Heartless Heirs

by MarcyKate Connolly

  “Father,” Remy calls out, and Isaiah lifts his head, surprised to see all three of us.

  “Good morning,” he says. The men with him look at us irritably.

  “May we speak privately?” Remy asks, gesturing at all four of us.

  Isaiah sighs. “Come with me.” He quickly leads us to a small grove nearby that still provides a good view of the cave. “What can I do for you?” He eyes us wearily, his gaze lingering on my sister and me. He’s still suspicious we’re hiding something, even after everything that’s transpired.

  “We must beg you to reconsider the sentence for the Technocrat named Aro. He risked his life for our cause. That’s no small thing,” Remy says.

  “Neither is the fact he’s a Technocrat,” Isaiah says.

  “He could be useful,” I say. “He works in the Palace. He’d continue providing intel for us, I’m certain of it.”

  “We already have spies inside Palinor, and they’re higher up with better access. We have no use for him, other than to make him an example.”

  I shudder. The finality in Isaiah’s words stings. He is singularly unable to even consider the suggestion that Technocrats are people deserving of mercy.

  When I first realized the Alchemist Alliance’s goal was to restore magic and balance to all people, not just the Magi, I was surprised. But the more I talk to people like Isaiah, the more I see that we must do something. Surely, it’s possible to bridge the divide between the Technocrats and Magi. After all, Aro and I did it. Anassa and Lela did it. Even my classmate Vivienne fell in love with a Magi. I’d always written her off as frivolous and silly, like the rest of the Technos. She loved to talk about fashion and courtiers and the latest new inventions, but never any subject with real weight. But when her boyfriend was captured, she defended him to the king and queen and begged for mercy. She suffered greatly for it, to be sure. But those connections are real and worth fighting for.

  “You won’t even think about it? Please, Father,” Remy says.

  Isaiah face creases into a stern frown. “There is nothing to think about. With the council no more, my word goes. He will die after we reach the borders surrounding Palinor. He’ll be hanged from one of their disgusting metal trees.”

  “But—”

  Isaiah cuts off his son. “We’re done. Do not broach this subject with me again. My decision is final.”

  “Then we’re leaving. We can’t stay and be a party to this abuse,” I say.

  Isaiah frowns deeply at his son. “We know who our enemy is. The massacre at the Chambers should have removed any doubts you may have had. I’d expected better of you all. Our people are stronger together, but you do what you must.” With that he turns, leaving us gaping in his wake.

  When night falls, we cloak ourselves carefully and hurry back to the Magi encampment. Aligning myself permanently to a Technocrat flies in the face of everything I was raised to believe, everything I cherished, even everything I intended. But there’s no help for it. Hearts don’t listen to reason. They don’t comply with what you may insist is right. They choose their own path and drag you along for the ride whether you like it or not.

  The truth is, I had little choice in the matter. Now Aro and I both are paying the price.

  But once he’s free, I will breathe a little easier. Keeping him close is keeping him safe, and right now that’s all that matters. I can depend on Zandria and Remy protecting Aro too, however begrudgingly.

  When we reach the tightly knit grove where the prisoners are kept, we keep close together and watch for guards. They didn’t have any here last night, but there could be some hiding under a shield spell now. However, I learned something to help with that at the Sanctuary. I murmur the words just as Catoria taught us. Any people within range are suddenly lit up to my eyes only. There’s one guard not far off, but he’s facing away from the prisoners. That will work in our favor.

  I motion to Zandria and Remy to keep watch, then carefully thread through the sleeping prisoners and their cages until I reach Aro. He’s asleep as well, the moonlight again falling across his face and lighting his hair up like a candle. My heart beats faster and not just because we’re taking such a huge risk by rescuing him. Because I can’t help but thrill at the prospect of being near him again. Especially once he’s out of danger.

  I kneel next to the living cage and gently reach between the bars to wake Aro. He rouses slowly, but when he sees my face, his own lights up, breaking into a smile.

  “You came back,” he whispers. “I . . . I thought you left earlier.”

  I put a finger to his lips, indicating we can talk later. I use a handspell to make the living bars forming the lock on his cage unwind and recede. When I reach out my hand, Aro takes it gladly.

  The world, which feels as if it has been tilted ever since we parted in the tunnels under Palinor, now rights itself.

  I help him up and put the shield spell back in place. Hopefully no one will notice his cage is empty until morning. We walk briskly yet cautiously through the prison area. The last thing we wish to do is wake up the others and have them give us away.

  Stealth is our greatest ally. We’re stealing a prisoner from a camp full of spies.

  Aro stumbles a few times, likely because his limbs are stiff from being stuck in that cage. He wouldn’t even be in this mess if not for me.

  He’d also be dead by now, and Darian would be installed on the throne. And neither the Magi nor the Technocrats would be any wiser that they’d been played for fools.

  When we reach where Zandria waits for us in the bushes, she springs to her feet and whispers into my ear, “There are two guards now, chatting.”

  “Where’s Remy?”

  Zandria gestures up the path and we head there together . . . just as Aro steps on a branch, making it snap. My sister and I exchange a terrified look—we’ve both been casting shields, so the sound wasn’t silenced.

  “Go!” I hiss, dragging Aro along. Our shield covers all three, then four of us once we reach Remy. Zandria switches to casting the silencing spell so the guards can’t tell where we are or which way we run. Aro trips more than once, but I help him back up and keep him going as quickly as we can. We don’t stop until we’re well outside the boundary of the Magi camp.

  We keep moving at a slower pace, while Remy and Zandria split off to create a few false trails. That should throw anyone who tries to follow us off the scent. For a while anyway. It won’t take long for Isaiah to figure out who set Aro free.

  While we wait for Zandria and Remy to rejoin us, we stop to rest for a moment in a grove of trees where many low bushes with tiny white flowers grow. While last night it seemed almost normal to be chatting with Aro, now that he’s free I’m dizzily aware of every inch of distance between us. Before Aro knew what I was, I was bolder around him because I’d convinced myself I was only acting.

  But I’m not acting now, and this is no longer a game.

  A flush creeps up Aro’s neck, and he runs a hand through his pale hair. “Thank you,” he says.

  He holds out his hand to me, and I throw my arms around his neck, pressing my lips to his. Heat crawls over my skin as we kiss for the first time in what feels like forever. He kisses me back just as fiercely, his hands tightening on my hips. I never thought I’d see him again. Not really. I was sure we’d either have to live apart safely or die swiftly. Now, I never want to let him out of my sight.

  A delicious heady feeling consumes me, then . . . something else. A tug, a pull from my heart. We break apart and stare at each other. The feeling isn’t painful or pleasurable, but . . . necessary. Like there was a need unfulfilled for a long time that’s been appeased.

  “Look,” he whispers. I gasp.

  Thin, glowing threads spin between us, stemming from our hearts and twining together. The magic of the Binding rite connecting us.

  I was definitely not expecting this.

  My parents were bound, but I never saw anything like this between them when they embraced. Perhap
s it’s because we’ve been apart for a while? Or could it be due to my unique magic? Or the fact Aro is a Technocrat? Possibilities reel in my brain, but I have no answers.

  Just the glow, and the tug, and the need.

  “What’s happening?” Aro asks.

  “I’m not sure. Perhaps the spell didn’t like the distance between us for so long.”

  Aro kisses my nose, his warm breath whispering over my face. “Smart spell.” His hands slide to my waist. “Perhaps we just need to kiss more often.”

  I laugh and kiss him again for good measure, letting him fill up my senses. “It’s worth a try.” The magic’s intensity ebbs and retreats back into our chests.

  Remy clears his throat behind us, and I release Aro. I can feel my face burning, but I don’t care. Remy can think what he wants. I already know he doesn’t approve.

  “We don’t have time for this,” Remy says.

  “No, we definitely do not,” Zandria says appearing out of the shadows. “They’re already combing the woods.”

  I take Aro’s hand and flash a quick, reassuring smile in his direction. Then we flee into the night.

  CHAPTER 16

  WITH THE HELP OF A SPEED SPELL, WE make excellent time, passing the hilly and foggy area where the Sanctuary hides and cutting through the lake lands just to the south of it in a single day.

  We stop to make camp for the evening, and Remy sets up spells around the perimeter, preparing to take the first watch, while the rest of us settle down. We’re camping under an overhang hidden largely by rocks, and Zandria lays down as far from me and Aro as possible. Aro and I curl up next to each other and whisper softly for a few minutes, but it isn’t long before he is asleep too.

  However, I can’t seem to sleep. Worry plagues me. What if someone finds us while we sleep—Techno or Magi—and steals Aro back?

  I know what I must do to ease my mind.

  There’s a spell I learned at the Sanctuary—a tracking spell. If I cast it on Aro and we’re separated again, I could find him more easily. I sit up, humming the spell in the back of my throat. My magic responds, but it encounters resistance when I try to attach the spell.

  At first, I’m puzzled, then it hits me: someone else must have already cast a tracking spell on him. I shiver. It could be Darian. Or Isaiah. Maybe that’s why it was so easy to escape.

  Unsettled, I cast a cancelling spell, untying the threads of foreign magic. Then I cast my own tracking spell again, this time with success. A little bit of the tightness in my chest unwinds, but worry still gnaws at me.

  If someone put a tracking spell on Aro first, how long have they been pursuing him, and how close are they to reaching us? Sleep eventually finds me, but tonight its hold is light and fitful and uneasy.

  The next morning, we head west to the coast at a normal pace, avoiding the mountain range on the other side of the Sanctuary.

  Aro holds my hand, which lifts my spirits. He tried to thank Zandria and Remy yesterday, but they wouldn’t even look at him. If they can’t get past the fact he’s a Technocrat, it’s going to cause us to make a mistake.

  And that could be fatal.

  As we make the trek, I fill Aro in on the details he doesn’t know yet, and he tells me more about his time in Palinor after I left.

  “The Alchemist Alliance made you and your sister the way you are? No wonder Darian was so desperate to have you join his cause.” His eyes are alight with a curious glow. “I must meet this Catoria. I have many questions.”

  I grimace. “Look, you should know . . . we’re not the only ones made by the Alliance. But we are the only ones made on purpose.”

  He tilts his head with a small frown as he ducks under a low branch. He’s been gawking at the greenery all morning. He’s never seen this many living trees in one place his whole life, and the deep forest is a revelation to him. “What do you mean?”

  I swallow hard. I have no idea how he’ll react to this news, but he has a right to know. “The Heartless weren’t made by a curse. It was an accident. The Alchemist Alliance was trying to heal the rift between our peoples by putting a particular blend of alchemicals in the water supply . . . but it went horribly, unexpectedly wrong.”

  He stops and takes me by the elbow. “How did it go wrong? Do you know?” His expression is inscrutable. I can’t imagine what he must be feeling right now.

  “The alchemicals were intended to reignite the Magi gene in Technocrats while in the womb so they’d be born Magi.” I take his hand and place it over my heart. We’re close together now, our breath mingling. “Our magic is seated in our hearts. It runs through our veins. But Technocrat physiology must be a little different because when the gene reignited, the magic burned up their hearts, hence they—and you—were born Heartless. I’m sorry.”

  I hang my head, but he tilts my chin up and kisses me softly. “Thank you for telling me. It’s terrible, but no worse than what I’ve been told all my life.” He takes my hand, and we start walking again, faster now to catch up to Remy and Zandria who, unsurprisingly, haven’t waited for us. “If anything, this is better. The intentions were good, even though the results were not as expected. As a scientist, I understand that. I’ve done that. Just not on that scale, of course. This Alliance sounds remarkable,” he says.

  “They certainly are,” I agree. “We still have a lot to learn about them and what they knew. Each family had their own alchemical recipes and secret spell books to hand down to their descendants. If we’re going to take on Darian, we need more Alliance members in order to pool our knowledge and defeat him.”

  The one thing giving me hope is that we have something Darian doesn’t: the Sanctuary, with all the Magi’s lost spells and even more we never knew existed from our ancestors. We must leverage that advantage at every opportunity.

  “I’ll help in whatever way I can,” Aro says.

  Zandria and Remy are certain Aro will only be dead weight that slows us down, but I think he may give us an advantage too.

  “What do you know about the Technocrat patrols? Their search patterns? Do you think they’d range this far to the northwest?”

  “It’s unlikely. Any patrols we encounter here would’ve been assigned recently and probably aren’t familiar with the landscape or where they are going. They won’t have an edge on us.”

  “That’s good news,” I say.

  “It’s unlikely they’d take their larger mechs this far, either. Only if they had good reason to think they’d need some serious firepower.”

  I sober immediately. “Yes, like they did when they destroyed the Chambers.”

  Aro’s eyes soften. “I can’t begin to imagine the loss you’ve had to bear these past few weeks.” His face darkens after a beat. “We still need to be on our guard. This is just the sort of place they’d send their smaller, nimbler mechs.”

  “Like the seekers.” I shudder.

  Zandria glowers, but Remy smirks at us over his shoulder. “We don’t need to worry too much about those either. The other day, Aissa ripped one to shreds like it was nothing. They’re no match for our twins.”

  “When it’s just one or two, yes. But if there are enough to overpower us, that will be a problem,” I correct Remy. Zandria pulls her cloak closer and keeps walking.

  Aro laughs, running a hand through his blond hair. It’s longer than before, but it still curls at the ends against his neck. “I just realized something. Why didn’t I see this sooner? My mechs down in the tunnels that were mysteriously taken to pieces—that was you two, wasn’t it?”

  I can’t help smirking. “It was. Sorry about that.”

  My sister snorts. “Not sorry at all. We couldn’t let you find the Magi room hidden in the tunnels. We had to do something.”

  “Why were you down there?” I ask Aro, something I’ve wondered for a long time.

  “Darian, actually. He told me he’d heard the Magi had a power source that had been buried beneath the Palace. He thought it might be accessible through the drainage tun
nels and gave me just enough to push me in the right direction. When I realized someone else was down there, I felt certain I was on the right path. I had no idea it wasn’t a power source at all, but your library.”

  “Yes, I suppose a Technocrat wouldn’t know that particular rumor. Darian really was playing all of us like his own personal orchestra.” I squeeze my free hand into a fist, then release my breath slowly, letting my rising magic ebb back into my core.

  “Yes, he played us all for fools once. But he never will again,” Aro says. He kisses my knuckles, sending shivers up and down my spine.

  If only we weren’t on the run and we were traveling alone . . .

  Soon we reach a place where the trees break and we can see all the way to the horizon. The beach is far below us, and the way down is almost vertical. We’ll have to double back and find a safer path.

  “This way looks quickest,” Zandria says, and leads us down a steep pathway to the beach. We reach the sands, and I can’t help but marvel at the expanse before us. We’ve heard of the ocean before and seen drawings and paintings, but this is the first time Zandria or I have ever set eyes on it. It’s immense. Deep and vast.

  But something is missing.

  “Where’s the island?” I say. “This is where Catoria said it would be.”

  “Maybe it’s hidden?” Aro suggests.

  Remy’s eyes light up. “If that’s the case, we can find it with an elemental spell.” He wades into the water up to his ankles and then begins to cast. I know just what he’s doing. He’s using his magic to look for spikes in the earth element out over the water. A sizable spike could mean an island.

  Remy drifts down the beach, testing with his magic, until he suddenly stops. “Here!” he cries.

  My pulse speeds up as we join him. We may have just found Owen’s home. Now we need to find Owen himself.

  “We need a boat,” Zandria says, voicing all of our thoughts.

  “Owen’s parents were captured by the Technocrats not long after they came ashore the last time,” I say. “Maybe their boat is stowed somewhere nearby?”