Odriel's Heirs

by Hayley Reese Chow

  A clear soprano pierced through her thoughts, and she looked up to see Mackie singing.

  The Dragon Heir is strongest they all say

  But watch out if you know what’s good for you

  He will turn you into ashes of gray

  So be careful what you say and do

  The Shadow Heir is smartest they all say

  But you’ll never see him coming for you

  He walks unseen even on sunny days

  So you must speak kindly of that one, too

  The Time Heir is the kindest by far

  Unlike the others, you don’t have to fear

  He’ll fix you up and won’t leave a scar

  When he comes to town, it’s cause for cheer.

  Kaia threw a small pebble at the boy. “Mackie, I hate that song.” It was an old tune that children chanted when they played. Bram had often teased her with it when they were young. “The dragon sounds awful!” she groused.

  Mackie laughed. “But, it’s not bad, Kaia. It’s just part of the legend of the Dragon Heir.”

  Felix chirped, as if to second the statement.

  Klaus leaned towards Kaia. “Yeah, Firefly, it’s part of your legend.”

  "Father's legend, perhaps," Bram murmured from behind them, just loud enough for her ears only. Kaia turned from the fire to see her brother staring at her through the darkness.

  Kaia rose and took a step towards him, "I seemed to have fared well enough.”

  "Will you be able to deliver justice for our father, then?” The shadows of the fire played across his face.

  Kaia snarled, her fists clenching as she tried to control her temper. "I will use my gifts to burn the Lost—as is its purpose." She jerked her head at Klaus. "The Shadow Heir is best with the blade—he’ll take the leaders."

  Bram’s eyebrows raised as he snapped a stick in his hands before throwing it into the fire. "The Shadow Heir to the rescue again." His eyes flicked back to her. "You're not scared, are you, sister?"

  Kaia opened her mouth to respond when Klaus came between them, putting a hand on their shoulders, "This doesn't look like a loving repartee between siblings on the eve of battle."

  Bram shrugged. "Just making sure The Dragon Heir is ready, that's all.”

  Kaia straightened. "I am the first-born of Tamsin Dashul, the Dragon Heir by birthright, blessed with courage and the gift of fire. I have been trained for this battle since I could walk. Best worry about yourself, instead, little brother,"

  With that, she knocked Klaus' hand off her shoulder and stalked off back to her pack on the far side of camp.

  Gus yipped at her as they walked. Calm, my girl. Calm. Breathe.

  Kaia sucked in deep breaths as she fought the urge to flame. She yanked her saddle out from under the tree and hurled it out into the open. With a cry of frustration, she hammered her fists into the ground, grabbing fistfuls of dirt in her fingers.

  Gus snuffled at her ear. You will be ok. I am here.

  She gently pushed his nose away and sat back, looking at the clear, star-filled sky. She pulled her knees to her chest and closed her eyes as she let the emotions beat against her in furious gusts. She inhaled the night air and exhaled fear, rage, and sorrow—expelling it from her body.

  Gus curled up by her feet and breathed his own canine sigh. We are safe. We are ok.

  The luminous, crescent moon sparkled above Kaia, but it couldn’t cheer her this night. She pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes. Okarria’s army had asked her for protection, but she couldn’t even save her father from one man. Bram, though infuriating, was right. She was just an untried girl…but she was also the Dragon Heir. The dragon wasn’t supposed to hesitate, wasn’t supposed to feel fear.

  The pressure in her forehead returned. She looked up to the velvet navy sky and thought of Mogens and the Arimoke villagers that had exiled her.

  They said she was a killer of men, which she wasn’t…yet. Is that what she would become tomorrow? An Heir the townsfolk could rightfully fear? Her father had turned the dragon fire upon a man and created a monster. Would she do the same?

  The uncertainty made her muscles tighten and her head ache. Her father was supposed to be here to help her, to answer her questions. She was too young to be Guardian Dashul, too young to fight this war. She didn’t even have Jago’s guidance. Her eyes grew damp, and she squeezed them shut, reaching out for Gus’ reassuring bulk.

  She glanced up sharply as footsteps approached.

  “They have a tent for you, you know,” Klaus teased.

  Her muscles relaxed—not Bram. She closed her eyes again without answering. If no one else knew about her doubts, she could be the fearless Dragon Heir they expected her to be.

  He kicked the dirt. “You know, I never liked Bram. He’s always been a profound ass.”

  Kaia opened her damp eyes, but looked away, not trusting her voice to be steady.

  “Kaia.” Klaus sat in the dirt next to her, stretching his legs out and leaning back on his hands to look at the sky.

  She cleared her throat. “It’s fine.”

  “Your brother’s a jealous fool. It’s not your fault.”

  “I know that.”

  “But do you believe it?”

  She looked at the stars, pinpricks of light in the darkness. “My father should be here,” she murmured. “And Jago, too.”

  “Yes." Klaus edged closer to her in the dark. "But that doesn’t mean we can’t do this.” He nudged her shoulder with his own. The gesture was simple, and yet this simple show of fellowship—of kind compassion—rocked Kaia to her core. She rested her head on her forearms, and the pressure in her temples eased as tears escaped down her cheeks.

  “I’m scared,” she whispered. The confession burned her throat.

  “I’m glad to see you have some sense, after all.”

  She let out a shaky breath and slapped his leg. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it, leaning his head towards her as if whispering a secret. “I’ll be right there with you, Firefly.”

  Kaia returned his steady gaze, feeling his confidence course from his fingers to hers. Her shoulders relaxed as he rubbed his calloused thumb across hers. Kaia nudged him with her shoulder and looked back toward the sky. “I’m counting on it.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Ariston’s Army

  Kaia awoke to paws on her chest and Shad’s sapphire eyes staring at her in the dark morning. “It is time.”

  She rose quietly as Gus yawned beside her, showing his long shepherd's teeth. She strapped her father’s hand-me-down sword around her waist, her last resort in this battle. The camp was already bustling with activity as the warriors made last-minute preparations—shining shields, limbering exercises, and discussing formations.

  Kaia followed Shad to a tent where they had set aside an extra set of armor for her. She tried on the shoulder plates, gauntlets, and a helmet she could barely see out of, but the oversized gear made her limbs feel clumsy and slow. Finally, she discarded most of it and walked out with only a mail vest, reasoning that no one should be able to get close to her in any case.

  As Kaia walked over to the fire to grab a hasty breakfast, she passed Fiola preparing her tent to tend to the inevitable wounded. She arranged bandages, basins of water, and many, many pallets. She directed others to help her with a voice that rang with the air of command. She’s a tough old woman, Kaia thought with a smile.

  She spotted Felix curled up on a stack of blankets as Mackie scurried about obeying Fiola's orders. She was glad to see the cheerful boy was out of harm’s way.

  Seeing Kaia’s glance, Mackie waved at her and pointed to the edge of the camp. There, lounging some distance away from the rest, gathered a pack of bears, lions, and wolves, all of them still as though patiently waiting for the call to battle. Kaia’s brows shot up at the strange sight.

  Mackie laughed at her surprise and gave her a wink for luck. She gladly returned it before continuing on her way.

  She walked over
to a cooking fire in the center of camp, not sure exactly where to be. Lost in her thoughts, she jumped when Klaus appeared at her elbow. As befitting a Shadow Heir, he was clad only in black leather armor muffled with cloth wrappings to ensure speed and stealth. The armor seemed to accent his muscular arms and tall frame—just like Odriel’s Assassins of old. Kaia could only imagine the fear he would inspire with his sudden appearance on the battlefield. Klaus’ lips quirked briefly in greeting, but his eyes glinted humorlessly. As Kaia glanced around the camp, she saw his expression reflected on many of the warriors.

  Scooping porridge from the pot over the fire, they finished their small breakfast standing up just before the horns began to blow. At first, only one bellowed through the pre-dawn darkness, then it was joined by another and another until the entire camp echoed with the rumbling battle call. Adrenaline raised the hair on the back of Kaia’s neck as she jammed the last bite of food in her mouth and strode over to the assembling army in the fields north of the camp.

  She gazed across the golden grass and managed to make out a long dark line on the horizon stretching from the canyon to the base of the mountain. Ahead of the line, a single rider approached them. Klaus and Cressida stood beside her while Everard and the Maldibor chief sat upon their magnificent Naerami mounts.

  Cressida’s powerful tail pounded the ground. “It’s a messenger.”

  Everard folded his hands behind his back. “To negotiate terms of peace.”

  The rider halted before them and puffed out his shining chest plate, his mouth twitching with a nervous tic. “Lord Ariston has sent me to command you to cease your foolish resistance. Nifras is our true enemy. We should not divide our strength.”

  “We refuse to trade a demon necromancer for a human one,” Okoni growled.

  “He cannot even keep his dead soldiers from attacking the innocent,” Cressida added.

  Klaus stepped forward. “Unless you bear the terms of Ariston’s surrender, you may leave.” His hard voice rang with authority across the dusty field. “We will eradicate this abomination he calls an army, and none that stand with him will be spared.”

  The messenger sneered as he turned his mount. “You are a fool to stand against us. Ariston is more powerful than your pathetic Heirs combined.”

  Feeling the rage bubble within her at his arrogance, Kaia let a gust of flames billow out of her palms in a bright flash. The quick burst didn’t touch him or his mount, but his horse took fright and reared. The silly man lost hold and fell flat on his back as his horse took off running towards the mountains, away from both armies. The Heirs and chiefs let out a low chuckle, but Everard glared sharply at Kaia. She smirked with a shrug.

  “Looks like your horse has more sense than you,” Klaus taunted the messenger as he got to his feet. “I suppose you’ll have to run back to Ariston.”

  “Have your laugh now,” spat the man. “The Lost will soon be gnawing on your bones.” With that, the emissary turned tail and stalked back to the safety of Conrad’s horde.

  Everard sighed and turned to the small party. “Remember, Dracours on the right flank. Humans and Maldibor on the left. Klaus will find and eliminate Ariston as soon as possible.”

  Kaia nodded absently through all of this as the dark line grew larger on the dusty plain, like ink spilled across yellowed parchment. “And Kaia.” The magus leaned toward her, lowering his voice. “Let the boy take Gus.”

  Kaia turned to Mackie, who had quietly stepped up beside her. She looked back to Everard with her jaw hanging open. Gus had been by her side for the last four years, and before that, she had Pellie. She had hardly walked a step without a big, shaggy dog beside her. The gravity of the battle dawned on her.

  Mackie met her eyes briefly before looking away. “I’ll take good care of him, Kaia.”

  Kaia nodded numbly, crouching down to give Gus a final pat and a kiss on his wet nose. “You two stay out of trouble.”

  Mackie clicked his tongue, and Gus wavered, his wet canine eyes beseeching Kaia, trying to tell her something she could not quite decipher. Mackie clicked his tongue again, and Gus shifted his gaze.

  Something unheard and unseen passed between them that Kaia longed to be a part of. With one last whine, Gus reluctantly followed the boy as they weaved their way back through the army. Kaia put a hand to her chest in a vain attempt to quell her stuttering heart as she watched them go. It was as if she had awoken to find a limb had gone missing in the night. Loneliness tightened its grip on her chest.

  She closed her eyes. Courage, her father's words echoed in her thoughts. To win on the battlefield you must first conquer the fear within.

  With a sharp breath out, Kaia opened her eyes and trained her gaze forward again, her brows drawn low over a steeled stare.

  The enemy host approached over the dry, grassy plain in a ragged line that stretched across the horizon. The Lost were armed this time, something she had not seen before, and their condition ranged widely. Some looked almost human while others stood on yellowed bones, but all shambled jerkily forward at a quick pace.

  “Ariston has stolen these creatures from the ancient battleground graveyards to the west,” Everard reminded them. “They will be more skilled than those you have faced before.”

  Kaia swallowed as she watched the dead’s human shepherds on horseback to the right and left of them, sporting rusting armor and moving with skittish steps much like the pretend soldiers she had seen at Butterdelf. Further proof that Ariston could not control his brood. From her place on the ground, she could not see beyond the first few lines, but she imagined that Conrad led them from behind, with Mogens beside him and a shield of unnatural dead flesh between her and them. A wall that Klaus would have to cut through to get his sword across their throats

  “Steady,” Everard called. “Wait for my signal.” The chiefs had spread out to their respective flanks, each one holding up a hand to still the impatient warriors. When the overwhelming stench of the dead reached Kaia’s nose, the line of horses shuffled nervously behind her.

  The collective sound of hundreds of dead feet dragging through the dusty grass filled the tense air, and she looked up at Klaus. Confidence, she reminded herself, giving him a sure smile—but she was surprised to see his dark brows lower in worry.

  “Reeeeeeeeaaaaaaady,” Everard called.

  His eyes still locked on hers, Klaus closed the gap between them in three steps. He moved as if to embrace her, but seized her arms instead. He leaned down so that his rough cheek pressed against hers, and his lips brushed her ear.

  “If you only listen to me once in your life, listen to me now,” he whispered, his arms slipping to shoulders and squeezing them tightly. “Be safe, Firefly.”

  A blush heated Kaia’s face. “Klaus…” She wanted to reassure him—to lend him confidence as he had for her, but before she could voice her feelings, he released her. His eyes held hers for another heartbeat, a gaze with a message that Kaia couldn't read. Then, the Shadow Heir vanished.

  Conflicting emotions buzzed through her, leaving her spine tingling and her stomach aflutter. It occurred to her then that something had changed between the Heirs in the last few weeks. The thought thickened the blush on her cheeks, but foreboding kept her rooted to the earth. Why did that feel like a farewell?

  Before Kaia could dwell on it further, Everard shouted to her.

  “Kaia, bring the fire!”

  Kaia tossed her head to clear it and raised her hands above her head. Her first task was to inspire their small, outnumbered army while striking fear into those of their enemy that had hearts to feel it—to make the largest fire she could possibly control. She took a deep breath and called the inferno. Her nervous energy caused the flames to billow up in a swirling elmcore-sized tower of searing flame, unlike anything she had ever created. The sight of it filled even her with excitement. It stretched in the air so high that she imagined it might burn away the clouds. Ariston’s warriors shielded their faces from the bright column, but the corpses
only shuffled faster, eager jaws snapping at the yanaa’s lure.

  “Release!” Everard bellowed.

  Kaia brought the blaze down in front of her as if she held the tail of a tornado of fire, twisting it from left to right in front of her. As it fell upon the heads of Conrad’s puppets, it took on a life of its own—roaring into a crackling wall of flame from which nothing could escape. But when the dead keened in the throes of a second death, Kaia heard no anguish—only a rallying war cry to spur their brethren.

  Catching her breath, Kaia released her river of flame, letting it run over the front lines, and signaled to Everard with a closed fist.

  The commanding magus’ voice boomed over the lines of warriors. “FORRRRRRRWARRDDDDD!”

  The chiefs on the right and left released their own battle cries and howls, angling around the burning dead as they aimed for Conrad’s living fighters while Everard stayed by Kaia’s side to face the dead alongside her. She winced as the armies clashed in front of them.

  The Dracours on the right flank seamlessly cut through the clumsy opposition like a scythe through wheat. The bears, lions, and wolves—wild and roaring—ran out in front of the Maldibor and human riders. Ariston’s soldiers balked at the sight of the charging predators, allowing them to easily break through their lines, with the riders charging in close behind. Kaia’s chest swelled with pride as she watched their allies at work. There may have been few, but they were warriors, indeed.

  “Now, you must conserve your yanaa,” Everard said, raising his voice above the din of battle. “Wait until you can see the next line advancing into your blaze before you release another blast.”

  “I can see them now.” Her fingers twitched nervously as she watched shadows appear through the quickly collapsing flame wall. It took more yanaa to project the dragon fire further, but she didn’t want to let them get any closer. The sudden image of her body being torn apart by the rotting, jagged teeth of the Lost sent a chill through her bones. She winced. Don’t get distracted. Concentrate on victory.