Heir Of Doom

by Jina S Bazzar

  I strengthened my resolve and glanced back at Remo, swallowing the lump of fear.

  “Yes. On the condition I stay on earth when you don't need me.”

  “Hmmm.” He said thoughtfully, taking a step forward toward me. I forced myself to stay still as he closed the small distance between us. “Say it,” He demanded.

  I tried to swallow, but there was nothing but dust in my mouth. “I,” my voice cracked, “I will become your familiar, willingly, on the condition you let Zantry, Mwara and Diggy – the son of Tammos – leave… and they will owe you nothing. And that you let me live on earth and only call upon me when you need me”

  Remo's eyes gleamed with an intensity I had never seen before. With a hand flicker toward Mwara, her silent sobs ceased, and she slumped, dead or unconscious.

  I stepped toward her, but his next word stopped me cold.

  “Done.”

  No! I whirled, wanted to scream, would have if his energy hadn't slammed at me, taken my breath away, suffocated me, filling my lungs, my eyes, my ears, my heartbeats. My being. Clutching my head, I fell down to my knees, choking, sobbing. Dark spots appeared in my vision. I clutched my throat, clawing for air, but I had forgotten how to breathe.

  “Do not fight it,” Remo instructed, but I couldn't not fight the very thing that was trying to kill me.

  “Breathe,” He commanded. A sweet rush of air filled my lungs. I gulped large breaths, choking in its abundance.

  For a while I did nothing but enjoy the ability to breathe. My vision cleared again, and I braced my hands on the ground, breathed for a few moments more, my head bowed low.

  The first thing I saw when I raised my head again was Mwara's limp body. I thought Remo had killed her and tricked me, but then I saw the steady rise and fall of her chest. I sagged, defeated, every muscle in my body aching as if I'd been through a meat grinder.

  I looked around, but Remo was gone, along with his mindless army. I could see a few of Frizz's band members lying amidst bodies, looking very much dead. Everyone had fallen, except for the three left in Frizz's pack, crouched beside his stirring body.

  Aside from them, there was no one left alive but Mwara, Diggy, and a livid Zantry. His eyes blazed with fury, and I looked away, unsure what to feel. Guilt? Shame? Remorse? Should I be proud I'd spared Mwara? My eyes met Diggy's – now human and naked, but he glanced away, confirming that he too, knew what I'd done.

  Would they try to kill me now? My heart squeezed inside my chest. Was I the enemy now?

  Frizz sat up, then slowly stood and approached me, his movements sluggish. He crouched beside me, his wings limp and torn in some places. I met his expressionless shell- shaped eyes and felt a soothing wave of comfort emanating from him. Trying to comfort me after what I'd done, what I'd become. My stomach gave a violent churn, and I leaned to the side, away from him and Mwara, and emptied the contents of my stomach until only dry, wrecking heaves remained.

  Zantry's boots appeared in front of my eyes, narrowly avoiding the puddle I had made. He crouched, his blazing eyes mere inches away. He reached for me and I flinched away. His hand balled, knuckles white. He dropped his hand and stood, turning away.

  “I'll go and try to straighten things out, buy you some time,” Diggy said, not looking at me.

  I nodded once, and he disappeared.

  Zantry crouched again, the fury in his eyes banked into crackling ambers, and he didn't strike me. Instead, he placed a lock of my hair behind my ear, then gathered me close. Before I knew it, he flashed us away.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  We arrived in my living room with Zantry still holding me, Mwara still unconscious. Frizz disappeared the moment we touched ground, and I knew he was doing whatever he did when he was in a higher dimension. He'd heal faster, so I didn't ask him to stay, even if I wanted his soothing presence more than ever.

  Zantry stood, his motion agitated, and there was strain around his eyes. He was hurt too, but I couldn't see anything beyond his tattered clothes, ripped where Mwara's talons had dug. There was blood, but nothing fresh, nothing that was still bleeding, at least not that I could tell.

  When his eyes met mine again, the fury was back in full force, burning hot. Maybe if he killed me now he'd spare me the horror that waited for me ahead.

  I wasn't sure at that moment if I'd put up a convincing fight, or even if I would protest.

  He paced back and forth, clearly trying to work off some steam, then whirled to face me, finger pointed like a spear at my face. “You are the most stupid person I have ever met,” He snapped, coming to crouch in front of me. “Do you have any idea what position you have put yourself in? No?” he bit off every word, his anger so tangible I could feel it like hot air on my skin. He stood in agitation, paced as far as the opposite wall before spinning on his heels to glare at me. “Let me tell you this, Roxanne, you have played right into everyone else's game.” His finger speared me with every word he bit off. “This is exactly the position the Sidhe wanted you in. The hunters will lap up your downfall like cream in a sweet pie! They'll want to know everything that Remo teaches you, his every move. The rejected will accuse you of treason and try to execute the thorn on their side. And Remo, Remo … you've fucking played right into his fucking game!” he punched the wall, leaned his head in the hole that appeared in its place.

  Belatedly, it dawned on me that his fury wasn't for what I had become, but at the precarious situation I had put myself in. Or that's what I hoped.

  “You said once someone was trying to set you up. You asked who hated you enough to do this.” He turned his head to look at me, the fury like a scorching touch. “Remo doesn't hate you. But he wants you enough to risk throwing you down the cliff to see if you'd bounce back up. Maybe he hadn't set out to make Mwara his familiar, but maybe he'd been watching you. He saw an opportunity and he cashed on the possibility that you'd catch the blame. Perhaps he even thought that if you couldn't come up on the winning end against the clan, then you weren't worth his time.”

  He straightened and turned his back on me. With a muffled curse he raked his hand through his hair, glanced down at me and exhaled some of the anger away – to be replaced by fatigue and frustration. “I should have taken you away from everyone when I had the chance. I should have taken you away.” He pounded the wall twice more, and though it didn't leave any holes, it still left two impressions behind. “I should have taken you away.”

  Stunned, I blinked up at him. “I put myself in this position, not you,” I said in a raspy voice.

  “Damn right you did,” he said tightly. “Because I was too stupid to strike her.” He pointed at Mwara's prone body. He had known who she was. She got the best of him because he hadn't wanted to hurt her. Oh, God.

  “Should have killed her and taken her body to the clan.” He muttered.

  “I'm not sorry,” I said, tasting the truth in my words. Terrified, yes, but not sorry. Back stiffening, I watched the fury that had begun to dim suddenly blaze hot again in Zantry's eyes. “You should be. You will be.” He chuffed then, the sound dying even as it was born, his hot violet eyes like a punch. “That's what Arianna would have said. So noble, so stupid. What you did back there, the stronger of the Dhiultadh wouldn't have. No one burn their skin to save someone else's these days. Bravery, my dear, is a sentiment long forgotten, even by the heroes.”

  I raised my chin, even if all I wanted was to curl in and sleep the nightmare away. “I'm not sorry,” I repeated with a stronger tone.

  Zantry studied me curiously, then sagged against the divider, his anger suddenly gone, evaporated in thin air. “I can see you aren't. And fuck if that doesn't make me relieved.” He shoved a hand through his hair, then came to crouch beside me. “Let's hope a week with Remo won't change who you are.”

  It was his words that finally broke me. Seeing what Mwara had become was not only sad but horrifying. Hearing someone say that the same could happen to me made the possibility that much stronger. I didn't want to be like M
wara. I didn't want to believe in Remo. I didn't want to change. I got up with a last burst of reserve and with both arms around myself, I murmured to Zantry that I was going to clean up and went to the bathroom, where I let the first tears silently fall.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  The stone circle turned out to be ruins of a medieval stadium on the Rahzar moon, a small planet parallel to the Sidhe world and the Tristan star. It was a land of vicious beasts, giant carnivorous birds, a place where people had stopped trying to civilized long ago. It was to this land that Verenastra first took refuge when she fled the wrath of her mother and her lover, the leader of the Unseelie Court, Madoc.

  It was in the ruins of this land that the Sidhe met with the Dhiultadh, here they solved disputes and dealt justice, here that the Seelie and Unseelie Dhiultadh met to resolve claims and complaints. A neutral planet, a place claimed by no one but the feral beings native to this land.

  It was here as well that my father had met his end.

  I arrived late to the stone circle, though with the instability of time that surrounded the other worlds, I couldn't tell how late. Beneath my feet the grass was brittle, the color of hay. As if it was autumn in this land instead of spring. On my right stood two impressive snow-capped mountains, to my left the land sloped downward. There were no signs of inhabitants, no obvious signs of life except ahead, in the middle of the circle, inside the last crumpling stone ring. From where I stood at the very edge of the larger ring, it was easy to spot Archer, standing tall and rigid in the middle of the gathering, facing off with a dark-haired man. I had yet to be noticed, so I took the opportunity to survey the crowd, recognizing a few people.

  Logan, Elisabeth, Boris, even Xandra was down there.

  Logan stood behind Archer and to his right, while Elizabeth and five others flanked Archer's left. Behind the group stood another cluster of people, about a dozen in all. Across from Archer was a similar formation, with the man – the dark haired leader – facing Archer to the front, Boris and Xandra to the man's right, four others to the left, and another cluster of people behind them.

  Between both groups knelt Vincent and Diggy, their heads bowed in submission.

  Either no one had believed Diggy, or more time had passed than I'd surmised, because clearly this was no friendly gathering. Still, my progress was slow, as I had to maneuver around holes almost hidden by the tall weeds growing from the cracks in the stones.

  The man facing Archer said something that made him stiffen, his legs brace apart. Was he getting ready to fight, or was this just for show? Archer pointed a finger at Diggy, and Xandra took a step forward, fists clenched. Boris pulled her back beside him, kept his hand around her wrist.

  The man facing Archer shook his head, waved a hand at Archer, pointed down at Vincent, at the six gathered to his left. This man was shorter than Archer by a few inches, but lacked none of the predatory and leadership presence.

  A stray wind brought the sound of Archer's voice, though I couldn't make the words out. Logan stepped forward, and across from him, so did Boris. Xandra wiped at her cheeks angrily, but stayed put.

  This was an execution trial – of Vincent and Diggy. Innocent bystanders, primed to pay for the likely event of my failure.

  Hadn't they listened to what Diggy had told them? Did they even give him a chance to explain? Or was my absence enough to condemn my friends to death?

  Or, maybe if Diggy had told them anything, this entire gathering would be tearing down the Low Lands, searching for me and Mwara. And Remo.

  And Diggy would have known that.

  No, Diggy must have not told them anything.

  I hurried my steps, knowing this gathering was nearing the end.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Elizabeth spotted me first, already halfway through the circle. I was amazed no one had sensed me before that. Surely, a group of people so renowned for their fighting skills should have better senses.

  She cried out in outrage, pointing toward me, and everyone turned to look. Even Diggy and Vincent dared to raise their heads.

  Elizabeth broke rank and rushed toward me. Logan grabbed for her, pulling her back by her arm and handing her to a blond man I recognized from pictures. I had a momentary ping of surprise at the way he handled her, before I remembered he ranked higher. He was second only to Archer. And he was also the enforcer of the clan. Which one was he supposed to execute? Vincent? Or Diggy, his own friend?

  Archer and the other clan leader marched toward me, closing the gap. Some other members followed suit, staying to the left or right of their respective leaders. Elizabeth and the man I recognized from the pictures – Ruben – also came forward, remaining on Archer's left. Even Diggy and Vincent rose, their expressions calm masks I'd come to recognize, but neither moved forward.

  My skin prickled with warning, but my steps didn't falter.

  Behind the group, far in the sky, I spotted the first native creature of this land. It brought to mind prehistoric dinosaurs, the serrated beak long and sharp, wings spanning eight to ten feet on each side. It cried – a lengthy shriek that echoed inside the circle. Only one person from Diggy's line glanced up, a tall freckle-faced guy with icy-blue eyes.

  I was close enough now to hear some words, recognize the hostility in their gazes. The combined negative emotions made my queasy stomach churn with anxiety, and so I concentrated at an empty spot between Archer and the other leader, ignoring the sweat that pooled down my lower back. My leg still twinged from my injuries, covered with thick bandages to keep the predators of this land from smelling the blood. I'd refused to let Zantry heal me, knowing he'd almost drained himself dry in the caves.

  I stopped a few feet away from Archer and let Mwara drop – not so gently – off my shoulders. The skirt of her long dress rose up to her mid-thighs, but no one hurried to cover her up. No one even glanced at her twice.

  Elizabeth broke the hold Ruben had on her, or maybe perhaps he just let her go. With a raised fist, Archer stopped whatever insult she was going to throw at me. She stood now beside Archer, her eyes blazing with hatred, her jaws and fists clenched. How could I have loved this woman once?

  Someone muttered something about disrespect and insolence, and after a brief hesitation, I bowed my head to Archer. “Sir,” I said in a flat tone.

  “What's this?” Archer demanded. “Vemourly informed us you were bringing Ruben's daughter, that you found her.”

  Surprised, I looked at Mwara, the young woman she had become, the feminine curves the dress accentuated. She was still unconscious from the shock of the severed bond, her long hair conveniently covering her profile.

  “…Because the notion was so ridiculous, so farfetched, he didn't see me. He saw someone, helpless and dying, and moved on.” Zantry had once said, trying to explain why Logan hadn't recognized him that night in the PSS. Because they were expecting me to bring a child of eleven, no one expected this young woman to be her. In their defense, I myself hadn't recognized Mwara at first, but the resemblance was there, if one cared to look.

  I glanced at Vincent, wondered about the task Archer had given him. What were the chances the Fin he was sent to find was the same one in the Seelie dungeon? I glanced at Diggy, found his empty eyes watching me, and then looked away, jaws clenching. He had told them I had found Mwara, and yet, he was being held accountable anyway.

  My resolve hardened, and I met Archer's angry eyes head on.

  “You told me to bring proof of my innocence,” I said in a clear voice, loud enough to carry over the entire circle.

  Archer inclined his head. “So I did.”

  “This,” I waved a hand down to indicate Mwara's prone body, “is the child I was sent to find.”

  “Liar!” Elizabeth cried out. A few murmurs broke from those in the crowd, growing in pitch until the murmurs became deafening.

  From the other line, no one said a thing. I swept a glance over them, found all eyes on me. A few had clenched fists, others had fire in their eyes. Despit
e the obvious indignation and anger of having to attend this fiasco, no one from Diggy's clan voiced a complaint. I glanced at Logan, at his empty eyes, moved on to Ruben, read the fear in them. He knew. Would he step forward and confirm my claim or would he stay quiet and let them judge me? I found that I didn't much care. I could leave now and sooner or later they would realize the prone figure on the floor was their beloved scion. There was little in the world worse than being Remo's familiar. Facing this group was not one of them.

  “Silence!” archer snapped, and the crowd behind him fell quiet.

  “Explain yourself, daughter of Fosch” He said tightly.

  I glanced down at Mwara, studied her for a second. Then I glanced at Elizabeth, at the hatred blazing in her eyes. When I glanced at Archer, I could tell he was already sure of my demise. I could see death in his eyes. He hadn't wanted me to make it. He didn't want to see the truth. Because I was a human hybrid?

  Because of their prejudice against me, their daughter had paid. Vincent would have paid. And by association, Diggy would have paid.

  Archer bared his teeth at me, not liking my silence, “Speak now, scion.”

  “I already told you. This is the child I was sent to bring for you.”

  Archer's face contorted. I was showing him disrespect in front of his clan. In front of his rival clan.

  “I don't see how this could be. You left to fetch a child of eleven, or proof of your innocence. So far you have done nothing but proven yourself to be disrespectful and spiteful. The only reason you have been thus far tolerated is because of Fosch –”

  “This is Mwara Longlan.” I interrupted through gritted teeth. “Your denial won't change the fact, no matter how much you wished it did.” I hadn't anticipated that I'd need to convince them of Mwara's identity. I had expected shouts, gasps and a lot of crying and regret. I admit I hadn't expected any apologies, or for anyone to confess how much they had wronged me. But I hadn't expected to be questioned either.