Heirs of War Page 6

  "Why do you tell us this?" He leaned on his hand, his fingers idly running over the fuzz of his faint beard with an air of nonchalance contradicting everything Terrena felt. "We have no quarrel with the Cahirans."

  Ingrid's placed her hands on her hips and huffed her disbelief. "The Ainnir Terrena has no quarrel with those wishing to kill her?"

  Kenward threw himself to his feet, his chair clattering to the floor, and grabbed her by the arm. "Who told you this? Do they search for her?" he demanded as he towered over the woman.

  Ingrid’s face, smug at the confirmation of her assumption, turned soft. The fear she felt for the two of them shined through her round face. "Not yet, but if I sussed it out, others may have as well. You must leave."

  He loosened his grip, relaxing his defensive stance. "Terrena, go get your things."

  "We have to warn Garrett," Terrena said as she made for the door, hands shaking at the idea of the Cahirans being so close. "He already left for the caves, but if we hurry we can catch up with him."

  Kenward rounded table, taking her hands into his and forcing her to look him in the eye. "They are too close, Terrena. If we search him out, we risk of running into them."

  "We can be careful," she argued although she knew her words were futile. Pity shone through his eyes as he looked down at her. His mind was made up. "We can't leave him behind. Please, Kenward."

  His words were weighted with his own sadness. “Would you risk his life?"

  "If we leave him, they will just as surely kill him."

  "I will find him, child," Ingrid offered. "I will find him and hide him. Perhaps he will be able to rejoin you later."

  She nodded stiffly, thanked Ingrid, and rushed off to her room to retrieve her things. When she returned, Kenward was questioning Ingrid about how close the Cahirans were and whether or not she had discussed Terrena's true identity with anyone, to which Ingrid claimed she hadn't.

  "When you find Garrett," he advised, "do not tell him who Terrena really is. Should he find us, he is safer not knowing. The less he knows, the safer he will be should the Cahirans get their hands on him."

  They left within the hour, disappearing without a trace as they were accustomed to doing when the time came to move on. They traveled all day, heading east, and making few stops along the way. Kenward now sat by the small campfire he had built, poking at the burning twigs and listening to Terrena's soft sobs. He had watched her all day as she kept an eye out for any sign of Garrett. There was little chance he would find them, but still she looked. Now, she seemed to have given up hope as her shoulders shook.

  "Terrena, you must eat.”

  "I'm not hungry."

  He laid down his stick and walked over to her, kneeling beside her makeshift bed and placing a kind hand on her back. "You have to keep up your strength in case we have to fight," he repeated.

  "They won't find us," she said with a humorless laugh. "They rarely do. I should never have let you talk me into leaving him."

  "My Terra," he soothed as he stroked her back, "we had no choice. We risked much to let him come along in the first place. We're lucky nothing has happened before now."

  She kept her back to him, lifting her head so she could see him out the corner of her eye. "What will they do to him if they find him?" she asked, her voice weak with fear.

  "I don't believe they will. Ingrid will hide him."

  "If they do?"

  "I imagine they will question him since he has been traveling with us. If they see he doesn't know anything," he said with a wistful sigh, "perhaps they will let him go."

  She closed her eyes, more tears escaping from beneath her lashes. "Don't soften the truth for me, Father. They’re monsters."

  "Yes, they can be, but they are also trying to win more people to their cause. An act of mercy might help them to do that."

  "I hope you're right," she said as she lowered herself back onto her makeshift pillow. She watched from the corner of her eye as he rose to go back to his spot by the campfire, until she called out to him softly. "Yes?"

  "Where will we go?" She didn’t really want to know the answer. Any path they took would take her further from Garrett. She was tired of running, tired of starting new life after new life. But she feared the time for running had come to an end.

  "We're going to Anscombe," he finally answered.

  She tried to hide her concern with more questions. "Do you think the others will come?"

  "I'm not sure how to reach them, to be honest."

  She turned onto her side to face him. "The twins will be eighteen soon. Isn't that why we left? So we might return when we have all come into our power and can better protect ourselves?"

  "Part of the reason, yes. With the five of you being so young and unable to defend yourselves, protecting you was much harder. Anscombe had proven to be riddled with spies, and once they were able to get to Solanna's child...." he trailed off, staring at his hands as he reflected back on the memory of the infant being snatched from the safety of their walls. "No measure would be considered too extreme when it came to keeping you safe. Ariana and Zelene should be eighteen soon, which means they are well beyond the age when their gifts would start to develop. Hopefully that means we will be followed soon by them when we return."

  "You don't think they're back already?"

  He shook his head with certainty. "Word of their return would have spread by now." He moved the embers around with his stick. "Don't trouble yourself with thoughts of your sister and cousins. We will get to Anscombe and go from there. What matters now is that we get you to safety."

  "What do you think their lives are like? On Dhara?" She’d longed to know more of the strange, magicless land the other girls had been sent to ever since Kenward had let it slip that they’d been sent there. He’d explained how she was too old at the time to adapt and blend in enough to keep her safe, but he hadn’t said much more than that. He was always worried other ears would be listening.

  "I can’t imagine, Terrena. Living in a world separated from the elements? It sounds terrible."

  "Why do you think that is? That the world is so weak, I mean.”

  "Honestly, I’m not sure. I've heard the same story as you over the years. Thousands of years ago, all the worlds were connected," he said, repeating the common history amongst their people. "Dhara was still connected as well, though considered to be the weakest among the worlds by far. It was rare for anyone born on Dhara to have the ability to wield the power of the elements and creatures depending on the connection to nature couldn't survive there. The people adapted, as people do. They became more dependent on machines and various gods than the world around them."

  "Eventually they became frightened of those of us touched by the elements," Terrena finished for him.

  He nodded his agreement. "The Duillaine Banair at the time made the decision to abandon Dhara to its own fate, and it's a good thing, too. Their fear and fanaticism grew to a murderous level. They began to kill anyone they even suspected to be like us, torturing them and burning them to death. The lucky ones were merely executed."

  She sat up, a look of consternation across her soft features. "Why would the Duillaine send them to Dhara knowing that world to be so dangerous?"

  "They don't believe it is. At least, not in the part of Dhara where the girls are. Many years have passed since the times of the burnings. Keep in mind that we still have people who travel there to study their ways. The treiors have probably been a great help to the Cynewards protecting the girls."

  She leaned down, propping herself up on her elbow. "It's so odd to think about how they get by without being able to call on Fire to warm them or Earth to heal their ailments. I can’t imagine what a difficult life Rhaya has led there."

  "As I said, people adapt. Just as the people of Estridia adapt to their surroundings, so do the people of Dhara," he said. "Do not worry for your sister. I doubt she knows anything about the power she can wield, and I doubt any connection to the elements has manifest
ed itself there anyway. I believe they chose Dhara for this reason. They felt their natural connections to the elements would be weakened there, aiding them to blend in, coupled with their ignorance of who they truly are, and I have to believe they are more protected than you have ever been."

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The room was dark, save a few flickering candles. Their wicks struggled to stay lit; the hours burning them had stripped the candles down to their ends. The room seemed to constrict as the light continued to dim, though the stone walls never moved. A shadow stretched across the dirt floor, flowing smoothly behind its owner. Her long blonde hair shimmered in the faint candle light, and her pale skin flushed with anger, accenting the telltale lines around her eyes that had begun to reveal her age. She turned back toward the limp, beaten figures bound at her feet.

  "You test my patience, Nandalia." Kellen narrowed her ice blue eyes at the captive woman hunched on the ground. "Agree to my terms, and all this can end."

  Nandalia stretched herself as tall and proud as her broken body would allow. Her reddish-brown hair was matted and caked with blood and dirt. The green dress she'd been wearing had been turned into rags, hanging off of her body, revealing the bruises and gashes underneath. She clutched the hand of the lifeless man beside her, fighting to recall the person he had been before the bloodied and pallid shell he had become. She still couldn't understand how Kellen had managed to kill him, but it had been weeks, and his body had yet to repair itself. He had fought until the end, and so would she. She raised her chin higher and stared firmly at the wall.

  "Your silence speaks volumes." Kellen knelt before her prisoner. "Silence didn't do much good for your protector, though." She lifted a twig and prodded his cool form.

  Nandalia's ire raised beyond control at this. She took advantage of her captor's close proximity and spat in her face. "Don't touch my Cyneward," she snarled.

  Kellen effortlessly raised herself, turning away as she pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of her dress and used it to address the spit on her face. "Temper, temper...we've been through this time and time again. You know what happens." She smiled, a rictus grin that never seemed to reach her nearly reptilian eyes, and turned back to face Nandalia, aiming her right hand at her chest.

  Nandalia pitched forward as she writhed in agony. Kellen relished in her screams, the same wicked smirk playing across her lips, her focus never leaving her prey. After several drawn out, anguished moments, Kellen released her hold, and Nandalia found she was able to breathe once more.

  Nandalia remained doubled over, still gasping for air as she coughed up blood. "Do whatever you wish with me," she panted. "I still won't help you. I will keep them safe until my dying breath."

  Kellen knelt down once more with a sympathetic smile. "They are no longer safe, my dear, regardless of your breath." She grabbed a fistful of her captive's hair and pulled her forward, pressing her mouth against her ear as she whispered, "I know where they are." She rose slowly, towering over the weakened leader as her shadow enveloped Nandalia in darkness. "Now, my darling little Duillaine, you may take your last breath."

  Nandalia threw her head back with a scream as she felt her flesh start to burn. "Keep them safe, Isauria. Protect them!" She begged to the ceiling, tears flowing. She opened her mouth and let out an agonizing cry joined with another one far away.

  ***

  "MOM," Isauria screamed in her sleep, thrashing around under her sheets. She continued to flail about as two hands clamped down on her shoulders, pinning her down.

  "Izzy! Isauria!" Liam's voice urged in the darkness. "Wake up. Isauria!"

  Her tear-drenched eyes fluttered open, and she let out a quiet sob as Liam pulled her into his arms. Her fists clutched to his flannel robe, her cries growing stronger as he comforted her.

  "It's okay," he soothed, rubbing her back, his hands shaking. "You were having a bad dream, that’s all."

  "It was so real, Dad." She pulled away, pressing her palms against her eyelids. She could still smell the stench of death from the cells where Nandalia had been kept, almost as if she had been standing beside her. But her dreams were always like that. They were so vivid and rich with detail that she would swear she had been transported somehow.

  He placed a hand on her cheek and wiped away a tear with his thumb. "Tell me what happened. What did you see?"

  She pulled her pillow into her arms, squeezing it tight against her chest, and leaned back against her headboard. "Nandalia. She's one of the Duillaine Banair. The people who rule over the worlds," she explained. "Kellen had her, and she was torturing her, trying to get her to agree to help her. No matter what she did, Nandalia refused. She just kept taking whatever Kellen dished out." She slumped against her headboard and a few more tears fell.

  "What did Kellen want Nandalia to help her with? Did she really think Nandalia would betray her own daughters to her enemy?"

  "No, she already knows where they are," Isauria responded dismissively. "I’m not sure what she wanted her help with. I didn't see that. It seemed like she wanted to learn more about the Prophecy, but I can't be sure." She sat up straighter as she noticed all the color had drained from her father’s face. “What’s wrong?”

  Liam ignored her concern, matching her question with his own. "What do you mean she already knows where they are? What else did Kellen say?"

  Isauria lifted her head up, giving her father a puzzled look. "She didn't say much of anything before she killed Nandalia. Just snuffed out her life like she was nothing." She sniffled. "She's pure evil."

  He ran hand over his face, which he usually did when he was worried. "How did Kellen get to Nandalia? Through her protections?"

  "I’m not sure. She’d already killed Alistair, though. Right in front of Nandalia," she said as her forehead wrinkled with her words. “He was her protection. Without him….”

  His eyes widened at the implications of this. "That's impossible."

  Isauria understood exactly what her father meant. Alistair had been the Cyneward to Nandalia, which meant he had blood-bound himself to her to protect her until her last breath. This bond also meant he was bound to the element of Earth as well. As long as their ward breathes, the earth itself protected the Cynewards, healing even the gravest injuries instantly so they might in turn protect the Duillaine they were bound to. The Duillaine alone were powerful enough to break this bond with Earth and kill a Cyneward. The idea that Kellen had managed to accomplish this was both absurd and terrifying.

  "She found a way," she said with a shrug. "I don't know why I'm crying. It's silly. I should be happy, right? This is good for my story. Plot developments are usually a good thing." She sounded more like she was trying to convince herself than voicing her actual feelings.

  Liam patted her knee. "I'll let you get to your notes," he said as he nodded toward the laptop on her nightstand. "Try to get some rest. I've got the feeling today is going to be a big day."

  ***

  Sheridan slid into the chair next to Ariana, clumsily putting her books on the desk before turning to her new friend, her face alight with excitement. "I found the absolute perfect dress for tonight. It's red, but like with this black netting over top and comes to about midthigh. I'm bringing a backup in case that one looks too risqué, but I hope it doesn't cause I love it."

  Ariana fumed, tapping her pencil against the desk as they waited for class to start. "No worries,” she said. “If your dress doesn't work, you can borrow mine. I can't go."

  Sheridan’s face fell. "Why not? I thought you said your parents agreed as long as Tate took you. Did he back out?"

  "No,” Ariana answered with a tight jaw, “but the other condition was that my Dad's friend had to chaperone. He backed out. Varrick called my Dad this morning. Apparently there's some kind of crisis at work, and Varrick has to go out of town."

  "Well, you can't get mad at him for that. I mean, he's not going to be here and work has to come first, right?" Sheridan reasoned before biting on her lower lip.
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  "I'm not mad at just him," Ariana said as she yanked her hair into a messy ponytail. “I’m mad at my parents for being so stupid. But most of all? I’m mad at the back-stabber Tate turned out to be.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She turned in her seat, lowering her voice as the teacher began calling roll. “He’s the reason I can’t go. He told Varrick not to let me. Oh, and then I overheard Varrick talking to my Dad after dinner last night about some big plan. And they started talking about keeping me safe. I don’t know what’s going on, but there’s some big secret they’re all keeping from me. And whatever it is, it’s the reason I can’t go to the dance. Apparently, it’s not ‘safe’ for me.”

  Sheridan covered her mouth with her hand, eyes wide. “Oh my gosh! Do you have a stalker or something?”

  Ariana hadn’t thought of that. All this talk of being kept safe, and not once had the thought occurred to her that they might all actually be protecting her from something. “I…I don’t know. I mean, I’ve never seen anyone following me. There’s was this new guy last year that was a bit weird, but whatever. He moved away. He was a total emo anyway, nothing serious.”

  “Have you asked Tate?”

  “How can I? He’s been M.I.A. pretty much since he called Varrick to kill off the last hope of a social life I had.”

  “What does M.I.A. mean?”

  Ariana blinked at her new friend, wondering just how sheltered she had been. “Missing In Action. It’s a military term or something. So you really think all this secret stuff is about a stalker?”

  Sheridan waved her off. “Probably not. I just watch too many movies. Look, I say we go to the dance anyway. We’ll talk to Allen beforehand so he knows to look out for trouble. Maybe we should even tell some teachers too.”

  “Tell some teachers I snuck out against my parents’ wishes to go to a dance where a potentially dangerous stalker that I know nothing about might be lurking in the shadows?”

  Sheridan laughed. “Okay, point taken. We’ll mention it when we get there. Pick you up around five?”