Heritage: Book Three of the Grimoire Saga

by Boyce, S. M.

  Throughout the village center, about fifty vagabonds clumped in circles of three: two sparred while a third critiqued. Hillsidians ducked and swerved, living up to the stealth and speed for which their race was famous. Kirelms used their wings to outmaneuver their opponents, flapping them to throw other races off balance. Lossians bobbed their blue heads, dancing around blows with practiced grace. No Ayavelians stood among those sparring, though. Kara paused for a moment, suddenly uncertain as to whether Ayavelians could fight at all.

  Light reflected off of something in her peripheral vision. She spun. Eight Ayavelians trotted down stairs in front of the Vagabond’s tomb as the great stone door swung shut behind them. Sunlight flashed along their skin, shooting red and blue beams onto the grass nearby.

  Kara smiled. Aislynn—the Ayavelian Blood—may have betrayed her, but that didn’t make her people any less stunning to watch.

  A short and slender Ayavelian among the group waved. The girl’s white hair curled over her shoulders, giving her sharp chin an even more pronounced point. Kara waved back. The door to the Vagabond’s tomb opened once again, and Richard slipped out into the sunshine. With a wave of his hand, he beckoned her over.

  She took the last bite of her bread roll and ran toward the group. If Richard was giving them a tour, those had to be his latest—and final—recruits.

  Sure enough, Grimoire pendants bled into view around their necks as Kara got closer. When she finally stopped in front of them, the group smiled almost in unison.

  Richard patted her back. “In case you hadn’t guessed, Kara, these are our last vagabonds. Every Grimoire pendant has now been filled, even those from the yakona who left when they found out...uh...”

  “We don’t care if you’re an isen!” one of the Ayavelians shouted. The girl slipped to the front of the line and stood a full foot shorter than Kara. The Ayavelian’s hair sat in a long braid down her back. Her smile stretched over her face.

  Kara grinned. “I appreciate that. What’s your name?”

  “Rieve. It’s an honor to meet you, Vagabond. I always dreamed I would!”

  “My little sister’s not the only one. Most of us have,” another Ayavelian said.

  He elbowed Rieve and smiled, but quickly glanced back to Kara. He was about six feet tall, with broad shoulders. Rieve pushed him back and laughed.

  “Well, make yourselves at home,” Kara said.

  Richard opened his mouth as if to add something, but shouts erupted across the field. A woman screamed, and someone else barked orders Kara couldn’t quite make out. The sparring matches broke apart. Vagabonds ducked into cottages. Those who couldn’t find shelter hovered along the edges of the nearby forest, waiting.

  Everyone looked up at the sky.

  Kara followed suit in time to see wings blip into view on the horizon. Something large and brown soared toward them at a speed too fast to track. In a matter of seconds, the blip became a dot the size of a dime.

  Whatever this was, it knew exactly where they were.

  A pang of fear raced through Kara, but she swallowed it. This was her home. She would kill anything that threatened it or her vagabonds.

  “Spread out and stay at the edges of the clearing!” Richard yelled. He pushed the Ayavelians backward into the treeline.

  But Kara stepped out onto the now-empty stone circle. The fingers of her left hand hovered over the wrist guard that kept her true nature at bay. She wouldn’t take it off unless she absolutely had to.

  Details appeared on the creature as it neared. Tufts of brown fur. Off-white fangs. Black eyes. A ten-foot wing span. Body shaped like a bullet. Clawed feet tucked under its hairy stomach. Whatever it was, this thing had evolved for speed.

  The creature slowed as Kara stepped into its path. Its wings shoved the air aside, loosing a gale that ripped through her hair. Kara didn’t flinch. She kept eye contact with it even as the creature uncurled its feet to land not ten feet away.

  But as it began to land, the claws on its feet became boots. The thin legs stretched and thickened into brown pants. A tremor raced through the wings. They shrank into arms. Hands. The beast’s fangs retreated into a tanned face with copper hair.

  Kara grinned as recognition buzzed in the back of her mind. “That was a tad dramatic, Garrett.”

  A corner of the muse’s mouth curved into a smirk, and he crossed his arms in response.

  She hadn’t been able to resist the joke, but Kara didn’t let herself relax. Last they met, Garrett left her chained in Aislynn’s company after the Blood used her for bait to lure Adele—the love of Garrett’s life—into a deadly trap. He saved the unconscious Adele and barely hesitated before he’d torn out of the cave and all but left Kara to die.

  She couldn’t blame him, not really. He wanted to protect what he loved, and Kara wasn’t on that list. Guilt churned in her gut as Adele’s screams flashed again in her mind. Aislynn wanted to drain every drop of blood out of the muse in an effort to steal her power. As far as Kara could tell, it hadn’t worked. But the fact Adele wasn’t with Garrett now could only mean something terrible happened.

  He could very well be here for revenge—and if so, she wasn’t sure if even she could stop him.

  Kara stood as tall as she could, shoulders back. A muscle in the small of her back burned from the effort.

  “What can I do for you, Garrett?” she asked.

  “You’ve been awoken as an isen,” he said without answering.

  She nodded. “I guess you knew, too?”

  “We did.”

  Kara’s fists tightened. Of course they did. If Stone and the Vagabond had known, it only made sense the drenowith did as well. She wished someone had actually told her.

  He nodded toward the edge of the field. “They can relax. I’m not here to cause trouble.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You sure about that?”

  “Quite. I simply wanted to tell you what happened to Adele.”

  Guilt ripped through Kara again. “How is she?”

  Garrett shook his head. “Not well. She’s in a crystal coffin, which uses ancient magic to heal. But she hasn’t moved since I placed her there.”

  “I’m sorry,” Kara said. It came out more as a whisper.

  “I know. She only ever wanted you to be safe. You trusted the wrong people, but I forgive you.”

  Kara glanced around the field. Her vagabonds stood along the edges, each poised to attack. She wanted to tell them to relax, but she still wasn’t quite sure they should.

  “Can we talk in private?” Garrett asked.

  Kara nodded. “Follow me.”

  She led him toward the mansion. They walked in silence, Garrett staring ahead the whole way. Kara glanced around, keeping an eye on the vagabonds nearby. She passed Demnug—Braeden’s best friend and once a captain in the Hillsidian guard. He placed a hand on his sword hilt, but Kara shook her head. He tensed his jaw and took a step back.

  When Kara reached the front door, she held it open for Garrett. He walked inside, and she gestured to the vagabonds to resume their daily lives. They inched into the field, all a little tense, but Richard shouted to get their attention. He began barking orders Kara could barely make out, and she left him to it.

  The door shut silently behind her. She walked around Garrett and toward the stairs—she figured her office would be the best place to have a quiet conversation. Besides, the war room still had weapons lining every wall. Even though Garrett wouldn’t need them if he wanted to kill her, she didn’t want to give him any help. The muse followed without a word.

  “Where is that girl?” someone demanded from around a bend in the hallway.

  Stone rounded the corner and stopped in his tracks. His eyes skimmed right over Kara and locked on the drenowith standing in the hallway. He cursed.

  “You,” Garrett seethed.

  Cold panic shot through Kara. She froze, uncertain of what to do. How could she be so stupid as to not think this one through? She had been distracted, but she shou
ld have sent someone to warn Stone about Garrett. Muses were slow to forgive, and Stone took the soul of Garrett’s closest friend—someone he and Adele still missed.

  “I’ll kill you!” Garrett shouted.

  Kara stood between him and her isen mentor. “You won’t.”

  “What makes you so sure?” The muse scowled. White light pulsed through the gaps in his fist.

  “Because this is my home, and you will respect what I say or leave.”

  “It’s not like he could manage it anyway,” Stone added.

  Kara elbowed him in the gut. “You’re not helping.”

  Smoke billowed from Garrett’s clenched fists. “He’s a murderer, Kara. Killing him will finally free Bailey’s soul after a thousand years. I can finally let my friend die in peace. Why would you deny me that?”

  “Stone awoke me, and he has helped me overcome much of what I am. Not only that, but he tutored the first Vagabond. He and I both owe Stone quite a lot.”

  Garrett’s jaw tensed, and his frown deepened. “If we had known the first Vagabond had ties to Stone, we would never have helped him. We would have never helped you.”

  Kara flinched at the revelation. The muse walked away, his hands shaking as if he was doing his best to control the raging hatred within him.

  Despite the lingering sting of Garrett’s words, she couldn’t let him go. If he left, Kara would lose her last tie to the drenowith. She would never know if Adele died or survived. She would forfeit a powerful ally who, despite leaving her in the cave with Aislynn, had protected her and guided her when she had nowhere else to go.

  “Garrett, stop!” she shouted.

  He hesitated in the hallway, fists still smoking. He didn’t turn. He didn’t speak. But he paused, and Kara counted that as a small victory.

  She took slow steps toward him and kept her voice steady. “The First Vagabond—Cedric—he stopped talking to Stone when he stole Bailey’s soul. He hated Stone for it and blamed himself for the tragedy more than anyone else. Bailey’s freedom isn’t my fight, and I don’t want to get in the middle of it. But I am asking you to please listen. I can only imagine what you’re going through, seeing Stone now. You must feel as much guilt and anger as Cedric did, all because you couldn’t help your friend.”

  The smoke in Garrett’s hands thinned. The light dimmed.

  Kara took a deep breath—that had been a good sign, but she wasn’t out of this yet. “Do you remember when we first met? When you and Adele helped me escape Carden? Adele said I reminded her of someone she failed—and I get it, now. I thought she meant the first Vagabond, but she meant Bailey. I wish I’d known him, I do. But I won’t. What’s done is done, and we can’t look back.”

  “But I can free him. I can let him move on by killing that conniving son of a—”

  “Not in my house, you won’t.”

  “Then get to the point, Kara,” Garrett snapped.

  She lifted her chin. “The point is that even though Bailey may have needed you back then, I need you now.”

  Garrett’s shoulders drooped. The smoke in his hands fizzled out with a hiss. He sighed.

  Kara inched around to see his face. He stared at the floor, water clinging to the edges of his eyes. He swallowed hard.

  “I’ll make you a deal,” she said, her voice almost too quiet to hear.

  He glanced up and caught her eye. His brows twisted upward, shoulders hunched in a sorrow which made her breath catch in her throat. But she had to fight through this. She had to compromise, even though she wasn’t sure which side she was on.

  She forced a smile. “If you don’t kill Stone now, I won’t stop you two from going at it when this whole war is over. You can duke it out then, winner takes all. And I won’t begrudge the victor.”

  “Glad I was involved in that decision,” Stone said with a grumble.

  Kara resisted the impulse to give her mentor the bird. “Is it a deal, Garrett?”

  “I never want to see that vile isen again. Are we clear?” he asked under his breath.

  She sighed. “He’ll be in the same meetings. We can minimize the time you spend near each other, but I can’t promise you’ll never see him.”

  Garrett rubbed his face. The air around his fingers sizzled.

  Without looking away from Garrett, Kara waved at Stone to shoo him into another room. In her peripheral vision, the old isen rolled his eyes and walked back around the corner.

  “So you’ll stay?” Kara asked.

  “For now.”

  “Do you still want to have our talk?”

  Garrett laughed. “Indeed. I believe we have even more to discuss than before.”

  Kara didn’t try to keep track of time while she and Garrett caught up. For an eternally young creature with forever ahead of him, he could certainly accomplish a lot in little over a month.

  Five weeks had passed since Kara was shackled with poisoned chains and dangled as bait to lure Adele. Kara shuddered. Up until then, Aislynn played the perfect queen so well. She was polite, patient, and kind. Kara never saw the betrayal coming, and yet...

  She sighed and rubbed her face. She didn’t quite know how she would face the Bloods again. When she did, she would have to bring an army to make them listen. She would have to terrify them into respecting her. She could do it, of course. She just wasn’t sure if that was a smart thing to do.

  Despite the cheery sunlight streaming through her windows, Kara couldn’t shake her guilt. Shame pooled in her gut as she told Garrett about what really happened the day Aislynn lured her to be bait for Adele. The truth of the matter was Aislynn hadn’t been the only one to betray her. Gavin, Frine, and Ithone had agreed to duel for the right to control Kara because they knew they would lose her trust after they tried to kill Adele. The losers would to split whatever they found in her village.

  If Garrett helped her, he would be helping those who had tried to kill Adele.

  Once she told him everything, silence settled into the room. He stared at her, eyes crisp and focused, but he didn’t say anything. Eventually, he turned toward a portrait by the door. Kara sat in her chair, elbows on her desk. A few sunbeams cast spotlights on bits of the hardwood floor. The room darkened now and again as a cloud passed by the sun, but the light still glinted off gold lettering on various books in her library.

  Garrett continued to stare at the picture. With his back to her, she couldn’t tell if he was lost in thought or studying the portrait.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked.

  “I’m trying to figure out who painted this,” he answered.

  “Shouldn’t you be more concerned with the fact that none of the Bloods are trustworthy?”

  “I already knew.”

  “But if you help them—”

  “I’m not helping them.”

  Kara sat back in her chair and waited for him to elaborate. He would continue when he was ready.

  He crossed his arms. “I’m helping you. I’m helping the future generations of Ourea. I’m sick of seeing all the blood and death. Ourea is my home. I want it to be great again.”

  Kara nodded and let out a shaky sigh of relief. She relaxed into her chair. Neither of them spoke for quite a while, and she didn’t mind. It was nice to merely sit and think, even if those thoughts did take her constantly back to the night she nearly lost one of her only friends.

  “Can I see Adele?” she finally asked.

  He shook his head. “I never show anyone my home, not even you. It’s the only way to keep it hidden.”

  She nodded. “I understand.”

  “Do you know who this is?” he asked, pointing to the portrait.

  A tanned man with black hair smiled back at her from the painting, an air of mischief about him. Maybe it was the way he tilted his head, or the curve of his eyebrow. Kara couldn’t tell. She imagined he would be the sort of person who always had a thrilling story, or who could make her laugh whenever she needed to smile.

  “No,” she admitted.

&n
bsp; Garrett snorted. “Figures.”

  She frowned. “No need to be rude. Who is it?”

  “Bailey.”

  Kara sat straighter. “Why wouldn’t Stone or the first Vagabond tell me?”

  Garrett shrugged. “Probably because you never asked.”

  She leaned back but didn’t respond. In all fairness, she’d been a bit distracted to ask about pictures.

  “Have you ever heard of the Broken Trinity?” Garrett asked.

  “No.”

  “It’s the only artifact I know of that can subdue a drenowith. It renders us immobile when used properly. Aislynn had one, and she knew exactly how to use it. It’s how she forced a muse as powerful as Adele in—uh, into...”

  He cleared his throat and closed his eyes.

  Kara wanted to give him a hug but refrained. “It’s okay. If you could talk about what Aislynn did to her without showing emotion, I would think you were heartless.”

  He let out a quiet laugh. “Thank you.”

  She nodded. “So Aislynn used this artifact called a Broken Trinity? How did she get it?”

  Garrett gripped the edge of the nearest bookshelf. A crack shot into the wood. “The only remaining Broken Trinities were with Verum.”

  Kara gaped. “With the drenowith leaders? Verum gave her one?”

  “I went to the Council to find out exactly that.”

  “And?”

  Garrett shook his head. “Verum didn’t have any clue as to what happened, but someone else in attendance did. Mirrow.”

  A chill raced through Kara at the muse’s name. While most drenowith preferred a human form, Mirrow appeared as a minotaur when she first met him. He hadn’t spoken much, but he looked ready to kill her at any moment. She couldn’t imagine why, but everything about him seemed off. Wrong.

  Garrett stared into the crack he’d made in her bookshelf. “Mirrow confessed to giving the Broken Trinity to a messenger. A general of Aislynn’s...one named Krik, I believe. Mirrow somehow discovered Adele and I were still helping you.”