Hereditary (28 page)

When we got home, I found my father waiting, which was unusual for the middle of the day, but he held a missive in his hand, and I assumed that the King had sent a message to him after our meeting. He nodded to Harbringer, and shook his head when he saw me, stepping up to touch the bandages on my arm.

“I can’t say I’m surprised that he gave you Harbringer. I don’t think anyone has managed to get into this much trouble under Read’s watch since the Revolts. And I know you were the one who set the Infirmary fire, I went to see it this morning, and it had
Beatrice
written all over it.”

I grimaced, and let him help me into the sitting room, where we sat down on the couch together and Harbringer moved to the window, taking a little mechanical bird, sleeping, out of his pocket.

“I don’t think I’ve ever made one that big before,” I said, thinking back to the fire.

“I’m not surprised, you must have been frightened.”

He touched my cheek, and then sighed, some of the tension draining from the broad set of his shoulders. “I’ve briefed the men. When Harbringer sends word, five of them will be sent to the game trail beyond the barracks to wait for you. Do you remember it?”

“Yes, I used it to walk to the Academy most mornings from Sparrow’s Settlement.”

“Alright then, I’m afraid I can’t arrange a regular group, not with the tasks they already have, but you will have five waiting whenever you need them. And you are not to go anywhere without Joseph, am I understood?”

“I already agreed to this—you think I’d lie to the King?”

“Perhaps. You’re involved in something big here, Bea, and I think you know it.”

I reached over to pat his knee, and Harbringer left the window.

“I’ve sent word to the Academy, and to the Black Barracks. Your guard should be waiting by the time we get there. Are you ready to go?”

I nodded and moved to stand, but my father caught my arm, an anxious look on his face as he turned to Harbringer.

“You have a reputation to uphold, Joseph. If anything happens to her, I don’t care how much the King favours you, I’ll use my ability and you’ll never even see it coming.”

“Noted.” Harbringer’s mouth quirked a little, and I think he enjoyed the prospect of someone beating him in a fight. 

My father turned back to me. “I need to leave again tonight, but Joseph will send me regular updates. I’ve had Gretal clear out one of the rooms on the second floor, it’s right below yours, so he will hear if there is any kind of struggle.”

Chapter Twenty

Terrible, Terrible Truth

Leaving my father was harder than it usually was, because this time there was a niggling feeling at the base of my skull, telling me that the danger of me never seeing him again grew with each day that passed. I kissed both of his cheeks and hobbled out the door, past the minimalist garden, and toward the Black Barracks.

Moving through the forest became too difficult with my crutches, and Harbringer ended up slinging me over his shoulder, which grew embarrassing when we reached the circle of horses awaiting us on the game trail. I recognised all of the men; Cody and Hayden, who seemed to be the youngest there, Harry and Gideon, both looking more like thieves than soldiers, and Philippe, dear Philippe. His aging face cracked into a grin as I was set onto my feet, and Gideon slapped his thigh, laughing so hard that it gave his horse a fright.

“Do my eyes deceive me, or is the Firecracker herself being carried through the woods like a wounded damsel in distress?” Philippe cackled delightedly.

“I
am
wounded, you oaf.” I threw a stick at him, which he batted aside easily enough, and then had to let Harbringer help me onto my horse, which had them laughing all over again. They waited for me to take the lead, which I did gladly, if only to present them my back.

“You know,” Philippe began conversationally, “ I started training that girl when she was
this
big, and so help us if we treated her any less of a man than the strongest brutes on our force.”

Harbringer chuckled. “I can imagine. She fights well, for a human.”

“That’ll be my doing, and her father’s o’course.”

I spurred my horse onwards, forcing them to hurry to catch up to me. There wasn’t any way I was going to drag out the procession if they were going to spend the whole time talking about me. By the time we finally reached the border, though, everyone was quiet, and I stopped the others just before we caught sight of the wasteland, knowing that I wasn’t going to be able to persuade them all to stay put when the enchantment hit. I also made Harbringer dismount, and grabbed his hand, dragging him forward. Just as I suspected, it was much harder to force him to the barrier than it had been with Cale.

“Dammit Harrow, let go, we need to go back.”

He could have just picked me up again and forced us to turn around, but I suspected that the way I ignored him had momentarily confused him, enough that I was able to tug him though the barrier. Once clear, the Synfee Empire appeared in all its splendour before us, and he immediately stopped resisting me. The usual rush of men came toward us, except that they were focused on Harbringer this time, and their swords were drawn. I quickly stepped in front of him, and they faltered, finally stopping just before us when Harbringer didn’t seem inclined to pull out any of his own weapons in self-defence. Not that he needed to.

“Grenlow,” I said, seeking the man out.

He stepped forward, sheathing his sword. “Lady Beatrice, why have you brought the Power Thief? His Majesty will not be pleased.”

“Should I leave then?”

Grenlow frowned, as I knew he would, and then finally spun around.

“Please follow.”

Harbringer shot me a look, and we walked after the general, who led us to the castle gates this time, and held his hand out for us to wait as he slipped inside. The men seemed uneasy again when he disappeared, a tension that doubled when the King himself appeared. Nareon barely paid Harbringer any attention, however. He strode straight to me, admonished his guards for making me wait at the gate, and then finally paused to look me over.

“Speak, Spitfire, and make it quick.”

I saw the rage flashing in those grey eyes, and put a hand on his arm to calm him.

“Not if you’re going to get angry. Remember what happened last time?”

His frown deepened, and he turned to Grenlow. “Fetch a Healer. Now,” he snapped.

Grenlow ran off, and Nareon glanced at Harbringer. “You brought protection again, I see.”

If he recognised Harbringer, it didn’t show in his face, and Harbringer himself was cold and detached, his own expression completely devoid of sentiment, his fists clenched loosely by his sides.

“Interesting choice,” muttered Nareon, before looking back to me, “you knew that I wouldn’t be able to send him away, I suppose?”

“Er, right.”

He smiled, catching my lie, and began to gently lead me to the doors of the fountain room, the smile slowly fading as I hobbled along. I glanced behind me, to make sure that Harbringer was following.

“It was a man called Davery, and a woman, Enon.”

Nareon paused, flicked a look to one of the men at his side, who nodded and ran back towards the gate, and then he continued guiding me forward, silent. Just as I settled into a bench in the fountain room, Grenlow marched through the doors with a harried-looking woman in tow. She saw the King, faltered, and would have fallen over, if Grenlow hadn’t caught her arm.

“Y-your Highness,” she muttered, puling out of Grenlow’s grip to drop to her knees.

“Do something, woman—the sight of these bandages displeases me.”

She glanced at me, nodded hurriedly and scampered to my side. I winced at the harsh order, touching her arm lightly.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

She glanced up briefly, but just as quickly looked away from me and set her hands on my side. After a few moments, a tingling spread out along my rib cage, spreading upward to my shoulder, and slithering down my arm. The feeling intensified until it became painful, and then it was gone, and she moved to my leg, needing to spend longer on the arrow-wound. When she was finished, she backed immediately away from me, and I caught sight of her face. She looked about to faint, her previously golden countenance now held a faint greyish pallor, and her shoulders sagged inward.

I reached up and began to unwind the bandages around my arm and shoulder, revealing the skin beneath, which was smooth and tanned, just as it had always been. I removed the one on my leg as well, and jumped up, feeling no twinge of pain whatsoever.

“Oh my!”

I ran over to the woman, grasping her hands.

“Nareon, she’s exhausted, she’s about to collapse,” I said, feeling how she held onto my hands as if they were the only thing keeping her upright.

He looked at the woman a little distastefully, but I continued to implore him, until he finally gestured at Grenlow to take her to lie down and bring her food. I heard Harbringer’s voice in my head then.

You have a lot of influence over him. I wasn’t expecting that
.

I turned to look at him briefly, but whatever I might have answered was forgotten, as a soldier burst into the room breathlessly.

“Your Highness. The prisoners have been taken to the dungeons.”

Nareon smiled, the vicious glint in his eye making me fall back a step. He spun immediately, moving toward the door at the other end of the room, and then paused, moving back to me, taking my chin in his hand.

“Drop your glamor, Spitfire, take what you need for now, Grenlow will look after you until I’m back.”

I hesitated, aware of the people in the room. The man still trying to catch his breath by the door, Harbringer…

A flood of compulsion filled me, and my knees buckled. His arm was around me instantly, holding me up, and I felt my glamor slip away. The world became a kaleidoscope of colour and feeling, and I grasped the sides of his face, drawing his energy to me. His desire was scorching, it sizzled my senses as his hands tightened, drawing me off the ground, his kiss becoming bruising. I drank deeply, my head spinning at the rush of life, the heady taste of his power. And then, miraculously, I pushed out of his arms, my eyes wide.

“There… was… you…” I struggled to contain my thoughts, crippled momentarily by the violence of my need, and watched as Nareon’s face transformed.

The feral glint faded from his eyes, and he grinned. I grabbed at my throat, feeling as if it were on fire.

“It isn’t just energy!” My words ended on a cry of pain, and I became achingly aware of another, more human heartbeat in the room.

“Oh, Bea. You have much to learn.” He glided forward, touched my cheek, and his compulsion filled me, gently coaxing my glamor back into place.

He kissed me lightly, and then turned and swept from the room. I fell to the ground, the energy vibrating within me, the need that I had cut off so abruptly burning in my throat. It was painful, and for a few frightening moments, it felt as if my glamor hadn’t returned at all. Harbringer was at my side the moment Nareon disappeared, drawing me to my feet, grabbing my face.

“Calm down,” he whispered. “Remember to breathe, Harrow.”

I blinked, wondering why it was so hard to focus on his face, and then realised that the darkness was filling my head to overflowing. I wrenched away from him, cursing.

This is bad. This is very bad
, I thought to myself.

Your thoughts are a mess.
Harbringer’s presence filled my head.
You need to talk to me
.

The push, it’s not my power, it’s Nareon’s
.

He gave you the death ability?

Maybe, or his energy made it more powerful. My push used to be the Force. The world would darken, storm clouds would gather, and once, I saw lightening. It still does it sometimes, but the death… that’s because of Nareon’s energy. I think he meant to do it.

Grenlow entered the room then, and I focused on him, the darkness roiling up to crash against my skull even though I had just fed. If anything it was worse, with Nareon’s powerful energy spurring it on. Grenlow paused, his eyes going wide, and I wondered if he would turn and run away. I put my hand out, calling on the wind to push him forward. He stumbled a few steps, and the darkness changed, became something less frightening, something that I hadn’t felt for a long time. Instead of my head blackening, it was the world around me that changed. The shadows lengthened, the light retreated, and a fine mist of rain began to splatter.

Grenlow took a step back, but I forced him forward again, so that he stumbled, and finally fell at my feet.

“Please,” he whispered. “I can’t fight Force.”

Harbringer touched my shoulder and I spun, almost lashing out at him as well.

“Poor Siren,” he muttered, reached out to drag me against him.

He didn’t kiss me, or try to restrain me, two things that I had come to expect on a regular basis from people. Instead, he only held me, his hands trailing down my spine until I felt the world brighten again. I sighed, my hands moving to rest against his chest, and he began to stroke my hair, passing his hands through its gentle waves. When he released me, the push had dissipated, and I was left with only the wonderfully strong energy flowing through me. I turned to Grenlow, throwing him an apologetic glance.

“Can you tell me something, General?”

“I’ll do my best, Lady Beatrice.” He was back to his formal self, now that my frightening episode was over.

“Who else has taken Nareon’s energy?”

“The King is selective.”

“Who?”

He sighed, looking toward the door. “Just you, Lady.”

I frowned. “Why just me?”

“When we kill, a person’s full power is transferred directly to us. When we only feed off the energy of another synfee, we can temporarily display some of their characteristics, and if the abilities of that person are strong enough, some of their influence can also be transferred.”