Odriel's Heirs Page 3

  But Jago was missing, and she had left her real brothers behind.

  Kaia clenched her fists and rode on, spinning her memories about her like a cocoon to keep the loneliness at bay, but still longing for her father’s steady strength, Jago's deep laugh, or even Klaus' taunts to fill the maddening silence. She blew out another long breath. Soon, they would be reunited, Kaia told herself as she chewed on her chapped lips. Klaus would say something insulting, and her father might be cross at first, but she would tell him about the Lost in Arimoke, and then he would be proud. She would tell him how far she had traveled, and he would realize she was ready to fight alongside him as the Dragon Heir he had trained her to be. Then together, there wasn't an evil known to man that couldn't be overcome by three Heirs.

  Or so she hoped.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Butterdelf

  On the fifth day, Kaia left the towering Naerami peaks behind and approached the neat little hamlet of Butterdelf on a warm and overcast evening. The sinking sun painted the low clouds deep shades of persimmon and rose. Looking down upon the cozy, stone cottages from a nearby hill, Kaia brought Thornbite to a sudden halt. Her stomach flipped at the town’s resemblance to Arimoke. She could almost feel the rough hands of the schoolboys grinding her face into the dirt. She shifted in the saddle, her sore backside twinging in protest.

  She leaned her head back towards the sky and groaned. “I hate these little towns.”

  Gus bark-howled softly in agreement. We can do this.

  Kaia rolled her neck from side to side. “It’s been almost a week since we got the letter, so they probably won’t even be here.”

  The ragehound snorted and shook his head. You’re stalling.

  “Ok, ok.” She edged Thornbite forward. “We’ll start at the inn. Someone must have seen them.”

  Less than an hour later, Kaia had almost reached the first houses when a diminutive black cat dashed out of the grass and alighted nimbly on Thornbite’s haunches. Gus’ head swiveled sharply, and Kaia pulled the mule to a stop, turning in the saddle. “What—”

  “Not exactly who I was hoping for, but I’ll take it,” the cat said in a cool, velvety voice. His eyes glowed sapphire in his jet-black face.

  Recognition flickered in Kaia’s wide eyes. You never forgot a talking cat, but it had been nearly a decade since she’d last seen him. “You’re Everard’s cat.”

  Eighty years ago, Shad had been a young man, until he tried to steal precious relics from the ill-tempered magus. As punishment, Everard had sentenced him to 100 years as a pet cat, spy, and servant.

  “Shadmundar, right?”

  “Yes, yes.” The cat’s ears twitched impatiently. “If we could skip the niceties, I’m in a bit of a rush.”

  Gus put his front paws up on Thornbite’s flank to get a better look at the creature.

  Shadmundar’s black nose wrinkled. “That flame resist charm smells like singed fur.” He lifted his chin. “Not Everard’s best work.”

  The ragehound sat back on his haunches with a low whine.

  Kaia looked back up the road towards the town and nudged Thornbite forward. “Is Everard here then? Or my father and Klaus?”

  “No, they are not.” The cat’s tail flicked back and forth. “And I would not go into this town if I were you.”

  Kaia twisted back to him.

  “As far as I know, Everard is still in the south, looking for Jago.” He turned his face, not meeting her gaze. “But I was serving as a guide for your father and Klaus when they were captured here four days ago.”

  “C…captured?” Nausea bubbled in Kaia’s stomach. “But that’s impossible!”

  The cat’s ears flattened. “There’s no need to shout, I’m right here.”

  Kaia resisted the urge to swat the cat from the back of the mule. Her heart thumped in her chest as she barked out panicked questions. “How? By who? Where are they now? Are they ok?”

  “They were poisoned at the inn. Ariston is holding them in the dungeons of Butterdelf Castle, ten miles north of here.” Shad examined his claws. “To what end, I don’t know, but last I heard, they were alive.” His eyes flicked to her, solemn and steady. “I’ve tried to get a message to Everard, but most of the people here are loyal to Ariston.” He paused. “So it seems Odriel has sent me the Dragon hatchling in his stead.”

  Kaia’s chest heaved as if she had run a mile. Her hands felt frozen on the reins and her legs stiff. The fireflies blinking lazily in the long grass stood in stark contrast to the panicked buzzing filling her ears. “Ariston is the one that can raise the dead, right?”

  Shadmundar nodded. “They say he has already raised his corpse army.” His whiskers twitched. “But he is a poor shepherd, and his flock terrorizes the countryside. Though he blames it on Nifras, of course, and then, in turn, the Heirs for not protecting the people.” The cat was so matter-of-fact, he could have been discussing the weather.

  Kaia rubbed her forehead. “They attacked Arimoke.”

  The cat’s eyes narrowed. “That doesn’t sound like a coincidence.” He cocked his head. “But you handled it, I hope?”

  She nodded. “There were only a dozen or so.”

  He sighed. “Well, I suppose that’s better than no experience at all.” Shadmundar looked towards the west, where the sunset was already fading to shadow. “But we must hurry. If we move quickly, we can reach the castle while the moon is high.”

  Kaia fumbled with Thornbite's reins, her heart jumping nervously. “And once we get there? What then?”

  “Then, little dragon,” Shadmundar purred, “we'll see just how well your father taught you.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Rescue

  They reached the old castle just as the crescent moon peeked through the spindly fingers of the tree branches. Kaia dismounted as she studied the structure. The castle stood as a simple, tall rectangle of stone with two short chimneys poking out of the crown like ears. A crumbling stone wall, perhaps thrice Kaia’s height, surrounded the building. Kaia breathed a silent sigh of relief—much too small to contain an army. Even so, it was a castle, and she was just one girl. Not even Bram was here to watch her back this time. Her stomach twisted in a painful knot.

  “So, what’s the plan?” she whispered, consciously trying to keep her voice steady.

  Shadmundar looked at her from his perch in Thornbite’s saddle bag. “Find Tam and Klaus and free them.”

  She snorted. “You say that like it’s child’s play.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Well, considering you are a child, we best hope so.”

  She stuck her tongue out at him.

  Shad considered the castle. “Most of Ariston’s followers are deluded simpletons, so try not to kill the idiots, but don’t underestimate the Lost.” His ears flicked. “When a body is raised, the darkest part of that person’s soul is also raised to inhabit it.” Every hair on Kaia’s body rose to attention. “And keep the dog close. Klaus and Tam will be too weak to protect themselves if the Dragon’s Rage seizes you.”

  If possible, Kaia tensed even more. The last time the rage took her had been only months before, when Bram had accidentally slammed Layf in the neck during a sparring match. For a moment, Kaia had thought Layf’s neck was broken, and she had snapped. Luckily, Gus had been there.

  Shad cut into her thoughts. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

  Kaia shook her head in annoyance. “Thanks for the encouragement, Shad.”

  She gripped the hilt of her sword and took a step forward. Everything depended on her. She took a deep breath. Courage, she thought to herself, remembering her father’s words. The first battle is in your head.

  She jerked her head at the cat. “See you soon.” She clicked her tongue softly. “Come on, Gus.”

  Girl and hound crept through the trees to the west wall. Staying low to the ground, she silently crossed from the cover of the wood to the shadow of the wall. The aged, crumbling stone was easy to scale compared to some of the rock faces on
her mountain at home. Gus sat patiently by the wall as Kaia scrambled up and over the top. She edged a short way down the other side before impatiently jumping to the ground, only to find herself crouched at the feet of two guards.

  The first guard's eyes widened just before Kaia slammed her elbow into his jaw. While the first guard collapsed, the second swung his oversized broad sword at her head, but the swipe looked almost sluggish to Kaia as she ducked beneath it and countered with a low kick. Already off balance from his clumsy attack, the guard fell heavily onto his back. Her boot to his temple left him unconscious on the castle stones.

  Kaia straightened in time to hear the gatehouse guard cry for help. Cursing her lack of stealth, she ran to the gate, drawing her sword as she crossed the courtyard. Instead of holding his post, the gate guard fled to the stables, and Kaia felt a pang of pity. Layf could put up more of a fight than this.

  Lights flickered through the castle as she cut through the gate's iron lock with an intense blue flame. Flinging it open, she let out a low whistle, and Gus bounded through the gap to meet her as if it were a game. Giving him a pat, she turned to the castle; a dozen men streamed out with lanterns and candles. A handful rushed toward the stables while the remaining rushed her with swords held high.

  Now, she thought, it’s time to flash. She widened her stance and let flames engulf her blade. Bram had once said that she reminded him of a demon when her sword blazed, and the very sight of the flames filled her with a glow of pride. As the flickering light illuminated the fearful faces of her attackers, she returned a smug smile. The spectacle was more ostentatious than dangerous, but only Kaia and her father knew that.

  With a yell, the first man charged her straight on. Kaia knocked his blade to the side and smashed her hilt into the side of his head. Just as the first fell, the next man ran at her. Kaia parried his thrust, and the blade flew into the darkness. With a slash to his strong arm, Kaia ensured he couldn’t pick it up again. The third tried to chop at her as if he were splitting a log. Kaia sidestepped him, and the oaf managed to bury the blade in the soft earth beside him. Her jump-kick connected with his jaw, snapping his face up and knocking him on his back. Whining like a beaten dog, he scrambled towards the stables without even trying to recover his weapon.

  The last three rushed her simultaneously from all sides. As they drew close, she extinguished the bright flame of her sword. Engulfed in blackness, the men stumbled about, bleating and flailing like lost sheep.

  Although her own night vision was spotty, Kaia was ready. She shoved one of the brutes into his comrade. Thinking they had found their prey, the pair attacked each other, and one cried out in pain.

  “Odriel’s Teeth! Out of the way!” the other cursed.

  The last guard managed to trip over poor Gus, his weapon landing on the grass with a soft thud. Kaia used the pommel of her blade to quietly dispatch the inept trio before they could injure themselves any further.

  A shout and an indignant bray sounded from the stables, but drumming hoofbeats drew her eyes turned towards the open gate, announcing the hasty departure of the remaining guards. Before she could catch her breath, the shuffle of many uneven footsteps approached through the darkness from the rear of the castle. Gus whined and pawed at her leg, but the smell of rotting humanity had already reached her—the nauseating stench of an open grave.

  In a desperate last effort to stop her, they had released the Lost.

  Adrenaline sung through her limbs as she allowed her sword to flame again and illuminate the yard. Not thirty yards distant, a score of corpses stumbled towards her with jerky, involuntary movements. They looked almost identical to the dead she had dispatched in the Arimoke: ashen skin, frayed flesh, dirty rags, and empty black eye sockets.

  She released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Not so many—she could handle this. The flame encircling her blade grew until it resembled a small tornado, its crackling drowning out the low keening of the Lost. Shad had said the things were evil, but they showed no sign of intelligence. As the hot vortex of flame before her grew to the size of a small house, it still gave them no pause. She let the shambling horde of Lost come within twenty paces before she swung the sword, whipping the cyclone blaze into their midst. A high-pitched wail rang through the air as the hungry flames consumed their flesh faster than dry tinder, the scorching fangs snapping zealously.

  Kaia took it in with short breaths and a thumping heart. Odriel has indeed blessed the Dragon Heir, she thought.

  Within seconds, the bodies of the Lost crumbled to dust, and the fire receded. For the first time in her young life, Kaia felt a grave kinship with her ancestor.

  Gus nipped at her shirt, breaking her trance. The others must be inside. Move!

  Glancing up at the looming tower, Kaia broke into a sprint, bursting through the open castle door with Gus close at her heels. The flame from her sword cast a flickering shadow against the mossy stone walls.

  She passed through a low entryway into what she supposed was the great hall. Perhaps, in its time, it had been grand, but now it held only a few scattered chairs and a small table. The light danced along on the walls, illuminating two staircases in the corners of the room leading higher into the castle. She dismissed these. In the stories, the prisoners were held in the dungeons, and the dungeons were below the castle. Weren’t they?

  She contemplated calling out to her father and Klaus, but the thought of attracting further trouble kept her silent. Meanwhile, Gus bustled around the room, his nose snuffling along the floor. He came to a stop in front of a tapestry that seemed out of place in the barren hall.

  He looked at Kaia and whined. Here.

  The tapestry depicted the original confrontation of the three heirs and Nifras—three beacons of light facing a monstrous demon. Although frayed, the moss and age that plagued the rest of the wall had spared it. Moving the cloth aside with a finger, Kaia discovered a hidden staircase plunging down into the dark. A miasma of decay emanated from the chilled air below.

  “Stay behind me, Gussy,” she whispered, her voice wavering. She wiped her brow and inhaled again. This smell of rot was different from her Lost encounter—lighter, more natural. She blew out the stink and bent her head to venture down the cramped passage. Her left hand trailed along the inner wall to balance her on the uneven steps while she held her glowing sword before her. When she came to the last step, she found a chubby guard in front of a tiny gated cell.

  He nervously wiped sweat from his eyes, brandishing his shaking sword in front of him. “D-don’t come any c-closer.”

  “Skies above,” Kaia swore in exasperation. She had faced more ferocious barn cats. With two steps, she knocked his weapon aside and delivered an uppercut to his jaw with the pommel of her blade. He collapsed with a thump.

  “It’s… about… time,” the cell’s prisoner wheezed.

  Kaia didn’t need to see him to recognize his voice. She stepped over the incapacitated guard and approached the cell—little more than a hole in the wall.

  “I can’t believe you let these fools kidnap you,” Kaia taunted, grinning as she melted the lock and opened the door. “The cunning Shadow Heir was tricked.” She lifted her light and immediately regretted her words.

  They had shaved Klaus’ head to the scalp and chained him to ceiling, arms stretched up so high that he could only stand on his toes. Each foot was chained to a heavy ball, and the manacle had rubbed his skin raw at the ankle. Blood stained his tattered clothes, a swollen purple bruise dominated the whole left side of his face, and a deep slash cut across his right eyebrow.

  Gus whined beside her. Oh no.

  Outrage choked Kaia’s chest. “Who did this to you?” Surely not that harmless halfwit outside the cell. She sheathed her sword and knelt. Extending an index finger, she produced a fine blue stream of fire to delicately cut through the manacles without burning his raw flesh.

  “Mogens,” he rasped, lifting his head with a weak grimace. “You’d know if you saw him.�
� He erupted in a spasm of coughing, and his hazel eyes glazed with fatigue. The top of Kaia’s head only reached his jaw, so she had to step on one of the balls to reach his wrists. She could hear him wheeze with every breath.

  Gus nuzzled his leg. Hold on.

  “It’s okay, Gus,” Kaia reassured him breathlessly. Klaus’ left hand fell to his side like a broken wing. She switched to work on his right. “Do you know where my father is?” She tried to keep her voice steady, but it shook in spite of her.

  “West Wing,” he murmured. As the final manacle broke, Klaus collapsed against her shoulder, and she staggered under his weight. Heirs were nearly twice as strong as the average man, so she could carry him if she had to, but it would leave them vulnerable to attack. After seeing the work of this Mogens character, she didn’t want to take that risk.

  “Can you walk?”

  He raised his battered head and managed a few steps before stumbling and catching himself on the wall. Kaia blanched at the sight of the ugly gashes that crisscrossed his back, crimson lines across his bronze skin.

  Klaus winced. "A little help here, Firefly."

  She rolled her eyes and hoisted one of his arms over her shoulders before unceremoniously dragging him out of the cell and up the stairs.

  “Hey, come on, easy!” he protested.

  Kaia pushed the tapestry to the side as she half-carried him into the great hall. “You know I hate that nickn—"

  A sneering rasp echoed in the dank chamber. “I was so hoping it would be you.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Mogens

  Klaus swore darkly, and Gus barked with a wild fury she had never heard from the gentle dog before. Kaia looked up, and a part of her died.

  Her father struggled to lift his head, peering at her through the slit of his left eye. The right was missing. Kaia’s stomach churned, and bile rose in her throat. Blood gushed from countless, oddly patterned gashes. With a start, Kaia realized words had been etched into his flesh with a knife. Where his fingers and toes should have been, only nubs remaining, and his right knee was bending the wrong way. His left ear was missing while the other hung by a strand and his face was so swollen it looked disfigured. In all respects, he was unrecognizable... to anyone, that is, but his child.