," he replied snidely, "Kellen very thoughtfully told me who she is. But what does she want with her? I mean, why bring her here?"

  "The Prophecy. If she's the single most powerful person in the worlds, then Mother might be able to convince her to use her power to help us.”

  "Be realistic, Sheridan. What does she plan on doing with the girl if she can't win her over?"

  Sheridan seemed reluctant to answer. "She...she thinks she can transfer the power from Ariana to herself. But she doesn't think the ritual will succeed unless the other four are dead. I think she tried with Nandalia, but she didn't succeed. Nandalia was weakened, but...I don't know. Mother thinks it will work with Ariana, though."

  "And I doubt she'll be willing to let Ariana go if she succeeds in harnessing her power," he remarked. "What? What aren't you telling me?"

  "It's just...Ariana probably wouldn't survive the ritual.”

  Ariana’s eyes popped open at this. She couldn’t see Sheridan from this angle, and she was glad of that. She didn’t want her to see the fear she knew must be in her eyes. She needed to hear more.

  “No single person is supposed to wield so much power at the same time, and since she'd basically be acting as a conduit as the magic is transferred to Mother...." Sheridan trailed off, spreading her palms out. "She would probably die before it was done, if you ask me."
<
br />   “Then why try? If the ritual won't even work, I mean."

  "Because either way Mother will eliminate one of the biggest potential threats we have," she responded simply, as if Ariana’s death was nothing more than one piece in the giant puzzle of their war. "I should probably get back. She wanted me to bring you this food and tell you you'll both be moved to your room soon."

  "Our room?” he repeated incredulously. “She's keeping us together?"

  "I wish you hadn't shown her how taken you are with Ariana. You know she'll use her against you now."

  "I am not taken with Ariana," he said defensively. "As your mother so cleverly pointed out, it's in my blood to want to protect her. I care about you, and she's never used you against me. Truthfully, I'm not sure your mother is capable of noticing personal connections."

  "You care about me?" There was a tearful warmth in Sheridan’s voice that earned her resentful sympathy from Ariana. Sheridan treated Alec like a friend, but was so shocked that he would admit to caring about her. This girl’s life must be really messed up.

  "Of course," he said and took her hand, pulling her into a hug. He stiffened when she winced at the touch of his hand on her back. "How bad is it?"

  "Not that bad. I'll be fine," Sheridan said firmly.

  "Let me see.”

  She sighed and scooted forward, lifting the loose white tunic she wore to show her back to him. The girl looked as though she’d been whipped. Her back was a bloody mess, covered in cuts about an inch and a half thick and some stretching all the way across her back. Alec eased Ariana off his chest, lowering her gently to the ground without looking at her.

  Ariana was gaping at the wounds on Sheridan’s back, unable to believe a mother could do such a thing to her own child.

  "We should probably put some salve on them," he offered with a shaky voice full of sympathy and rage. He placed his hands on her elbows and helped her to her feet slowly.

 

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