Heritage: Book One of the Gairden Chronicles (21 page)

One turned to look up the stairs. Aidan darted behind the wall and slunk back to his room. Behind him, heavy footfalls sounded on the stairs.

“Vagrants,” he whispered to Daniel as he shut and locked the door behind him. Daniel leaped from his bed and hastily dressed. Aidan dressed just as hastily, hopping around as he struggled with one boot.

“Where can we escape?” Daniel croaked.

Aidan pulled hard on the window, but it wouldn’t budge. Footsteps reached their door and halted. Aidan stepped back and swung Heritage at the window, shattering it. Snow gusted in, stinging his face. He used the sword to wipe away loose fragments of glass as he motioned for Daniel to crawl through. From outside the door came a deep bellow, and a moment later, the door shuddered with a heavy thud.

Aidan crawled through the window and scrambled down the icy slanted roof to the ground, moving to follow Daniel’s running form into the night. He heard their door shatter with a loud crash. He looked back and saw one of the creatures lean out of the window, its skull twisting at unnatural angles as it searched for them. It spotted the escaping duo and roared. The wind howled in reply.

“Where are we going?” Aidan shouted.

Daniel pointed straight ahead at a large expanse of trees barely visible in the blinding snowfall. They staggered into the forest and stopped to catch their breath. Aidan drew a few deep gulps of air and looked back at the inn. “I don’t see anything,” he gasped.

“Maybe we lost them,” Daniel wheezed.

Straightening, Aidan looked around warily. Shadows, bent and twisted like the trees they belonged to, seemed to seep forward. Soft laughter whispered through the branches, audible even over the wind. Aidan drew Heritage as his eyes darted about. Something moved against a thick trunk several paces away. The shadows
were
sliding toward them. They detached from the trees and glided along the ground, inching closer to their trapped prey. The laughter grew louder, dwarfing the howl of the wind, as the shadows drew closer.

Daniel whipped his dagger out of its sheath and stood beside Aidan.

Aidan gasped as the creatures continued to close in. “I’ve seen these shadows before.”

“Where?”

Aidan swallowed. He remembered them crawling on top of him when he was unable to move, pouring down his throat and nostrils, suffocating him, choking him...

“In a nightmare.”

Daniel gritted his teeth. “Dream shadows? At this point, I’m willing to believe anything. How did you kill them?”

“I couldn’t.”

The shadows banded together, knitting into one enormous spread. The soft laughter rose in pitch as the bulk flowed around the trees like water, surrounding them. Daniel shouted and flipped a dagger into the amorphous mass. A tendril shot out and snatched the knife in mid-flight and sucked it into its core.

“Try magic!” Daniel shouted hoarsely.

“No light!” Aidan shouted back.

The shadow was almost touching their feet. Soon, neither would have any room to move at all. Suddenly the shadow beast let out an ear-splitting shriek. It slithered back a few paces, its wispy tendrils twisting like ebony serpents as plumes of smoke rose from its mass.

“What did you do?” Daniel asked.

Another bolt of pure-fire whizzed through the branches and lanced the creature. It gave a hoarse, rumbling moan as a third bolt streaked toward it. It stiffened, absorbing the attack, then continued to move toward them.

“It fears fire!” came a shout from their left, and Aidan saw Christine and her brother charge into sight on horseback, each holding a torch. Instantly recalling how the shadows had attacked first in his nightmare like dogs attacking a slab of meat, Aidan began to kindle from Christine’s torch. Then he heard his lamp clink against his armor, cursed himself for a fool, and kindled from the lamp instead and shot his own bursts of pure-fire at the branches all around him. Magical flames cut through the wetness of the snow and ice to set wood aflame. Christine shifted her focus as well, aiming high at the trees to spread the fire. The shadow creature drew in on itself as if trying to avoid notice, but the fire was spreading rapidly. It shrieked as flames licked its fringes and streaked through its form.

Aidan advanced, hurling ball after ball of pure-fire. It howled one last time and vanished, leaving behind curling wisps of darkness. As one, Aidan and Christine cut off their spells. Daniel and Aidan burst through the trees and looked around frantically for their rescuers.

“Thomas!” Christine shouted as she galloped toward them.

Daniel turned a confused look on Aidan.

“Just go with it,” he said.

The siblings came to a halt beside them, their horses pawing at the ground and throwing their heads at the scent of smoke.

“Hey, stranger,” Christine said as Aidan scrabbled up behind her. “Going my way?”

Chapter 19

Shelter from the Storm

A
IDAN CRANED HIS NECK
over his shoulder as the horses pounded through the night, expecting to see vagrants or shadows rushing toward them like a flood of darkness, but the snowstorm shrouded the road.

“What are you looking for?” Christine shouted over the wind.

“Before you found us, a pack of creatures tried to ambush us at the inn,” he shouted in reply.

“What kind of creatures?”

“You probably wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

She laughed. “I think you owe me more credit.”

“True enough. What was that shadow creature?”

“I’ll explain soon,” she shouted. “Right now we need to find shelter.”

Garrett’s horse caught up and galloped beside them. Aidan glanced at Daniel. He swayed on the saddle behind Garrett, his hands loosely wrapped around the other man’s waist. His eyes weren’t open.

“I don’t suppose you know of anywhere close?” Aidan asked.

As Christine started to reply, Daniel toppled from his saddle.

“Stop!” Aidan cried.

Christine reined in her horse, kicking up snow. Garrett had already wheeled around. Aidan looked around frantically.

—Behind you and to your left.

Aidan looked and saw Daniel lying face down. Snowflakes swarmed over him like flies to meat. Aidan scrambled from his saddle and ran to his friend. Garrett appeared and helped Aidan hoist Daniel back onto his horse, then climbed up behind him and covered Daniel’s front with his cloak while Aidan drew light from the torches and wrapped Daniel in a heat bubble.

“He’s sick,” Aidan shouted, climbing behind Christine. “We need to get him to shelter.”

Shielding his eyes, Garrett pointed north with his free hand.

“Tarion should be about a league from here.”

“Let’s go,” Aidan said.

They rode as hard as the storm would allow. The snow was growing deeper. Their horses slowed and picked their way up and down hills. Aidan watched Daniel worriedly as they moved. He was slumped forward; only Garrett’s hand wrapped around his middle kept him from spilling to the ground again. As they rode, the sky began to lighten.

As they crested one rise, Aidan saw faint squares of light spread out below. Tarion, the second largest city in Torel. They hurried down and approached the city’s gate. In a tower above the gate, two Wardsmen glanced down before ducking away. The gate opened.

“Our friend is ill,” Garrett explained as the Wardsmen greeted them. Aidan clutched his hood to hold it in place against the wind. “The Fisherman’s Pond has vacancy,” a Wardsman shouted.

He pointed and started to give directions.

“We know the place,” Garrett said. “Thank you.”

The Wardsmen nodded and hurried to close the gate and return to the warmth of the gatehouse.

Christine dug her boots into her horse’s flanks and set off after Garrett, who was already trotting through the gate. Aidan looked around. Thick layers of ice and snow coated tiled rooftops. Their horses kicked up snow as they went along, revealing patches of smooth, paved road that the snow buried almost as soon as they passed. The buildings were made of wood and stone, evidence of stout Darinian craftsmanship. Riding close to one, Aidan glanced at a parchment flapping in the wind and drew his hood tighter. The parchment showed his face, mouth curled in a snarl and eyebrows drawn down. Below the menacing portrait was a very large number.

Rewards,
he thought.
They’re looking for me.
Heritage did not respond.

They came to a stable set next to a wide, brightly lit building. Even before the party had dismounted, two stable hands came running up. Aidan and Garrett carefully lifted Daniel from the saddle, each slinging one of his arms over their shoulders. Garrett tipped the workers and led the party through the door of the Fisherman’s Pond.

Aidan found the atmosphere far more promising than the Hornet’s Nest. A broad, white-washed stone fireplace was carved into the tanned granite wall at the end of the common room. Snapping flames emitted a warm glow. Chairs adorned the spacious room. A portly woman with gray hair pulled into a tight bun polished mugs behind the bar as they approached.

“Welcome to the Fisherman’s...” She blinked and leaned forward, squinting, then set down the glass and beamed. “The Lady hold me close, is that you, Christine?” She rushed out from behind the counter.

“Hello, Martha,” Christine said. The last syllable was a grunt; the larger woman had wrapped meaty arms around her in a bear hug. Aidan instantly took a liking to her. Her voice boomed but was motherly at the same time. That, as well as her bear-like size, reminded him of Helda.

“So sorry, dear,” Martha said before turning to crush Garrett. “It’s been ages, you two.” Noticing Daniel, her cheery smile abruptly vanished. “The Lord of Midnight’s got his claws in that one. We’ve four rooms upstairs. Get him up there. I’ll send after a healer.”

—You will tend to him.

Aidan blinked.
Me? I don’t know anything about healing.
That was not entirely true, he amended, thinking back to the night he had broken the stained-glass window. Tyrnen and his mother had taught him the basics, just enough to heal minor wounds on the battlefield should a healer not be present. Daniel’s sickness was much worse than a cut. His face was ashen, and he shivered almost hard enough to pull Aidan and Garrett to the floor.

—I will guide you,
Heritage said.
Call off the healer.

All right...

“We won’t need a healer,” Aidan said.

Christine, Martha, and Garrett looked at him in surprise. Keeping his head low, Aidan continued, “I can look after him.”

“Are you a Touched, then?” Martha asked, trying rather obviously to peer beneath his hood.

“How much do we owe you?” Garrett asked, grabbing Martha’s attention.

“Nothing at all,” the innkeeper said, and waved off the siblings’ protests. “I won’t hear another word about it. Now get your friend upstairs.”

They guided Daniel into a room and eased him onto a bed. Aidan sat beside Daniel while Christine and Garrett watched from behind him.

What do I do first?

—Ask them to leave. They might see the sword. You will need it.

Clearing his throat, he turned to the siblings. “Would you give me a few minutes?”

Garrett glanced at Christine, but his sister nodded. “We’ll be right outside,” she said. The door closed behind them.

—Grip the hilt of the sword and touch Daniel with your other hand.

He complied.

—You’ll need all the light stored up in that necklace of yours.

Aidan pulled the lamp out from underneath his shirt.

—Kindle the light, but keep a grip on it.

He did as she asked then sat waiting. Several moments passed.

—Good. Now, one hand on the sword, one on your friend.

Again, he did as he asked. “What now?” he asked—and gasped as a surge of energy flooded through him and poured from his hand and into the Eye, which bloomed a fiery pink like the Lady’s first light. Once again he was overwhelmed by a presence, but not his grandfather’s. The hand that guided his was soft, small, and smelled of freshly cut flowers. Under his hand, he felt Daniel’s skin grow cool. He watched in amazement as Daniel’s breathing evened out and lost its grating hoarseness.

The energy cut off. Gasping, he rocked on his heels. The sensation had been incredible. At first, it had been like wielding
Ordine’kel:
techniques he had never even known or thought of were suddenly as simple as breathing. But unlike after releasing
’kel,
he held a glimmer of understanding after the fact. He had drawn light, passed it to Heritage, and
the sword
had kindled. More astonishing was that he mostly understood what it had done. He didn’t think he could do it again without another lesson— maybe two—but the basics were clear.

—Through Heritage, the sword-bearer has access to the knowledge of his or her ancestors,
the sword explained in answer to his unspoken question.
Those with
‘cin
have access to centuries of arcane knowledge, much of which is unknown outside of your bloodline. The same is true for
’kel,
which, as we have discussed, is how you are able to wield it.

For several moments, Aidan reeled at the staggering amount of magic available to him.
Summoning fire from the sword back in the cave felt different, though.

—It was. Simple spells, such as a bit of fire, can pass through the Eye. It was crafted from the Lady’s light, after all. More complex spells, like the one used just now, require the swordbearer to kindle and pass the light to the sword. One of your ancestors knowledgeable in the necessary spell took the reins from there.

Aidan grew curious.
Who?
Then:
Let me guess. Not yet?

—I knew you’d catch on eventually.

Aidan studied Daniel.
When will he awaken?

—Like herbs and tonics, healing requires lots of rest to do its work.

Biting his lip, he looked out the frosted window. Dim rays from the Lady glinted against ice and glass. The wind continued to howl.
There’s no way he can go back out in this.