Harrowed Heir

by Sarah E. Burr

  “And when he realized the reference letter was fake, he knew the identity of the thief.”

  Jax’s stomach flipped as they reached the outer door to Ezarath’s office. “How the culprit found all this out, I have yet to determine. I don’t think Ezarath would be foolish enough to confront Master Gautherd’s attacker on his own.”

  “Even the most intelligent people can put themselves in dangerous situations.” George gave her a pointed look.

  She rolled her eyes and pushed into the office, relieved to find Ezarath’s body had already been removed. As much as she was used to death, she didn’t enjoy being so close to it.

  “What are we looking for?” George closed the door behind them.

  “We already looked to see if Ezarath had any information tucked away in his desk and cabinets regarding his new professors.” A devilish smile curled on her lips. “But if Ezarath thought something might be valuable, he had another special place for it.”

  George folded his arms. “And how do you know this?”

  Jax’s expression was the picture of innocence. “From experience.”

  She moved to the far side of the room, where a massive bookcase stood at attention. An image of her, Carriena, and Aranelda floated through her mind, a memory of the first time they had attempted to steal into the headmaster’s office. There had been rumors among the upperclassmen that Ezarath had an extraordinarily rare vintage of honeyed mead hidden away in his office, reserved only for special occasions. Carriena and Arnie, both eager to try some of the legendary brew, had convinced Jax to help them steal a sip before the yuletide ball the school hosted before recessing for the winter holidays.

  They had spent hours searching Ezarath’s office in the dead of night and had come this close to giving up when Jax had spotted something odd in the bookshelf.

  “Let me see if I remember where it is,” she said now, more to herself than to George. Her amethyst gaze trailed along each shelf, starting from the bottom until a tattered red binding caught her eye. “A-ha! Here it is.”

  Pulling out the hairpin she had used to unlock Ezarath’s office earlier, Jax knelt so that she was eye level with the third row of books.

  George knelt beside her, his presence warm and reassuring. “Is that a lock?”

  Jax grinned and slipped her hairpin through the small brass plate embedded into the red book’s spine. After a few moments of foraging, a pleasant click announced her success.

  With an expert hand, she reached for the latch that had been released on the side of the bookshelf and pulled. The outer shelves gave way and swung open like a door.

  “Amazing.” George straightened, his expression awed.

  “I should get one for my study, right? I’d quite forgotten about Ezarath’s ingenious little contraption until I watched Master Gautherd pack up Duchess Isabella’s letter into that nifty little tubular container.” She marveled at the sight before them. Rows and rows of scrolls, boxes, and books lined the inner shelves of the multi-dimensional bookshelf. “This is where the headmaster would have stashed anything of importance, including the proof of a traitor within the walls of the Academy.”

  “What are we looking for in here?”

  Jax’s gaze darted around the space, scanning the various labels written by Ezarath’s own hand. “We can begin here.” She pointed to a box that read, “Personnel files.”

  George pulled the box down from its high shelf and popped the wooden top open.

  Jax flipped through the files, her brow furrowed in concentration as she searched for the names of the new professors. Her hopes diminished with each file she examined. “Their files are missing! Even Carriena’s, Daghir’s, Casimeer’s…all of them are gone.” She whirled around to scan the office once more. “We didn’t find any files lying around. They, too, must have been burned in the fire.”

  George sighed. “Whoever killed Ezarath did a thorough job covering their tracks. By burning even the established professors’ files, they tried to widen the circle of suspicion.”

  Jax pounded her fist on the table, rattling the box’s contents. She glared at the smoldering fireplace. “No doubt turned to ash.”

  George nudged her shoulder. “We’ve solved crimes with less evidence than we have now, Jax. Don’t give up just yet.”

  She scoffed. “What evidence do we have?” Her irritated gaze flickered to his breast pocket. “A piece of paper with a forged name that we have no means of tracing?”

  “You’re not one to admit defeat so easily.” George raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps a cup of tea to help clear your mind? You must be running on fumes.”

  Jax shot him a playful scowl before checking the clock over the mantle. “You might be right. I guess I never went to sleep,” she teased.

  Displeasure enveloped his features. “Don’t think I’ve forgiven you for going along with Carriena’s stunt. There will be consequences.”

  She closed the personnel box and waited for George to stash it away before shutting the hidden compartment. “Come. Let’s go down to the kitchen to grab some refreshments, then we’ll head to the study. I’m sure everyone is anxious to find out what’s going on.”

  They made their way down into the recesses of the fortress, toward Chef Peregane’s domain. They wordlessly acknowledged a Praesidio knight standing watch at the kitchen entryway. With a curt nod, he waved them inside the sweltering room.

  Given that it was nearly one in the morning, Jax was surprised to find a kettle bubbling away over a roaring fire.

  “Chef! What are you doing up this late?”

  The portly man whirled around from his spot at the stove. “Duquessa! What are you doing down here at this hour?”

  She chuckled, as he really had more of a right to ask the question than she did. “I’m in search of some tea.” Her smile faded when she noted his tired, red eyes. “Are you all right, Chef?”

  Sluggishly, he moved toward the kettle and fetched two teacups from a nearby cabinet. “I must admit, I am feeling overwhelmed, Duquessa. My staff is not scheduled to return for another few days, and it has certainly been a struggle keeping the kitchen functioning without them.”

  Jax nodded her understanding, amazed by what the esteemed artisan had accomplished all on his own during their visit. “Dinner was delicious.”

  “I am heartened to hear that.” He dabbed his forehead before bringing the teacups over to her and George. “You see, I am working on tomorrow’s—or I suppose today’s—luncheon now, to get ahead of myself.”

  “Have you had any news from upstairs, by any chance?” Jax danced around the topic of Ezarath’s death. Perhaps the Praesidio standing watch over the chef had already shared with him word of the headmaster’s fate.

  “News?” Peregane looked alarmed. “I hope someone else has not arrived at the Academy?”

  Jax smiled and shook her head. “No, nothing quite like that.” If Chef Peregane was worried about the number of mouths to feed, well…the number had just gone down by one. “I’m sorry to have troubled you. We’ll take our tea and let you continue with your good work.”

  The chef gave her an absentminded wave as she and George turned to leave the kitchen. Jax was almost out of the room when she noted something that looked out of place. Despite being left to manage the kitchen all on his own, Chef Peregane had managed to keep his workspace immaculate, save for a few dirty stone tiles near a trio of flour casks.

  Chef Peregane must have seen the bewilderment on her face, for he followed the trail of her gaze. “Oh Virtues, I must apologize, Duquessa. I thought I cleaned the whole mess up.”

  Jax waved away his apology. “What happened?” Given that the rest of the kitchen was relatively spotless, she was simply curious.

  Peregane turned his focus back to his stew. “Oh, that herbology professor came down here before yesterday’s staff meeting to fetch himself a cup of tea. Much like you did now. He was covered in dirt from his work in the conservatory and made a mess everywhere.”

 
A startled jolt ran through Jax, her tea spilling over the brim as she tried to hold her hand steady. She suddenly remembered where she had seen dirt on the floor…in the processing room beside Master Gautherd’s worktable.

  Placing her teacup on a nearby counter, she reached for George’s arm, panic welling within her. “We have to get back to the others.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Moments later, Jax barged into the grand study, breathless from her sprint up one of the hidden stairwells she’d yet to explore during her visit. Its entrance had been just off a corridor near the kitchen entryway. She had selected the route in the hopes it would confirm her developing theory. She and George had found traces of dirt scattered across several steps on the winding staircase…a staircase that not only snaked toward the main floor of the building but down into the archives, as well.

  “At last you make an appearance, Duchess.” Deputy Daghir sat up from the lounger upon which he had been stretched out. “Why the Duchess of Saphire has had free reign of the Academy whilst I have been stuck in here, I have no idea.” He sent a critical glare toward Lord Ashcroft, who sat beside a fidgeting Gautherd.

  Jax ignored the disgruntled deputy headmaster and surveyed the room. Carriena and Ziri greeted her with curious smiles, while the rest seemed to ignore her. Casimeer and Yokudran were playing cards, while Nightingale flipped listlessly through a book.

  “Where is Master Lotus?” Her question sounded strangled.

  Ashcroft rose from his seat. “He required the use of the washroom. I sent him off a few minutes ago with an escort.”

  Jax tossed a frantic look at George. “We need to find him.”

  Ashcroft crossed the room, annoyance written all over his face. “There is no need for alarm, Duchess. My guards are perfectly capable of protecting their charges.”

  Jax shot him a glare. “You misunderstand me, Lord Praesidio. Your knight may need protection from his charge.” Master Lotus’s long sleeves in the balmy, warm climate made complete sense to her now. They weren’t protecting him from the sun or hiding an allergic reaction. They were meant to keep away prying eyes that might catch a glimpse of the telltale marking on his forearm. A brand from the Shadow Brethren.

  Without another word to Lord Ashcroft, Jax waved for Ziri to join them.

  The svelte warrior glided to her side, followed by Carriena.

  “What do you ask of me, Duquessa?”

  Jax pulled them all out into the hallway, away from the other professors. “We need to track down Master Lotus immediately. Another man’s life may be in danger.” As legendary as the skill of the Praesidio were, the Shadow Brethren were equally lethal and capable swordsmen.

  Lord Ashcroft seemed resigned to following her orders. “I take it you don’t believe Lotus is in the washroom.”

  George’s hand rested on the hilt of his sword. “With the castle at high alert, it would be impossible for him to rappel down the outer walls without being noticed and shot down. Where do you think he could have gone?”

  Jax surveyed the dark corridor. Why would Lotus wait until now to make his move? What had caused him to act?

  “Gautherd!” she hissed in realization. “We brought Master Gautherd upstairs only a short while ago. Lotus likely thinks the archives are unguarded, so he can have another go at finding the location of the gold.”

  “Gold?” Ziri, Carriena, and Ashcroft all parroted.

  “A story for a later time,” Jax answered lamely. “Right now, we need to get down to the archives.”

  Lord Ashcroft led the way, summoning four other sentries with him. Jax silently urged them all to move faster, fearing they were already too late.

  As they finally entered the corridor outside the archives, Carriena let out a tiny whimper at the gruesome sight that greeted them. The freckle-faced sentry who had assisted Jax and George earlier lay in a dark pool of his own blood, his head nearly severed from his neck. Jax had no doubt that the same, gory fate had befallen the Praesidio knight who had been assigned to accompany Lotus to the washroom. She shuddered, wondering what Lotus had done with his escort’s body.

  Lord Ashcroft cursed as the color drained from his features. Jax felt no satisfaction at the man realizing the cruelty and skill of the individual they were up against.

  Beside her, George clenched his fist. “I told the poor lad everything was fine as we left him,” he muttered, his words heavy with guilt. “In my haste, I overlooked requesting that more protection be sent down here.”

  Jax placed her palm on his quivering shoulder, knowing there was nothing she could say to alleviate the responsibility her friend felt for the sentry’s violent death.

  “Get in formation,” Ashcroft growled to his men.

  A chorus of steel signaled swords being drawn, with George and Ziri standing firmly at Jax’s side. Carriena stayed behind Jax, her finger’s gripping Jax’s arm so hard she thought it might pop off.

  Ashcroft approached the door to the archives. “It’s open,” he wordlessly mouthed. “The lock has been forced.”

  With light, silent steps, the group inched forward, ready for whatever came their way. The archives stretched out ahead of them, the rows of shelves standing at rapt attention.

  In the cavernous space, it was easy to hear rapid movement bouncing off the walls. Someone was indeed inside.

  Ashcroft waved them down the far side of the room, tracking the noise. It was coming from the processing room.

  He paused outside the door and turned to Jax. “Dead or alive?” he whispered.

  Her lips drew into a thin line. “Alive, for now.”

  Ashcroft signaled once more to his men, who then dove into the room, swords aloft. George and Ziri quickly followed the rush of the Praesidio while Jax and Carriena remained in the doorway to watch the takedown unfold.

  Rowan Lotus stood with his hands up amidst a sea of chaos. Papers, maps, books—all the historic documentation the room contained—were strewn across the stone floors. Even Duchess Isabella’s portrait had been assaulted, the painted canvas torn from its frame.

  He roared upon seeing Jax. “Damn you, Duchess. I knew my time would be limited once you showed up here.”

  She stared at the man who had attacked Master Gautherd and taken Headmaster Ezarath’s life so savagely. “I’m so terribly sorry to foil your plans.”

  Her withering words made him flinch. Lotus took a step back, looking more and more like a cornered rat.

  Jax folded her arms and stepped over the threshold. “Why has the Shadow Brethren made such a bold attack on the Academy?”

  His golden eyes widened. “H-how?” His gaze flickered to his forearm, his long-sleeved tunic still covering the skin. “How did you know?”

  “Master Gautherd recalled receiving a visitor to the archives some weeks ago. A visitor bearing a strange tattoo.” Jax’s voice hardened. “I know from previous exploits involving your brethren that senior members of the guild are branded with its insignia. It seemed logical that other members might have the mark inked onto their skin as a tribute.”

  Lord Ashcroft shot Jax a questioning gaze. “You mean this man has been to the Academy before? Impossible! My men would have recognized him upon his return.”

  “Oh, I don’t think the Shadow Brethren would underestimate the Praesidio that severely, Lord Ashcroft.” Jax gave him a reassuring glance before lancing Lotus with her attention. “I suspect the guild sent someone else on that fact-finding quest.”

  When Lotus didn’t immediately respond, Jax gestured to Ziri, who swiftly pounced on the imposter, a blade pressed against his neck.

  “All right, yes!” he squeaked, ceasing his struggle against the spymaster’s grip.

  Jax resisted a chuckle at Ziri’s gleeful expression.

  “If you value your head being attached to your neck,” she continued, “I suggest you tell us the events that led you to murder one of the most respected minds in the realm, Master Lotus.” She snorted. “I’m almost ashamed it took me this long
to realize your treachery. Rowan Lotus, an herbalist? Not a very inventive identity, now, really?”

  “Just go ahead and kill me.” He spat, sending a lethal glare her way. “I’m dead if I return without completing my task, anyway.”

  “There are things much worse than death, Lotus,” Lord Ashcroft growled. “You’re mad if you think we’ll let you get off that easy. I think there’s a tome on skin-peeling somewhere in the archives that might prove an interesting read…”

  Lotus paled at the threat. “Very well.” Resigned, he swallowed, careful to avoid the sharp blade of Ziri’s knife as he did so. “About two months ago, our main conclave received a sealed missive bearing the crest of Savant. The Duke wrote, asking our Grandmaster to join something he called the Coalition of Right.”

  Jax stiffened. Qylvard had reached out to the Shadow Brethren to join his cause? Even after all he had done, she was still amazed he was willing to stoop so low and side with a criminal guild over her democratic ideals.

  “Of course, the Grandmaster denied the request. The Brethren’s only allegiance is to itself,” Lotus continued. “Several leaders within the guild’s Master Circle believed Savant wanted to lull us into an alliance, in hopes he could finally ferret us out and have us eradicated. However, the Duke was persistent in soliciting our aid. He issued a contract for the guild to complete, an assignment my cohort and I have been working on now for many weeks.”

  “What assignment is that?” Ashcroft spit out the words.

  “Duke Savant wrote of a hidden treasure tied to his family bloodline, and he wanted it uncovered to fund his upcoming war. He didn’t believe the War Council could be resolved peacefully and actively sought to prevent such an outcome from occurring. To do so, he needed more funds than his ducal treasury had access to.”

  Hearing further confirmation of Savant’s warmongering ways had Jax seething. “So, he sent you on a wild treasure hunt to fund his war,” she surmised through gritted teeth.

  Lotus nodded. “At first, my Brethren and I believed the treasure to be only a myth. But then Duke Savant came across some old documents he found in his archives, written by a High Courtier who served his family long ago. The documents stated that although a great debt had been paid by Hestes, the gold was never recorded into the treasury. The High Courtier served under Duchess Isabella’s court at the time, so Savant believed she might have had something to do with the gold’s disappearance, given her untimely death that same year.”