Hereditary (Beatrice Harrow Series)

by Jane Washington

  “The King is not Hazen,” he muttered, his voice low as if people might be listening behind his door, “you cannot judge the man by his son. Do you understand what I’m saying, Bea?”

  I nodded, still unable to speak, and struggled to a sitting position, the movement finally bringing a twinge of pain from my otherwise-numb leg.

  “After class, you’ll be moved to the Academy infirmary. We didn’t want to do it while there were still students around.”

  I nodded again.

  “And tomorrow I will take you to the King.”

  I didn’t nod this time, and his face moved closer, his hands falling to his knees as he leant into me. I was torn between breathlessness at the raw savageness of his synfee beauty, and fear of the too-intense, frightening shimmer in his black eyes. I found my heart thudding against my ribs again, and forced down the absurd urge to climb onto the windowsill behind me. A trickle of compulsion reached my mind, and one of his hands settled over the bandage on my thigh, as if to remind me of its presence.

  “You have too many enemies already. You’re not synfee, you’re not human, you’re a threat to anyone and everyone. You’re power is feared and admired, people will want you for it, just as people will hate you for it, how long did you really think you’d last without him noticing?”

  “Forever.” I muttered.

  He laughed, the sound—while appealing—possessed no humour, and I shuddered, but he released another trickle of compulsion, easing the fear away.

  “How do you do that?” I wondered aloud, “with your glamor up?”

  “I don’t wear a glamor.”

  “Oh.”

  His hand was still on my thigh, and I flicked my eyes to it, trying to find a hint of the golden shimmer that covered my own skin without my glamor in place, but I couldn’t see it. And then I realised something else. His hand was still on my leg.

  “Do you feed off desire, like the rest of us?”

  “No.”

  “Do you—” I started to ask him if he had the other synfee appetite, but he cut across me.

  “No, Bea.”

  “So you get all the benefits, and none of the downfalls?”

  “I still have the push.”

  “Right, the push. I suppose it’s as bad as mine. Do people die, when you lose control?”

  The question had been scathing, full of jealousy and bitterness for this beautiful, powerful man who didn’t fear tearing the academy apart with his storms, or killing other people with his black moods. But he smiled when I asked it.

  “My strongest power is the transfer of other people’s power. Once, I lost control, and things started to happen all around me. Things that only the people around me should have been able to do.”

  I narrowed my eyes on his hand again.

  “Wouldn’t you already have had their powers?”

  “No. I used to wear gloves to block it, but in time I managed to control it. I can touch people now with no fear that they will give me their abilities. But the push sucks whatever power is around, and passes it through me. If we lost control at the same time, I imagine the consequences would be catastrophic.”

  I realised why he had had been smiling then, and despite myself, I began to smile too.

  “I know why Nareon didn’t kill me.”

  “Oh?”

  “He loved my mother.”

  I looked up at him, and saw that his eyebrows had shot up.

  “Nareon? Love?” He was stunned.

  “I know he’s evil. I’ve seen it. But when he found out what had happened… what you saw in my head—” I swallowed over the lump that had formed in my throat, and looked back to his hand, needing to avoid the eyes that had forced the scene into my head in the first place.

  “…He lost it. He killed a man. He loves me as well, because he loved her.”

  He fell back, and his hand slid from my leg.

  “Jesus. You feel sorry for him, don’t you?”

  I shrugged, “I told you, I know he’s evil.”

  “But you need him.”

  I sighed, looking away from him again, and staring glumly out of the window, to the forest beyond.

  “I need a lot of people, apparently. I need Hazen to make sure I don’t kill everyone. I need you, to make sure I don’t kill myself. I need Nareon, I need the King, I need…”

  I trailed off, because he was laughing. I shot him a quelling look, and even managed to hold it as he finished and held up his hands.

  “Easy, Harrow. I get the picture.”

  “Bea.” I reminded him again, vaguely.

  Rose knocked on the door then, and Harbringer motioned the door with a lazy wave of his hand. It swung open.

  “Cool.” Said Rose, skipping into the room, “can you teach me that?”

  “Not unless you have a wind ability, a mind-bender ability, and a crazy-abnormal amount of control.” Cale answered her, stepping into the room after her.

  Harbringer looked amused at that, and together, he and Cale manoeuvred me out of the bed. There was a sharp sort of ache that had begun to pulse in my thigh, and my foot had pins and needles, but I suspected that whatever I had been given would still hold until we reached the infirmary. Hazen cleared the top of the stairs as the others helped me to hop to the door, and he took Harbringer’s place at my other side with his usual quiet stoniness.

  The infirmary was beside the administration building, and had close to twenty beds, though all of them were empty when we got there. Somewhat to my surprise, my father was already waiting there, and he rushed over as Cale and Hazen lifted me gently onto one of the beds.

  “God, Bea. When did we switch places?”

  I chuckled, because I found that he was right. He used to be the one always coming home injured, and I was the one who was left alone to worry about him every time he left the house. When the nurse came into the room and started to bustle around me, muttering about careless hunters poaching too close to the walls, I realised that the truth of the incident had stayed between only Harbringer and my friends.

  Once I was settled, Harbringer turned to leave, but paused when he reached the door.

  “Don’t forget our appointment tomorrow Harrow.”

  Nobody seemed to think anything of that, except for Hazen, who stared at the closed door for a long time before turning to look at me.

  You’re going to see my father.

  Yes. There was no point lying to someone who could read your mind.

  Something has changed with Joseph.

  What do you mean?

  “It’s you.” He replied, before turning and also leaving the room.

  Rose peeked at me, and back to the door a few times while Cale suddenly fell into his blank-stare state, and my father simply blinked at the door in surprise. I shrugged at Rose, my stomach beginning to twist in nervous knots as I turned to watch Cale, waiting to see something pass across his expression that could give me a clue as to what Hazen was upset about. Whatever I had been expecting, it wasn’t laughter.

  “Oh dear.” He said, “the synfee strikes again.”

  My eyebrows began to furrow but he held a hand out, “not your fault.”

  “I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about Cale.”

  He shrugged, “Yesterday Harbringer didn’t like you, today he felt different.”

  My father cut in then.

  “Wait, isn’t Joseph teaching again?”

  I held both hands up, glaring down the sparkle in Rose’s eye.

  “That’s enough, just because the guy doesn’t hate me anymore, it doesn’t mean we’ll fall into a wild affair, alright? Everyone just leave it.”

  The nurse came back then, handing me a small plastic cup of yellowish liquid.

  “Drink.” She commanded, without preemption, and then bustled off again.

  It had a horrible, chalky taste, but as it slid down my throat, a wonderful feeling spread through me, and the ache in my leg eased away once again.

  “I could get used t
o this stuff.”

  Cale snorted, “People have tried. It turned their skin yellow.”

  “My skin is already yellow.” I retorted, winking at him.

  He seemed delighted, because I rarely joked, but my father—who was still not used to the turn things had taken since my eighteenth birthday—shifted uncomfortably, until he couldn’t seem to hold it in any longer.

  “I feel ridiculous asking this… but what?” He planted his hands on his hips, looking down at me as he awaited an explanation.

  “Whatever you’re picturing, it’s correct Dad. My skin turns golden when I lift my glamor, just as—”

  “Caroline’s.” he finished for me, taking on a far-away look.

  “Yeah.” I whispered gently, watching the sweet remembrance pass over him.

  It wasn’t until almost eight hours later, as I lay in the infirmary bed, the effects of the yellow drink wearing off again, that I finally faced what I had pushed out of my mind since Hazen stormed out. I felt as if someone were playing a cruel joke on me, because the only thing more absurd than a jealous Hazen was an admiring Harbringer. I didn’t doubt that the latter’s feelings had changed, because I had felt it myself. He wasn’t so different from me. His power had defined his life, driven him to the heights of his crumbling watchtower to live in solidarity like an old man, at only twenty eight. I couldn’t help but wonder if I would be like him in ten years time, only without having saved the kingdom to help me sleep at night. I was more likely to destroy the kingdom, with my Force ability, and the mark on my neck. I was a walking natural disaster waiting to happen.

  But Hazen’s anger made no sense to me.

  Somewhere, a door closed, and I flew into an upright position, staring at the darkened room, the sound awfully loud in the silence of the night. Was the nurse coming to check on me? It must be almost midnight. I strained to follow the footsteps, as they came closer, and stayed as still as I could, my heart beginning to pound as they reached the door. I couldn’t say why, but the obvious care that they were taking to keep quiet, had me convinced that they weren’t supposed to be here.

  I slipped off the bed, biting my lip against the pain, and crept to the bed across from mine, slipping beneath it just as the door opened. I saw two sets of boots, and a muted light swinging gently, in the way that lantern-lights did. They crept up the isle of beds, stopping when they reached mine, where the blankets were ruffled and the pillow still held an indention of my head.

  “She should be here.” The voice belonged to a woman.

  “Check the bathroom, I’ll make sure she isn’t hiding anywhere. If anyone sees you, silence them.” This was a man’s voice, and I recognised it immediately.

  He found out that I talked. He’s here to kill me.

  My heartbeat grew so loud, I could hear it echoing around me, and my breathing became ragged with fear, but the man didn’t seem to notice. He walked to the very end of the room with the woman, who slipped through the nurse’s door. I didn’t pause to check what he would do, as my mind had suddenly been kicked into overdrive, and I crawled with painstaking slowness to the other bed, further away from him. Once I was again hidden, I paused briefly, seeking out the sound of his muted footsteps, still on the other side of the room, and then began crawling again. When I finally reached the last bed, he had finished checking all of the cupboards, behind all of the curtains, and was now beginning to look beneath the beds. I held my breath, knowing that if he got any closer, his light would pick up on my shadow, and yet, there was no way that I would be able to open the door without him noticing.

  Suddenly, the woman came back into the room, and he made a disgusted, frustrated noise, and walked back to her. I began to tremble, and then pushed myself into a crouch, ignoring the steady pain that was growing with each second. I couldn’t wait any longer, I ran for the door.

  The woman cried out, as the man had his back to me, and they both ran for me as I slammed the door. I lashed out with my fire elemental, trying not to set the whole building on fire, while also hoping that I got more than a spark, or a splutter. My panic must have added fuel, for the entire wall to my right suddenly flared up, pushing me back against the other wall with the force of it. I thanked the gods that the nurse’s room was on the other side of the building, and ran for the exit, feeling the heat seeping into my right side, beading sweat across my skin, and clogging my nose with smoke until I finally broke free into the clear night.

  I didn’t pause, even when my leg threatened to collapse beneath me, and continued to run toward the watchtower. When I found the door locked, I started pounding on it, but nobody answered, and eventually, I could see the forms of the man and woman, moving like shifting shadows through the darkness toward me. I sobbed, my leg finally collapsing then, and fell back toward the door. Only it wasn’t the heavy wood that my back collided with, it was Harbringer.

  He angled an arm around my stomach, holding me up, and just stood there, waiting for the two shadows to draw close enough that they separated from the night around them, and became two beautiful people. Their golden synfee coat gave only the impression of two very different-looking individuals. The woman was a short, with plaited, pure-golden hair and yellowish eyes, the man was average height with a shaved head and a dark golden, braided beard. His face was covered in scars, one of them tagging his left eye down at the side, and yet, he was still magnificent. They both drew blades.

  “Davery, Enon. What a pleasure.” Harbringer said pleasantly.

  They looked away from me reluctantly, and then stumbled back a few steps, apparently only just recognizing the man that held me up.

  “Going so soon? But you only just arrived.” I could feel the amusement rumbling in Harbringer’s voice, it reverberated right through me, and made me shudder harder.

  What’s worse than being hunted down by the guy who wants to kill me?

  Being stuck in the middle of a Harbringer battle.

  “Renegade power-thief.” The woman spat.

  The man—whom I assumed was Davery—grabbed her arm, his eyes wary, but she yanked herself free, lurching forward. She didn’t get more than an inch, before some invisible force slammed into her, but she seemed to be ready for it, she swiped it aside with her arm and charged again. Harbringer stepped easily to the side, dragging me with him, and a cascade of ice-crystals shattered to the ground, right where we had been standing.

  I wanted to cover my eyes, pretend that I was a little girl again on the back of my father’s horse, determined not to look at the ground rushing beneath my feet, trusting that he wouldn’t let me fall. But I couldn’t, because I knew better now. If I closed my eyes, my chances of dying edged ever-so-slightly higher.

  A rip of flame burst through the air toward us, but it quickly evaporated into steam, and then another barrage of ice-crystals materialised, except this time, they were in the shape of actual daggers, and they weren’t falling, they were coming toward us front-on. I twitched away, but Harbringer waved his hand lazily, and I touched the mist that sprayed across my face with shaky fingers.

  “Enough.” He growled.

  He hitched me up higher, until my feet left the ground, and took a few steps back, moving us into the doorway of the watchtower. Both Enon and Davery now looked determined not to let me get away, and they darted forward, but the ground beneath their feet began to rumble, and Davery paused, shooting a hand out to grab his partner again. The earth suddenly rose as if a wave were passing beneath the surface, and a crack splintered out beneath their feet.

  They cast me one last glance, and then they were gone, the woman shouting abuse over her shoulder.

  “Cat’s outta the bag.” I gasped, as Harbringer hauled me back a few paces and then slammed the door.

  “They won’t be back, not tonight at least. Are you hurt?”

  He set me down, and a flickering light flared to life. It was a pear-shaped ball of contained flame, hovering above the palm of his hand. I looked down just as he did, confused because the adrenalin
e currently pushing its way through me was making it hard to assess the damage. The right side of my already bloodied dress was now singed, the left sleeve looked to have been burnt off altogether, and the skin beneath was red. My bandage was soaked-through with blood.

  “I set the Infirmary on fire. You should go and check to make sure the nurse is alright.”

  He nodded, and helped me up the stairs the way only a ranger can, carrying most of my weight as he shouldered the door open, dodged a stack of books and set me down on the bed, shoving his blanket into my hand and holding it against my re-opened wound.

  “Keep it there.” He muttered, before disappearing again.

  The bed was still warm, and I felt guilty for bloodying up his sheets, but as the adrenaline wore off, other complaints soon took over my mind. My shoulder was tingling unpleasantly, and the way the material of my dress clung to my side had me scared that it had melted into my skin. I turned to stare out of the window, wondering if maybe Harbringer was wrong. Would they come back, now that he wasn’t here to protect me? My own fire had almost destroyed me, but it had barely seemed to ruffle them. I didn’t stand a chance.

  I felt my panic quicken again, and I stared so hard at the line of trees that by the time Harbringer returned, there were tears stinging the corners of my eyes.

  “She’s had quite a fright, but she wasn’t harmed. The fire won’t start up again, but you really did a number on that building.”

  He slammed the door shut, turned a lock and lugged an oversized medical bag to me, dropping it beside the bed and dragging a chair over. He lit a few lanterns stationed on stacks of books close to the chair, and a candle melted into the windowsill behind my head. I relaxed only slightly, now that the danger of being attacked again had dissipated.

  “Am I going to be in trouble?”

  “No. I told her that the people who attacked you did it.”

  “Oh. Why?”

  “I suppose lying for you is becoming habit. Now what have you got on beneath that dress, because I need to treat those burns.”

  I didn’t think it was possible to blush as I bled out, but apparently it was. I could feel it burning hotly on my face. He seemed to notice, and he frowned, giving me another one of those bone-chilling looks.