Heir of Thunder (Stormbourne Chronicles Book 1)

by Karissa Laurel

  “No,” I said. “You set the pace. I’ll keep up.”

  Chapter 32

  Gideon and I hurried through Steinerland and caught up to Aodan as the cramped buildings of the city spread out again. A dark forest enshrouded the majority of the castle, which sat high on a distant rise. Warm lights burned in its windows, appearing like tiny fireflies from this distance.

  “Did you talk some sense into her?” Aodan asked without looking back at us.

  “I wasn’t sure before,” I said, “but now I’m absolutely certain I don’t like you.”

  Gideon coughed and smothered a laugh, but Aodan gave me a black look. “Feeling’s mutual.”

  “Gideon, what are you to Daeg?” I asked, ignoring Aodan’s insolence. “Are you related?”

  Aodan snorted. Gideon cut his eyes to him, frowning as he said, “My mother’s sister was Daeg’s second wife. He was briefly my uncle.”

  “Was?”

  “My father is notoriously hard on his women,” Aodan said. “Gid’s aunt lasted the longest of them all, so far. Vater’s on his third wife, now.”

  Gideon’s hands grasped the leather of Wallah’s reins and his knucklebones pressed white against his skin. If I were Aodan, I wouldn’t have had the courage to turn my back on Gideon, but he continued to chatter in ignorance. “Gid here is bereft of motherly influence in his life. His mum died giving birth to his sister, and his aunt raised him until Vater finished her off. How old were you then, Gid?”

  Wearing a rancid smile, he waited for Gideon’s response. I had known Gideon long enough to understand the depth of his rage at that moment. Why hadn’t he already punched this idiot in his horrible mouth?

  “You were about nine or ten, then,” Aodan continued. “I was six, I think. I remember you, standing there at her funeral, brave as a little man, refusing to shed a tear.” He paused and narrowed his eyes at me. “I idolized Gideon, like a big brother. Father has always treated him like a son, and that is just as well since Gid’s own father is a drunken sot who can raise a glass, but not a son... or my father’s horses anymore. What do you think it was that did him in, Gid, your mum’s death, or the fact that she left him with a soft-headed daughter in her place?”

  Gideon never had a chance to respond. Before I could think about it, I had reared back and thrown a solid fist into the brat’s rotten mouth. At the same moment, the heavens exploded over us and sent down a pounding flurry of rain and wind. Aodan, never expecting a girl to behave in such a way, had failed to duck. I hit him hard enough to send him stumbling, hunched over and clutching his face.

  He recovered and came back, angling for a fight. “How dare you, you little—” A massive paw clamped around his neck and lifted him from his feet as Gideon slammed him to the ground and leaned into Aodan’s chest with a heavy knee.

  He spoke with eerie calm. “Insult me all you like, but you won’t lay a hand on her.”

  “I won’t have to,” Aodan choked. “Vater is going to do more than lay a finger on her if she doesn’t do exactly what he says.” A bolt of lightning streaked through the sky and illuminated the scene. Rain churned the dirt road into mud and splattered Aodan’s pale face in brackish plops.

  “Now, now, children.” We all turned to see a cloaked and hooded figure, seated upon a tall black horse, emerging from the darkness. “This is not the sort of homecoming I envisioned for our guest.”

  A familiar, blond youth flanked the speaker’s left side, and another cloaked figure, slimmer and shorter, flanked his right.

  “They attacked me,” Aodan croaked as Gideon released him.

  “You should be able to defend yourself,” the dark figure said. “No doubt your quick mouth and slow wit got the best of you again.”

  Aodan hung his head as he got slowly back to his feet.

  The stranger twisted in his saddle and turned his face to me. “It was a clear evening when we set off from the castle a short while ago. I’m guessing by the severity and suddenness of the storm that my son has done something to upset you.”

  “Your son?” I said. “Then you are—”

  “Lord Aeolus Daeg, and you are Evelyn Stormbourne. Come my dear, we’ve been expecting you.”

  Lord Daeg, his nephew Loren, Aodan, and an older gentleman, introduced to me only as Steig, escorted Gideon and me for the final mile of our journey, most of it leading through a dark forest. The gate at the entrance to Daeg’s estate stood wide open, and lights blazed in welcome. Much of the ride passed in a haze as my thoughts spun over recent revelations, particularly Aodan’s words about Gideon’s family: an alcoholic father and a sister who was “soft headed”? What was that supposed to mean, I wondered? Lord Daeg said he had been expecting me. Was it because Loren had announced our arrival, or for another reason—a reason having to do with Gideon’s plans to bring me here from the beginning?

  I had so many questions for Gideon, but Lord Daeg shuffled us through the imposing entrance of his grand home and into a dining room where the staff had begun to serve dinner. Daeg swept his cloak aside and handed it to a waiting servant. The lord of the house wasn’t much taller than me, but he had the build of a bull: thick neck, tough hide, and a wide, flat nose. He had Loren’s bright blond hair, but he wore it long and loose. His cloak had kept him exceptionally dry, as my Thunder Cloak had done for me, and I wondered about its make and origin.

  Aodan, Loren, and Steig took a seat at a large table at the front of the room near a cavernous fireplace. Several quiet ladies watched us enter the room with wary gazes and murmured greetings to the men.

  Daeg motioned to two empty seats at the opposite end of the table. “Fill your belly, Evelyn, and then we shall see you tucked into bed. We have much to discuss tomorrow, and you’ll need rest.”

  Gideon pulled out my seat before slipping into his own at my side.

  “I don’t like this,” I whispered when he handed me a basket of dark brown rolls. I selected one and placed it on my plate without taking my eyes from his hazel ones.

  Gideon leveled his gaze at Daeg, but spoke so only I could hear. “Try to get along with him. He is no one to trifle with.”

  “But what does he want with me?”

  Before he could respond, Daeg clanked his fork on his glass, bringing everyone’s attention around to him. “I’d like to welcome a new member to our household. Let’s raise our glasses and be thankful that a lost sheep has returned to her fold, even if it is hundreds of years late. To Evelyn Stormbourne.” He raised his glass. “May your roots grow deep and your branches spread wide in this, your new home.”

  “Hear hear!” A woman to Daeg’s right raised her glass above her head and everyone followed her example.

  I gave him a stunned nod, and he winked. I hoped he didn’t expect me to say anything because I had nothing prepared. Every moment since touching down on the soil of Dreutch—since leaving Fallstaff—had been a surprise. Particularly his announcement that this was supposed to be my home.

  “Loren tells me a Fantazike airship delivered you to Dreutch,” Daeg said as everyone tucked into his or her dinners. “What an adventure that must have been, Evelyn. Won’t you tell me about it?”

  Because I couldn’t think of any reason not to, I recited my story from meeting the first Fantazike in the dining room of the Bull and Ram until the Tippanys set us down on the north side of the Omeg Mountains. I left out many parts, though, especially those dealing with Le Poing Fermé and their intentions for my union with Jackie.

  “To have a Fantazike as an ally is a wondrous accomplishment.” Daeg sounded truly impressed. “I have always wondered what it would be like to fly in one of their ships.”

  “For the right price you could probably talk any of them into giving you a ride,” I said.

  “For the right price!” Daeg hooted. “That is their clan motto, I bet. Ours is Fortune Assists the Daring, and the Stormbournes always said, Royal is my Race. I think I like the Fantazikes’ the best: For the Right Price.” He laughed again.


  “Excuse me,” I said, interrupting his fit of mirth. “But, how do you know so much about me, while I only found out about you in the last few days?”

  Daeg’s good humor fled. I started to kick myself for bringing up such a sensitive topic so indelicately, but Gideon beat me to it, swinging his boot sharply against my shin.

  “Your father never spoke of me, did he? Why am I not surprised?” Daeg studied me for a moment while he drank from his cup, a spiced red wine I didn’t care for. “I expect you’ll have plenty of opportunities to make up for all the knowledge you lack, during your time here in my castle.”

  “And how long will that be? My tenure at your castle?”

  Daeg stared at me for another prolonged moment before he answered. “I said this was your home, now. How long you will make it yours is up to you.”

  “So I could leave tomorrow if I like?” Gideon kicked me again, but I ignored him.

  Daeg’s stare turned icy. “But where would you go?”

  “I have friends,” I said feebly. Malita, Antonio and Anatella, the Tippanys... someone would help me, right?

  “But child, this is your family.” Daeg sounded almost serpentine as the words slid from his tongue.

  I opened my mouth to deny it, but Gideon grabbed my knee and squeezed, digging his fingers into my flesh. I swallowed my retort and turned my attention to the remainder of my meal.

  After dinner, Lord Daeg stood and took his leave. The woman beside him exited as well, taking her retainers with her. I could only assume she was Daeg’s wife. He had never bothered introducing her or any of the other women. Maybe he didn’t bother introducing women when, like Gideon’s aunt, he considered them disposable.

  Gideon and I remained at the table with Aodan and the other two men. A girl materialized from the shadows in the corner to clear the discarded plates, and Gideon stiffened beside me. “Marlis?” he said, rising from his seat.

  “Oh, how heartwarming,” Aodan said through a mouthful of roast hen.

  Gideon glared until Aodan turned his attention to another helping of potatoes.

  Curiosity replaced my appetite, and I pushed my plate aside and followed Gideon. When he reached the girl, he embraced her. Their familiarity took me by surprise, sending a spark of a strange emotion sizzling through my blood. Before I could explore the feeling further, he turned to me with a bright smile. “Evie, meet my sister, Marlis.”

  Sister. My tense muscles relaxed, and I crossed the few steps between us and smiled at her. The family resemblance was obvious, and I felt stupid for not noticing sooner. She had hair like her brother’s, light brown with pale streaks running through it, though hers was straighter and glided down her back in a glossy sheet. She also shared Gideon’s granite colored eyes. She studied me as well, and for a moment, seemed afraid.

  “Marlis,” Gideon said. “This is Evie. She’s my friend. I hope she’ll be yours as well.”

  Marlis gave her brother a questioning look, but seemed to accept his words. I didn’t know what to expect when she flung her arms wide, but then she pulled me into an exuberant hug. Her happiness was infectious, and I couldn’t help hugging her back.

  Gideon has a sister. Who knew? He seemed such a singular being. I could hardly believe another person shared his bloodline.

  “What are you doing in the castle?” he asked. “Why aren’t you with Father?”

  Her glee drained away, and tears brimmed in her big, somber eyes.

  “Is he at home?” Gideon asked. Marlis shook her head and stared down at her feet. A tear glistened at the corner of her eye. He caught it with his thumb before it tracked down her cheek. “What’s this for?”

  “Oh, did I forget to tell you?” Aodan called from across the room. He leaned back in his seat and smiled like a weasel would smile, if it could. “Your sister’s come to work in the castle. Your father fell ill over the winter, and she couldn’t care for him anymore.”

  “So where is he now?” Gideon asked.

  “Vater tried to offer him a place in the castle, and whatever treatment the healer from town could give him, but your father refused. I haven’t seen him since.”

  It obviously pleased Aodan to give Gideon the bad news, and my disgust and loathing for the odious boy rooted deeper in my heart.

  Gideon turned his troubled face back to his sister. “Is this true?” Another tear rolled down her cheek, and she nodded until her chin settled on her chest. “Do you know where he is, now?”

  She shook her head, and my heart wrenched for our shared pain of lost fathers.

  Gideon rubbed his eyes and sighed. “I’ve got to find him,” he said. “Marlis, can you take care of Evie, find her a place to sleep?”

  Marlis perked up and nodded again. She had said nothing throughout our encounter, but she communicated well without words. What was this tendency of mine, making acquaintances of people with whom I couldn’t speak? At least it had made me proficient in the dialect of mood and gesture. Nothing about Marlis’s interactions with us indicated she had any problems with her head—only her tongue. I would have asked about her condition, but it was hardly the proper time to bring up such a delicate subject.

  “Good,” Gideon said and hugged Marlis before turning to me. “Evie, you can trust my sister, even if you have no confidence in me. There isn’t a purer spirit in the world, and she’ll keep you safe.”

  The way he spoke of his sister made me feel I could believe him, even if I didn’t trust him. Gideon knew more than he had said, and that disturbed me. He brought me to this place where people knew about me, but I knew nothing of them and seemed to keep finding ways to avoid my questions.

  “I’ll go with her,” I said. “But you promised me answers.”

  He cupped my cheek with an unexpectedly soft touch. “And you deserve them. I’ll find you tomorrow, and we’ll talk then.”

  With that, he spun on his heel, strode across the room, and disappeared through the doorway. Marlis tugged my arm to get my attention. She led me from the dining room and up a flight of circular stone stairs, lit by turpentine torches. Modern lighting did not extend to this part of the castle, and I felt as though we had stepped back in time. I half expected a knight in a suit of armor might come clanking down the stairs at any moment.

  We ascended countless steps until we finally reached a landing and stopped before a heavy, wooden door. Marlis pulled a key ring from the sash of the muslin apron she wore over her blue gown. She sorted through the keys and found one to fit the door’s lock. The room smelled of damp stone and old linen and was adorned with simple furnishings: a small bed, a table with a lantern, a single stool, and a plain oak stand with a water pitcher and ewer.

  Marlis lit the lantern with one of the torches from the landing. She inhaled and seemed to want to say something. Instead, she sighed and gave me a sad smile. She pointed to the bed and tucked her hand under her head, closing her eyes to mimic sleeping.

  She left my room so soundlessly I didn’t hear her footsteps on the stairway as she descended. A great weariness tugged at my body as I settled on the bed and pulled the linens over my shoulders. So many questions swirled through my head and ricocheted against my skull that I was certain I would never be able to sleep.

  But I was wrong.

  Chapter 33

  After waking me late in the morning, Marlis led me to the same dining room where Gideon and I had shared supper the night before. I ate by myself—the household’s other inhabitants must have already started their day by the time I came down. The staff were taking away empty dishes and wiping down tables. Only Gideon arrived later than I. He stuffed a piece of bacon into a roll and led me into the castle courtyard, proposing to give me a tour of Lord Daeg’s estate.

  “There’s nothing wrong with my sister,” he said. “Even though most people would disagree.”

  “I didn’t think there was anything wrong with her. She’s been very kind.”

  He chewed on his lip as he considered what to say next. “She’s not �
�soft in the head’, as Aodan says. I think she chooses not to talk by choice, not because she can’t.”

  “Have you ever heard her speak?”

  “I remember her singing, mostly, when she was a tiny little thing, but I can’t remember the last time I’ve heard her use words.”

  “Why do you think she’s that way?”

  He guided me out the castle gates, through the forest, and toward Daeg’s fields. Little green shoots popped their heads from the ground and the perfume of freshly turned earth scented the air. “People deal with grief in different ways. Marlis has had a hard life, growing up without a mother and having to take care of our father.” The last bit came out with a twinge of regret.

  “Did you find him last night? Your father I mean?” We stopped and gazed at a row of laborers—several groups of women and small children worked the nearest field with hand tools, pulling weeds, and collecting rocks.

  “I did.”

  When it was obvious he intended to say nothing more, I changed the subject to the one that mattered most to me that moment. “Gideon, why did you bring me here?”

  “I thought you might like to see a bit of the estate.”

  I put my hands on my hips and glared at him. “You know what I mean.”

  He swallowed and took a deep breath. He spoke his answer on a quick exhalation of words. “Daeg asked me to.”

  “But, why? And how would he know—” I stopped. Stupid me. Stupid, stupid, stupid! “Unless he knew from the beginning. Unless he planned the whole thing.”

  Gideon refused to look at me. His gaze lingered on the distant field, and his silence said everything. How could I be so naïve?

  “Tell me the truth, Gideon Faust.” I grabbed his arm and dug my fingers into the muscles above his elbow. He looked down at me, his eyes dark and haunted. “Did Daeg plan this? Is he the reason I had to run for my life?”

  Gideon licked his lips and swallowed again. “Yes.”