Odriel's Heirs Read online

  “No!” Kaia yelled as the guard raised the bludgeon against the dog again. “Stop! He’ll be good.” She turned to Gus, a bloody gash oozing from his head. Tears thickened her voice. “It’s ok Gus, we’ll be ok.”

  He whined. It hurts. You’re hurt. We’re hurting.

  The guards led the cowed Dragon Heir and her dog down the curving stairs and through a marble hall, but they came to a sudden stop as Valente approached them.

  Kaia's eyes burned with anger as they bored into the fair lordling. "I suppose you're part of this, too, Val?"

  "Kaia, this isn't how I wanted it to be.” He ran his fingers along the copper braid hanging down her cheek. "But, you must understand, unless we are united, Okarria will fall."

  The dragon fire raged through her, snapping and crackling through her limbs, yet crashing impotently against the dam of her metal gauntlets. All of Valente’s kindness had been a strategy, a tactical ploy. How could she have been so naïve?

  "Lord Valente.” She lifted her chin. “If you could step aside, I believe I'm wanted in the cellar.”

  Valente's eyes hardened as he moved to the side of the spotlessly whitewashed hall. "Think hard about this, Kaia—you'll see that we're right. You can't win on your own."

  The guards hefted her through a maze of corridors lined with strange paintings and odd sculptures. They hauled her past opulent rooms filled with expensive furniture and thick rugs, her feet trailing limply across the polished floors, toward a small door at the far back of the manor. They flung open the door and unceremoniously pushed her into the dark, kicking Gus in after her with a frightened yap. The door slammed behind them and doused their only light. Blinded, Kaia took a step and found no ground beneath her foot. She flailed her bound arms as she tumbled painfully down the wooden steps, landing face flat on the rough stone floor.

  Kaia groaned as she crawled to a wall and found a corner to prop herself up against. Gus followed her anxiously, and she leaned against the shaggy dog for warmth. The cellar smelled faintly of the wine that it had once housed, but with the only light flickering through the bottom of the door, she could see nothing in the dark.

  She let her chin drop into her chest. How stupid she had been to be deceived by the Conrad’s false smiles. Her friends were out there somewhere, looking in the wrong direction, or perhaps even cursing her name as a traitor. She choked back a sob—a friendless girl once more.

  Maybe Conrad was right. If she couldn’t even protect herself, how could she possibly manage to defend anyone else? Shame, despair, and fear twisted together within her, reflecting the darkness that surrounded her. Without the dragon fire, she was totally and completely helpless.

  Gus licked her cheek. Not alone. Not helpless. Together, we are strong.

  Kaia let her cheek rest against his coarse fur as her body throbbed, her inflamed throat feeling triple its normal size. All she really wanted to do was lie down on the cold floor and seek peace in unconsciousness.

  Gus yipped. Not yet.

  The smell of his musty fur recalled another beast to mind, and his wise words: If ever you need a light Kaia, just remember the one that burns within you never goes out.

  Kaia pressed her lips together. She couldn’t see it, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t still there. “Right.”

  Using the wall for support, she forced herself to rise. Stumbling back to the staircase, she focused on putting one elbow in front of another, she crawled to the top and tested the knob. Locked.

  She patted the stair weakly, her gauntlets clanking, and Gus ambled up to give her face a reassuring lick. She buried her face in his neck, trying to control her shakes. The only possibility for her escape lay in overpowering the next person who opened the door. But, in her weakened state, even walking out on her own power might be challenging, much less fighting the guards.

  She began to cough again, the attack seizing her whole body until she could hardly draw breath. A rising panic exacerbated the fit. Need to breathe. Can’t breathe. Why can’t I breathe?! At last, the attack released her and she gulped in shallow breaths of stale air. She cupped her fevered forehead in her gauntleted hands and tried to calm herself.

  Escape or die. It was that simple.

  She’d wait until someone came to check on her, and then do whatever it took to overpower her captors and escape. Until then, she had to wait and try to ignore the glass in her throat, her splitting head, or the deep cold that had settled in her bones. Gus settled onto the top step, and she rested her heavy head on his flanks.

  In her fevered haze, she dozed in and out of consciousness, dreaming that Mogens held her prisoner, pressing his serrated knife against her throat. She stumbled away from him towards the flaming pyre waiting to claim her. The bonfire’s heat felt glorious against the cold that shook her. If she could just lie down in the flames, all the pain would go away, and she could finally be warm. Mogens pressed his knife to her back, pushing her to the fire. But her father was there, right in front of her, barring the way. Shaking his head, he shoved her away from the furnace. Mogen’s knife pressed harder against her skin, piercing and cutting. The pain flooded in, the pain, the pain—

  She awoke coughing again, the fits reverberating in her chest. She couldn’t stop it. No air. No air. Is this what dying feels like? She thought as black edged her vision. Her father’s face flashed in her mind again, until at last, she managed to suck in a painful breath.

  She gasped raggedly as Gus looked at her with worried eyes. My poor girl.

  She wouldn’t be able to stop another attack like that. Is this where she would die? As a child, she had always dreamed it might be on the battlefield, a glorious hero’s death or a sacrifice for the greater good. Or maybe she might have lived out a full, fruitful life, finally surrendering peacefully to old age in a quiet mountain cottage. But she never imagined the possibility of gasping for her final breath alone in a dark basement.

  Voices on the other side of the cellar door interrupted her thoughts. Hurried footsteps and a loud thumping sounded from the hall. Kaia vaguely wondered if she should be worried. Perhaps the Conrads had sold her out to Ariston after all. Or worse, Mogens.

  The commotion neared, and Kaia tried to wake herself from her trance, slapping her cheeks and shaking her head. If someone opens the door, I’ve got to burst through with everything I’ve got. It may not be much, but I have to try.

  The door rattled as if something had been pushed up against it. Kaia winced—they wouldn’t barricade her in, would they? Then, the familiar tinkle of keys came to her ears, and she arranged herself in a crouch, ready to spring. When the wooden door creaked open, Kaia slammed against it, flinging it wide. She raised her manacles to face her first opponent, but to her surprise, there was no one. Off balance, Kaia stumbled through the door and found herself caught in an invisible web. She struggled weakly for a moment before a mud-splattered Klaus winked into view.

  “Hey, relax! It’s just me!” he whispered, trying to restrain her flailing limbs.

  Kaia stared at him, dumbfounded for a moment, trying to comprehend his presence in the Conrad’s house of poison.

  His eyes brimmed with concern beneath his dark brows. “You don’t look so good, Firefly.” His gaze flicked to the ragehound.

  Gus whined, his ears flat against his head as he wiggled like a puppy. Our boy!

  “Hold still, Gus.” He pulled a knife from his belt and cut away the strap of the muzzle.

  Finally, it dawned in Kaia’s fuzzy thoughts that Klaus was there to take her home, and she threw herself into his arms in relief. “Oh, thank Odriel.”.

  He chuckled. “I never thought you’d be that happy to see me.”

  She pulled away, unsteady but with renewed energy borrowed on hope. “Be quiet, and let’s get out of here. Everything hurts, and I can barely breathe with all this coughing.”

  “It’s ok, Firefly. Fiola made sure that I brought the medicine. It’s outside with the Dalteek.” He wrapped his long fingers around her wrists, exami
ning the Dragon Claws. "What's this?"

  "Spelled gauntlets that suppress my flames," she whispered. Klaus raised his eyebrows. "Conrad must have the keys."

  “Quickly then, before the coward runs."

  Klaus pulled her behind him as he led them through a maze of hallways. She tried to suppress her coughs to avoid attracting any unwanted attention. Gus' toenails clicked on the hard floor as he slinked along behind, his tail wagging furiously.

  “This is why you don’t talk to strangers,” Klaus teased, glancing back at her.

  Her eyes crinkled, too tired to banter. “How’d you know where to find me?”

  He scowled. “The bastards covered their tracks well, but Mackie asked the birds to help us.” He rounded a corner. “When we found out you'd been taken, we were worried Mogens had gotten to you.” He paused, looking sideways at her. “I’m relieved that particular snake doesn’t appear to reside in this den.”

  Kaia nodded, her forehead wrinkling. “But Conrad said he wrote a note in my name….”

  The Shadow Heir didn’t answer as he turned again into the main foyer and his muscles tensed—five hard-looking men in armor blocked the main entrance.

  Conrad smiled down on them from the grand staircase, “Ah, Guardian Thane, I suppose we should have expected you, but I cannot let you just walk out with my honored guest.”

  Valente's blue eyes shone out from his father's shadow. "You're making a mistake, Kaia." His voice echoed in the foyer, at once grave and beseeching.

  “Call off your dogs, Conrad, before they get hurt,” Klaus warned. He released Kaia and drew his sword. Kaia leaned tiredly against the wall of the corridor.

  “They're simply doing what they believe to be right,” Lord Conrad said. “We can't have you challenging Lord Ariston as he strives to protect the land from evil.”

  Klaus stepped towards the men. “You can't fight evil with evil.”

  “Then, I'm afraid this difference in opinion will come to blows,” Conrad sneered.

  With a gesture from their master, the men rushed forward to meet Klaus. But just as they closed on him, he and his blade winked out of sight. The soldiers stumbled to a stop, dumbfounded.

  Kaia almost smiled. It was one thing to know about the Shadow Heir’s gift, and quite another to see it in action. A minute passed and then two, as the men looked nervously about them.

  “Don’t just stand there,” Valente called from the balcony. “Find him!”

  The men spread out and waved their weapons tentatively in front of them.

  One of the thugs looked up at the Conrads. “Maybe he ran—”

  An invisible fist smashed into his face, cutting him off. The brutes converged on the spot, brandishing their blades wildly. The clang of steel on steel rang through the hall, then a man cried out as he fell, clutching a gushing thigh. The others backed into a tight circle and slashed wildly in a desperate bid to prevent their invisible attacker from coming closer.

  Even without his gift, Klaus was a skilled swordsman—unseen, he was unbeatable. Kaia and the Conrads watched as a man’s sword flew out of his hand, and a bleeding stab-wound appeared in his shoulder. One of his comrades came to his aid, but only sliced through empty air in an impotent attack. In another moment, Klaus cleaved his right hand from his arm, and the man’s anguished screams filled the foyer as scarlet slicked the marble floor.

  The iron tang of blood filled Kaia’s nose. She swallowed bile as the unwelcome image of Mogens hovering over her father’s body cut through her fog of sickness. This is different, she reminded herself. The Shadow Heirs were Odriel’s Assassins—gifted and efficient killers. Still, it was a sight to behold.

  Only two of Conrad’s thugs remained. Like a phantom, Klaus blinked briefly into view in front of the larger one, then disappeared again.

  “There!” The brute charged at where he had last seen the Shadow Heir—exactly as Klaus intended. Devastating slashes raked the man’s legs, and he collapsed to the ground, howling.

  The last guardsman, learning from his comrades’ mistakes, remained still and strained to hear the footsteps of his invisible opponent. With a smile, he made one sure powerful cut to his right. Kaia held her breath as the man’s smile turned into a frown. He put a hand to his gut, and it came away red.

  He crumpled to the manor floor as Klaus appeared behind him.

  Kaia looked up from the battle’s aftermath to the Conrad’s balcony, only to find that they had fled.

  “Just a distraction to cover their escape,” Klaus spat as he sheathed his sword. “The cowards.”

  Fear rose in Kaia as she lifted her gauntleted hands. “What’ll we do without the keys to manacles?”

  “And you don’t think I thought of that?” Klaus smirked as he produced a key ring from his pocket.

  Kaia smothered a coughing fit, trying to force the words out. “How did you…?”

  The Shadow Heir shrugged as he briskly crossed the room to her. “They were expecting me to attack right away, so I searched Conrad’s pockets instead. It just took a minute to scale the balcony.” He unlocked Kaia’s shackles and pulled the gauntlets from her stiff fingers.

  “The Heir of cleverness…” she breathed with ragged relief, her hands tingling with renewed sensation.

  “We’ll ask Everard if he can remove the enchantment from these,” Klaus hooked the shackles onto his belt and grabbed her hand. “Come on, let’s go before any more guards come running.”

  As Klaus and Kaia stepped out of the mansion into the cool night air, the Conrads’ alabaster stallions galloped by them in a blur towards the gate. Lord Conrad pulled up sharply at the end of the drive, the moonlight illuminating his face.

  “Before you go,” he called out toward them. “I’d like to remind Guardian Dashul that my offer stands.” He winked at her, and Kaia found herself wishing she had the strength to set his great mansion on fire. “And do be careful on the way home,” he added in his slimy voice. “The road can be quite dangerous, you know.”

  With a smirk, he kicked his mount into a gallop and disappeared into the night.

  Klaus snarled an ugly string of curses under his breath.

  Kaia tried to keep her eyes focused. “Dangerous…?”

  “He’s mocking us.” Klaus laced his fingers with hers and began to lead her across the lawn with Gus following closely at their heels. “What did he mean about an offer though?”

  Another coughing fit shook Kaia as she tried to explain. It sounded even more ridiculous coming out of her mouth.

  “Hmm….” Klaus glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “We’ll have to ask Fiola and Shad more about him when we get back.” He paused as he thought. “If he is Ariston’s ally, I doubt we’ve seen the last of him.”

  Kaia nodded. At the moment, it was difficult just putting one foot in front of the other, much less trying to out-strategize an oily noble.

  Nudging her with his nose, Gus whined sympathetically. We go home now.

  By the time they reached the tree-lined path out of the estate, the chills had returned, and she began to tremble. She almost fell, but Klaus caught her.

  “Earth below,” he mumbled before scooping her up like a small child.

  “No,” she protested, “Put me down. I can walk."

  “You’re falling behind.” He shifted her weight in his arms. “Is being carried so bad?”

  “It’d be just like you to drop me in the mud,” she whispered hoarsely.

  “I don’t see any suitable puddles nearby.” He laughed.

  Too tired to struggle, Kaia abandoned her protests. Still shaking, she leaned her head against his chest, his warmth helping to relieve her chills.

  He bowed his head and pressed his cheek against her forehead. “How’re you trembling when your forehead is burning up?”

  The rocking of his steps made her eyelids heavy again. “It’s called a fever.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll get you the draught.”

  Waiting outside the estate gat
es, the Dalteek whickered as they approached. Kaia greeted Sunflash with a small smile, but something still tickled her heavy head.

  “Did Conrad leave a note in my name?” She closed her eyes. “I was so worried you would think I was a traitor.”

  “Oh, Firefly.” He clutched her tighter to him. “I know you better than that.” The weighted words fell deliberately from his tongue, his steps slowing. “I’ve noticed your trouble with letters.”

  Boiling shame flooded Kaia, scalding her heart. Her eyes snapped open, and she pushed away from Klaus as she struggled to get down. “I can walk.”

  Klaus released her, and she took four steps to bury her burning face in Sunflash’s soft mane. For a moment the Heirs listened to the chorus of crickets gossiping with the crescent owls.

  Gus yipped and pawed at her leg. Do not be sad, my girl. You don’t need to be sad.

  A cough punctuated Kaia’s sigh. “I can write.” She tried to scrub the blush from her face with a sleeve. “It’s just difficult.”

  Klaus laced his fingers in hers, pulling her away from the huge mount. He looked into her face with strangely earnest eyes. “Firefly, I couldn’t care less if you’ve never written a letter in your life.” He tucked her side-braid behind her ear. “You’re enough just as you are.”

  An avalanche of gratitude shocked Kaia to her core, filling a void she had hidden so long, she had forgotten what wholeness might feel like. She nodded and looked away, but couldn’t order her feelings into the words that could capture this new sensation.

  Klaus looked up at Sunflash and squeezed her hands. “Now, I don’t think you’re in any condition to ride.”

  “But I have to,” she murmured, struggling to keep her eyes open.

  “No.” He led her to his roan Dalteek. “I don’t want you falling off your doe. Moonstreak is strong. He can bear both of us for now.”

  Klaus moved his hands to her waist to help her into Moonstreak’s saddle. Kaia’s head spun with the sudden motion, while the Shadow Heir fetched blanket and flask from Sunflash’s saddle. Kaia shivered and swayed in the saddle as he swung up behind her. He wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and held the flask to her lips. “Fiola said to drink all of it.”