A Dark Inheritance

by Todd Herzman

  ‘And they can cause lightning?’

  Aralia shook her head. ‘Some can, most can’t. Most who find they have a magical Affinity never learn more beyond the one they’re naturally gifted.’ Sparks flashed in her hand. ‘Arin can make light, and bring darkness, but nothing more than that. She can do amazing things with her Affinity, but never unlocked anything else. It’s unusual anyone untrained ever does.’

  ‘Controlling wind and lightning, they’re two different powers?’

  ‘They’re related.’ Aralia tilted her head. ‘In a way. But the powers you used on the Serpentine? Sparks, light, flames… I’ve never seen those Affinities go together before. And I’ve never seen anyone use more than one Affinity without intense training.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘I don’t know. It doesn’t change that you have absolutely no control over your powers, but it does make me wonder what you’re capable of.’ Aralia turned and faced the waves. ‘First things first, you need to learn how to summon your powers on purpose, without the need for an emotional outburst. If I were you, I’d try summoning the light to begin with.’ She pulled a small bag from her coat and dropped it on the sand before walking toward the cave entrance.

  ‘Wait, where are you going?’

  ‘To the village. I’ll be back when the sun goes down.’

  ‘I thought you were going to train me. What kind of lesson is this?’

  ‘A lesson in patience. I can’t train you until you can summon your powers at will. Close your eyes, breathe, and focus. It’ll come. There’s food in the bag.’

  Aralia disappeared into the cavern. Ella slumped onto the sand and put her head in her hands. She rubbed her eyes, still not fully awake despite the hour of walking. Was Aralia really going to leave her here alone, all day? What was she supposed to do by herself?

  A few minutes passed until she realised she wouldn’t be able to make it back through the caves by herself if she tried. Aralia hadn’t left her with a torch, and even if she had, the way had been winding. She’d lose herself in the tunnels. Ella was stuck here for the rest of the day. She waited until her anger and frustration subsided before giving in and doing as Aralia had instructed.

  Close your eyes, breathe, and focus.

  She put her hands on her knees and shut her eyes. She breathed, and focused, but couldn’t block out all the sounds and scents from the beach. The waves crashed. Seagulls called to one another. The wind blew in the ocean air. She couldn’t focus on her breath, so she focused on the sounds instead. The sounds soothed her, relaxed her…

  Her head drooped before she jerked back awake. She blinked at the sun and stood. She brushed off some sand and walked down the beach. Her feet sunk on each step. It brought her back to that first day they’d landed here. She’d never even seen a witch before then. Now she was one. Assuming she could figure out how to control her powers.

  It would be hours until the sun went down. Ella worried she’d fall back to sleep if she sat and shut her eyes again. She walked until the little beach met its end, then climbed halfway up the side of the mountain. A little ledge, about three strides wide and two strides out, jutted from the rock wall. She sat on the ledge and stared at the drop to the ground.

  Her heartbeat quickened. Falling asleep here would be a bad idea.

  Ella closed her eyes. She breathed in, and out. The waves crashed. The seagulls called. The wind brought in the ocean air. And the fear of plunging to her death kept her from falling asleep.

  The last time she’d closed her eyes like this and focused hard, she’d made a connection with Ruben’s mind. She’d seen the man with the red eyes—Renial. The enormity of the task ahead threatened to overwhelm her in that moment. Saving her brother was proving to be a lot harder than she’d ever thought it would be.

  One step at a time. That’s what Ruben would say, when he was working on something in his forge. Sometimes, looking at the whole picture was too overwhelming—you had to look at each hammer strike.

  The first step toward saving Ruben was learning to control her powers, and to do that she would need to summon them. She didn’t have to be a master in an instant—she just had to magically make light sprout from her hands.

  Breathe and focus, she thought. Breathe and focus—but focus on what?

  Ella sat like that for a long time. She kept trying to focus but wasn’t sure what she was supposed to be focusing on. Anytime her head threatened to drop, she forced her eyes open to look over the cliff’s edge at how far there was to fall.

  She sighed and stared at her hands. The last time she’d done this by accident. It hadn’t taken her closing her eyes and focusing on whatever it was she was supposed to be focusing on. She had just done it, naturally, like breathing. The anger had unlocked it, but surely there was another way to bring out her powers.

  Her hands had grown calloused from her practice with the sword—a practice that had slowed to a stop once her powers had manifested—and from climbing ropes aboard the Serpentine. She examined the callouses. They reminded her of Ruben’s hands. The way he swung a hammer… he’d be so much better at swinging a sword than her.

  Could these hands really call light? Summon fire? Make sparks fly? She’d done it before. She hadn’t been able to stop it—it had taken going unconscious to shut off her powers.

  Ella thought of Arin, the woman with the light in her hands, the way it had flowed so strongly when she tended to her plants. The light had been beautiful. Not threatening, not dangerous. Ella imagined that light in herself. She breathed in, breathed out. She didn’t close her eyes but instead stared intently at her hands, the lines on her palms, the rough callouses. She imagined the light springing forth from within.

  A flash blinded her. Ella clasped her eyes shut. When she opened her eyes, just a fraction, she smiled wide.

  Her palms glowed.

  The light grew until she had to shut her eyes again. It became brighter and brighter until it forced its way through her eyelids, and it felt like she stared into the sun. She turned from the light and focused back on her breath, imagining her hands as just her hands. Her breath came shallow and fast, her heart beating strong against her chest. She dared not move, lest she fall off the ledge she could no longer see.

  Ella calmed herself. The light dimmed. She opened one eye, then the other. Her hands still glowed, but not so brightly that she couldn’t look at them. The light stayed constant, like the glowing ball—the mana—Aralia had brought into the cave. Ella sighed, relieved. She let herself smile again as she stared at the bright glow. After a while she let out a breath and made the light dim until it disappeared.

  Ella’s grin widened at what she’d done. She’d used magic. Without rage, without anger—without losing all control. Admittedly, the light had gotten very bright at first, but she’d stopped it. She’d dimmed the light without going unconscious. Ella laughed, loud. Her voice echoed, bouncing off mountain walls.

  ‘I’m a witch!’ She’d left her village never knowing what she’d become. She only had one mission: find and save her brother. But she’d found something else along the way.

  She stopped laughing. Her smile fell away. Should she be guilty, being this happy while Ruben needed saving?

  Would Ruben want me to be sad until I found him? She was learning to use magic to help save her brother—why couldn’t she enjoy that? Wouldn’t it be better if she did?

  Ella looked out to sea. She took a deep breath, readying herself to find the magic again.

  Something moved on the horizon. A dark shape, so far away she couldn’t make it out. Ella stood, shielded her eyes from the sun, and tried to make out what it was. It was coming closer. A ship?

  She climbed farther up the mountain, finding handholds and footholds where she could. Her fingers grasped a piece of rock and she moved her foot. The rock in her hand came loose. Ella’s grip almost slipped off her other hold. She watched as the rock fell to the ledge, bounced off, then hi
t the ground down below.

  Ella wrenched her neck to get a look at the horizon. Was it worth risking her life to see what was out there?

  She tried not to look down again and continued climbing. Her muscles strained, but they’d grown stronger since she’d left the village. Climbing the mountain wasn’t like climbing the rigging on the Serpentine, but she could manage it.

  When she reached the top, her fingers, hands and wrists were the sorest, followed closely by her arms, back and shoulders. She took a moment to hug herself, massaging her muscles before turning to look at the shape on the horizon.

  Definitely a ship, Ella thought. She could just make out the colour of the flag running up its mast.

  Red.

  A blood mage.

  By the time the sun went down and Aralia came to get her, the ship would already be here.

  Chapter 33

  Marius

  Marius sat in the small clearing, watching Peiter meditate on the ground.

  ‘He’s here.’ Peiter stood.

  Marius hadn’t heard a thing. Did the monk have enhanced hearing, some kind of magical sense?

  ‘Lilah!’ Peiter called. ‘Don’t kill him! Please, let me deal with him!’ He paced, shouting his words into the forest.

  Lilah walked into the clearing, anger burning her eyes. ‘So much for laying a trap.’ Her hands rested on the pommels of her swords.

  Marius stepped into the gap between them. ‘He wants to help! There might be a way to save the man from his bloodlock.’

  Lilah looked at the boy, a curious expression on her face. ‘What do you know of bloodlocks?’ Her head jerked, alert. She drew the sword from her right scabbard.

  Marius stood tall. It was the first time he’d seen her draw one of her swords. ‘I know it’s not his fault he’s being controlled.’

  The trees rustled. Lilah spun, gazing into the forest. Peiter held his hands up, palms out. Marius stayed between the two of them, his eyes darting about the clearing.

  Leaves crunched on one side; a twig snapped at the other.

  ‘We’re being surrounded,’ Peiter said. ‘Perhaps this trap was for us all along.’

  Boots slapped the ground from Lilah’s side. Sword in her right hand, Lilah drew a dagger from her coat with her left and threw it. The man went down, dagger between his eyes.

  Peiter grunted as a woman broke out from the trees. He thrust out his hands. Another man came at Lilah, and she held her sword high.

  As Peiter and Lilah were occupied, a third person sprinted into the clearing—straight toward Marius. A giant of a man. Marius stumbled back, searching for a weapon that wasn’t there—the sword Lilah had used as a machete was too far away.

  The man was at him. Marius screamed and threw up his arms. He waited for the crush of the giant’s tackle, but it never came. A strangled gasp met his ears instead.

  Marius lowered his arms. An odd calm took over his mind.

  The man hovered in the air two feet from the ground. His legs jerked and kicked. His hands grasped for his neck as if something strangled it. His face went from red to blue.

  ‘Marius!’

  Marius heard the monk shouting his name, faintly in the distance.

  The man’s eyes bulged. His kicks became weaker, his face bluer.

  ‘Marius, drop him now!’ Peiter gripped Marius’s shoulders and shook him.

  Marius flinched at the touch, breaking his mind’s calm. Peiter flew back, as if pushed by a mighty force. The monk slammed into the ground, winded.

  ‘Stop!’ a woman’s voice called. Lilah.

  A sword was drawn. The air in the clearing shifted. The light dimmed. A thud sounded as the man being strangled fell. Marius turned, the world spinning with him.

  Lilah stepped toward Marius, wielding a sword the colour of night, the one from her other scabbard. Every step she took made Marius feel weaker. He dropped to his knees. Shadows encased his vision. A humming rang in his ears. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was Lilah sheathing her night-black sword.

  ~

  Marius woke to fire crackling wood and voices talking low and quiet. His head pounded. He was covered in heavy blankets, but his body felt cold.

  He strained his hearing to listen, pretending to be asleep.

  ‘… drew a Starblade on a child.’ The monk’s voice was harsh, even as he whispered.

  ‘The child could have killed you. He had no control over his powers—he flung you ten feet like you were nothing!’

  It all came back to Marius in a flash. He’d used magic—without thinking, without realising what he was doing. He stayed there, frozen, lying under the pile of blankets.

  He’d hurt Peiter.

  ‘… was defending himself. It was instinctual, natural! You can’t blame him for that.’

  ‘Natural? What he did was anything but natural. How can a child be so powerful? And I don’t blame him, monk, but I had to stop him. He could’ve killed you.’

  ‘You more than drained him of his mana. Drawing a Starblade on an amateur magic user is—Marius, you’re awake.’

  Marius heard them stand. When he opened his eyes, they both stared down at him. Lilah gave Peiter a look, scowled, then stepped away. Peiter knelt with some difficulty and adjusted Marius’s blanket.

  ‘Are you alright?’ Peiter put a hand to the boy’s forehead and winced, using his other hand to hold his back. ‘You still feel cold, but you’re warming up. Good.’

  ‘I hurt you.’ Marius tried to sit up, but the monk put a hand to his chest.

  ‘Lie still, you’re recovering from the chills.’

  Marius didn’t protest. He rested his head back on the pack. ‘What happened? What—what did I do?’

  The monk rested his hands on his knees. He looked as if he were about to pray. ‘You had an outburst. It’s a common way for one’s powers to manifest. In a moment of panic, anger, fear.’

  ‘The man, is he okay?’

  Peiter bent his head, silent.

  ‘He’s dead.’ Lilah paced behind the monk.

  Marius closed his eyes. He thought he might cry, but no tears came. He wasn’t sure what he felt. He wasn’t sure if he felt anything at all. ‘I’m sorry.’

  The monk smiled, something Marius had seen him do so often but hadn’t expected. ‘It’s okay. You were defending yourself. He could have killed you, taken you.’

  ‘But—the oath.’

  The monk shook his head. ‘You are not a monk, Marius, you have taken no oaths, and so have no oaths to break. You might, one day. And by then you will be ready. You will be in control.’

  Marius glanced past Peiter to Lilah, the seeker. He whispered, ‘Will she kill me?’

  Peiter looked over his shoulder at the woman. ‘No. I dare say she will not.’

  Lilah glared at the monk but didn’t speak. Marius’s gaze fell to the dark sword sheathed at her left side. The blade the colour of night. It hadn’t so much as touched him, yet it had made him feel this way. He’d heard of magic blades in stories…

  Lilah tapped something with her boot. A woman bound in rope. ‘Are we going to do something with this one? Because the longer we stay here, the more danger we’ll encounter.’

  The woman didn’t struggle against her bindings, just as the last man hadn’t struggled. Instead she stared, intently, up at Lilah. Marius couldn’t see any emotion in her eyes.

  Peiter stood with effort. ‘I have an idea about that. The method in which we have dealt with bloodlocks before is very risky for me to attempt alone.’ He glanced at Marius. ‘I was willing to try, but there were dangers I neglected to mention. However’—his attention turned to the seeker—‘with a Starblade, there might be another way.’

  ‘You want me to use the blade?’ Lilah gaped.

  Marius shifted in the blankets.

  ‘Do not worry, Marius,’ Peiter said without turning around. ‘While you are not accessing your powers, the Starblade’s
presence unsheathed will not affect the flow of your mana.’

  Marius relaxed a little, but his eyes kept falling on the sword at the seeker’s waist.

  ‘There are ways to break a bloodlock,’ Peiter said.

  Lilah paced around the bound woman. ‘Kill the mage or kill the thrall.’

  Peiter inclined his head. ‘Those are the simplest methods, yes. And a mage may break their own bloodlock if they wish—though that is of course very rare. Another method, a fairly difficult one, is to create a barrier in the mind.’ The monk stepped slowly and carefully toward the woman. ‘The barrier restricts the flow of mana in and out of the body. It can be… detrimental to one’s health. Some, it affects little, while others, especially if they have an innate Affinity, might lose their ability to function as they once did. This is the method used in the Tahali mountains, but it is not only a risk to the thrall. The monks must enter the thrall’s mind, thus becoming susceptible to the mage’s influence. If I were to do it alone—’

  ‘It would not be wise,’ Lilah cut in. ‘Where does my blade come into this?’

  Peiter glanced at Marius. ‘Just as a human needs air to survive, a bloodlock needs mana. If we create enough mana-loss in the thrall to cause the chills…’

  ‘The connection might be starved.’ Lilah frowned. ‘Why have I never heard of this before? Seekers have been hunting blood mages for centuries.’

  ‘Starving the bloodlock enough will leave the thrall close to death. Perhaps it has been attempted, and abandoned, for once the lock is broken, the thrall will die.’

  Lilah closed her eyes and sighed heavily. ‘Then I may as well kill her.’ She drew a dagger from her belt.

  ‘I can heal her before she dies.’

  Lilah put the dagger back. ‘And that will work?’

  The monk shrugged. ‘Honestly? I do not know. But it is better to try and fail, then to give up without so much as thinking of another way.’