A Dark Inheritance

by Todd Herzman

  Lilah paused a moment, nodded, then stepped back. She put a hand on the hilt of her sword and glanced at Marius. ‘You’re sure the boy will be okay?’

  The monk nodded. ‘As long as he does not perform any magic during the procedure.’

  ‘Procedure.’ Lilah scoffed. ‘What a name for what we’re about to do.’

  Peiter held his back as he knelt by the woman. Her eyes were still on his, bulging, staring. Her arms were bound behind her. Marius sat up to get a better look. She had the same scar on the underside of her forearm.

  The monk looked at Lilah. ‘You will need to cut here.’ He drew a line with a finger over the scar. ‘At the point of the connection. Then hold your blade to her—’

  ‘I know how to create mana-loss.’

  Peiter narrowed his eyes. ‘Yes, I suppose you do.’

  Lilah rolled her eyes and drew her sword. Marius flinched back at the sight of the black blade.

  The Starblade.

  The seeker knelt beside the monk. She peered down at the scar and grabbed the woman’s arm in her left. She moved the sword’s edge, down near the hilt, close to the woman’s wrist. ‘It’s not exactly a precision instrument. Especially since I can’t touch the blade.’

  ‘You will need to sheath it, the moment she has been drained enough. Healing her, I will not have the strength to shield myself against the effects of that thing.’

  ‘How will I know when she’s drained enough?’

  ‘I will tell you.’

  Lilah nodded.

  Marius hugged the blankets tight as he watched. He could have turned away, he knew, but he wasn’t a coward. Be brave, he thought.

  The blade touched the woman’s scar. A bead of blood escaped her skin and the woman screamed and writhed, breaking her silence.

  ‘Hold her!’ Lilah shouted.

  Peiter grabbed the woman. She struggled in his grasp, but it was enough for Lilah to do her work. She sliced down the length of the scar. The woman wailed, animalistic. Marius had seen a pig slaughtered and couldn’t help thinking of it as she writhed and screamed.

  Blood flowed from the wound. Lilah raised her sword and examined her handiwork.

  ‘Hold the blade to her skin!’ Peiter said.

  Lilah glared at Peiter before doing as he said. She moved the blade, resting the flat of it on the bare skin of the woman’s arm.

  The woman’s writhing became stronger for a moment, but she weakened by the second until becoming still. Her skin turned pale. Lilah looked to the monk.

  ‘Not yet,’ he said. ‘Wait.’

  The woman’s skin turned blue. Where she’d been still her body spasmed, shivered. Lilah looked to Peiter again. Peiter stared at the woman. Time stretched.

  He nodded. ‘Now.’

  Lilah sheathed the still-wet black blade in one motion.

  The monk pulled up his sleeves before laying his hands on the woman’s bare arm. Marius had seen him heal before, but he’d never seen him look so frantic. The monk’s lips moved, whispering something under his breath, but Marius couldn’t hear the words.

  Lilah stood and paced around the monk as he worked. Four steps one way, four steps back. Her hand tightly gripped on her hilt.

  ‘Come on,’ Peiter said.

  The woman’s skin stayed blue. Peiter knelt there for a long time. He kept rubbing his hands then placing them on her arm again. Nothing happened. Lilah stopped pacing. She gave the monk a look. It was the kind of look Marius remembered well. He’d received it in the village a lot, after his father had died.

  Peiter let go. He sat, plopping to the ground, his usual easy grace gone. ‘I guess you were right.’

  ‘No.’ Lilah released her grip from the hilt of her sword and offered her hand to Peiter. ‘You tried. I respect that.’

  The monk let her help him up. Marius’s gaze fell on the dead woman. Peiter wasn’t able to save her.

  Peiter walked to Marius. ‘You remember you saw me take mana from nature?’ Peiter asked. Marius nodded. ‘You are going to have to do that now. We have no time for you to recover naturally.’ He looked away from Marius, at the three dead bodies scattered in the clearing, then into the trees. ‘We must leave. As soon as we can.’

  Chapter 34

  Ruben

  Ruben dreamt of a world in flames. He was back there, on that night. The screams came from the village, but when he left his house, it wasn’t just the town on fire. It was everything.

  The ground. The trees. The sky.

  He looked at his hands and found them aflame. He looked to his brother and sister—their arms stretched toward him as they burned.

  He woke in his room in the God King’s castle. It was pitch black. The shadows, the darkness, felt like they would smother him after that dream. He brought his hand up and summoned fire from one finger, the flame the size of a candle’s.

  The room brightened. It almost felt natural being here. He’d been away from home so long he barely remembered what it was like. He used to wake to the neighbour’s rooster and help Ella prepare breakfast. Then he’d start in the smithy. Spend hours there. Sometimes Marius would find his way in and try to help, though more often than not he’d get in the way. If the weather was fair, Ruben went hunting in the afternoons. The evenings he’d spend with Taya whenever he could. They would walk under the stars, she’d have dinner with his family, or he’d have dinner with hers.

  It was a good life. Sometimes a hard one. He had trouble filling his father’s shoes, working the smithy in the same way he did. Sometimes there wasn’t enough food on the table, but they always made do.

  What were his brother and sister doing without him?

  That life was an ocean and miles away. Life in the castle was better than life on Malarin’s ship. But it wasn’t his life.

  Ruben threw off his blanket and got up. He walked about his room. There were no windows here, just as there’d been none on the ship. He hadn’t seen the stars since he was under Malarin’s control, not counting Alyssa’s illusion in the garden. He used to stare at those stars every evening. In the height of summer, on the clearest of nights, he’d asked Taya to be his bride under those stars.

  He stood by the wall, extinguished the flame, and closed his eyes. He imagined the night sky. The specks of white on a blanket of black. Could the world’s doom truly come from the stars? Had what Alyssa shown him been real?

  Could he truly escape, abandon this place, if it was?

  He still didn’t believe her about the God King. No one who treated people as slaves could ever claim to have their heart in the right place.

  He wants what’s best for you.

  Why? Why did the God King care what Ruben did, how Ruben lived, how he used his powers?

  ~

  Ruben woke to a knock at the door. It still felt like night—like he hadn’t slept at all.

  He sat up, the blanket falling from his bare chest, and waited for the door to open. Alyssa streamed through with a plate of breakfast and placed it on the table.

  ‘Good morning.’ She smiled, her eyes lingering on him before she turned to let him dress. ‘I brought you bacon.’ She faced the wall as he threw on some trousers and a shirt.

  Ruben fastened his belt and glanced at Alyssa, the way her hair fell on her back, the way the dress hugged her waist. He cleared his throat. ‘You can turn around.’ He looked to the food instead of the woman who wasn’t his betrothed. He pulled up a chair. Bacon. He hadn’t had bacon in a long time. A few pigs had been raised on old Joslin’s farm, but bacon usually cost him a hefty trade if she wasn’t feeling generous.

  He bit into it, savouring the taste.

  Alyssa leant against the wall, watching him. ‘I know you wish to escape.’

  Ruben hesitated midchew. He managed to stop himself from reacting, from gaping at her, and forced himself to finish his mouthful, swallowing it down. ‘And how do you know that?’

  Alyssa sighed. ‘Because you feel lik
e a prisoner.’

  He couldn’t stop himself from gaping this time. ‘I am a prisoner.’

  She sat opposite him. Her smile disarming, unexpected. ‘You don’t have to be, Ruben. There is so much you can do here, so much you can have. You came from a small village with nothing. Now, you’re in a castle under the watchful eye of Renial the God King.’

  ‘I miss my home. I miss my family, I miss—’ He stopped himself. Taya, he thought. I miss Taya. He didn’t want to say that in front of Alyssa.

  Alyssa reached over the table and took his hand. ‘I know. But that all won’t matter soon, when you embrace your new life.’

  Ruben disentangled his hand from hers. ‘What does that mean? You keep telling me to embrace this life, but how am I supposed to do that when it’s not my life? When I have no freedom?’ He waved an arm at the walls. ‘I can’t even see the stars at night. I’m not allowed to so much as leave my room without you.’

  Alyssa stood. She moved to sit on the bed. She tapped the space beside her. ‘Come. I will show you.’

  Ruben did as he was told. Despite his better judgement. Despite the voice in his head telling him not to, despite the guilt in the pit of his stomach, he sat beside her. They faced each other on the bed.

  ‘You have so much potential. There are many ways to unlock that.’ She moved a finger down the nape of her neck. He followed it with his eyes. She grabbed the pendant that fell down to rest on her chest. It was a clear crystal, sharpened at its point.

  She grasped the crystal tight and sliced a line in her neck.

  Ruben flinched back. ‘What are you doing?’ He touched the scar on his own neck instinctively.

  ‘Drink of it, Ruben. Renial wants you to be the best you can be. He wants you to be strong.’ She let go of the crystal, blood dripped down her neck. She moved toward him, pawing the bed, her voice sultry. ‘Imagine the power you would have, Ruben. I know you want to save your girl. If you were strong enough, you could take her back. Malarin would be no match for you. He would bow at your feet.’

  Alyssa wrapped her arms around Ruben’s shoulders. She was so close he could smell the flowers she bathed in, see the vein pulsing at her neck, the blood. She put a hand behind his head and drew him into a kiss.

  He almost fought it.

  Her touch brewed a fire in him that had nothing to do with his rage or his powers. She broke away, stared into his eyes, hand still behind his head she forced him to her neck.

  He drank. The power bloomed within him as she whimpered softly in his ear.

  ‘Yes, Ruben,’ she whispered. ‘This is what your God wants.’

  The words fell into his mind. They swirled around in his head, This is what your god wants. Ruben stopped. What was he doing? He moved away from her and wiped the blood off his lips. He stood, stumbling back a few steps.

  Alyssa smiled, standing gracefully, her neck a mess of red. ‘Thank you, Ruben.’

  Ruben felt the power bubble within. Alyssa walked to the door. He watched her hips sway. He shook his head. He didn’t feel in control anymore. The power coalesced, mingled inside him. Ruben stared at Alyssa’s neck as she opened the door.

  She nodded at the half-finished plate of bacon. ‘Eat up.’ She closed the door behind her. Ruben heard the tell-tale latch fall shut on the outside.

  He licked his lips, savouring the taste of the blood, then instantly felt disgusted.

  He sat, limbs shaking, onto the chair. His breathing came shallow. He tried to cling onto the feeling of disgust, the feeling of guilt. What he’d done was wrong in so many ways—he’d betrayed his betrothed, and he’d drunk the blood of another person. This power he felt inside was tainted, wrong.

  So why did it feel so amazing?

  He ate the bacon. It tasted sweet, salty. It moistened and danced in his mouth. Food had never tasted so good.

  If you were strong enough, you could take her back. Alyssa’s words played in his mind. He may have betrayed Taya, but if it meant he’d become more powerful… really, he had her best interests at heart. He did it for Taya.

  Didn’t he?

  Chapter 35

  Ella

  The cave entrance didn’t look welcoming. Ella shook as she stood in front of it. It had been so dark in there. She looked at her hands. If she used her powers now, feeling as she did, would she be able to control them?

  The ship with the red sail came nearer. It had taken her too long to climb down from the mountain. In control or not, she didn’t have a choice. She closed her eyes and let out a shaky breath. Light, she thought, all I need is a little light. She looked at the lines on her hand. She forced herself to smile, to remember what it had felt like before she’d seen the ship.

  ‘I can do this,’ she whispered. She imagined the light and groped for the power inside that she knew was there. She pushed at it.

  Light sprung forth. Suddenly, blindingly, all at once turning her vision into a pool of white. She squinted. The light was different than before—it wasn’t Arin’s light, the colour of the sun, as it had been. It was a glowing ball of white mana like the one Aralia had used to guide them through the cave.

  Except it was bigger and getting bigger by the second. She’d pushed too hard on the power within her. Ella didn’t panic. She had no time. She inhaled, counting the seconds it took to bring the air in. Exhaled, counting the seconds it took to let the air out. The ship was getting closer, but she still had time to make it through the tunnels. If she rushed, she wouldn’t make it, so it was okay to take her time.

  The ball shrunk as Ella calmed herself. A part of her admired what she’d managed to do in such a short time. She glanced over her shoulder. The red sail stood out in the sea of blue like a drop of blood on a pristine surface.

  Ella strode into the cave.

  She tried to remember the way she’d come, but she hadn’t paid enough attention on her way through. She hadn’t expected to make her way back alone. She quickened her pace, surprised at how much the light let her see. It was nothing like the light of a candle, flickering and free. It was constant, and it spread farther down the dark tunnel than a flame’s light would have.

  She noticed the marks on the ground where the dirt had been kicked up. Everything her older brother had taught her about tracking came back in that moment—she didn’t need to know the way back, all she needed was to follow the tracks. Two sets of footprints had travelled to the beach, one had travelled back.

  She wouldn’t get lost—she would reach the village in time to warn them.

  As she walked, she wondered. Her mind freed itself to think as she followed the tracks in the dirt. How had the blood mage found them? According to Aralia, the island had been a well-kept secret. Aralia had been terrified when she felt Renial’s presence, worried he would find out where she was—had that been it? Was it Ella’s fault a ship was on its way?

  A blood mage, on its way to the island. The reason they’d come here was to regroup, to figure out how to infiltrate Albion—what better way than to capture a blood mage?

  Ella walked faster. A new goal beyond warning the village entered her mind. Capture the blood mage… steal his ship. If they had a blood mage’s ship, they could sail straight into the docks at Albion. She smiled. If they played this right, the attack was a blessing.

  Assuming she reached the village in time.

  Even if the ship did land before she reached them, the blood mage would have to get through the narrow pass before reaching the village.

  Somewhere in the middle of the cave, the tracks she’d followed died out as the floor turned from dirt to hard clay. The tunnel stretched on. She kept walking, nowhere to go but forward. Until she came across a fork. Two paths diverged in the dark cave.

  Ella stood, frozen. What if she got stuck in these tunnels? What if it took her so long to get out, that by the time she reached the village everyone would be either captured or dead?

  The light levitating over her hand flickered. Her
breathing shook. Memories of the fires, the screams, came to her. Geral dead in the bottom of the well. A pile of bodies burning until there was no more.

  The ball of mana dimmed and shrunk. She’d hidden in the forest that night. What else could she have done? She might have powers now, but she’d been powerless then. Stars, maybe she still was—it couldn’t be called power if she had no control over it.

  The mana became so small she could no longer see the two tunnels by its light. All she could see was what her mind gave her—images of that night and predictions for what might happen to Aralia’s sanctuary. The teenagers she’d passed, freed from their blood mage only to be taken by another. Arin refusing to leave and being cut down in her garden. Reena tied and bound with a fresh wound on her neck.

  The light disappeared. The tunnel became black. Ella sunk to the ground. The cave felt cold. She held herself in the dark, shivering. How had she not realised how cold it was in here?

  She could try and bring the mana back. But what would be the point? She didn’t know which way to go. And if she made it back to the village, how would she be able to help? She hadn’t helped when her own village was attacked, what did she expect to do now? Accidentally set the attackers on fire?

  All she could hear in the stark silence were her shuddering breaths. Something in her mind told her to focus. Whether she could do anything or not, she had to try. She couldn’t sit here while another village burned.

  Ella groped for the wall and stood in the dark. She held out her hands. She didn’t want to bring light, or mana. She wanted fire. Flickering flames to match the shudder in her breath. Something to take away the shivering, chilled fear in her chest. She pictured her brother’s forge, the feeling of being in the smithy, the heat rolling over her.

  She would need to control her powers, even in doubt, even in fear. She knew being brave didn’t mean you weren’t afraid. It meant acting even when that fear gripped your heart and pumped through your veins.

  Ella reached for the power within and tried to bring the fire. Light pierced the darkness, lasting only the length between heartbeats. The darkness returned but the flame she’d sparked left impressions swimming in her vision and the hint of smoke in the air.