Heritage: Book Three of the Grimoire Saga (6 page)

Before her, the statue of a woman towered halfway to the arched ceiling above. Her white marble face glistened as she stared through the skylights, her eyes nothing but a solid sheet with no detail.

Evelyn wiped her own eyes with a sleeve. “You’re back early.”

“What’s wrong, Evelyn?”

Her lip trembled. Her eyebrows arched upward. A dimple appeared in her cheek, as if she bit it to keep herself from crying.

“Aunt Aislynn’s dead,” she said.

Braeden’s shoulders sagged. The air left him in a rush, and for a moment, he couldn’t think. The last time he saw Aislynn, he nearly attacked the queen for trapping Kara and using her as bait to catch a muse in some half-brewed plan, nearly killing everyone involved. He hadn’t given Aislynn the time of day to explain herself and refused to even look her in the eye after he discovered what she’d done.

But...dead?

When he was a boy, Aislynn saved his life. She took him to Hillside and gave him a second chance at life. She even stood up for him in this very throne room when the other Bloods sentenced him to death. Had he been too unforgiving to someone who helped him so much in life?

He knelt next to Evelyn and sat on his heels, shoulders hunched. Only then did he notice a plaque below the statue’s feet:
Aislynn, last full Blood of Ayavel.

“Is this her memorial?” Braeden asked.

Evelyn nodded.

“What do you mean by ‘last full’—”

“I wasn’t given the bloodline naturally, and I am therefore not a full Blood. She’s the last of her bloodline. I’m a forgery.”

Braeden’s jaw tensed. He didn’t know what to say.

They sat in silence for a while. He watched her from the corner of his eye, never looking at her directly. Her hair fell around her, hiding her face. Streaks of dried tears crusted along her cheeks, dulling her skin’s reflective nature.

After a second, he cleared his throat. “I thought memorials weren’t supposed to go in the throne room. In Hillside, we have a park for Bloods’ memorial statues.”

A pang of regret tore through him. Braeden couldn’t say he was a part of Hillside anymore. Gavin disowned him and took his key to the kingdom when Braeden’s Stelian ancestry was discovered. Even though he’d spent twelve years in Hillside and grown up with Gavin as a brother, he was no longer a part of the Hillsidian world.

Evelyn frowned, snapping him from his thoughts. “It’s my kingdom, Stelian. If I want to honor my aunt’s memory in the throne room, I have every right to do it!”

Braeden tensed as he was reminded of one of the many reasons he disliked this girl, but he took a deep breath. She was obviously grieving. He needed to be forgiving and patient.

“I meant no offense, Evelyn. I was merely curious.”

She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, Braeden. I’m just—I—”

He caught her eye. “You’re hurting. It’s okay.”

Her lip trembled again. “Why would she leave me? I’m not ready for this, Braeden. Being awoken as the Blood—it hurt so much. I couldn’t walk for nearly a day afterward. I can sense the moods of my people. I can actually control them, make them do things they don’t want to do. I can command them, and they have to obey. I don’t want so much power!”

Braeden wanted to inform her it was far too late to back out of her responsibilities now that she’d taken the bloodline, but he kept silent.

Evelyn took a deep breath. “The drenowith killed my aunt. They took her from me too soon, before she could teach me. I just know it.”

“What makes you think so?”

She groaned. “Don’t be an idiot. It’s obvious! They led her to the Stele all those years ago and nearly got her killed in Carden’s dungeon—you know the story all too well. And a week or so back, when she tried to get her revenge on them by stealing some muse’s blood, they decided to end her once and for all. It’s the only thing that makes sense!”

Braeden couldn’t deny her logic. Aislynn tried to kill a muse named Adele and almost succeeded. Braeden didn’t have any theories of his own, and if anyone killed Kara, he would get revenge in the same way. For twelve years, Aislynn had been his mentor and, for the longest time, she was the only one alive who knew of his double life. But the moment she’d threatened Kara and used her as bait, he disowned her. He had to admit he would have killed her himself if she’d gone too far and taken Kara from him completely.

“The drenowith might be involved, but we can’t know for sure,” he finally admitted.

“Oh, I’m certain,” Evelyn spat.

“How?”

She shook her head. “There’s just no denying it, Braeden. What she did started a feud between the drenowith and the Ayavelian race. I’m not saying I’m proud of her choice, but I will never forgive the muses for taking her from me.”

“We already have a war on our hands, Evelyn. Don’t start another one with creatures as powerful as the drenowith.”

“I won’t. I’m not stupid. But I will never trust a drenowith again, nor will I let one live if I find it.”

Braeden sighed. He couldn’t blame her for that hatred, even if it wasn’t healthy.

A sob pricked his ear. Evelyn cradled her face in her hands, shoulders hunched and shaking. She cried into her palms, the dam apparently breaking in the middle of her throne room.

Braeden patted her back. “I shouldn’t have intruded. I’ll leave you alone.”

Instead of nodding or ignoring him completely, as he’d expected, Evelyn wrapped her arms around his torso. She burrowed her cheek into his chest and hugged him so tightly it hurt.

His voice caught in his throat. His shirt absorbed the young queen’s tears as she held onto him, apparently forgetting their years of mutual disdain. She trembled, the nails of her thin fingers digging through the fabric on his back.

Kara flashed across his mind. What would she have said if she walked in at this moment?

Unsure of the right thing to do, he continued patting Evelyn. She sobbed and leaned in closer. He sighed and slipped his arm around her, trying to imagine what Kara would want him to do.

He cleared his throat and let his mind wander back to Evelyn’s theory. Something about this story didn’t sit right with him. While he could believe Garrett would kill Aislynn out of revenge, he didn’t believe Aislynn would be so naïve as to expose herself. She would have stayed close to the kingdom, all the while knowing full well Garrett was out for blood.

“How did Aislynn die?” he asked.

Evelyn mumbled a response through his shirt.

“What?”

The queen lifted her chin enough to answer. “No one knows.”

“How is that possible?”

“Last I spoke to her, she was going to her room to rest. A few hours later, I woke up screaming and in the worst agony of my life. I didn’t even realize I was being awoken as the Blood until one of the generals mentioned it. They sent a small army to Aislynn’s room, but no one was there.”

“Has anyone else gone missing?”

Evelyn wiped her eyes. “General Krik. No one knows where he is, either. Some rumors say they were lovers, and something went wrong on a rendezvous, but that’s treasonous. If my aunt had a lover, he wouldn’t be secret. She would never have hidden such a thing from me.”

Braeden glanced at the floor and kept silent. There was plenty Evelyn’s aunt had kept from her. He had no idea how the girl could still have such faith in the dead queen.

“This doesn’t add up,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“Aislynn was smart. She wouldn’t have exposed herself to the drenowith after what she did. She wouldn’t have left the kingdom.”

“No one wanted her dead but the drenowith.”

“I’m sure Carden wanted her dead. There are plenty who would have killed her. It’s unwise to focus your hatred on the drenowith when this could be something else entirely. Your safety could be at risk.”

Evelyn sank back onto her heels, her eyes shifting out of focus.

Braeden couldn’t suppress the selfish thought to use this moment. Evelyn was a major player now. With her on his side, he might even get Kara back into the council. The Ayavelian girl simply had to get past her hatred of drenowith. If Garrett really had killed Aislynn, it would never happen. There was only one way to find out for sure.

Braeden ran a hand through his hair. “I’m only saying you shouldn’t assume this was the drenowith’s doing. I think you should speak with Garrett. With Kara’s influence, I think you can find out the truth.”

Evelyn’s eyes snapped to him. She frowned. “How dare you suggest I speak with one of those creatures as if he is capable of telling the truth! If he did it, he would lie.”

He shook his head. “The muses helped me more than once. Maybe if you spent some time with one, you’d realize how wrong you are about them. They care about life. About us. They saved me from Carden. They helped me save the Heirs after the Gala. They—”

“I’ve heard enough.” Evelyn shot to her feet and stormed toward the door.

“Evelyn, wait a minute! You’re angry, and—”

She hesitated by the exit, one hand on the open door. “No, my mind is crystal clear. I won’t be a pawn, Braeden.”

With that, Evelyn disappeared through the door, her blue dress swishing along the floor. Her footsteps disappeared the moment she passed into the hallway.

Braeden sighed and slumped back on his heels. She must have known he was trying to use her. Disgust bubbled in his gut, swirling with the shame of his selfishness. He might have been a prince, destined to rule the Stele one day, but he wasn’t a very good politician. His failed attempt at a political play just cost him the one ally he could have possibly found in this traitorous arena.

He forced himself to his feet. By default, he headed toward his office. He wandered out of the Ayavelian throne room and through the halls, but his mind raced in a different direction. He should visit Kara. Get away from Ayavel for a bit. Talk strategy. Compose a new game plan.

He laughed. He couldn’t even lie to himself. He didn’t want a new strategy. He wanted an escape, and Kara always brought him freedom. But she needed time to master her isen abilities, and he couldn’t interrupt her training. Not much could hurt Braeden, but Kara could kill him if she didn’t master herself. Her newfound power had no limits. And if she ever stole his soul—however accidentally—he didn’t think even he could fight her.

CHAPTER FIVE

THE COTTAGE

Rain battered Kara’s face, each drop hitting her skin like a needle as she zipped through the sky on the black dragon’s back. She squinted, trying to see through the gray haze of fog and thunder, but the wind stung her eyes and tore at her hair. Her dragon surveyed the mist around them, its white teeth face frozen in a toothy smile that always sent a shiver down her spine.

A white owl flew just ahead of them—Stone. Once they left the village, he’d shifted form and taken off without a word, though Kara still couldn’t figure out why he chose to be an owl. Maybe he just wanted to keep a low profile, or maybe he enjoyed the symbolism of wisdom. Kara grunted. Stone wasn’t narcissistic enough for that last one. Whatever his reason, he managed to keep up with the dragon. Only that mattered.

Stone pulled ahead, his white feathers shifting in the gusts of air. A crack of thunder shook the sky. Rain fell harder. Through the fog, the snowy tip of a mountain loomed suddenly into view. Crags broke away from the peak like spikes stuck into the rock, ready to tear open anything unlucky enough to fall on them. Pines blanketed the lower slopes, but everything beyond dissolved into the mist of this storm. Kara could barely see more than fifty feet on either side of her, and she had no idea where they were.

The white owl dove. The dragon plunged after it without waiting for an order from Kara to follow. Her stomach twisted. She clutched her beast tighter, wishing with all her might that they could just find the house already. But Stone banked around the mountain, and yet another came into view. He twisted around that as well, the dragon mere feet behind. One after another, the mountains zipped by as the three travelers sped through gaps in the peaks. Snow clung to the mountains, a melting blanket clinging to the biting chill of the high altitude. A shiver snaked its way through Kara’s body.

Finally, Stone dove again and aimed for a flat ledge at the tip of a mountain. As he flapped his wings to slow his landing, a tremor raced through his body. His torso stretched outward. His wings became arms. The white feathers receded into his hairline, leaving behind the white beard that reminded Kara of Renaissance actors. His feet brushed the stone slab just as the last of his claws disappeared. Without breaking his stride, he walked toward the mountain and brushed a bit of snow from the steep rock.

Kara breathed a sigh of relief and nudged the dragon down toward the ledge. It landed with a less than graceful
thump
, but Kara slipped off as soon as its feet touched the ground. She patted her mount’s neck, wishing it back into the Grimoire with the silent command she used on all her mounts. The black dragon flashed its white teeth and dissolved into black dust that drifted away on the next gust of wind.

Eager to be done with the rain, she ran to Stone’s side just as he finished wiping snow from a bit of the mountainside. She leaned in, only to see a small carving in the rock. The engraving reminded her of a star, with five spikes jutting from a central point. Each line rounded out to a sharp tip and curved such that it almost touched the one to its left.