Six Heirs

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by Pierre Grimbert


  But her rage was infinite.

  All the hatred and anger toward the Züu and their henchmen, and the sorrow that had been welling up inside her until then, now flooded her entire being.

  All she could feel now was fury.

  Never had she felt so ready. So powerful. Her entire body was responding to her frantic spirit. So much so that her senses seemed amplified.

  She heard each of their steps, every sound made by her approaching enemies. She noticed their changing expressions: from mocking, derisive, and curious to cruel. She felt the sand grinding beneath her feet, the wind caressing her hair, the knife’s rough handle against her palm.

  She had to force herself to unclench her jaw. While her body felt more agile than ever, her face was locked in a fierce grimace.

  The three men were close to her now. She noticed every facial tic, every detail of their clothing. These images would forever be burned into her memory. But she forced herself to focus on everything else, which was of more vital interest for the moment.

  Two of the men had swords. The third had a dagger. The bearded one carried his sword in his left hand. The man with the knife had only one arm. The bald one seemed the most menacing. She should get rid of him first.

  “Just come with us, don’t make a fuss,” the bald one croaked.

  Léti didn’t respond, still threatening them with her knife.

  “Come on now, just give it up, you’ll hurt yourself.”

  She swiped the blade about a foot from his face. She didn’t want to injure him. She still refused to start this fight. But surrender was out of the question.

  The bald one cursed and took a defensive position, ready to respond to any attack.

  “Wait,” the one-armed man chimed in, “don’t hurt her right away. This could be fun.”

  Léti faked an attack toward the man, who reared back and then continued forward with a stupid little laugh. Léti pushed back, but he drew even closer, laughing louder. The bearded one found the game to his liking and joined in, attacking her from the other side. Léti’s blade danced through the air, still not connecting with her targets. The two men amused themselves by touching her and jumping back, the bald one enjoying the show.

  Léti retreated a little farther up the cliff. The abyss was right behind her.

  “Eh! I bet you can’t undress her without getting bitten!”

  “I’ll take that bet!”

  The two men took to their game again, a vulgar gleam in their eyes. The one-armed one tore a piece off Léti’s tunic, crying out in victory.

  The young woman fumed. A hand landed on her shoulder. She let her reflexes take over and her blade bit into the flesh of a wrist.

  “Whore!” the bearded one screamed, clutching his wound.

  He staggered backward and dropped his sword.

  “Harlot! I’m bleeding like a pig!”

  The game didn’t seem so funny to him anymore. Nor to the others, who stiffened up in real combat positions before closing in on her.

  Now it was for real.

  The Zü paced back and forth, as if searching for words. But he must have already planned what he was going to say long before now, Corenn thought.

  He stopped, and for a long moment contemplated the sunrise over the Median Sea. The Mother doubted he could appreciate the beauty of the sight. Finally, he turned to focus on them.

  “For two of you, that’s the last time the sun will rise.”

  Rey, Corenn, and Bowbaq exchanged looks. Although they more or less expected very bad news, the raw truth still shocked them. Rey attempted to say something, but the beating he had endured, especially the wound to his throat, left him speechless. The sarcastic comment he wanted to deliver died in a cough.

  The assassin stared at them one by one before continuing.

  “Zuïa will forgive the first one of you, and only the first, who asks.”

  No one moved. The Zü waited patiently before resuming.

  “He who is forgiven must condemn his former accomplices. Which will essentially amount to reciting their names and where they’re hiding, starting with the Ramgrith, if he isn’t on the island.”

  There was still no reaction. The Zü looked irritated.

  “We will get this information one way or another. It’s simply a question of time and pain.”

  “You are truly the worst person I’ve ever met,” Bowbaq commented. “Mir wouldn’t even want you for food.”

  The Zü came over to stand right in front of him, fire in his eyes. The giant subconsciously covered his throat with his hand.

  “I am worth one hundred of you,” the Zü sneered, losing his temper. “Any one of Zuïa’s messengers deserves more respect than all of your kings combined! The goddess’s greatness flows through us!” he concluded, raising his arms to the sky.

  “Look at yourselves, the ‘heirs.’ A farmer, a delinquent, a woman, two children. You’re nothing compared to the Goddess. You’re nothing in the face of her judgment.”

  Corenn had made her decision as soon as the assassin began his sermon. It was clear that there was no hope in negotiating with this maniac. Unfortunately, they had no choice but to take action.

  It was best to act swiftly, before the others came back. While the Zü spoke to Bowbaq, she gave Rey a little nudge with her elbow, accompanied by a knowing look. The actor understood that the Mother was going to try something and prepared for action, though he was hurt and nauseous.

  As best she could, Corenn closed her mind off to everything that surrounded her, devoting every ounce of her attention to the crossbow the nearest Zü was holding. She roused her Will, then let it grow on its own, easily controlling it as she had learned. Her body temperature rose slightly, and wild impulses invaded her mind. Then she unleashed her Will and the crossbow string snapped with a sharp ping, leaving the object useless.

  Its owner leaned over to study it more closely, and everyone turned toward him out of curiosity. Rey swung around, caught hold of the guard behind them, and violently bit the man’s hand before snatching his dagger.

  No! It was too soon! Corenn didn’t have time to disarm the other crossbow. The Zü was going to shoot him!

  The magician couldn’t call on her Will again so soon after releasing it once. Since she was out of practice, the feat cost her nearly all of her energy.

  Horrified, she watched the assassin lift his bow and aim right at the actor, who didn’t have time to take cover.

  With surprise, she saw the tip of another arrow suddenly emerge from the Zü’s eye. Then, after a moment, a second, then a third, hitting another Zü in the chest and the leg.

  She searched the beach and the rocks surrounding them, not yet willing to believe the miracle. Grigán knelt at the top of a bluff one hundred feet away, firing arrow after arrow.

  Corenn made her way toward him, still too exhausted by the recent use of her power to run or even think. She heard Bowbaq let out a cry behind her, and turned to find him on the ground, moaning in pain, his hands clasping the handle of a dagger stuck in his side.

  The skull-faced Zü had just thrown the weapon. Toward her.

  Just then an arrow pierced the leader’s chest, and he fell to his knees. Rey, who had just finished off another crook, gave him a hard kick right in the throat.

  The vermin coughed up a pool of blood before collapsing face-first into it.

  Corenn gazed at the small beach that was once so peaceful. Now it wore seven bodies, one of which was her friend.

  Rey hurried to Bowbaq’s side and took out the little box that contained, perhaps, an antidote to the Züu’s poison. He made the giant, still bellowing in pain, swallow it, and applied some to the small but deep wound.

  “He threw himself in front of the dagger,” Rey told her. “He threw himself in front of it to save you. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen that. The first time.”

  The actor was truly moved. Corenn stared at him, still collecting herself. Rey had blood on his face, but he wore a boyish ex
pression.

  She gently pushed him aside and finished cleaning Bowbaq’s wound. He was still conscious, although groaning in pain. He wasn’t bleeding very much. The Züu’s poison was known to spread quickly. If he wasn’t dead yet, then it meant he was going to survive.

  Grigán finally joined them.

  “How is he?” he asked right away.

  “I’m all right, my friend,” the giant answered, out of breath. “I just wish I were somewhere else.”

  “You can count on me to get you out of here, my friend. Sorry for not stepping in sooner. But I couldn’t do anything as long as the two crossbows—”

  He didn’t finish his sentence. Corenn threw herself into his arms. He clumsily embraced her, feeling more awkward than if he went for a walk in a Eurydian temple stark naked.

  The Mother needed the embrace, but soon enough she regained her composure and broke free, feeling just as awkward as the warrior.

  “Let’s go look for Yan and my little Léti, shall we?”

  It was almost a plea.

  Yan felt more useless than ever. He had been walking around in circles for far too long without any sign of Léti. He could no longer even tell which direction would lead back to the skiff, or further inland.

  Everyone in Eza was right. He was good for nothing. He didn’t know how to help his friends. He didn’t know how to protect Léti. He couldn’t even find the trail.

  He would have been an awful companion for Léti.

  Yan realized he had just thought about his proposal as if he had given up already. After all, even if the two of them survived this ordeal, he wasn’t good enough for her. He didn’t deserve her.

  The Ancestress of Eza’s council told him one day when he was thinking such thoughts that every person possesses a talent that makes him the equal of everyone else. But he didn’t have any talent. He was only good at doing everything halfway. And the only reason he was still alive now, while his companions faced certain death, was because he got so lost that he disappeared in the center of the labyrinth.

  He sat down to think about what he could do, besides feel sorry for himself. But as soon as he sat down, he jumped up and took off running.

  He had just heard screams echoing in the night.

  Among them, Léti’s voice.

  He didn’t take any of the precautions from earlier. Get to Léti as fast as possible—that was all that mattered.

  More screams. Threats. Sounds of a struggle. Léti was fighting for her life.

  He scrambled to the bottom of the cliff, pausing only to grab a rock, before charging toward the bastards, screaming furiously.

  A bearded man turned around to face him, sword in hand. The man’s hand was bleeding, and he could hardly hold his weapon.

  The other two turned around by reflex when they heard Yan arrive. Léti was still standing, but she was in a pitiful state. Even at this distance, Yan could see cuts on her arms and her legs. They had dared to hurt her!

  Yan could hardly believe what he saw next. Léti thrust out her arm, and one of the men screamed out in pain, grabbing at his eye. He fell to the ground trying to stop the blood.

  The last man redoubled his effort and ferociously attacked Léti, who could only recoil to avoid him.

  Then, Yan watched with horror as Léti threw herself at her adversary, struggled with him for a brief moment, and then both tumbled off the cliff into the void.

  He heard himself cry out, “No!” and he couldn’t stop screaming.

  He now found himself close enough to his own enemy. He threw the heavy rock right at the man’s face, his strength increased tenfold by the horrible scene he had just witnessed.

  The projectile hit its target with a heavy thud, but Yan didn’t stop to judge the results. He ran to the top of the cliff and leaned over the edge, dreading what he would see.

  “Yan!”

  Léti was only two yards below. With a single hand, she desperately clung to a tiny rock outcropping.

  “Yan, hurry! I can’t hold on much longer!”

  She wasn’t kidding. She sounded panicked.

  The boy frantically searched around him, but there was nothing—nothing—that he could use as a rope. Even his clothes weren’t strong enough to hold her weight.

  He got down on his knees and swung one leg over the cliff’s edge. His foot found a hold and he started to move his other leg.

  “No! No! We’re going to die!”

  Now she was really panicked.

  Yan continued his reckless descent, hardly taking the time to verify the strength of each hold. But he couldn’t make it all the way to Léti. The best he could do was lean over and reach out his hand to her, but he would never be strong enough to lift them both up with his other hand.

  His foot slipped and Léti screamed, terrified.

  Yan hesitated, trying to find some other foothold, some easier solution. But there wasn’t one.

  Suddenly, everything was clear, perfectly clear in his mind.

  They were going to live or die together.

  He reached out his hand, flexing his muscles as much as he could. Léti eagerly seized his extended arm and did her best to relieve Yan of her weight, grasping at the smallest handholds and footholds she could find.

  But it still wasn’t enough.

  Yan couldn’t lift her up.

  One of his arms was weakening, and he was going to lose her or lose his grip on the cliff wall. One way or another, it was over. He could see the rocks, forty yards below, and Léti’s pleading face right next to his. His arm began to shake.

  No!

  No, it was so simple: he had to do it. He needed to. He willed it to happen...

  He gritted his teeth and concentrated his will on the strength in his arms. After a few moments, he was dripping with sweat; blood hammered in his temples like a drummer on the Day of the Earth. He couldn’t feel anything except his own hand grasping Léti’s and his will to pull her up toward him.

  He gained a few inches, and kept pushing himself. Soon, he had pulled them up a full foot higher. Then, slowly, he straightened up and it got easier.

  Finally, Léti was high enough that she could swing all of her weight up onto the little rock outcropping that had saved her life. She and Yan rested for a moment against the face of the cliff, gasping for breath.

  “What you just did...was impossible, Yan,” Léti whispered.

  The young man didn’t respond. He began to feel faint. He started climbing up right away, to avoid passing out in such a precarious position.

  He felt completely drained and very cold. Léti reached the top before him and had to help hoist him up, where he collapsed. His head was spinning.

  But he had saved her.

  For the first time, Grigán recognized that Rey had a place in the group. He had reacted well during the battle, and even before, from what Corenn said. He might have had a part in saving Bowbaq’s life, and he was the one who spontaneously suggested they go looking for Léti and Yan.

  Nevertheless, his biggest faults, namely, his disrespect and constant provocations, were hard to deal with. Even the Züu agreed.

  But for now, Rey kept quiet and obeyed Grigán’s every order. Their partnership proved effective: they had already come across three thugs working for the Züu in the labyrinth and struck them down with ease.

  Finally, around a bend in the path, they stumbled right into the two young Kauliens. Yan looked feeble, and Léti was covered in cuts and bruises, her clothes torn completely to shreds.

  The warrior sighed in relief. They had all been lucky. Extremely lucky, even. He promised himself to be more careful next time.

  “Are the others all right?” Yan murmured with difficulty.

  “Bowbaq is hurt, but not too seriously,” answered Rey. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Léti went up to Grigán and grabbed him firmly, but not aggressively, by his black clothing.

  “You are going to teach me how to fight,” she said clearly, fixing him with a solemn
stare.

  The warrior waited for Léti to let go of him before answering.

  “Fine, if it will keep you out of trouble. But it won’t be as much fun as you think,” Grigán said.

  “I don’t think it’s going to be fun,” she answered, turning back to Yan, who wondered if he had understood this exchange.

  They quickly made their way back to the beach. A few more thieves were waiting there, and threw a few insults their way, but Grigán held them off, threatening them with his bow.

  “They must have already noticed the nice holes I made in their boats,” Rey said. “My popularity must be at an all-time low today.”

  “What happened here?” Léti asked, seeing the bodies.

  “We’ll explain later.”

  Grigán motioned toward the boat, where Corenn and Bowbaq sat waiting for them near the shore. The sorceress brought the skiff to them, and they set out right away, relieved to finally be in relative safety.

  Each told his or her story. Corenn was hardly taken by Léti and Grigán’s new notion, but she put off discussing it in detail until later.

  On the other hand, she was exceedingly interested in Yan’s experience on the cliff.

  After a long moment of reflection, she broke the silence they had all settled into.

  “Yan, we’re going to have to have a long talk, you and I,” she said simply. “I’m sure you’ll find it interesting.”

  SHORT ANECDOTAL ENCYCLOPEDIA OF THE KNOWN WORLD

  Alt–The largest river in the known world. Its headwaters are located in the highest of the Curtain Mountains. It crosses the Ithare Kingdom and the Grand Empire before reaching its delta in the Ocean of Mirrors.

  A Goranese legend claims that when the time has come, the dead will float down the river in gigantic phantom boats and take revenge upon those who have committed atrocities toward their living kin. Every once in a while, someone claims they’ve seen the vanguard of the dark army. Some harbors even refuse all embarkations after nightfall.

  Apogee–The moment when the sun is at its highest point: noon, in our world. It’s commonly accepted that the end of the third deciday marks the apogee.

 

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