Heir of Lies (Black Dawn Series Book 1)

by Mallory McCartney

  Emory. His heart clenched at the mention of her, worry making him want to break free and destroy these Oilean.

  They continued their story as he licked his cracked lips. “And so, since the sisters knew that this was going to come to an end soon—the royal line, the Faes, and you—they figured they would share some secrets.”

  Giggles resonated all around him, and he flexed, trying to sit up. Trying to do anything.

  “You see, Brokk Foster, we have learned such interesting facts about you. Peyton, having known your mother, can compare similarities between you two. Your shapeshifter qualities upon being induced by our serums are basic. You turn into your second form, the wolf, but the rest... Well, that is where things get more interesting, very interesting indeed.”

  What had they found out?

  Curiosity built; despite everything they had done to him. Test after test. No one in his life had been able to explain why he had more powers. Why he was so different.

  They approached him slowly, in the half light, coming closer and closer to the table. The Oilean’s leader held another knife, and Brokk started whispering, “No, no, no, please no.”

  He had to hold on. He had to escape. If not for Black Dawn, for himself.

  Determination flooded into him, lighting himself with motivation he didn’t know he had. He flicked his eyes open, darting around the room. Be resourceful, Brokk. Think.

  They had cleared the room; the only things left were cracked lamps hanging on the wall.

  “Ahh. Look, sisters, we have put a spark in him.”

  His head snapped toward them, and he sneered at their elation.

  “You know what we must do now...not let his hope catch.” She pulled a short silver dagger from a sheath attached to her hip.

  No. No. I will not survive this.

  “Now, I will warn you, this will not be pleasant.”

  Laughter echoed around him.

  His body felt as if he was being dragged down slowly through water. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move. The dagger bit as it slid in between his ribs, and the world spun in pain.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Emory

  She wove further and further down into the bellows of this land. Adair’s kingdom was like an ant hill, twisting and interconnected. Sweat poured off her body, and she walked as fast as she dared, trying not to draw attention to herself.

  By now, the hallways had emptied besides the lingering soldiers talking in excited, hushed voices. She caught clips of the conversations, and her heart dropped like a stone. Keeping her eyes ahead, she took in everything. She had passed what looked like a market, vendors of food, clothes, wine and instruments were splayed in an attractive display. Past that, a blacksmith’s shop, a beautiful woman stepping out from the front door, covered in soot and sweat.

  Pushing herself faster, Emory made note of the activity within Adair’s kingdom. Some children ran behind, waving goodbye as their fathers and mothers disappeared. She took a sharp turn left and was met with another series of stairs. She took them two at a time.

  Azarius will make it. He won’t get caught, she repeated this like a mantra.

  “Soldier! You are to report to the stadium at once. The King’s orders.” The voice was as sharp as knives, and she froze.

  Come closer you. I dare you.

  “Soldier!”

  She heard his footsteps when he clambered down the stairs toward her.

  It was indeed my lucky day.

  Her movements were fast and sure. She twisted around, and the guard froze, taking her in. She took the opportunity to dive behind him, holding her knife to his throat. “Make a noise, and you’re dead.”

  He was frozen against her hold, and up close, he couldn’t be older than seventeen.

  They are so young.

  He gulped, and Emory, having direct contact with him, felt the surge of energy through her. What an ability he had!

  She whispered, “Take me to the prisoners now, or die. What do you choose, soldier?”

  His voice shook as he said, “Please don’t kill me. I will take you to them.”

  She moved the blade to his lower back. “One wrong move, and you’re sealing your death. Understood?”

  He gave a curt nod, and they moved forward. A layer of sweat coated his skin, and they traveled down the hallway. The black stone glistened in the light casted by the hanging lanterns. Minutes passed in silence until, finally, they rounded the corner and were met by a grey door, strange markings circling it. Without hesitation, he pressed his palm to the middle of the door, and it was as if he breathed life into it when an eerie glow started to pulse from it.

  “You have to do the same,” he murmured.

  “What does it do?”

  “To enter the dungeons, everyone has to unlock the door by disabling our abilities. It is a place of no magic. It’s how no one escapes.”

  Adair had thought of everything.

  Gritting her teeth, she mimicked him, and the door swung toward them. It felt like half her limbs had disappeared. They stepped into a semi-dark room, and Emory had walked straight into something of nightmares.

  Hundreds of cells lined the stone walls, half starved faces peering back at her. Anger, hot and consuming, rose in her, and she flipped the blade. With all her strength, she drove the pommel into the back of the guard’s head. He crumpled. Stepping over his body, she frantically ran to the closest set of bars, and grabbing them, she asked the girl in front of her, “Memphis. Do you know if a man named Memphis is here?”

  “What’s it to you?” Stepping forward, the girl had matted hair piled on top of her head and deep brown eyes. Her voice was a scratchy drawl, and she breathed heavily through the bars, angry scars roping her cheekbones.

  “Emory?” Her name was called out, and not waiting, she sprinted toward it.

  She saw him before anything else. Red hair, green eyes filled with hope. So different than his brother’s.

  “How did you get in here?” Alby asked.

  She crouched down and, fidgeting, answered, “It’s a long story. What’s about to happen here? Why are the soldiers being gathered into the stadium?”

  Alby nervously licked his cracked lips. “Adair is planning to make an example of us.”

  She felt nauseated. “How much time?”

  “The guards have already taken Memphis out.”

  Shit.

  “Alby, how do they lock the cells?”

  “It’s all hand code access, like we had at the Academy.”

  Desperation gripped her, and she ran back, returning to the unconscious guard. Bending down, knife in hand, she steadied herself. She swung down, grinding through flesh and bone, blood spurting. Holding her breath, she told herself, Just one more cut... Her task completed, she took the hand, running back to Alby, a blood trail splattering behind her. Revolusion twisted in her gut at what she had done.

  She pushed the thoughts down, and gasping, she asked Alby, “Where?!”

  Speechless, Alby pointed to where the first bar touched the wall. Emory pressed flesh to stone, and the cell door groaned as the barrier disappeared into the wall. Alby stepped out toward her, his legs shaking.

  “We need to set them all free. Alby, there isn’t time to explain, but I came here with Azarius. He is waiting for you all in the stadium. You have to save them.” She motioned around her, and it was as if she had sent an electric shock through him because he stared at her wide-eyed and open mouthed.

  “This is our chance, Alby. Please move.”

  Boom. Boom. BOOM.

  Drums, deep like a heartbeat, started above them. Alby grabbed the hand from her and started going from cell to cell until around them an orchestra of stone against metal sounded. Chaos broke out and prisoners fled, but one voice behind her rang out as the cell was unlocked.

  “So. You have finally come to end this.” Nyx sneered at Emory; her clothes covered in dried blood. Bruises flowered all her skin, her shirt was ripped, and her pants were rolle
d up, revealing fresh wounds.

  Emory shot back, “Now is not the time,”

  Nyx stepped forward with a limp, her eyes flaring with malice. “You. It was supposed to be enough—the information of you. Now Memphis...” Nyx’s voiced cracked.

  Using her full body weight, Emory shoved Nyx against the nearest wall, breathlessly whispering, “You sealed their fates. What did you think Adair would do? You need to show me where they took Memphis, then get out with Alby and the others. Have a chance.”

  Lowering her arm, she stared at Nyx, waiting. She barely caught what she said. “Go to the end of the cave, and there should be a staircase—down there.”

  Emory turned and ran, passing Alby as he corralled disoriented prisoners saying, “Okay. As soon as we are out, grab hands. I can conceal you as soon as we pass the barrier that will enable our abilities again...”

  Cells blurred into a mass of grey and black, and Emory focused on her breathing. She could do this. She had to.

  It was only a matter of minutes before she reached the makeshift staircase Nyx described. Emory grabbed a small lantern off the wall and took the steps two at time. She landed on dirt; it puffed out around her from the impact. She had entered another tunnel, wooden beams supporting the sides. She was almost hyperventilating.

  What if she was too late?

  Lifting the lantern, its soft light touched the walls around her. About halfway down the tunnel, natural light pooled in a circle on the floor, particles of dust floating down from the movement above. Sprinting until she reached the light, she skidded to a stop.

  Looking up, she saw floorboards, small gaps between each one, and past them, a guard shifting his weight impatiently. Beside him, someone with hands bound was on his knees—Memphis.

  His face was bruised; deep yellows and greens speckled his skin. Fresh blood poured from his nose onto the wood, some oozing down into the tunnel. His breath was labored, and his eyes were closed. Emory could hear the crowd’s excited murmur, and she concentrated. To her left, another staircase twisted up to meet a small cellar door, its latch hanging undone before her.

  Her way out.

  Palms clammy, she took a step forward, and that’s when a silky voice rang out, making Emory freeze and silencing the crowd immediately - “Today, I have gathered you from your duties to bring you before this rebel traitor.”

  Jeers sounded, and Memphis was shoved to the ground, his face colliding with the floorboards.

  Emory clutched her knife and waited.

  “Many years have passed, and we as a kingdom have flourished. We have weeded out anyone whose beliefs remained in the past—what the Academy stood for. Power demands to be earned, not handed out to anyone. What are the words we live by?”

  “All of might,” was chanted back at him.

  “Exactly. Until recently, I thought I had buried the Academy with the Faes. Though somehow, the rebel scum survived. This man, their leader, must pay. What is left of the rebels must learn that I, their king, is the only one who is to rule.”

  The drums started once more, low and soft, and Memphis was roughly grabbed by his bound hands, and directed by the guard, they left, heading into the pit.

  And out of Emory’s line of sight.

  Hurry, Alby.

  She jumped up on the staircase and shoved her face against the gap, craning her neck to see. She stayed there awkwardly perched and waiting for the right moment.

  Hold. Gingerly positioning her shoulder against the cellar door, tensing her muscles, she waited to shove through it.

  That’s when she felt hot breath against the nape of her neck, making her hairs stand on end. She turned around and bit down hard on her lip to stop her from screaming. The beast was easily the size of a horse, thick coarse black fur covering its body. Its claws were as long as swords, digging into the dirt. Behind him, three soldiers stood with spears prodding him along. Those eyes—a deep opaque silver flickered as his long snout sniffed her. Ears like wolves flattened against his head, and a growl like thunder started in his chest.

  The soldiers froze as they spotted her.

  Adair’s voice continued, “As a public execution, this rebel will be faced against a beast found in the mines...”

  Cheers started from the onlookers; Emory felt sick.

  “And let it be known that the resistance will never survive against me!”

  She took her cue: slamming her weight against the door, it exploded open, and she threw herself out, a roar following at her heels. Move, Emory.

  Blinking hard, she spotted Memphis in the middle of the sandy pit, hundreds of soldiers surrounding it. She ran, adjusting to the light change. Memphis’s usually blond hair was ridden with dirt and blood. She couldn’t meet his gaze.

  But there was only one person she was looking for.

  Across the arena, a man with pitch black hair sat on a throne made of bones. His eyes never wavered from her unexpected appearance, as Emory sprinted full tilt toward Adair. Throwing the hat off, her black hair loosened behind her, as she pumped her arms harder.

  “ADAIR!” His name ripped through her throat, the thundering of the beast following behind her.

  Standing, a flurry of emotion quickly crossed Adair’s face.

  There is no going back now.

  “Adair, I’ve come to join you!” At those words, her heart erupted into flames, turning quickly to ash, and chaos broke across the stadium.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Memphis

  His hands and arms had turned numb. He heard the roar and, glancing up, was sure to see his death. Instead, he saw Emory. She was an angel inside this eternal darkness, black hair flying behind her as she ran, screaming his name.

  This was torture, and it ripped fresh through him, unhinging everything. He had never thought it would be Emory that would break his resilience. Adair had tried his best, truly. But he was a stone; he had led Black Dawn to this fate, and the guilt layered upon him was fresh and constant.

  But Emory? She was supposed to survive. To live.

  He couldn’t do anything more than stare as she hurtled toward him screaming, “Adair, I have come to join you!”

  What?

  Screams erupted around him, and he felt an unnatural wind pick up. Looking up, the bronze sand was funneling, forming a tornado, and growing in force with every passing second. His mind was chaos. He was surrounded by a ring of onlookers, but in the sea of black, Memphis spotted a man with fiery orange hair. Alby?

  He was staring at Emory with visible hatred, and bringing his arms together, he clapped once, his lips moving as he did so. It was as if the world had split open. Five tornados crashed into the stadium, destroying it within seconds. Debris and bodies soared through the air as Memphis was frozen in fear. The beast that would have been his end was sucked up in the cyclone, roaring helplessly.

  Emory had almost reached Adair.

  All this time, she was just waiting for this moment.

  “Memphis!”

  His name brought him slamming back into reality as Alby materialized beside him; bruised and bloodied. “You have to come with us. My brother is waiting!”

  He could feel himself shake his head, craning back to catch a glance at Emory.

  “Now, Memphis! Forget about her!” Nyx appeared, eyes hard.

  She unbound his restraints and shoved him upward, and as she did, Alby grabbed his hand, a refreshing coolness washing over him. This sensation had only been described to him before, but he had never experienced it.

  Alby had turned them invisible.

  Hushed voices encircled him, and he felt their group lurch forward. He was aware Nyx was behind him, prodding him along if he faltered. The screaming never stopped. They maneuvered out of the pit, entering a long winding staircase up to their freedom. They ran as fast as they could, which was a steady hobble.

  Nyx breathed down his neck. “We have others with us. A rebel group led by someone named Morgan on the eastern border.”

  “Shut up, N
yx,” Memphis said. He didn’t have the patience to deal with her, her betrayal cutting into him just as fresh.

  Alby shushed them as they climbed. “They can still hear us even if they can’t see us.”

  Soldiers rushed past them frantically, the group catching snippets as they passed.

  “No sign of them yet.”

  “Adair is secure.”

  “Fifty casualties.”

  They pushed on, and soon, the stairs flattened out to join the mouth of hallway caves, and the sound of rushing water greeted them. Alby constantly searched every face, cursing under his breath. My brother is waiting for us.

  Memphis didn’t even know Alby had a brother. What else didn’t he know about the people that had sacrificed everything for him? How far he had led them astray for the hope that she would be the key to their own freedom?

  He felt as if he was being pressed into a tube, each passing second getting harder to go on, to breathe.

  “Come on, Memphis. Hold on.” Her voice brushed up against his consciousness, and he felt her free palm gently press against his lower back.

  The world spun, a cold sweat slithering down his spine. Pieces of his heart had been laid out, embedded into the wrong people.

  “Don’t give her the satisfaction.”

  Brushing Nyx off, he concentrated on Alby, leading them through this maze, sweat breaking out above his brow. “Alby, do you know the way out of here?”

  “We have to find Azarius. He came in here with Emory. He will wait for us and get us out.”

  Scanning the crowds, people dressed in black collaged together into one mass. A figure stood in the corner, jacket pulled tight around him, fiery hair a beacon in the grey of the grotto.

  “There, Alby,” Nyx whispered behind him.

  Alby’s gaze snapped to attention, taking in his brother, shock flickering across his features before he composed himself. He quickly said, “I have to be fast. Everyone stays together. Adair’s men will see us. “

  Alby didn’t give anyone a chance to think about what this would mean. Letting go, he sprinted across the hallway, shoving soldiers out of the way, yelling, “Azarius!”