Prophecy Unravelled- Heir Series Box Set

by Rin Grey

  Elizabeth led the way into the living room, surveyed it for a moment, then asked Mitch to help her move the couch. She moved a few other pieces of smaller furniture against the walls too, then rolled up the rug, leaving only the bare floorboards. She stood in the middle of the clear space and waved Mitch to a spot opposite her.

  “Now,” she said. “As a mage, you have two options open to you in terms of defence. Your magic, or a sword. I suppose you can include your fists too, but if you want to go that route, you’ll have to find someone else to teach you. It’s not my forte.”

  Mitch nodded and focused all his attention on what she was saying. “Why would I need a sword if I have magic?”

  “Well, the obvious answer is that there will be occasions when you don’t have that option, such as when you have already used your magic. But more importantly, to use magic or not in any situation is a decision that needs to be weighed very carefully. And it’s hard to do that if magic is your only option.”

  Butterflies settled in Mitch’s stomach. “Why would I need magic or a sword? I’m not the heir anymore. No one is going to bother me.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “Being Jocelyn’s heir isn’t the only thing that is going to happen in your life. You’re a mage. Do you think you’re going to be able to stand by and watch an injustice be done? What if you saw someone hurting a child? Could you just stand by and watch?”

  “Of course not.”

  “In that case, isn’t it best that you know how to defend yourself?”

  Mitch was sure there was a hole in her logic somewhere. He just couldn’t find it right now. Probably his mother would explain just what it was later, but right now, he didn’t care. “I guess so.”

  Apparently that was enough discussion for Elizabeth, for she said firmly, “Draw your sword,” and drew hers with practiced ease.

  Mitch tried to copy her. He pulled the sword the length of his arm out of the scabbard, intending to do so with the same flourish she did.

  Unfortunately, due to his arm being slightly shorter than Elizabeth’s, the tip remained entangled and his planned smooth draw was botched.

  He could only be thankful that at least he hadn’t dropped the sword.

  He felt his face heat and glanced over at Elizabeth, sure he would find her laughing. But she just held the sword in front of her, waiting.

  Mitch brought up his sword, trying to copy her, and her approving nod calmed his agitation a little.

  “Keep your legs apart and your left foot slightly behind your right one. Stability is one of the key factors in winning or losing a swordfight. If your opponent can easily unbalance you, you’ve lost before the first swing has even been made.”

  Mitch nodded, biting his lip in concentration as he tried to mirror her foot positions.

  “Better. Now, there are many different ways for you to hold your sword, but for now, the most effective position for a beginner is with the sword directly in front of you. The hilt of the sword should be level with your navel, and the blade pointing towards your opponent. Like this, your sword is in a position to block most blows from your opponent with minimal movement.” She demonstrated as she spoke.

  Mitch attempted to hold the sword as she was, feeling self-conscious and awkward.

  “A little higher. That’s right. Now loosen your grip on the sword, or it’s going to jar your whole arm when our swords meet. Your hold should be relaxed, but firm.”

  Mitch tried to follow her instructions but was distracted by a surge of excitement. He was doing it. He was holding a real sword, about to have a real swordfight.

  “Now I’m going to strike at you. Just move to block me if you have to. I’m not going to hurt you, so try to stay relaxed and focused.”

  Mitch nodded. He adjusted his grip on the hilt of the sword and watched Elizabeth, trying to guess where she was going to strike.

  He’d thought he was prepared, but almost faster than he could see, let alone react, Elizabeth’s blade flashed towards him. Because of her instruction, his sword was in a position to block it, but he wasn’t prepared for the force behind the blow. Elizabeth pushed his sword back towards his body, and his own blade swung frighteningly close to his face.

  She pulled back just as suddenly, before the blade reached him. So quickly that he almost lost his balance.

  His face flushed. She must think him stupid, to not be able to block even the simplest of blows. He wished now that he’d disobeyed his mother and practiced swords with the boys in the schoolyard. Then he wouldn’t look so inept.

  Elizabeth’s voice was brusque. “Always keep your eye on your opponent, from the first moment they walk into view, even before they’ve drawn a sword. After a while, you’ll find yourself eyeing every person you meet as a potential opponent, and no one will be able to get a jump on you. Bring your sword up.”

  Mitch brought it up as quickly as possible, just in time to block her next blow. He gritted his teeth and pushed with all his might, and he was rewarded with her pulling back and giving him an approving nod. “Better.”

  Mitch lost track of time as Elizabeth pushed him to repeat the same moves over and over again. He might have thought it was boring—if he had had a spare moment to think, and if he hadn’t been using every muscle and thought to see that she hit the sword, not him.

  “Now it’s your turn,” Elizabeth said finally, stepping back and holding her sword in the same position she’d instructed him to adopt earlier. “See if you can get past my guard.”

  Not needing to be invited twice, Mitch jumped towards her, swinging his sword as hard as he could. The clang as his sword hit hers echoed in his ears, and he didn’t have a moment to recover before Elizabeth’s sword was coming towards him, pushing him backwards.

  This time he actually fell over, landing on his behind on the floor, more embarrassed than hurt.

  He stared up at her, and she held out her hand to him.

  As she helped him to his feet, she continued instructing. “Balance is just as important when attacking as when defending. So is taking your time and watching your opponent. Never react impulsively. Always think your move through, including being aware of all the ways in which it can be used against you.”

  Mitch wondered why she was bothering to teach him at all. It was obvious he had no aptitude for this. Magic was far easier. At least he was good at that.

  As if she were reading his thoughts, she smiled. “I ended up flat on my butt the first time I tried to attack my teacher as well. At least you managed to keep hold of your sword.”

  That made Mitch feel just a little better. And after a few more swings, with Elizabeth correcting and instructing, he began to feel like he might just get the hang of this after all.

  In fact, he was just starting to enjoy himself when the door slammed open and his mother’s voice demanded, “Just what is going on here?”

  In spite of the distraction, Elizabeth blocked Mitch’s swing with the same practiced ease with which she’d blocked all the others. “What does it look like? I’m teaching Mitch how to use a sword.”

  She nodded towards Mitch and sheathed her sword.

  Mitch was relieved to see that sweat beaded on her brow too. He wasn’t the only one who had been exerting himself.

  “And you didn’t think to ask me first? You obviously had enough presence of mind to ensure that I was out of the house.”

  Mitch wasn’t surprised by his mother’s anger, but he was selfishly glad it was directed at Elizabeth, not him. He was tempted to sneak away until his mother calmed down, but he still held Elizabeth’s sword.

  “I thought it would be better if we had uninterrupted time to practice,” Elizabeth replied calmly. “Do you have a problem with Mitch learning to use a sword?”

  “Yes, I do actually. He’s not some mercenary. He has no need of swords and fighting.”

  “I beg to differ, Gemma. He’s a mage. He will come to fighting whether he likes it or not. It’s better if he’s well equipped to do it.”


  His mother stared at Elizabeth for a few moments, looking as though she were about to argue, then instead she burst into tears and fled the room.

  Digger stepped back to let her pass uninterrupted, then raised an eyebrow at Elizabeth. She sighed, unbuckled the sword, and handed it to Digger. “Spar with Mitch till I get back, will you?”

  “Sure,” Digger agreed readily.

  Mitch watched as Elizabeth turned to follow his mother. He wondered what she was going to say. Would she be able to convince his mother to let him keep learning? He hoped so.

  Then his attention was claimed by Digger, whose fighting style was different enough to Elizabeth’s that it seemed to make everything he had learned so far seem irrelevant.

  Chapter 2 - Persuasion

  Elizabeth ran to catch up with Gemma, not sure if she were annoyed or relieved at the interruption. Mitch was doing well, meaning it was almost time to move on to the next step. One she wasn’t looking forward to, but at the same time couldn’t wait to get over and done with.

  First though, she had to figure out why Gemma was so upset. As if she needed more drama.

  “Gemma,” she called after her daughter, who wasn’t slowing down. “Will you at least give me a chance to explain?”

  “What is there to explain?” Gemma retorted, but at least she slowed enough for Elizabeth to catch up with her on the back porch. She didn’t look at Elizabeth as she spoke, her voice bitter. “You’re just like Jocelyn. She wanted Mitch to train with a sword too. I thought when I agreed to let him become the heir that he’d just be running her company, not fighting people. And I thought when he left that position, all that was over. But apparently it’s not. Why?” She turned and looked at Elizabeth, her face agonised. “Why does he need to fight? Why can’t he just have an ordinary life?”

  Elizabeth stared at her daughter, feeling a chasm yawning between them.

  She’d known her life had changed when she’d left—before then, actually, when her magic had first begun to show itself in all its glorious and horrifying power. But until this moment, it hadn’t really hit her how much.

  Gemma lived in a world where people got up and kissed their family and went to work, then came home again, without having done anything more risky than writing a letter of complaint or walking in front of a carriage.

  She wanted that life, for herself and her son.

  And now Elizabeth had to explain to her, to somehow get her to understand, that what she wanted wasn’t possible.

  That wasn’t exactly true. There were mages in the Dome who lived exactly that kind of life, their magic only being used for ordinary, everyday things. But they weren’t mages like Mitch. With his level of power, even in the Dome he’d be different. Just like she’d been.

  Out here, normal was never going to happen.

  “I’m sorry, Gemma, I’m in agreement with Jocelyn on this one. Perhaps not for the same reasons, but she’s right. Mitch isn’t like everyone else. He’s never going to be ordinary, and the more you try to make him, the more he’s going to feel like he doesn’t belong. He needs this, Gemma.”

  Gemma knew it. Elizabeth could see it in her eyes. She just didn’t want to acknowledge it. Didn’t want it to be true.

  “And as usual, it doesn’t matter what I think about it. I’m just his mother, I have no say in his life.” Gemma’s tone carried years of resentment, and Elizabeth wished there was something she could do to erase the hurt.

  Other than apologise for her most recent part in it, which was more than owed. “I’m sorry, Gemma. I should have spoken to you before I began. It never occurred to me that you might have an issue. I didn’t even consider it, to be honest. I just… I’ve been dreading doing this, and that was all I was thinking about.”

  That statement drew Gemma around to face Elizabeth. “What do you mean? What could you possibly be dreading about teaching Mitch to use a sword?”

  Elizabeth sighed. “I wish it were that simple, Gemma. But in reality, the sparring lessons are only the beginning of the final magical control ritual.”

  “What does sword fighting have to do with magical control?” Gemma’s confusion was written plainly on her face.

  Elizabeth wasn’t sure if the explanation was going to help or make things worse, but she owed Gemma the truth, even if her daughter didn’t like it. “It gives him options,” she said softly. “If all he has is his magic, then his instinct is to use it as a first resort. If I can instil reaching for his sword as his first action, then he has a chance to think things through before resorting to magic.”

  Gemma looked horrified at the thought. “How does that help? So he injures someone with a sword instead of magic. What is the difference?”

  Elizabeth searched for the words to even begin to explain. “There’s a big difference to most people. For one thing, he’s on equal ground with whoever he is up against. For another, a swordfight is decidedly slower than a magical attack. There’s more time to think about whether you really want to kill that person, or just incapacitate them.”

  Her daughter’s face twisted in anguish. “I didn’t want any of this for him. I just wanted him to be able to have a normal life. Find a job, settle down, maybe have a family.”

  For a moment, Elizabeth’s heart ached for just that. She’d almost had it. If only her magic hadn’t interfered.

  As Mitch’s had.

  Her voice held a trace of that regret as she said, “I’m afraid that isn’t an option for him, Gemma, and it hasn’t been since the moment he realised he had magical potential. That magic sets him apart in ways you can’t even begin to imagine. He may still do all those things, but it will be as a mage, and the path he will take will be different.”

  She could see the struggle on Gemma’s face. Her daughter was trying to take this all in, but her mind just wanted to reject it. To find another way.

  Elizabeth knew there wasn’t one. “I know you don’t agree with me, but he needs this. Can you trust me?”

  Even as she asked the question, Elizabeth winced inwardly. Why would Gemma trust her after all that she’d done?

  But apparently Gemma was more forgiving than that. She stared at Elizabeth for several long moments before nodding slowly. “I suppose I don’t have a lot of choice. I don’t know the first thing about magic, so I have to trust you. I won’t pretend to like it, but for now I’ll accept it.”

  It was a better response than Elizabeth had expected, and for some reason, even though this was logically about Mitch and not about her, her daughter’s trust warmed Elizabeth’s heart. Impulsively she reached out and gave Gemma a hug. “Thank you.”

  Gemma returned the hug fiercely and muttered, “Just don’t make me regret it.”

  Elizabeth had no intention of that, and part of earning that trust meant she had to complete the final test. She needed to make sure that, unlike her, Mitch would never feel like he had to do anything he’d spend the rest of his life regretting.

  With a sigh, she turned and walked back into the living room.

  Chapter 3 - Control

  Mitch concentrated, his eyes not leaving Digger as the older man circled around him, sword held up. They’d done this several times, and Mitch was almost able to recognise the signs that Digger was about to attack. And he was sure he would have picked up on them this time, if only the door hadn’t opened.

  He looked up to see whether it was Elizabeth or his mother about to berate him, and that was when Digger moved in.

  Mitch was embarrassed to find himself lying on the floor yet again, especially when Elizabeth laughed.

  “Looks like I didn’t miss much.”

  Why did she only ever turn up when he was messing up?

  Mitch was about to hotly defend himself when Digger interjected for him. “Actually, he’s been doing quite well, up until you interrupted us.” He held out a hand to help Mitch to his feet, then turned to Elizabeth. “Are you going to leave it there?”

  “Not yet. I think he has a few more rounds in him,”
Elizabeth said.

  Digger nodded and handed her sword back. “I’ll go and see how Gemma is doing.” And he left the room.

  Mitch looked at Elizabeth, sword still out. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been fighting, but his body was exhausted from the unfamiliar labour, and he would have liked to give it a break.

  “So, do you think you’re ready for a real fight?” she asked him. Her words were challenging, as though she expected to hear he’d had enough.

  Mitch wasn’t going to admit it was close to the truth. He might not be able to beat her, but he could at least not give up.

  “Sure.”

  Elizabeth drew her sword and threw the scabbard to one side.

  For a second, the expression on her face gave Mitch pause. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but suddenly there was nothing benign about her at all. She’d never been a normal grandmother, but this was something else entirely.

  He barely had time to wonder what might be bothering her before she came at him, sword swinging.

  Luckily, instinct took over, and he ducked his head as he flung up his sword. It was a desperate move, but it held. Her sword clanged against his, and he was still in one piece.

  “What’s going on?” he demanded breathlessly, but she didn’t answer. Instead she took another step towards him and swung the sword again. Mitch ducked to one side, twisting around to keep her in sight.

  The living room seemed to shimmer around him as he moved.

  Disorientated, Mitch shook his head, trying to clear it. Something was wrong. A moment ago, he’d been in his mother’s living room sparring with Elizabeth. Now he seemed to be in the woods. He glanced around, confused, and then his eyes widened.

  A dragon was coming straight at him.

  An honest-to-goodness dragon.

  His heart thudded in his chest, and he wanted to rub his eyes to try to figure out if he was seeing things, but there was no time.