Heir of Thunder (Stormbourne Chronicles Book 1)

by Karissa Laurel

  My voice rose to an almost inaudible pitch. “And you knew about it all along?”

  “Yes.”

  I staggered back, my pulse pounding in my ears. Tears burned my throat and eyes, but I was so sick of crying. I bent over and heaved several breaths to chase away my grief. “Then all of this—” I waved my hand between Gideon and me. “—everything you’ve said and done. It was just a ploy to get me here?”

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He opened his mouth to answer, but before he could utter a word, I slapped him, hard, so hard my palm and fingers burned. He didn’t react—he simply stood there, unmoving, as the red stain of my assault darkened on his cheek.

  I clutched my throbbing fingers to my chest and pushed past him, but he grabbed my wrist and towed me back. “Evie, wait,” he said.

  A sudden gust of wind tugged at my cloak and toyed with the long strands of Gideon’s hair. I had never hated anyone before, but I was certain I would never hate anyone again as much as I hated him at that moment. I wrenched myself from his grasp and ran. I didn’t know where I was going, but the wind pushed me along, encouraging me.

  “Evie!” Gideon shouted behind me.

  I ran through the nearest field. The soft black dirt sucked at my feet and hampered my speed, but I pumped my legs through it. The wind rose to a howl, and the air currents felt like the touch of my father. I didn’t look back. I didn’t want to know if Gideon was close to catching me.

  It wasn’t Gideon who stopped my flight, though, but Lord Daeg upon his great black horse. He reined the beast into my path and swiped at me with a massive hand. I dodged, but Daeg snagged the hood of my cloak. I struggled from the fabric, pulling my arms free. Then I lunged forward, tugging my hand from the cuff, still hoping to make my escape, but Daeg slid from his horse and wrapped me in his bearlike arms. I screamed an ineffable sound of protest, cursing Daeg, Gideon, and the fates that had brought me here.

  Daeg’s man, Steig, appeared at his side and together they hauled me off my feet, carrying me back to the castle like a sack of potatoes. From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Gideon. He stared as his feet, rigid and unmoving as a stone wall.

  “You bastard!” I screamed at him, but he stood rigid and unmoving as Daeg and Steig hauled me away. I let my hatred burn him from my heart, like a hot iron cauterizing a wound. He wouldn’t get another thought from me, not another word. He was dead to me. More dead than my father.

  My screams and cries echoed on the castle’s stone walls. No one came to my aid. No one helped me. Lord Daeg locked me in my room and left me to stew in my agony.

  ***

  A throbbing headache greeted me when I awoke later in my little bedroom. The headache wasn’t my only visitor. Aeolus Daeg sat in a large chair that someone must have towed up to my room especially for him. He watched me with a faraway look in his eyes.

  When he realized I was awake, he shook himself and leaned forward in his chair. “I’m sorry that it’s come to this, my girl, but I simply cannot have you running away.”

  “Why not?” I asked, rubbing my temples. I winced when a sharp pain stabbed behind my eyes.

  Lord Daeg noticed and gave me a pitying look. He rose to his feet and went to the door, knocked on it, and waited. The lock turned, the door cracked open, and Marlis crept into the room.

  “Bring some tea for our friend,” he said. “Something to help with a headache.”

  Marlis bobbed a curtsey, and without looking at either of us, retreated into the hallway.

  “That girl has a way with herbs. Probably learned it having to take care of that father of hers. Gideon told you she’s his sister, didn’t he?”

  I glared at Daeg and nodded, careful not to jar the contents of my skull.

  “They’re extremely close, those two. I think it hurt her a great deal when I sent Gideon away.”

  “What do you want with me?” I asked, cutting into his idle chatter.

  “You should know the answer to that already. But your father left you ignorant of your own history. You should hold him accountable for that if you see him again in the shadowlands.”

  “He was still teaching me things. He died before he was finished.”

  “Yes, yes, so sad... losing your father at such a critical time in your life.” Daeg didn’t sound sad about it at all.

  Another thought occurred to me. “If he hadn’t died, would you still have tried to overthrow my kingdom?”

  “Your kingdom,” he said with a chuckle. “What was left of your kingdom by the time my men arrived was dregs and tatters. The Stormbourne kingdom died with your father.”

  “I have some of his powers. It’s not completely gone.”

  Lord Daeg’s expression lightened. “You’re right. It’s not completely gone, but you are no doubt the last. That’s why it was so critical you return to this land, the birthplace of our ancestors, before your birthright is lost forever.”

  “What good does it do you?”

  “It does me little good, personally, but it can benefit my family a great deal.” Before Daeg could explain any further, Marlis returned with a pot of tea and two porcelain cups on a tray. She set the tray on the table and poured for both of us. She handed one to me, and I sipped it gratefully. My mouth felt as though I had been sucking on a stale stocking. The tea’s herby odor reminded me of Gerda and her garden of green things. Marlis offered a cup to Daeg but he waved it away and rose to his feet.

  “When you finish your tea,” he said, pausing by the door, “I want to show you something. Come find me in my study downstairs. Marlis will show you the way.”

  Marlis sat on the little stool by the table, waiting for me to finish. She played with a bit of hair that had come loose from her kerchief.

  “Do you know why I’m here?” I asked.

  She looked up, surprised to find someone talking to her, and nodded.

  “But you won’t tell me what it is?”

  She shifted in her seat, turning her profile to me, and shook her head.

  I exhaled and downed the last gulp of tea. It improved my headache right away. “I’m done. I guess you better take me to him.”

  Daeg sat hunched over a massive oak desk when Marlis deposited me in his study. A strange assortment of baubles cluttered the tabletop around him: a piece of amber with a dragonfly entombed inside, a white geode the size of my fist filled with amethyst crystals, a collapsible brass spyglass, a gold compass, and a stained glass oil lamp. He scribbled in a massive ledger, and he held one finger up, indicating he wanted me to wait for him to finish before saying anything.

  I took the moment to study the room. Daeg’s study was small and filled with an eclectic compilation of furniture, tapestries, books, and a strange collection of wall clocks—some crafted like little houses and others in various forms of animals. From almost all of the clocks dangled a pair of cast iron weights molded in the shape of pinecones. I wanted to inspect them but suspected Daeg had something more important for my consideration.

  Finally, he laid his pen aside and turned his attention to me. “Can you read Dreutchish as well as you speak it? I hope your father didn’t neglect that aspect of your education as well.”

  “I can read it well enough,” I said.

  Daeg made a tsk sound and rolled his eyes. “Well enough...” He rifled through his desk until he unearthed a scroll sheathed in a thin, black velvet bag. He passed it to me and tented his fingers together under his chin.

  “Well, go on.” He motioned to the scroll.

  I unrolled the old parchment and tried not to strain the brittle paper. I read slowly and waited for the words to make sense, as if I had to first unlock some infrequently used part of my brain, but then the writing cleared, and I began to understand.

  Chapter 34

  The Legend of Aeolus and Trevelyan

  When the ancient deities were in the prime of their rule, the Lord of Thunder, Aeolus Stormbourne, waited expectantly for his wife, Dariah, to give birth to twins�
��the first set ever born in the Stormbourne lineage. Aeolus’s wife was extremely uncomfortable during her pregnancy, for her babies seemed to constantly spar in her womb. On the eve of their birth, a Magician in the Stormbourne’s court dreamed that the babies who fought in Dariah’s belly would continue to fight all their lives until they split and became two separate nations.

  In the Magician’s dream, the first-born son was named Aeolus after his father, a Stormbourne tradition, and the younger was named Trevelyan after Dariah’s father. Aeolus, although the stronger of the two, would eventually bow to his younger brother, and the nations spawned from each son would fare similarly. The Magician shared his dream with Dariah, and she urged him not to reveal his visions to her husband for fear of inciting his wrath.

  On the day of their birth, Aeolus emerged big, blond, and strong, crying to raise the storms to their fury. Clutching his brother’s heel, Trevelyan came immediately afterward. He was dark, slim, and quiet. As the boys grew, their differences increased. Aeolus preferred hunting, fishing, and building things with his hands, traits that endeared him to his father. Trevelyan preferred the arts. He studied music, read poetry, and enjoyed cooking, piquing the favor of his mother. The brothers held only one trait in common: They both possessed a love for battle as soldiers born to the sword, and they often fought each other, seeking always to draw first blood.

  When the birthday marking their adulthood arrived, the twins father announced his desire to bestow the birthright of the Lord of Thunder upon his firstborn son, Aeolus, and he ordered his son to go out and kill a deer for the blessing ceremony. “When Aeolus returns with the meat,” he announced to his family, “he and I shall feast together, and I shall bestow him with his rightful blessing.”

  Dariah, remembering the Magician’s dream, devised a scheme to transfer the birthright to her favorite son, Trevelyan. “My son,” she said, “go slaughter a goat from our herd and bring it to me. We will flavor it so that your father will believe it is your brother’s kill.”

  “But he will not eat it with me,” Trevelyan said. “He will wait for Aeolus’s return.”

  “Your father’s own Magician has already dreamed of this day and he will assist us. Now do as I say.”

  Trevelyan butchered the goat. Together he and his mother prepared it, covering its flavor with rich sauces and spices. Employing the Magician’s skill with trickery, Trevelyan assumed his brother’s appearance and joined his father in the dining room.

  “Did you have good luck, Aeolus?” his father asked. “You have returned so soon.”

  “I was blessed to find a stag just as I set out on my hunt, Father.”

  “Come then and share it with me.” The Lord of Thunder and Trevelyan, disguised as Aeolus, sat down together and feasted on the meat. Lord Stormbourne blessed Trevelyan with the moisture of the heavens, the wind of the air, and the lightning of the sky. He concluded his blessing just as the true Aeolus returned from hunting.

  Aeolus fell to his knees and cried out. “Father, what have you done?”

  Lord Stormbourne realized the Magician’s deception, and Trevelyan’s disguise fell away. In a rage, the Lord of Thunder cursed his youngest son, but he could not take back what he had already given. “You will leave my house, Trevelyan Stormbourne. You shall not return to this land, neither you nor your progeny. You will rule as the Lord of Thunder, but you will do it far removed from this place. If your offspring ever return to this land, on that day, the heir of Aeolus will take back that which is rightfully his.”

  Dariah cried for her banished son, but she did not grieve him long, for her husband killed her that same day as punishment for her part in his deception. Lord Stormbourne chased the Magician from his house. Trevelyan fled the land that became Dreutch and sailed the oceans until he washed upon the shores of the lonely gray island where he established his throne and thus began the rule of the Stormbournes of Inselgrau.

  Chapter 35

  I rubbed my eyes and looked up from the scroll. Reading the legend and translating it had taken a while, but I was certain I read it correctly. “So,” I said. “You want to take back what you think is rightfully yours.”

  Daeg tilted his head forward in the affirmative, but said nothing.

  “How do you know this is true?” I waved the scroll. “It sounds like a fairytale to me.”

  “That scroll was written by the same man from whom the birthright was taken. He put down his history and passed it to his sons so we would never forget.”

  “What does this mean for me?”

  “Your eighteenth birthday is several days away, my girl. If you give your birthright away freely, then I won’t have to take it.”

  “It cannot be received after your eighteenth birthday. And forgive me, my Lord, but for you that occasion passed many years ago.”

  Lord Daeg tilted back his head, letting out a rib-cracking guffaw. “You are right my dear,” he said still chuckling. “It has been many years since that grand age for me, but my son is only sixteen. He will take the birthright from you, now, and on his eighteenth birthday, he’ll come into his full power—the power that should have always been his right.”

  “I don’t think it works that way,” I said, though I didn’t know much about how the Lord of Thunder’s powers were received or bestowed other than it passed from father to his offspring. I was the first female heir, ever, and I wondered if it was a sign of change. “If that story in the scroll is right,” and I was not at all convinced that it was, “then don’t I need my father’s blessing before I receive my birthright? And in that case, didn’t it die with him?”

  “You weren’t a twin,” Daeg said. “The Lord of Thunder had to bestow the birthright because it couldn’t be split between his two heirs. Because you were the only born, the birthright went to you by default when Trevelyan died. But, it is merely a transient gift until your eighteenth birthday.” The greedy glow in Daeg’s eyes sent shivers over my skin. He looked as though he wanted to eat me.

  “It’s convenient that my father passed when he did,” I said, noticing the uneasy sensation that had traveled with me since entering Daeg’s estate. “Did you wait for his death to plan your revolution, or did it start before that?”

  He pondered my question, possibly deciding how much he wanted to tell me. He exhaled, letting a slow, malicious grin split his face. “Oh, my dear, since the day you were born I’ve planned for the moment when I could have you in my grasp.”

  “My father died of a punctured lung and a fractured skull from falling off his horse. His men said a wild animal made his horse skittish, and she threw him.”

  Daeg nodded, encouraging me to continue.

  “I rode with him many times. He took me hunting with him. Nothing scared that horse, not storms, not gun shots, not wild game darting in front of her. And absolutely nothing, threw Father from his saddle.”

  Daeg arched a single eyebrow. “Your point is?”

  “I never really believed it was an accident.”

  “You’re a clever girl, but then you must be to have survived as long as you have.”

  His answer was as good as a confession. The grief of my father’s death washed over me anew, fresh and raw as the day his Crown of Men brought his broken body to the house. Gerda had tried to keep me from seeing him, but I tore away from her and threw myself on his body, begging him to wake up and put his arms around me. It was Terrill that had found him. Now, I wondered if Terrill had killed him.

  I didn’t care for my birthright so much for the power it gave me, but giving it to Daeg let him justify my father’s murder. This man had taken everything from me, and I would be dead before I allowed him to take anything more. “What would I have to do?”

  Daeg’s smile widened. “So you’re going to cooperate? Good. It’s a simple task for a Magician to make the transfer, so long as you are willing.”

  “And if I’m not willing?”

  “Then, it will be my pleasure to take it from you by force.”

&nb
sp; ***

  Compared to the blue room at Rouelle Thibodeaux’s house, the little stone room Daeg kept me in truly felt like a prison. If I had counted the days correctly, I was two nights away from the eve of my eighteenth birthday, the night my captor intended to make his son the next Heir of Thunder. I had asked Daeg if he liked to go in for dramatics. Why else would he wait for the last minute to attempt the transfer of the birthright?

  He had explained the modification of a birthright required a great deal of Magical energy. The transfer would be much easier on the eve of my birthday, something about the barriers of my own Magic being thinner that night. Daeg must have had great confidence in his plan to allow no room for errors. Perhaps I could find a way to use his overconfidence to my advantage.

  I stood at the tiny window slit in my room and stared down to the courtyard below. Marlis wandered through it in the afternoons, sometimes, but I hadn’t seen Gideon since I ran from him in the field. Just as well, I couldn’t have bared looking at him.

  It had rained a steady, gloomy drizzle ever since Daeg locked me in this place, and I wondered if the weather was responding to my dark mood. I experimented with the thin watery clouds, shaping them into vague silhouettes of horses and airships.

  Marlis hadn’t returned to my room since she brought me the headache tea, but sometimes I caught her staring up at my window from the courtyard, wearing a frown. The day before, I had shaped a long, wispy cloud into a row of paper dolls, hand in hand, floating across the sky. I pointed to them and Marlis looked up.

  I let the figures wander for a moment before bringing up a big gust that smeared them like grease across a cold plate. Marlis watched the smear until it faded. Then she continued on her way without looking back. Maybe she preferred flowers over dolls. If I saw her again, I would make a bouquet for her out of a great fluff of cumulonimbus.

  ***

  A boom of thunder splintered the air, followed by a streak of lightning so bright it sent the stones in my room into stark contrast. Someone scratched at my door. The thunder shattered the sky again as I jumped to my feet and dashed to the window. I hadn’t consciously made the storm, but the days had grown darker and the clouds more ominous as the conclusion to Daeg’s plan drew near. A click in the lock followed the scratching, and the door scraped over the floor as my visitor pushed it open.