Heartless Heirs

by MarcyKate Connolly

  Sooner or later, she must confront that boiling rage within her or she’ll explode. It just can’t be tonight.

  “All right, all right,” she says. “I just hate being this close and letting it stand.”

  I squeeze her hand. “I feel the same. But we have to play the long game. We must survive.”

  We continue down the hall. Before we rescue a prisoner, we’ll require a layout of the dungeon. Remy and I saw part of it when Aro rescued us, but we need a map of the entire thing so we know which cells we’ve rescued people from and if there’s anything different about the area where they hold the Magi. Then, we can rescue someone and get the forges out of here.

  The going is slow, as we’re avoiding guards and still trying to get the lay of the land, which is difficult due to many offshoots and dead-end corridors. But once we’re confident we’ve made a full circuit and entered notations of the dungeon, we have to pick a cell to open. Zandria gravitates to one around the corner from our escape route. “I have a good feeling about this one,” she says, and I have no objection. Zandria quietly casts a handspell to pull the gears inside the lock into just the right position to unlatch. A soft plink rings out in the hall and we hold our breaths. There isn’t anywhere to hide here other than under our shield spell. We’re much more exposed now than we ever were in the drainage tunnels.

  Magic courses through my veins, but I keep it in check. If I were to cast any kind of attack spell, I’d have to drop the shield first, and there’s no way I’m risking that right now. We should’ve brought Owen tonight too. His dual casting ability would’ve come in handy.

  Instead of kicking myself for not thinking about Owen sooner, I focus on the now. My sister and I are the key to eking out some semblance of peace between the Technos and the Magi; we have to make it out of here alive.

  When no one appears to arrest us, we creak open the door and slip inside the cell, closing it gently behind us. In the middle of the room, a person is suspended in a metal suit. I can barely hear the faintness of their breathing. I glance at my sister—she’s gone stock-still.

  I shake her arm. “Zandy! Snap out of it. I know this is difficult, but we don’t have time for you to freeze up. Let’s get them out of this suit, back in walking condition, and then get out of here.”

  She blinks. “We must hurry,” she says, then immediately begins working her magic. One by one the bolts holding the suit together fall to the floor. I’ve dropped our shield for now and help pull pieces of the suit off as I begin humming the notes of a healing spell. If this Magi’s condition is anything like Zandria’s was, they’ll be in bad shape. We need them to be able to at least walk so we can escape.

  When I take the helmet off, I see that it’s a girl. Her long dark hair is matted with blood and knots. She wears pants and a tunic that were probably finely made but are now fraying and stained with blood and dirt, making the original color impossible to determine. My stomach turns. This one wasn’t just sentenced to imprisonment; she’s been tortured too. Her eyes are swollen shut, and her face is bruised beyond recognition. Blood drips from her mouth, but I can’t tell whether that’s because her tongue became infected after the Technos burned it to stop her from incanting or she’s been beaten recently.

  The one thing I do know is she’s not conscious. That needs to change. Fast.

  We rest her on the floor of the cell, and I get to work healing her while Zandria removes the rest of the bonds from her hands and legs.

  “Her hands . . .” Zandria says, a quiver sneaking into her voice.

  “I know. It’s awful,” I say. “Just try not to look.” The spell I sing softly over the girl rises in pitch, soothing her bruises, knitting the broken bones in her hands back together, and sealing new pink skin over the wounds and burns on her feet and legs. In a few minutes, she coughs. Her eyes open as the swelling in her face subsides and it returns to its normal shape. She gasps when she sees us, and so do we.

  Vivienne.

  CHAPTER 23

  “FORGES!” ZANDRIA MOANS. “WE JUST wasted all that time on a Technocrat!”

  “Aissa?” Vivienne says, then glances to her right. “Zandria? What are you . . . how . . . ?” She bursts into tears.

  “It’s not wasted,” I say quietly. “She loved Paul, the baker’s son. When she vouched for him after the queen discovered he was a Magi, she endured terrible torture.” I shudder, remembering the day I accidentally witnessed the queen take out her “mercy” on Vivienne. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. “She didn’t deserve that, and she doesn’t deserve to be here.”

  “But we’re here to rescue our own kind,” Zandy hisses.

  “And yet we’ve rescued her.” I get to my feet and help Vivienne to hers.

  “What’s going on?” she whispers. “I don’t know how you found me, I don’t know how I’m even alive, but please get me out of here.”

  “Why?” Zandria demands of me, refusing to acknowledge Vivienne.

  “Because we need allies. From both sides of the war. Just like the original Alchemist Alliance.”

  Zandria bristles for a moment longer, likely recalling how we used to dream about destroying everything to do with the Technocrats back when we were in school with Vivienne. Finally, she relents. “Fine. We don’t have time to free anyone else tonight anyway. But if this goes south, it’s on you.”

  I smile. “We’re leaving, Viv. Stay close, and remain as quiet as possible, all right?” She nods, visibly too scared to speak. We move toward the door and crack it open. Zandria has set our shield in place, and I work the silencing spell. We’ve hardly left the cell before the click of metal heels on the floor echoes down the hall, making our adrenaline spike.

  I’ve heard that sound a few times before: when Queen Cyrene walked the halls of the Palace.

  “Move!” I hiss, and we hurry down the hall with Vivienne between us, racing around the corner. Several guards stand nearby, and we halt. Vivienne squeaks, but the guards don’t hear thanks to our silencing spell.

  Behind us, we hear the sound of a cell door unlatching. Moments later, an icy voice rings out down the hall. “Guards!”

  Vivienne cringes, wrapping her arms around her middle.

  We freeze. We’re stuck between the guards and the queen. In my head, I run through several possible scenarios and outcomes. None of them sound good. But one way or another, we’re going to have to make a break for it. I see no other way out.

  Behind me, Zandria pulls out the short sword she chose in the Tomb of Regents from her belt, gripping the hilt tightly. We may very soon see whether these swords really do have magical properties.

  The queen rounds the corner, her face scowling with ice-cold rage. “Where is the prisoner in that cell?” She points angrily down the hall. “She was there less than an hour ago.”

  The guards immediately stand at attention, alarm on their faces. No one wants to get on Queen Cyrene’s bad side. Not if they want to keep all their limbs and live to see another day.

  One of the guards speaks up. “We haven’t seen or heard anything, Your Majesty.”

  The queen approaches him, moving faster than I would’ve thought possible. I can feel the breeze as she glides by us while we flatten ourselves against the hallway wall. She stops inches from the guard’s face.

  “Why not?” She waves her hand back down the hall. “Clearly she’s gone. How do you explain that?”

  “I . . . I can’t, Your Majesty.” This is the first time I’ve ever seen a Technocrat guard look nervous. I’d relish it if we weren’t in as much danger of encountering the queen’s ire.

  “And what about you?” She addresses another guard. He shakes his head.

  “No, Your Majesty.”

  He barely finishes saying “Your Majesty” before the queen lurches forward and grabs him by the throat. He gurgles as his feet leave the ground. A bead of blood swells on his neck where she digs her razor-sharp nail into his throat. Zandria and Vivienne both recoil, leaning close to me.

&n
bsp; “Use your head if you wish to keep it,” Queen Cyrene growls at the guard, then she releases him before he passes out. “That goes for all of you.” She points to the other guards and they straighten their spines. “Now, if a girl was here an hour ago and suddenly isn’t, but no one heard a thing, what might have happened?”

  She waits for an answer, but the guards stare dumbly back. Finally, one tentatively speaks up. “The Magi, Your Majesty?”

  She smiles horribly. “One of you does have half a brain after all. Now go, find them. If a Magi made it into the Palace, she may not be the only thing they came for. They could be anywhere.”

  One of the younger guards asks, “But how can we find someone who helped a prisoner escape without any trace at all?”

  The queen edges toward him, and he takes a step back. “They’re canny folk. Their magic can mask sounds, even make them invisible. But they still take up space. Do a full sweep of every hallway in the dungeon. Then go floor by floor until you’ve found them. Enlist the whole guard.”

  Even though I know our spells will hold, I’m terrified of making a sound. We need to move—and soon—but if they’re sweeping the halls in a four-deep formation, we’ll be caught. Unless we duck into a cell first. But with the Technos on high alert, that would attract attention too.

  Sweat begins to bead on my forehead. I don’t see any safe way out of this. We’ll have to make a break for it while one of us causes a distraction. I glance at my companions. I can’t allow either Vivienne or my sister to be recaptured. They’ve already suffered in these dungeons for far too long. Going back would break them.

  If anyone has to risk getting caught, it’s going to be me.

  I motion to Zandria to remain where she is and that I’ll head back down the hall in the direction of Vivienne’s cell. At first she frowns, then her eyes widen. She shakes her head vigorously.

  It’s the only way, I mouth at her, and her free hand balls into a fist at her side. She doesn’t like it, but she knows that I’m right. We’ve trained together enough; she understands she and Vivienne will need to run for the door behind the Techno sigil once I cause the distraction. I glance quickly at the map in my hands. I should be able to double back and get through the door too, if I play my cards right.

  Regardless, this is a risky plan. But so was breaking into the Palace tonight.

  The main problem is we’ll each have one spell less—meaning Zandy and Vivienne will remain under the shield, but without a silencing spell. And for the distraction, I won’t have any spells protecting me for a few minutes, until I can replace the shield again.

  How foolish we were sneaking around below the city, believing ourselves invincible.

  I pause at the corner, while the queen continues to chastise the guards as they assume a four-fold formation, just like I feared.

  Then I drop my shield spell.

  One of the guards gasps, and the whole group—including the dread queen—turns toward my end of the hall. To my relief, Zandria and Vivienne dash forward under their cloaking spell and make it past the guards without being detected. Now they only have to reach that door and open it without anyone noticing. Zandy’s right about one thing; this would’ve been easier if Vivienne were a Magi. But there’s no help for it now.

  “Apprehend her!” the queen screams. The guards waste no time heeding her command. I bolt down the corridor, grateful for the circuit Zandria and I took before. I know where to go, and which halls lead to dead ends. I hum the shield spell under my breath as I run. An electric thrill fills my limbs. My sister and I trained daily for maneuvers exactly like this.

  Tonight, we’d better make our parents proud. Otherwise, we’ll end up dead as well.

  I need to escape with Zandria and Vivienne, for my people, my sister, and the boy I’m bound to. They’re all depending on me.

  The weight of this understanding is heavy, but in a strange way it lifts me up. Buoys me. Lights a fire under my feet hotter than any forge.

  Heavy boots stomp behind me, but the guards no longer see where I run. Though if they stopped, they’d hear me. While my shoes are leather and better for sneaking than the guards’ boots, my breathing could definitely become a problem.

  I skate around the next corner. Then I duck down one hallway and momentarily drop my shield, intentionally letting them see me. I double back and race down another corridor toward the secret door. Hopefully, Zandria and Vivienne are already running down the passage.

  But when I reach the area from the opposite angle with my shield back in place, I find exactly what I’d hoped to avoid: guards. Even more of them. My breath hitches in my chest when I see the queen.

  She’s still here.

  I can’t let her see me open the sigil wall and enter that secret door. I don’t know how much she knows about the Palace tunnels—Aro told me he discovered them by accident one day—but we can’t risk her realizing it’s there. She’ll send every machine she’s got to scour the tunnels, then drag us before her throne to suffer her mercy.

  The moment I register the queen’s presence, she frowns in my direction.

  Queen Cyrene holds up a fist. “Silence!” she barks. Every guard obeys instantly.

  I try to calm my breathing, but between that and my racing heart, I fear I’ve given myself away.

  She steps forward ahead of the guards, a sinister gleam in her frosty blue eyes. “They’re here.”

  Suddenly, I know what I must do. I run back down the hall, not even trying to conceal my footsteps this time.

  The Technocrats take the bait and charge after the noise I make. It takes a moment for me to realize someone is gaining on me faster than I expected. I glance behind and realize it’s the queen. My pulse spikes. She is fast. There must be some mechanical enhancement that isn’t visible on the outside allowing her to move like that.

  Under no circumstances can I let her get ahold of me.

  If she does, I’ll have no choice but to kill her. That wouldn’t have given me a moment’s pause a few weeks ago, but it does now. Killing someone steals a little piece of your soul. And while she may deserve a taste of her own mercy, she’s still Aro’s mother. Their relationship is complicated. If I kill her, even if it’s the only option, Aro might never forgive me.

  Something tugs on the end of my favorite cloak. I whirl around, nearly knocking the queen off her feet as her nails slice through the fabric’s edge. A corner flutters to the ground, and she grins wickedly.

  “Almost got you,” she says.

  “Ventus,” I whisper, letting go of my shield to cast another spell. The magic blasts her back with an enormous gust of wind. She tumbles, knocking her head on the metal wall in the process, then slumps to the floor in a mess of silk and pale blond curls. My hands shake. That was much too close.

  But I don’t have time to dwell on that now. More shouts resound behind me. Guards. I relinquished my shield to cast the wind spell, making me a much easier target.

  I face them, keeping a keen ear out for any hint the queen has regained consciousness.

  The guards hesitate when they see me. One of them even laughs. I must seem insignificant. A mere girl against four armed guards. But then they see their ruthless queen in a heap on the floor behind me.

  That changes the expression on their faces in an instant.

  “Step away from the queen, Magi,” the closest one shouts at me. They’re keeping their distance. Good. “Where’s the prisoner you stole?”

  “Don’t worry, she’s safe,” I say. My magic brews inside my veins, filling me with a heady rush. “Ventus,” I intone again, directing the gale of wind toward the guards and blasting them back against the metal walls. Two of them are knocked out like the queen, but the other two struggle back to their feet, brandishing their weapons despite the disoriented glaze in their eyes.

  “Ascensio,” I murmur, and my magic sweeps them up, suspending them in the hall a few feet over the floor. They struggle and kick, but it’s no match for my magic. I walk by them and
wave, then my magic smashes their helmets together and tosses them aside.

  This time, no one gets up.

  CHAPTER 24

  MY LEGS FEEL WEAK AND SHAKY, BUT I RUN back down the corridor to where the door hides. I slam my palm against the sigil and it slides open. When it closes behind me, I decide not to take any chances. I call my magic back up, muttering the spell: “Cincin.”

  Even if the Technocrats do know about these hidden tunnels, that will keep them out until I or Zandria undoes the locking spell. Hopefully Darian won’t catch on. I’ll have to ask Aro whether he knows about these particular tunnels. I know he’s aware of the ones that lead out of Palinor, at least.

  I’ve barely gone three feet down the tunnel when Zandria appears before me and wraps her arms around me in a bear hug.

  “Worried, sister?” I say, surprised by the unexpected show of affection. I hug her back just as fiercely. This is the most affection she’s shown me since we rescued her. It gives me hope that despite her surliness, family does still come first. And that eventually she might be more like her old self again. “You shouldn’t have waited.”

  She releases me and gives me a look. “I wasn’t about to leave here without you. If you hadn’t come out soon, I was ready to go back in after you.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t. I barely escaped the queen.” I show her my cloak. “She took a piece out of my cloak and everything.”

  She raises an eyebrow. “Sounds like she doesn’t approve of you and Aro.”

  “Apparently not. Though I never expected a warm welcome.”

  Vivienne peeks around the corner. “Are you all right, Aissa?” she asks.

  “I’m fine.” Then to Zandria, I ask, “How’s she taking the fact we’re Magi?”

  She shrugs. “A lot better than I expected, actually.” She studies our old schoolmate for a moment. Then, low enough so only I can hear, she says, “I might even be all right with letting her live. Provided she agrees to keep our secrets.”