Idriel's Children (Odriel's Heirs Book 2)

by Hayley Reese Chow

  “That’s because you’re a Maldibor,” she whispered. “Your honor demands—”

  “No,” he interrupted, his voice harsh. “I rushed the blade because you were my friend.” His voice fell again, his eyes boring into her. “But now all you do is push me away.”

  She took in a breath, his closeness making her head spin. She stood frozen in place as she resisted the urge to forget the danger and curl her arms around him. “I just wanted you to be safe, Keo…”

  The Time Heir’s last flat words to Aza’s parents echoed in her mind, “You think it’s a gift, but we’re all cursed. Death follows us like a sickness. If to be an Heir is to die young, tortured at the hands of monsters, then my daughter will not be one.”

  “…And the Maldibor aren’t the only ones who are cursed.”

  He grinned with a broad radiant gleam.

  “Are you laughing?” She slipped her hand from his. “I’m being serious.”

  His smile only grew. “Then you haven’t learned the first thing about being a Maldibor.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “The cursed stick together. It’s the only defense against our tarnished fate. Otherwise, you’re letting the curse win.”

  She turned away from him but said nothing, his lightness pulling at her. His every word chipped away at her battered walls even as she fought to keep them up… but she was just so tired.

  “Am I not worthy of your trust?” He moved to face her again, tension building in his muscled shoulders.

  “Of course I trust you.”

  “Do you doubt my strength? My speed?” He snatched the dagger from her belt and twirled it in a hand.

  “It’s not you I don’t trust, Keo.” She swept her hair from her forehead, the pain between her temples throbbing. “It’s me.”

  The words were out before she could catch them, and her eyes widened at the truth of them.

  “Ah.” Makeo softened instantly, the lines in his face smoothing.

  “If you rush the blade for me again…” She shook her head, the night air blowing cold on her cheeks. “What if I can’t protect you?”

  He took a step closer, her blade still in hand. “What if I can’t protect you?”

  “You don’t need to worry about that,” she scoffed, kicking at the ground. “I can protect myself.”

  He leaned close and slid the dagger into the sheath at her hip. “Exactly.” Holding her gaze, he offered his hand. “A dance to stretch your legs?”

  The gesture unknotted something in her, and Aza looked around the deserted cliffside. All lights but the one in the highest building had been extinguished, and only the ruffling of the grizzards punctured the silence. “This doesn’t feel like the place for a dance.” Even as she said it, she placed her hand in his broad palm.

  He pulled her closer, his other hand resting in the curve of her side. “It’s not the place that matters, it’s the people.” With that, he began to hum the soft lilting tune from her dream.

  Her shoulders relaxed with the melody, and she pressed into the warmth of Makeo’s chest. A rush of relief heated her fingers to her toes, like the feeling of coming home. “I like that one.”

  “Do you remember the words?” Makeo rumbled in her ear.

  “Just snatches.”

  He nodded, his cheek resting against her hair. “It’s the tale of Elika and his love, Janess.”

  “Love at first sight, I’m sure.” Aza wrinkled her nose; all the old tales were like that.

  He chuckled. “Not at all. They say Janess spurned him the first time for his impertinence.”

  Aza met his glance, his face inches from hers. “Did she?”

  “And she spurned him the second time for fear of what Ivanora would do to him.” Makeo moved them with slow smooth steps, the melody seeming to echo in the still night, but perhaps just in Aza’s thoughts. “She only accepted him after he confessed his feelings to Ivanora and turned him into the beast.”

  Aza’s lips twisted. “You don’t think it’s because she felt sorry for him, do you?”

  “After she found out what Ivanora had done, Janess took up a sword in Elika’s defense.” He shrugged. “Does that sound like pity to you?”

  “No. It sounds like my kind of story.” A wry smile lifted the corner of Aza’s mouth. “It’s a wonder Ivanora didn’t curse her as well.”

  “Elika stopped Janess before she could go through with it.”

  Ah. That made sense. Ivanora would probably curse a child for toddling on her shadow.

  “So, Janess went to Everard instead, and at her prodding, he made the bargain.”

  Aza nodded, her scarred cheek pressed against Makeo’s scarred chest. “A human night every dark moon in exchange for passing on the curse.”

  “It was a mistake.”

  Aza stopped. “What do you mean?”

  “The curse could have died with Elika, but instead it spread through generations. It was a selfish choice.” He pulled away from her, and Aza immediately missed his touch. “We should go in. It’s too cold to stay out here.”

  Aza snatched at his wrist, her words still forming in the muddle of her slowed mind. “Okarria is a better place for Everard’s bargain.”

  When he didn’t speak, she rubbed her hands up the goosebumps of his bare arms. “You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t cursed, Makeo.”

  He tried a sagging smile. “Perhaps. But maybe we’d be happier somewhere else.” He put a large hand over hers, something unreadable flashing in his eyes. “You know, I transformed only a few months after… that night. I was so worried of what you would think when you came back.” He tapped his fingers nervously against hers. “But then you never did.”

  Aza swallowed, the guilt thickening with the pain in her head. She couldn’t imagine how hard that must’ve been. He had been brought to the brink of death, turned into a beast, and she had turned away from him. Just like his scummy father. In his darkest moment, she hadn’t been there.

  “I told myself I should be relieved that you didn’t have to see me that way. With the curse, we could never be…”

  He shook his head, his cheeks burning red with the confession, and something in Aza shuddered with the unsaid words. Defiant almost. Of course, they couldn’t be, but not because of some jealous magus’ curse.

  “But I still missed you,” he breathed.

  And then Aza couldn’t stop herself anymore. She laced her arms around his neck and pulled him close. He stiffened at first, as if surprised by her embrace, and then hesitantly wove his arms around her. Together, they swayed, still locked in the dance of the moonless night.

  “I didn’t know,” she said into his chest. “I’m so sorry I…” The words were on the tip of her tongue. The ones she knew she should say. The truth. I missed you too. More than you could ever know. But for some reason, they wouldn’t budge. Her cheek brushed against his, his lips so close to hers, and all she had to do was turn her head… and they would meet.

  She trembled with the want of it.

  But she couldn’t. She would not.

  So she gave him a different truth instead. “I was never a good friend.”

  He snorted, and then threw his head back, chuckling deep in his chest.

  Aza looked up at him, her cheeks burning. “What? I’m serious. Why do you keep laughing when I’m being serious?”

  His grin broadened. “For a Shadow Heir, you’re a terrible liar.”

  He gazed down at her, his face now only a hands-breadth from hers, and any retort she had dried up on her tongue.

  “Do you remember the first time you saw me as a beast?”

  Aza shuffled her feet. Of course, she did. He had come to the festival with his uncle, Tekoa. More than a head taller and nearly unrecognizable, except for the slant of his shoulders and the way he cocked his head when he laughed, his left ear flopping in the breeze just as his mop of hair had once done. It had been almost a year since she had last seen him, but in Catalede there was nowhere to hide. So
she’d stood at the gate and greeted them. Cold. Business-like. As she would a stranger. Trying to prove to herself she could do it. That she could keep him away—keep him safe.

  “When I changed, my own sister didn’t recognize me.” He ran a finger along her cheek. “So, how did you know me right away?”

  Because she had been looking for him. She rested her head on his chest, strangely breathless. “I don’t miss much.”

  “You saw through the beast to the real me,” he whispered. “You always have. And that’s why I’ll be here for you before all others.”

  Even as she tried to brace the walls that she’d built, she could feel them crumbling away in her hands. She turned her face to his, and then clear as anything, a ghostly voice rang through the air.

  “Here, Shadow, Shadow, Shadow…”

  Aza broke away, her heart leaping into her throat. “Did you hear that?

  Makeo tensed beside her, his head swiveling. “Hear what? What is it?”

  “A voice. You didn’t hear it?” Aza’s pulse pounded in her ears, the world turning silvery once more, as if the Shadow Plane were sucking her in. Had that been real? Or had she imagined it?

  Green eyes shining with worry, Makeo took one of her shaking hands in his. “You really should rest, Aza. You’re not yourself.”

  Even as he said it, a spike of pain lanced through her head, ricocheting through her body. She winced with a grimace, her shoulders shuddering. “I… okay… yeah. You’re probably right.” He led her back to the room, and her gaze swept the silver fog one more time, the whispers once again rustling on the wind.

  What was happening to her?

  ✽✽✽

  Aza woke with a gasp and rivulets of sweat coursing down her temple, adrenaline churning her fried thoughts into drivels of panic. Zephyr bleeding in the dark. The children’s cries. Mogens’ rasping voice. “What’s happening, what’s happening, what’s happening?” Her hands scrambled at her mat in a frantic madness. “The Shadow Plane. I need the Shadow Plane. I need to see. I’ll hear them. I have to know.”

  Smooth, warm hands gripped her arms. “Aza, wake up, Aza!” Still in his human form, Makeo’s emerald eyes peered into hers. “It’s okay. You’re safe here.”

  “No, no, no, no, no, no,” she muttered, her whole body shaking and her eyes rolling. “You don’t understand. They’re in trouble, Makeo. My brother, your tribe. They were in the forest, and his fire went out. Something got to them. I know it did. I have to see.”

  “It was just a nightmare, Aze,” Makeo said.

  “No!” she shook her head back and forth, furious and desperate. “It couldn’t have been. It was real. It was real. It was real.” She looked up at him, the Shadow Plane already sucking her back into the fold of its arms, dragging her away. Like she was the prisoner instead of a master. “I have to know. Now. I have to.”

  With that, she gathered the shadows and opened the door, leaving Makeo and plunging into the Plane where her brother’s voice waited for her. She raced toward it feverishly, consumed with guilt and fear and desperation. “Zephyr!”

  “They have to run, or we’ll never make it.” Strain cracked his voice. “They’re coming from all directions. Get behind me.”

  “Zephyr!” she screamed again in the void of black.

  “I’ll burn this whole cursed forest down if I have to.”

  “Can you hear me?” Aza called, still running.

  “Hoku! They took her,” Zephyr yelled. “You two, go after her, I can’t leave these children. Hoku!”

  She stopped, falling to her knees with the agonized realization that there was nothing she could do to help him here.

  “No one else leaves! We’ve lost too many already. If we don’t get out of here soon, we won’t make—” A strangling gurgle cut off his words, and his voice disintegrated into the wind.

  “No!” Aza leaned into it, straining for more. Was he there? What had happened? Were they in the forest like she had heard? Was it already too late? She curled her trembling fingers into fists.

  Distantly, an unhinged laughter shook the air—raspy and cruel and familiar. Mogens.

  And a certainty hardened in her core. He was coming for her. Whatever they were planning had already begun.

  Aza didn’t know how long she sat there with that one dismal thought echoing in her empty mind, her yanaa slowly trickling out of her as the worm wraiths snaked up her boots.

  When a hand squeezed her shoulder she jumped to her feet with a whirl, daggers out and ready to fight whatever had found her in this strange land.

  Her eyes widened. “Keo? Is this a dream? How are you here?”

  Chest heaving, Makeo staggered before her in his gray robes, his body tense among the swaying grass. “I can only cross for very short times, but I needed to make sure you were okay.” He took her hand, his blond hair falling across his intense gaze. “You’ve been here for over an hour, Aze. Let’s go back.”

  “Did you hear them?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Did you hear the screams?”

  His lips tightened, and he squeezed her hand. “C’mon, Aze. Please.”

  She nodded dumbly, the shock freezing her arms and legs and thoughts. Summoning the door, she stumbled through it almost without thinking. The shadows faded, and she was back on her bedroll with a weary Makeo in front of her. Shad and Witt crowded in behind him with worried expressions.

  Witt opened his mouth. “Are you okay?”

  “No,” Aza said, still in the fog she couldn’t quite shake.

  “What happened?” Shad asked, leaning forward.

  “My brother is in danger. The Maldibor are screaming. The children are…” She trailed off, her urgency returning as their cries echoed in her mind. “You have to go to them.”

  “Then you must come too.” Makeo squeezed his forehead, unused to the toll of the Shadow Plane.

  “Not yet,” she whispered. “I have to find Seela. I have to free Silvix. I can’t leave without the answers I came for. Otherwise their sacrifice would all be for nothing.”

  “We won’t leave without you, Aza,” Witt said, running an anxious hand through his curls.

  “We can wait—” Makeo started.

  “No!” She snapped to her feet. “Your people are dying, Makeo. You heard them screaming. Some are probably already gone. I will not be the reason you were too late to save them.” Not with Mogens coming after her. Not again. Makeo needed to be anywhere but here, and she would say anything to make that happen. Because this time, there would be no healing Heir to save him.

  “Aze…” he tried, his voice still soft. “I’m just one person.”

  The tenderness almost broke her, but then she remembered how he’d lain on the forest floor, the dark crimson blood pooling around him. No.

  “Leave, Keo. I don’t want you here. I never wanted you here,” she said through gritted teeth, backing toward the door. “How many times do I have to say it? A reeking beast, an old one-eyed stray, and a kitchen maid? Useless. What have you done for me?” She pointed to each of them, her sharp double-edged words cutting into her even as she lashed out. But she had to get them away from her. “I don’t want any of you.”

  She tried not to look at their betrayed faces. She didn’t want to see the hurt flashing from one to the other like a lightning storm—the sorrow that shone in Witt’s eyes or the way that Shad leaned away from her, like a cowed kitten. But she couldn’t look away as Makeo’s warm and welcoming face turned hard as stone.

  He nodded, his smooth voice almost too quiet for her ears. “If that’s what you want.”

  “More than anything,” she said, her voice too loud in the quiet.

  And with that, she turned her back on them and walked away.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Free

  Aza stood in the Shadow Plane once again, trying to erase the raw memory of Makeo climbing the cliffside without her, with Shad in the crook of his arm and Witt probably pulling up the rear somewhere out of sight. Aft
er they’d come all this way, stayed by her side, believed in her… And she had turned on them like a rabid dog. How they must despise her now. The thought rolled through her with an aching nausea.

  But with Mogens so close, this was the only way she knew to protect them. And there was one more thing she needed to do before he arrived.

  Seela appeared in front of her. “You called for me.”

  Aza met her strangely steely gaze. “I want to free Silvix from the Dolobra.” She looked away at the lonely Plane, trying to collect the thoughts that seemed to spool away in the space between life and death. “If I free him, perhaps he may yet hold answers for me.”

  A cold smile curved Seela’s lips—almost smug. “That’s noble of you, Shadow Heir.”

  “How do I call the Dolobra?”

  “Defeated as it is, the Dolobra cannot be called.” She beckoned with a curt hand. “But I can take you to where Silvix has caged it.”

  As they walked through the Plane, an uncomfortable feeling nagged at the edge of Aza’s mind, like a child pulling on its mother’s skirt. Freeing Silvix was exactly what she should be doing. Seela had even suggested it. So why did she feel so ill at ease? Over the past couple weeks, she had grown accustomed to the tolls and oddities of the Shadow Plane. So surely it wasn’t that. Unless there was something different on the wind today.

  She wished Makeo were here. Perhaps he’d be able to tell her what was true and what was just a figment of her tired mind. Because she was tired. Makeo had been right. This place had mashed and drained her thoughts into a weak, cold soup. She practically longed for the burn of her muscles, to see the problem—the enemy—clearly in front of her.

  Spending so much time here among the shades of gray seemed to have leeched the very color from herself, and she wholly understood how Silvix could’ve lost his mind to it. How much time did she have left before she suffered the same fate?

  But she couldn’t stop. Not now. Not when she was still so close. She would get her answers, she would find Mogens, and then she could rejoin the others. She had to.