An eternity captive in a metal suit within the Technocrats’ dungeons. A burned-out tongue, crushed hands. No light or life ever again.
“Still, well done,” Remy says. He’s not happy with us, but it’s evident he’s beginning to realize what an asset our powers can be.
“Let’s go before more of them pick up our trail,” I say.
“And before they find what’s left of these,” Zandria says, kicking a stray piece of metal.
Finally heading in the right direction, we hike as quickly as we can with a few stops for food and rest. When darkness falls, we choose to walk all night. We’re near delirious with exhaustion, but stopping for sleep will mean our deaths.
Forward is the only way if we want to live long enough to warn the others.
We trudge along on weary legs and worn-out feet until the wee morning hours. The ravine finally comes into view, slicing through the earth.
The Chambers.
CHAPTER 2
RELIEF WASHES OVER ME. THE FAMILIAR gorge yawns before us, lined on either side with green trees and craggy rocks. The place where we must reveal the stone steps with a spell is nearby, welcoming as ever. Part of me was terrified we’d arrive too late.
My eyes sting with unshed tears, but I don’t let them fall. If we want the Magi to survive, Isaiah needs to take us seriously. I can’t afford to show any sign of weakness.
Remy’s expression shifts from the scowl he’s been wearing ever since we left Palinor to one that’s lighter, more hopeful. “The Techno camp . . . it’s really gone.”
“For now,” I say, unable to release the anxious knot in my gut.
We check our surroundings one last time to ensure no machines or guards followed us, then work the spell to open the stairs down into the ravine and the Magi’s refuge. Once we reach the bottom, we send the stairs back into the cliff face. Then we slip through the shadowed crack in the wall that leads into the strange world of light and life hidden in the massive cavern system the Magi call home.
For the first time, I don’t feel safe here.
I’m surprised to see no sign of the soldiers and mechs Darian had posted near the ravine. Not long ago, Remy and I narrowly avoided running right into them as we left the Chambers. Darian had plans for them to mine the vein of magic ore that runs through this land.
Something’s wrong. I can feel it in my bones.
We stumble our way to Isaiah’s home. Exhausted, we fall into the chairs around his kitchen table. The polished stone walls dotted here and there with the green that fills this place are the same as they were a few weeks ago. Isaiah comes out of his rooms, clearly not expecting guests at this early hour, let alone three bedraggled ones.
Not much can catch Isaiah Gaville off guard, but at the sight of us, his mouth drops open. He recovers himself a moment later.
“Remy, what is the meaning of this? You and Aissa are stationed in Palinor. You already risked your post to come here recently. Why are you here again?”
Before Remy can answer, I step forward. “We must speak to the council immediately. It’s an emergency.”
“You will tell me and I’ll decide if—”
“We will not,” I say, keeping my expression as calm as possible. “We’re all in grave danger, and the Armory Council must be warned.”
Isaiah’s deep frown informs me I’ve stepped way over the line. But his eyes widen when the spell that changed Zandria’s features dissipates and she reverts to her normal appearance. Mine expired minutes before we went down the steps.
“Both of you?” Isaiah muses. “You went against my explicit orders and rescued your sister?”
“No, Father,” Remy says with a grimace. “We were captured. But an . . . unexpected ally helped us escape with Zandria.” I silently thank Remy for not mentioning exactly who that ally was. That would do us no favors with his father.
Isaiah raises an eyebrow. “And you refuse to tell me the news you bring now?”
“The council must hear it. We wouldn’t do this if it weren’t of the utmost importance,” Remy says. “But first I have a question for you—is Darian Azul here?”
Isaiah shakes his head. “No. Why?”
“You’ll understand once we relay our news,” Remy insists.
His father scoffs. “Fine. I’ll convene the council. But know that I’m doing it primarily to call for censuring the three of you.”
He returns to his rooms and we’re left staring at each other.
Zandria snorts. “Well, that went terribly.”
Remy runs his hands over his face. “Yes, it did. Let’s try to get some sleep before the council convenes.”
Remy and I take the rooms we had before. This time Zandria joins me in mine and we sleep in the same bed. I don’t want to let her out of my sight now that I’ve got her back. We’re exhausted enough that we fall asleep quickly, our dreams filled with fears of what nightmares may come next.
We’re awakened by Remy shaking our shoulders.
“The council is convening in one hour,” he says. “We should eat something before we go.”
Zandria and I dress quickly in the clean clothes we stole on our way out of Palinor. What we were wearing is dirtied and torn from our flight and fight.
We give each other the once-over before we leave the room. Zandria fixes my mussed-up hair, while I pull a wayward leaf off her shirt. Things almost feel as they used to between us, except that her voice and expression are cold, void of her familiar warmth. It seems like an eternity ago that Isaiah first sat in our kitchen and assigned us our mission to find the Heartless heir to the Technocrat throne. Somehow that’s all led us here to deliver our dire warning.
We join Remy in a quick breakfast of toast and wild blueberry jam, then hurry to the cave where the Armory Council holds court. The lush greenery on the way is a sight for sore eyes, but the fear it could all disappear tempers any joy I might feel about being home. Our parents, for one, will never return here again. The Magi we pass greet us curiously. They know Remy well, and me—and Zandria—they recognize from when I came here last to plead for the council to help me rescue her. My arrival, and speedy exit, were noticeable to say the least.
We don’t linger, however, and when we arrive at the Armory Council room, we’re ushered in immediately and greeted by unhappy, suspicious faces. I’m just grateful Darian didn’t find a way to join us. The rushed meeting was necessary, even if it has angered some council members.
“Well,” Isaiah says, holding his arms wide. “What is it that you three must so urgently tell us?”
Isaiah glances at his son, but Remy cedes the floor to me. I step forward, my throat coated with icicles.
“We’ve come directly from Palinor with dire news. We walked all night without stopping, all while the woods were crawling with Technos hunting for us.”
That manages to raise some eyebrows.
“What did you do to earn such a show of force?” asks Masia Harkness, her long blue robes wrapped around her. Zandria’s eyes widen at the sound of Masia’s voice. We idolized her when we were children.
“We uncovered a terrible plot. One of our own, Darian Azul, spymaster, is working against the Magi. The Chambers has been compromised.”
The declaration is met with silence at first, then a laugh or two. Isaiah scowls.
“This is what you came here to do? Make baseless accusations against one of the most loyal weapons in the Armory?”
“It’s not baseless, Father,” Remy says. “I’ve seen and heard the proof with my own eyes and ears.”
“Darian’s the reason I was captured by the Technocrats in the first place,” Zandria says, her hands balled into fists at her sides.
“Yes, it is certainly . . . interesting . . . that you’re free now, Zandria.” Masia eyes me and Remy. “What is this proof you speak of?”
“Remy and I were searching the palace for the heir—as directed—when we happened upon some scientists heading to a demonstration of a supposed breakthrough on
a new power source,” I say. “We followed them and hid in the room next door. We heard Darian tell the gathered scientists and researchers the stone power source he was unveiling kept a charge after being infused with geothermal energy, but that was a lie. When he turned his machine on in the demonstration room, another lit up in ours. It contained Magi, clearly in pain.” I take a deep breath, then plunge ahead. “Darian has devised a means of draining our magic.”
The response is not at all what we anticipated.
“You must be joking,” Isaiah says, and several council members mutter the same beside him. “This is a wild story, but it doesn’t smack at all of truth.”
Frustration builds inside my chest. Once again, they’re going to rebuff us. But this time we all will pay the price.
Another council member speaks up. “What proof have you brought us of these grave accusations?”
“Our testimony is our proof,” Remy says. “I trusted Darian as much as any of you. Even when we saw our trapped brethren in the draining machines, I argued in favor of trusting him, just as you do now. It’s unthinkable he’d betray us in such a manner, but he did. When Aissa and I left the room, Darian used a spell to reveal us as Magi and oversaw our capture and subsequent interrogation.”
“You expect us to take your word against that of our most trusted spy?” Isaiah says.
“Yes,” I say. “He told me his whole plan in an effort to bring me—and by association, Zandria—over to his side.”
Masia sits up straighter, curiosity sparking in her dark eyes. “And what is his plan?”
I pause, painfully aware of the fact I’m about to betray another Magi’s secret. He may deserve it, but that doesn’t make me like it any better.
“Years ago, Darian was married.” That, finally, elicits some surprise among those on the council. “He married a Heartless. He became obsessed with their plight and led the charge to find a cure. When she died not long after their wedding, his work moved into dangerous territory. He didn’t just want a better power source—he wanted one that would run forever and would make the Heartless loyal to him. Because while this was happening, the Armory’s plan to install him on the throne was also in motion. Darian was ready to assume leadership, either through playing the role he was meant to or by building an army of supercharged Heartless who had sworn fealty to him.”
“And he’d already decided to play both sides,” Remy adds. “He told the Technocrat king and queen years ago that the Magi tried to recruit him, and they instructed him to play along. He’s been feeding us bad intel ever since. For example, the Heartless heir was really a boy around our age, not a little girl as Darian suggested.”
Isaiah’s mouth is clamped closed. He knows the intel we got about the heir being female was incorrect, but he may not have informed the rest of the Armory Council.
“And why would he admit all this to you, Aissa?” Isaiah says.
I grimace, not loving the lie I’m about to tell. “Somehow he got wind of how Zandria’s and my magic amplifies each other’s before I even came to the council a few weeks ago. He wanted us on his side. To join his army once he stages his coup. He even set a trap for Zandria in the tunnels so he could leverage her to ensure my assistance.”
“You?” Isaiah begins to laugh. More than one council member covers their mouth to hide their own laughter. “So this is your proof? An inflated sense of your own importance? Ridiculous,” he says.
My anger flares, making me dizzy.
“He imprisoned me too, Father,” Remy says. “He may not have tried to win me over to his cause like he did Aissa, but he was ready to condemn me to life in a metal suit without a second thought.”
Isaiah blinks at this but remains unmoved. “If you were imprisoned, it was your own fault. That’s the price for mistakes when it comes to the Technocrats.”
Remy’s mouth drops open. He’s finally beginning to realize what Zandria and I long ago understood: Isaiah is a harsh taskmaster. He’s as cold as the Technocrats themselves. Even his only son cannot change his mind.
“We’ll all pay the price if you don’t listen to us!” Zandria steps forward, visibly shaking. She can barely contain her magic. I almost put a restraining hand on her shoulder, but then think better of it. It might make things worse.
“She isn’t wrong,” I say. “Darian also threatened the Magi living here in the Chambers.”
Masia leans forward, suddenly more interested. “What do you mean? How did he threaten us?”
“When Remy and I left the Chambers the last time we were here, a camp of Technocrat soldiers and their mechanimals were prowling along the edge of the ravine. At first, we were afraid a captured Magi had given up the location of the secret camp, but later Darian told me they were here at his orders.”
“Is this army still there?” Masia asks.
“Not that we noticed. And we were very careful coming here.”
Isaiah sits back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “Then I suppose you have your answer. They weren’t much of a threat after all, were they? If Darian meant to use them against us, wouldn’t he still have them posted here?”
“I—I would’ve thought so,” I admit. “But they may have been recalled to hunt for us.”
“Ah yes, again because you’re critical to Darian’s nefarious plans.” Isaiah’s expression—mocking disbelief—is mirrored on several other faces in the room.
“It’s the truth,” I say between clenched teeth. Zandria simmers next to me, her face turning beet red.
“What would you have us do then? Cast Darian out?” Isaiah scoffs.
“You need to flee the Chambers,” I snap. “Darian made it clear that if we didn’t cooperate, he would take his disappointment out on the rest of the Magi.”
Isaiah shakes his head as if he can’t believe his ears. “I think we’ve heard more than enough.”
“Wait, I have one more question,” Masia says. “If you were caught in the dungeons as you claim, how did you escape?”
A muscle in my jaw begins to twitch. “We had help.”
Masia frowns. “From whom? Darian and Remy were the only spies we had stationed in the Palace aside from yourself.”
“A Technocrat.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Why would a Technocrat help you?”
Zandria scowls. “Because he’s in love with Aissa.”
Heat flashes over my face.
Isaiah stands. “Hold on. Last Remy reported back, you were getting closer to an informant who you discovered was actually the Heartless heir. Is that the Technocrat who helped you escape?”
I nod. This is the last thing I wanted to tell them, but Isaiah knows too many pieces of the story, and lying will only sink our entire case.
“Your orders were to kill him. Why was he alive to help you?” Isaiah says through gritted teeth.
“He doesn’t deserve to die, and I wasn’t about to put Darian on the throne after discovering his treachery.” Not exactly the order of events, but it’s the story that will best protect Aro.
“Who are you to decide that?” he growls.
Before I can answer, Zandria reaches the boiling point. But she aims her rage at the wrong person: me.
“He was stabbed by a guard as we escaped, and she even saved his life!” she says. I gape at her, but she won’t meet my eyes. She’s tiptoeing around dangerous territory; she knows full well falling in love with a Technocrat is considered treason.
Isaiah’s face turns purple. “You used magic to heal a Technocrat? One you were ordered to assassinate? What were you thinking?”
Something inside me snaps. “I was thinking he could be an ally, someone inside the Palace walls who is actually loyal, unlike Darian has been to the Magi.”
Isaiah’s hands drop to his sides and he becomes frighteningly calm and cold. “You may wait outside while we confer about what to do with this . . . information.”
CHAPTER 3
WE’RE USHERED INTO THE SAME LITTLE room where we a
waited the council’s verdict on whether to help Zandria only a few weeks ago. I have the same sinking feeling in my stomach now.
“What a fool!” Zandria exclaims once the door closes behind us. “He’d already made up his mind before we even entered the council room. And he took issue with every single thing we said. Ugh!”
“Isaiah is not an easy man to persuade, especially when he’s sure he’s right about something.” I begin to pace. “Your little outburst didn’t help matters at all, thanks.”
Zandria looks away again, but her cheeks are pink.
Remy sits on a bench with his head in his hands. “He’s known Darian for too long to doubt him.” He lets out a small laugh. “I’m sure the Technocrat royals would be just as difficult to convince. Darian holds the same place here as he does with them—second in command, essentially. Trusted advisor. The idea he could betray the Magi is just . . . unthinkable to my father.” He sits back. “I’m not sure I can blame him. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I doubt I’d believe you either.”
“Then you’re a fool too,” Zandria snaps.
“Zandy, that’s not helping,” I say.
She whirls on me but doesn’t get a word in before the door opens. Masia Harkness, Magi legend, steps out and closes the door behind her. We all stare. Masia is rumored to have taken down several well-positioned Technocrat men on her own. And she’s one of the best spellcasters the Magi have ever seen. She regards us with keen eyes, then shakes her head, her short black hair rustling.
“I’m afraid I have bad news,” she says. “The Armory Council doesn’t believe your story. And Isaiah is all but ready to string you up for disobeying a direct order to assassinate the heir, Aissa.”
My throat closes. Did they send Masia out here to kill me?
Zandria steps closer to me, and I can’t help feeling a little comforted.
Heartless Heirs Page 2
