Heartless Heirs

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Heartless Heirs Page 23

by MarcyKate Connolly


  Zandria groans, and I break off the kiss just in time to see her following Remy out the door. Vivienne laughs.

  “She really isn’t a fan, is she?” Vivienne says.

  I release Aro’s hand. “No, it’s hard for her to see any Technocrat in a positive light. Aro most of all.”

  Vivienne’s face quickly sobers. “I can understand that.”

  I follow Zandria and Remy, and we make our way to the surface quickly. With our cloaks up to ward off the rain, we hurry toward the sector of town where Owen and I last glimpsed Isaiah. We approach the house I saw him enter just in time to see Isaiah walking away from it.

  “There he is,” I hiss, and my companions suck their breath in sharply. We hurry to intercept him before he disappears down an alleyway. His eyes widen when he sees us approaching, then his expression quickly becomes a scowl.

  Isaiah strides up to us purposely. “I see you found me.” He gives us all a once-over, his eyes lingering on his son. “What is it you want? You’ve made it clear you’re not working with the rest of your people.”

  “We want to know what you’re doing in Palinor,” I say through gritted teeth.

  Isaiah smiles. “Advancing my plans, of course. To free our prisoners and unite all the Magi.” He looks at Zandria and Remy. “You’re welcome to join me.”

  “You’re still planning to make examples out of the Technocrats you’ve captured outside the city walls?” I shiver but do my best not to let it show. Now more than ever, it’s critical that Isaiah not believe me weak.

  He tilts his head. “Minus one prisoner.” He narrows his eyes at me. “One you took a particular interest in.”

  I shrug. “I can’t imagine what you mean.”

  “That’s it?” Remy says. “That’s your whole plan? What if it doesn’t work?”

  “That’s true,” Zandria says. “The Technos are cruel. They won’t care if a few of their people die.”

  “And Darian isn’t just going to release the prize prisoners he needs for his own plans without a fight,” I add.

  “Darian doesn’t have any prize prisoners. I don’t know what you think you heard or saw, but you were gravely mistaken.” Isaiah scowls deeper. “The negotiation is proving harder than I’d hoped. But I have a backup plan.”

  Zandria folds her arms over her chest, though the keen interest in her eyes is unmistakable. I worry that the only thing preventing her from joining in Isaiah’s plans is fear of what Aro dying will mean for me.

  It chills me more than I’m prepared for.

  “What is this backup plan, Father?” Remy asks.

  “We will sink the city.”

  Shock steals my voice for a few beats too long. Zandria recovers first. “How?”

  Isaiah raises an eyebrow. “I have more than enough Magi survivors gathered. We’ll combine our magics and create a massive earthquake. We may not be able to touch their walls or machines with our spells, but nothing can stop us from digging into the earth beneath their feet.” The fervor in Isaiah’s eyes is disturbing. He usually seems cold as ice, but in this moment he’s running fever hot.

  The destruction of the Chambers has scarred him in some deep way. Making him willing to go to lengths he never would’ve considered before. The spell he’s speaking of must be powerful indeed, and to join all those Magi together in casting a single spell is a dangerous, risky move. For more than just the Technocrats. I’ve seen the Magi who are left. Many of them are injured. Many more were not trained to fight physically or magically. They’re in no condition to cast a spell of that magnitude. He could do some of them permanent harm.

  It’s a desperate move. From a man desperate for revenge.

  I remember not long ago Zandria compared me to him. My drive to be a good spy, to bring glory and power to my people, blinded me to the truth for far too long. Now, between Aro and the Alchemist Alliance, my eyes have been opened.

  But Isaiah is completely unwilling to hear the truth.

  “That’s crazy,” I say at the same time Zandria says, “That’s brilliant.”

  I give her a sharp glance, but she ignores me.

  “As I said before, if you wish to join us and help ruin the Technocrats, I’d welcome you all. Despite your past transgressions.” He glances at me. I can’t help smirking. “With our numbers so few, it’s more important than ever that all Magi band together against our common enemy.”

  Zandria and Remy exchange a look—one I do not like at all.

  “We’ll consider it,” Remy says. “But I wish you’d heed what we’ve told you about Darian. We’re not lying, and we’re not mistaken.” Remy lowers his voice. “You taught me well, Father. Do you really think I’d make a mistake like this? Falsely accuse one of our own if it were not wholly warranted?”

  Isaiah doesn’t waver in his determination. He really is made of steel and ice. Strange how he and the Technocrat king and queen have that in common.

  Isaiah meets his son’s gaze directly. “I know Darian. I’ve known him for his entire life. He is the most dedicated Magi I’ve ever met. Anything you may have mistaken for betrayal was simply a part of his cover with the Technocrats. A ruse. He’s in a sensitive position there; this would not be the first time he’s taken steps to preserve appearances.”

  My mouth drops open, but I quickly snap it shut. Of course this wouldn’t be the first time Darian has “preserved appearances.” I shouldn’t be surprised. Who knows how long he’s been experimenting on other Magi?

  His betrayal is definitely not some ruse. It’s the only true thing about the man. But judging by the expressions on Zandria’s and Remy’s faces, it almost seems as though they want to believe that could be the case. Alarm bells ring in the back of my brain. I need to get them away from Isaiah and remind them of all Darian has done to us before Isaiah convinces them I’m wrong. For Anvil’s sake, Darian murdered our parents.

  “That’s an absurd lie, and you should know it,” I say, clenching my fists hard enough that my nails dig into my palms. “And that plan is insane. You’ll kill everyone if you sink the city. Including us.”

  Isaiah’s eyes glow. “The plan is perfectly sound. It will ensure the reign of the Technocrats comes to a complete and unequivocal end. There will not be many survivors. And we can pick off any that do survive at the edges of the sunken city if they try to escape. The Magi will finally resume our rightful place. We can heal these lands and restore balance. This has always been our goal. Now we are on the verge of success.”

  His voice is frighteningly calm. I grab my sister by the arm. “We’re leaving.”

  But Zandria doesn’t budge just yet. My heart sinks into my boots.

  “If we want to find you, where are you and the Magi?” Zandy asks.

  Isaiah smiles. “In the woods, to the west and deep enough that the real trees still prevail.”

  She nods, and glances at Remy again. He stares at his father. I yank on Zandria’s arm this time, and that manages to break Isaiah’s hold. As we finally take our leave, Isaiah calls after us.

  “Consider this seriously. Because I’m very serious about what we plan to do.”

  I shiver under my cloak, then practically drag Zandria and Remy away from Isaiah. It isn’t long before my sister shrugs me off.

  “Where are you going, Aissa?” she asks. “This isn’t even the way back to—”

  “I know,” I hiss. “I don’t want Isaiah to have any idea where our hideout is. He might get ideas about recapturing Aro. Then he’d discover Vivienne. And Leon.” I throw my hands up. Zandria raises an eyebrow at me, but Remy scowls at the ground.

  “He definitely wouldn’t be thrilled with all the Technocrats you’ve befriended,” Zandria says huffily. “It’s unwise.”

  “Well, he is wrong about wanting to sink the city. That’s ridiculous and dangerous,” I retort, checking over my shoulder. Isaiah hasn’t moved far from where we left him.

  “I don’t know. I think my father has a point, Aissa,” Remy says.

 
“About what?” I bristle.

  “What if this is the only way to end the Technos’ rule? They have a stranglehold on these lands, and they bring destruction wherever they go. His plan may be a big move, but it would end them.”

  “I agree,” Zandria says.

  I gawk at them in horror. “What about the Alliance?

  My sister shrugs. “All the Alliance has to offer besides the library of spells is a dream. Living in harmony with them is a nice thought, but it’s not reasonable, Aissa. It never was.”

  “Not reasonable?” My voice takes on a higher pitch. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “I thought we agreed to undermine the Technocrats. Turn the people against them?”

  “And how long will that take?” Zandria says. “The Armory already spent decades working a long game. Look where it got them.”

  Remy nods. “The same could happen to us. There isn’t time for a long-term plan. We need to take quick, decisive, drastic action. Now.”

  “But we know the Technos aren’t all bad! It’s the ones in power who need to be taken out, not everyone else!” I try to keep my voice down, but it’s getting harder. Beyond my sister and Remy, I can see Isaiah standing under an awning, watching us curiously. My entire body feels like it’s on fire. “What about Vivienne? She just saved our lives the other night!”

  Regret flickers over Remy’s face for a fleeting moment, but then his expression hardens again.

  Zandria folds her arms across her chest. “She’s still one of them.”

  “She can leave the city before we attack,” Remy says.

  “How can you even consider this? He’s working with Darian—the man who murdered our parents and tried to kill us too, for Anvil’s sake!” Fury builds inside my chest.

  “Yes, my father is wrong about Darian, we’re not arguing that point,” Remy says. He exchanges a glance with Zandria. “But I think his solution is what we need.”

  “You’re seriously going to switch sides after talking to your daddy for five minutes?” I spit out.

  Remy’s face grows red. “Look—I’m going to the Magi camp. You and anyone else you want to live need to leave the city too. And soon.”

  Hot rage billows within me, but I hold it inside. “What about the Magi we’ve saved from the dungeons who’ve sworn loyalty to the Alchemist Alliance? Did what we learned at the Sanctuary have no impact on you? Mean nothing to you?”

  His face softens. “Of course it did. But we still don’t have enough Magi standing with us, and we’re never going to be able to win all the Technos to our side. The royals will kill us as soon as listen to us.”

  “The only way we can reclaim this city for our own is to raze it to the ground,” Zandria says.

  The blood drains from my face. “Sister, we’ve been the Magi’s Twin Daggers, to be directed by the Armory Council. We were almost forced to be Darian’s Twin Daggers, to strike at both the Technocrats and our own people. Don’t you see? Everyone else wants to use us. Even the Alliance created us for a purpose. This time we get to choose what we’ll be. Please don’t let Isaiah dictate the terms of your existence once again.”

  Zandria gives me the strangest look, and I don’t know what to make of it. Part rage, part despair. All I know is that it means she’s slipping away from me.

  “You’re right. I am deciding my own fate this time. No one—not Isaiah, Darian, or even you—gets to make that choice for me. I won’t stand with the people who tortured me. Who would kill me as soon as look at me.” She glances at Remy. “I’m going too. I hope you come to your senses soon, Aissa. Before it’s too late.”

  Horror shudders through me. I can’t quite wrap my head around what Zandy just said. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Oh, I am. I get why Aro must live, though I still think the reason for it is crazy. But the rest of the Technos? They can burn in the forges for all I care.”

  She spins on her heel and marches toward where Isaiah waits before I can say another word. My whole body feels frozen, as if someone cast an ice spell over me.

  “I should go with her,” Remy says, not meeting my eyes. He hurries after my sister.

  My legs feel weak, but I manage to stay upright. I knew Zandria was struggling to come to terms with what we are and how we came to be. With what the Alchemist Alliance created us to do. I’ve struggled with it myself. It’s an enormous responsibility—if not an outright impossible one.

  But those odds have never daunted us before.

  I can only stare, close-lipped, as Isaiah welcomes my sister and my friend, then leads them out of the city.

  I don’t know if any of Isaiah’s lackeys are out and about in Palinor, so I take precautions to ensure I’m not followed back to the base. I duck down a few dark alleys and double back more than once until I’m satisfied that if anyone was following me, they’d be hopelessly lost by now. Then I finally head back toward the tunnel entrance.

  Somehow I manage to keep my composure until I’m safely back underground, hidden away behind our magic-infused marble fortress. Then the dam breaks.

  I slide down the wall, tears running down my face. My breath is so tight, I can’t even make a sound while I cry.

  But Aro senses my distress nonetheless. It feels as if my heart is breaking; perhaps our bond can share emotional pain as well as physical. He sits next to me on the floor, pulling me onto his lap. “What happened?” he whispers. “Where are Zandria and Remy?”

  “They decided to join Isaiah.”

  I can feel Aro choke on his breath. He’s as shocked as I am by the news. Then his arms wrap more tightly around me. For a moment, I let myself curl into him and the comfort there.

  But comfort isn’t what I need right now. It isn’t going to change anything.

  I disentangle myself when my tears stop flowing.

  “I’m sorry, I need to be alone right now,” I say. I rise and head into the makeshift room I share with Aro. He doesn’t say anything, just gives me the space I requested. I know he’ll be there when I need him. But right now, I have to think. Short of physically preventing her from leaving, there was nothing I could do to stop my sister from joining Isaiah’s mob.

  Now I understand that look she gave me. She may be covering it up with rage and sadness, but what really lies underneath is fear. It’s driving her to save her own skin and cast off that unwanted—and until recently, entirely unknown—responsibility.

  Opening my pack, I pull out the Alchemist Alliance journal I found in this same place so many weeks ago. Tucked inside is my parents’ last letter to me and my sister, with our unique alchemical recipe on the back. I open it, smoothing it out on my knee. It’s worn from being read over and over. The edges are beginning to fray.

  Even our parents believed the Technocrats were beyond redemption, if this letter is any indication. But while the people who live in this city now may cheer at the Royal Victory Parade and dance at the ball, they weren’t alive during the wars. They weren’t the ones who wrought our destruction and devastated the world, driving us underground. They’re the grandchildren and great-grandchildren of those who did. As far as they know, the Magi are little more than a myth now.

  They have no idea we’re still here, plotting to destroy everything they love.

  To do to them what they did to us.

  As much as I hate the Technocrats who are responsible for hurting us in the present—like the royals and those who aid them in their torture—the other thousands of people who live here are innocent. Sinking the city and killing them isn’t justice. It isn’t even revenge.

  It’s murder.

  The Alchemist Alliance understood that. That’s why they had both Technocrats and Magi in their numbers. They wanted to save their world. Prevent a tragedy from happening.

  They failed. And now it falls to us to pick up the pieces and prevent a second one.

  Neither the Magi nor the Technocrats are innocent, and both factions must be willing to come together. We’ve made some headway with the redistributi
on of money, but we need something more. Something bigger.

  A sudden urgency fills me. I know better than to try to change Zandy’s mind again; she’s as stubborn as I am. She’ll have to see the truth in her own time and on her own terms. I hope it won’t be too late by the time that happens.

  But what worries me most is that she’ll try to take more of our allies with her. This couldn’t have been as spur of the moment as it seemed.

  I leave my room, blowing right by Aro lingering nearby. I hurry to find Owen. He was on guard duty last I saw him before we left in search of Isaiah, and I’m relieved to find him in the tunnels still at his post. He frowns when he sees me.

  “Your sister and Remy . . . they haven’t returned yet,” he says.

  “I know.” I put a hand on his shoulder. “They’re letting their hatred rule them. They’re abandoning the Alliance.”

  Owen’s eyes widen. “They joined that man Isaiah?”

  I sigh.

  “I never thought your sister would leave you like that.”

  I give a sad half laugh. “Neither did I. But she has, and now we must do what we can to stop them from carrying out their plans. They’re going to sink the city.”

  His eyes widen. He begins to say something, then stops. Then does it again. His face reddens.

  “What is it?” I ask him, apprehension filling me.

  “Are . . . are Zandria and Remy . . . betrothed?” Owen asks.

  A surprised laugh bursts from my mouth before I can stop it. “No, not that either of them has told me, at least.”

  How did I not see this before? Owen has a crush on my sister. They’ve grown closer ever since we rescued him from his island. The poor boy. She must not return his feelings. If she did, I know my sister well enough to know she’d have said or done something to try to bring him with her.

  “I’m sorry, she’s a terrible flirt. And she loves to practice. I’m sure she had no idea that you have . . . feelings for her.”

  At this Owen’s face reddens deeper, and he stares at his shoes. “I see.”

  Now I feel terrible. “Would you like something to take your mind off this?” He nods curtly.

  “Excellent. I have a plan.”

 

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