Hereditary (Beatrice Harrow Series)

by Jane Washington

  My guardian angel, I thought as I ran to him and let him fold me into his arms.

  “The King requests that the boy leaves now.” Said Grenlow.

  Cale set me gently from him and I turned to look at the guard.

  “Absolutely not.” Cale said.

  “I’d rather he stays.” I added, a little more politely.

  “It’s not up to you, the King makes the rules around here, and you have a job to do. The King has been patient this last week, but now you must fulfil your end of the bargain.”

  I nodded; the steady flow of newly stolen energy that coursed through me prevented me from feeling the weariness that settled in the spot between my shoulder blades at his words. I turned back to Cale and gave his hand a squeeze.

  “It’s all right, I made a promise and he’s right, it’s about time I did my part. I’ll be home tonight.”

  “Come to the castle, we’ll wait for you there.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, but ended up nodding. If I didn’t make it back, at least someone would notice. Grenlow led us both out and back to the beautiful fountain room just inside the castle doors. Nareon waited there, once again coolly detached, and he watched as Cale was lead out the doors before turning back to me.

  “Come, little spitfire. There is much to do.”

  Three hours later, there was still apparently much to do. We had sat in one of the castle gardens—not unlike the gardens in the Read Castle—and I had opened the connection, trying to search for the things that Nareon urged me too. First he had me close my eyes and locate where he stood, which had taken the most time. Once I learnt how to sense the things that weren’t growing from the ground, it became easier to seek the things he asked me to, given that I had seen or felt them before. I didn’t know how long it would take me to progress enough that I would be able to locate the Force users, but Nareon assured me that it was only a matter of time. Once darkness threatened to fall, I insisted that I needed to return, and he walked me back to the stables and saddled the same horse that was supposed to be tethered to a post outside my cottage.

  “How’d it get back here?” I asked in surprise, as Nareon helped me up into the saddle.

  “A common inheritance ability among the synfees is an ability to communicate with animals, the stronger your power is, the more that communication leans toward persuasion.”

  Once I was atop the horse, Nareon paused, holding the reins as he looked up at me.

  “Don’t wait so long next time, Bea. My people need you, and you need me.”

  I nodded, not knowing what else to say to that, and he handed me the reins. The ride back to the other castle was tiring, because the journey was a long one. It would have taken less time to return to Sparrow’s Settlement, but the books that I would need for classes in the morning were still in Rose’s room, so I resigned myself to the task of getting there without falling asleep in the saddle. Hazen must have sensed me coming even before I reached the gate, for he was waiting for me when I arrived, leaning up against the wall, talking to one of the guards. Their conversation dropped off when I slid off the horse, and the guard stepped forward to catch the reins, giving me an easy smile. I recognised him by now, and smiled in return, hoping that the surprise stayed off my face. Hazen looked me over, and then gently began to lead me through the gates.

  “Cale and Rose are both waiting, they’ll be relieved to see you’re alright.”

  “Does Cale live here or something?”

  He laughed, “Cale’s father is like your own, Bea. His mother died when he was younger and his father is barely here. My own mother practically raised him, and his father keeps a house here in the Market District.”

  “I see. So are you going to tell me what this thing on my neck is?”

  I hadn’t even remembered it until I once again saw Hazen, and I drew away Rose’s shawl now, seeing his eyes flick to my neck and then just as quickly look away.

  “It’s something I have feared since I first sensed the darkness in your mind.”

  “And?”

  “And Joseph’s reaction on Friday confirmed it. You’re marked.”

  “What?”

  “Your father is too, you never noticed it?”

  I shook my head mutely and then paused, my step faltering as we began to ascend the staircase leading up to the first floor, almost causing me to fall over.

  “Wait, you’re not talking about that sun on his arm, the tattoo?”

  His lips pulled into a humourless smile, and I felt an image flash through my mind, one that didn’t belong to any of my memories. It was a detailed sketch of a mark very similar to the one my father had on his forearm. It was shaped almost like a sun, but the beams were diamond-shaped, and regimented in their evenly spaced positions, with straight, spiky lines between each. Right in the centre of the sun likeness, was a straight, simple dagger, the steel somehow managing to glint wickedly even in black-and-white.

  “Yes,” I said slowly, “that’s it. He said got it at some travelling carnival.”

  “And most people wouldn’t know any better.”

  “I’m not following, Hazen.”

  “It’s the death mark. Your father has a killing ability.”

  A year ago, I would have slapped him, or maybe even laughed in his face. But now, I considered what he said. Because only this afternoon I had pulled away my glamor and confronted the driving need to kill the three people that stood nearby. And my father was commander of the Black Guard. If anyone had a skill for killing, it was him.

  “When Joseph mentioned the push, of your strongest power to act without your consent, the more time you went without feeding, I read his mind and saw what he was talking about. His push wasn’t correlated with your darkness. That mark means something very dangerous, Bea, more so in your position.”

  We had reached the door of the chamber that I had slept in the last time, and I quickly put my hand on his arm before he went any further.

  “What do I do?” I asked him, trying to remain calm.

  “Go back to Joseph, I don’t know what his problem is, but you need him.”

  I need a lot of people, it seems.

  I released Hazen and he pushed open the door, revealing Rose, who was asleep in an armchair beneath the window, and Cale, who stood up and strode straight over to us, assessing my appearance just as Hazen had. I gave him a forced smile, and went over to wake up Rose, who gave me a relieved hug and then went off for bed, telling me that she’d leave out something for me to wear tomorrow. Hazen left with her, and Cale ruffled my hair before he turned to go as well.

  “Cale?” I called out, before the door closed behind him.

  He paused, his head re-appearing.

  “Thank you for today.”

  “Anytime little synfee, you’re one of us now.”

  I slept very badly that night, taunted by dreams of a lurking man at the edges of my consciousness, ambiguous stabs of pain and panic wracking my mind in intervals broken up by a foggy, debilitating confusion. So when I got to the Academy the next morning, dressed in a thin, lilac cotton dress with a ruffled hem and a v-neckline that had me wearing my hair down in a vain attempt at modesty, I felt almost depressed enough to seek out Joseph as Hazen had told me to. I planned to do it after classes, when there wouldn’t be so many students around to witness me being thrown from the top of the watchtower, if it came to that. However, as I sat in Coercion Ethics that morning, Hazen once again by my side, an unexpected surprise had me abandoning my plans.

  A knock at the door interrupted Professor Mont mid-sentence, and she glanced toward the offending sound, apparently considering ignoring it altogether, until it sounded again.

  “Enter!” She snapped.

  A scared-looking first year poked his head into the room and scurried over to Mont, handing her a small roll of parchment, and then bolting again for the door before she could use the parchment to beat him for interrupting her class. We were all somewhat dumbfounded I think, because the mechanical
birds were usually the message-carriers around the Academy, but Mont unrolled the parchment with only annoyance still colouring her expression. After she finished reading, she tossed the scroll to her desk.

  “There has been a mandatory class introduced for all senior students and above. It will take the place of your last lesson every Monday, and will be held in the Sand Theatre off-grounds. And I will repeat, this is mandatory.”

  Her announcement was met with a flurry of whispering speculation, which she quelled with a narrow-eyed look, before turning back to the graph she had been explaining, which depicted a circle of reactions that stemmed from influencing a person’s thoughts or behaviours. Before she could speak, however, a girl in the front row shot up her hand, and Mont sighed.

  “Yes, Castlebury?”

  “What is the class?”

  “I have not been given that information.”

  I wondered if it were just me, or if the others could also tell that she was lying. I snuck a look at Hazen, whose eyes were narrowed.

  “What is it?” I whispered to him, just as the girl shot up her hand again.

  “Oh what now?” Mont asked.

  Hazen leaned toward me, his voice low as the girl asked who would be teaching the class.

  “Her mind has been open the whole lesson, but now it’s suddenly closed off.”

  I looked back to Mont, awaiting her answer just as the others did, and could see that she was considering answering this question honestly, her lips pursed, clearly impatient to get on with her lesson.

  “Professor Harbringer.” She finally said, “now no more questions.”

  The room erupted into sudden chaos, and Mont’s face grew red. I couldn’t even make out what people were saying, as there were too many voices trying to talk over the top of others, so instead I watched Mont, who walked into the middle of the classroom and sliced her hand through the air in one sharp, belligerent motion. Momentarily, the breath left my throat, and my lips pressed together, refusing to open no matter how much I urged them to. Looking around in a slight panic, I noticed that everyone else was the same.

  “Now,” said Mont, moving back down to her diagram, “as we can see here, controlling the bodily functions of a person can sometimes lead to that person having severe panic attacks, if done for too long.”

  She waved her hand again, and I found myself once again in control, but the classroom stayed quiet this time, and as the lesson finally finished, I found that I wasn’t the only one in a rush to escape Mont.

  “She’s a nutter.” I muttered to Hazen as we walked out into the sunshine, heading for the table beneath the cherry-blossom tree, where I had begun to sit with the rest of their group.

  He chuckled and Cale, who was already lazing on the table, playing with the petals of a fallen flower, perked up.

  “Who’s a nutter?”

  “Professor Mont. She literally took our breath away for a few seconds and compelled us not to speak.”

  “Ah, Mad Mont. She was penalised by the Academy board for that last year, she’s supposed to be on her last warning, but they’ll never fire her, she’s insanely powerful, and insanely smart, so it kind of outweighs the fact that she’s just plain insane.”

  I sat down next to Cale as I saw Kaylee approaching, and fell back to stare up at the web of branches above me.

  “I suppose you already know about Harbringer’s lesson this afternoon?” I asked him, watching as a blossom began to float down, fluttering through the air until it came to rest on the gentle rise-and-fall of my stomach.

  “Yeah, wonder what brought this on.”

  “I don’t know. Are you going to go?”

  He relaxed back down next to me, and I could sense more people arriving, though I had eyes only for the flowers above me.

  “I have to, don’t I?”

  I laughed, “like that stops you, Cale.”

  “Right,” he snorted, “but that’s before the famous Harbringer decided to come out of retirement.”

  “What’s this?” Asked Alton, his face appearing in my line of sight.

  I had noticed that Alton’s blue eyes only ever cringed when he was looking at me; otherwise they seemed to be constantly dancing with laughter.

  “Didn’t you hear?” answered Cale, “Harbringer is being pulled out of retirement to teach the mysterious lesson this afternoon.”

  “No way!” Alton seemed to forget his dislike of me momentarily, and there were a few other gasps around us, “you mean Joseph Harbringer?”

  “The one and only.” Came Hazen’s dry voice.

  I picked myself up when I realised that all the others had gathered, and slipped off the table, onto the bench seat, the blossom tumbling from my stomach.

  “What do you think it’s about?” asked Kai, smoothing over her short, shiny bob, “and should I go home and change?”

  Kaylee giggled, and Cale rolled his eyes.

  “He’s like a hundred years old or something.” Kaylee said, flicking a carrot stick at her friend.

  “Yeah, but he’s supposed to be immortal Kay, which means he probably still looks hot, right?”

  “I’ve heard that he just ages differently, like one year for every two of ours. Some of the rangers are like that.” Said Robert, pushing a dark lock of hair behind his head.

  “What else did you hear?” Kai sounded as if Robert was a reputable source for information.

  “That the tainted creatures are planning another uprising, and that they want to teach the senior students to fight.” He supplied.

  Four sets of eyes swung toward me, except Hazen and Cale, who looked instead to each other, but it was Rose who came to my rescue, having reached the table just in time to hear Robert’s comment. She looped her arms around my neck and planted a smacking kiss right on the top of my head.

  “If they were afraid of the tainted creatures revolting, I’m pretty sure I’d know about it. Because, you know, my father is the King…”

  “We’ll see.” Said Robert mildly, and I was forced to remember who his father was.

  The Peacock Knight was another famous fighter, though he was of a very different caliber to Harbringer. He had once belonged to the King’s Guard, but had apparently been discharged for ‘reckless’ behaviour. He was a shape-changer, and his ever-changing, brightly-coloured appearance was what had earned him his name. That wasn’t what he had been famous for though, instead, it was his fighting that had gartered him attention and praise. It was rumoured that there wasn’t a single person who could go up against the Peacock Knight and win. He often welcomed impossible odds, and always walked away with barely a scratch. If the tainted creatures were planning a revolt, was it possible that the Peacock Knight knew something about it?

  After lunch, Rose and I walked to Domestic Manipulation of Common Specialties, and found seats tucked away at the back of the class where we might have a chance at speaking without Hectarte noticing.

  “Kai is skipping this period to go home and change.” She whispered as we got out our books, “she wants a famous boyfriend, and she’s set her sights on Harbringer.”

  “After meeting the guy, I almost feel sorry for her.”

  Rose snorted, “he won’t even look at her. The only reason he talks to Hazen and Cale is because they have undefined abilities that nobody else has. I guess he admires strength, and if his history is all true, I’m not surprised.”

  “Well she’s not the only one who’s going to feel let down.” I muttered, looking around at the girls of the classroom, who were all currently engaged in frantic whispering, not unlike Rose and myself.

  “You know he doesn’t look all that different.”

  “Huh?” I looked back to Rose, suddenly feeling lost, “Harbringer?”

  “Yeah,” she poked me, admonishing me for not paying attention, “the way he looks now, it’s not all that different to how he looked before he took on the synfee power, it must be a glamor or something, but that’s why nobody knows about it.”

  “H
e’s always been that good-looking? Was one of his parents fae or something?”

  She smirked at my answer, and I realised the trap a little too late.

  “I knew you noticed. Sometimes you’re so shut off, it’s hard to tell.”

  “You’re a worry Rose.”

  She grinned, and then we had to break away from each other for a few minutes as Hectarte walked past, tapping her finger on the page of the book I was supposed to be reading.

  “Anyway, he’s not fae, he was actually a renegade.” She whispered, once the professor had moved out of earshot again.

  “Wait, what?” I hissed, earning another glare from Hectarte.

  “The renegades weren’t always bad you know. They were all rangers at some point, but when most of them broke away from the Read’s rule, they were renamed the renegades. Joseph was one of them until they joined forces with the synfees, then he came back and fed the King information. He was re-instated as a low-entry soldier, and almost single-handedly won the war.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you think he has the synfee… erm… appetite?”

  “No, else they wouldn’t have asked him to come and teach here, and then let him stay on Academy grounds after he retired.”

  We shut up then, because Hectarte was starting to make her way back to us, and I could tell that all the interruptions were beginning to make her angry. Her blue hair almost trembled with agitation.