Heritage: Book One of the Gairden Chronicles (30 page)

He looked at Aidan. “Training a Gairden is a duty undertaken by our bloodline. But Tyrnen, as the Eternal Flame of Crotaria and your mother’s friend, was given the opportunity to participate in your training and tutelage.”

Aidan felt numb. “He must have been quite disappointed when the sword rejected me. But why now after eight hundred years? He could have wormed his way into the lives of any of our bloodline and manipulated them.”

Charles cleared his throat. “You are the strongest Touched in our line yet, Aidan. But you are also pliable. I love you, so please don’t take offense at my words, but you have never had an affinity for responsibility. Of course, that might not be entirely your fault. Mathias likely preyed on your feelings to ensure that when the time came to put his plan into motion, you would act as he wished, do as he wished.”

Aidan’s thoughts darkened.
Sixteen years of being raised by a man who had been like a grandfather to him, and all Tyrnen had wanted was to use Aidan as a tool, just as Luria used him.

“I’m going to kill him,” Aidan said flatly.

“Killing Destruction’s Champion will not assure victory,” Ambrose said to him. “Hundreds of thousands of Sallnerians, Torelians, Darinians, and Leastonians have died these last eight hundred years. Tyrnen could draft any one of them into his army of the dead.”

Aidan felt a twinge of panic. “That doesn’t matter. I can—”

“You are strong,” Charles interrupted, “but the harbingers can band together. We do not know how many of them walk Crotaria, nor the guises they assume.”

Aidan’s shoulders sagged. They were right. Tyrnen had him vastly outnumbered. “What can I do?”

His grandfather gave him a level look. “You must return to Sunfall and take back the Crown of the North—and you must repair the damage done between Torel and Darinia.”

“We believe the war is a vital component in Tyrnen’s plan,” Ambrose said. “Torel and Darinia go to war. One of them destroys the other. The nation left standing will surely be vulnerable. Tyrnen and his vagrants sweep in and decimate the survivors— with Dimitri Thalamahn, as likely as not.”

“But the Prophet still guards the Serpent’s Fang,” Aidan began. Then he remembered Ambrose saying Tyrnen had confronted the old woman. “She’s dead, isn’t she?” he said quietly.

Anastasia nodded. “I’m afraid so. Without her to guard it, Tyrnen has likely recovered Dimitri’s blade.”

Aidan ran a shaky hand through his hair. “This is all my fault.”

Charles gripped Aidan’s shoulders. “Remember what the Prophet said, Aidan. You have no time to attribute blame or feel sorry for yourself. What’s done is done. Do not dwell on mistakes. Instead, concentrate on fixing them. What will you do?”

Aidan scratched at his cheek. “I will go to Nichel and explain what has happened. I will tell her that Torel and Darinia must stand together against Tyrnen and the Thalamahns. I will need to approach the merchants’ guild, also. Tyrnen has manipulated the north and west. I doubt he has left Leaston alone.”

Ambrose shook his head. “You must reclaim the Crown of the North first, Aidan. As long as the harbingers act as rulers, they control Torel’s Ward.”

Aidan grimaced. “Isn’t there a way I can show people what those impostors really are?”

“If there is,” Anastasia said, “we do not know of it.” She sounded apologetic. Aidan understood why. The magic that flowed through his veins and through the veins of so many Gairdens before him carried Anastasia’s gift. If she, perhaps the most powerful Touched Crotaria had ever known, did not know of a magic, it probably did not exist.

“It is time for you to depart Sanctuary,” Ambrose said to him. He pointed at the sky. Aidan saw a red dot hanging stationary among the clouds like a floating ember. “To leave, simply focus on the star, and—”

“Wait,” Charles said. “There is the other matter. The one concerning his friends.”

“My friends?” Aidan asked, his voice tense with worry. “Are they all right?”

Ambrose scratched at his chin before grumbling, “No easy way to say it, I suppose. That Sallnerian girl and her brother have betrayed you.”

“Garrett and Christine? That’s impossible. Christine and I...” He shook his head. “Why would they do that?” A thought occurred to him. “Is Daniel all right?”

“He will live,” Charles assured him. “As for why...” He shrugged as a sad smile settled onto his face. “The same reason humans can be persuaded to do nearly anything. Tyrnen paid them a large sum of money.”

Aidan felt his face heat. Was there any facet of his life Tyrnen had not corrupted?

“The Sallnerian girl seems to have some good in her,” Ambrose said, though he sounded as if the words had been pried from him. “She tried to stand against Tyrnen and her brother. Even so, keep your guard up.”

Aidan nodded and clasped the man’s extended hand. “There are many more who are eager to meet you, though it will wait until another time,” Ambrose said. His eyes hardened. “Be wary, Crown of the North. You must—”

Aidan gasped. His life had changed so quickly that he had forgotten what being the sword-bearer meant. Heritage was more than a blade at his waist and a contact with his family. It was a crown, albeit one worn at his waist. From the moment he had accepted Heritage, he had been king.
From the moment Tyrnen killed my parents.

Charles gripped his grandson’s shoulder. “Do not fear, Aidan. Your family is with you, now and always. Call to us, and we will answer.”

“Thank you.”

The trio faded away, leaving Aidan alone with his thoughts.

For the first time since he had entered Sanctuary, Aidan was alone. He looked up at the sky and focused on the red star. His feet left the stone platform, and he rose like a bubble in water. The star seemed to shine brighter and grow larger as he rose. The sky changed color, blue fading to red before sudden darkness consumed him.

Wind rushed over him. A puddle of light appeared beneath his feet, and another faded into view before him. He stepped into it, and the next, and the next. Growls and heavy footsteps crunching over dead leaves and branches echoed around him. Briefly he wondered how he’d come to be in the Duskwood before realizing that the Prophet must have taken him here when Tyrnen had attacked.

Tyrnen.

The darkness around him matched his mood. He gritted his teeth as he remembered the look on his father’s face as he was forced to watch his wife die, and the look that had come over Annalyn when she had seen Edmund’s battered body. Aidan Gairden felt betrayed. He also felt used, as though a sacred part of his life had been nothing more than a lie.

More than anything, Aidan Gairden felt angry.

Chapter 28

Friends and Foes

C
HRISTINE HAD TRIED TO
slip past the harbinger one time and one time only. It stood outside the cabin, never moving, never speaking, barely seeming to breathe. She had slipped a dagger from a vagrant and crept up behind the harbinger, thinking to stab it and make a run for the trees that bordered this mysterious place painted in flowers and birdsong when the rest of Sallner, her homeland, sat in perpetual rot. She had been perhaps two steps from the harbinger’s back when it had spun and rooted her to the spot, fear forming in her belly like a block of ice.

The face staring back at her had been her own. It had grinned as she dropped the dagger and slowly backed away. It changed its appearance as she went, bones snapping like dry twigs as its skin shifted: Daniel, then Garrett, then Tyrnen, and herself—again and again it cycled through those faces. It smiled through all the changes, and through the beating Garrett had inflicted on Daniel as punishment for her attempt at flight.

She thinned her lips. Thinking of the problem had never been a productive way of looking at things. It was time to find a solution. Cautiously, she rose to her feet and crept toward the back of the cabin. As she moved, she kept an eye on Garrett, who slept in a bedroll by the door. Finally she reached Daniel, who lay curled in a ball in one corner. His face was puffy and bruised. Dry blood speckled his cracked lips.

“Daniel?” she whispered.

He stirred, groaning as his body shifted. She clamped a hand over his mouth and tensed, glanced over at Garrett. He snored but gave no sign of movement. Christine let out a silent breath and turned back to Daniel. She would shake him awake if she had to— but gently. Just as she opened her mouth, Daniel’s teeth clamped down on her fingers.

“Please,” she hissed as softly as she could. “I’m trying to get you out of here.” She bit down on her lip as the pain increased. “
Please
!”

Daniel narrowed his eyes and spat her hand away. She cradled it to her chest and glared at him.

“You’ll forgive me for not biting more tenderly,” Daniel whispered hotly.

Christine opted to grimace in pain instead of snapping back. He had every right to hate her. “I’m sorry for betraying you.”

“Oh, well, if you’re
sorry
.”

“We were supposed to turn Aidan in for a reward. I never wanted either of you to get hurt.” She liked Daniel, she truly did. And where Aidan was concerned... No, not now. She could not afford to worry about what Aidan would think of her. She did not
want
to.

“What my brother did was—” she began.

Daniel’s cracked lips twisted into a scowl. “He had help.”

She nodded. “I’m truly sorry.” What else could she say?

“Prove it.”

She gestured to the dying embers of the fire in the hearth. “One of the vagrants will be in soon to renew the fire. We eliminate him, and—”

“With what? Your brother took all my weapons.”

Christine pulled a dagger from her boot. “Always be prepared. So, we deal with the vagrant and make our way to the woods.”

Daniel twisted to glare at her brother’s sleeping form. “And Garrett?”

“What about him?”

“He’ll raise an alarm if he’s able to speak. We’ll need to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Christine hesitated. “He’s asleep. If we just slip by him, we—”

“Second-guessing your allegiance, again?”

“No, it’s just... he’s my brother. I don’t want to kill him. I can’t.”

Daniel’s eyes went flat. “I’ll do it.”

“No.” She took a breath. “If he wakes up—
if
—then we do what needs to be done. Otherwise I will not let harm come to him.”

Daniel grunted. “Fine. Where will we go?”

“Somewhere Aidan can easily find us.”

“We’ll figure it out on the way, I guess,” Daniel said. “But we can’t leave without Heritage.”

Christine suppressed an impatient growl. “Don’t you think Aidan would rather us escape with our lives than his sword?”

“It comes with us.” His tone left no room for argument.

She looked back to her brother. His arms were curled tightly around his chest. Firelight glinted from the steel he cuddled in his arms like a child’s night toy. “He sleeps with it,” she mumbled.

Daniel’s face became incredulous. “What?”

“He
sleeps. With. It
. He’s so afraid of anyone stealing it that he holds it while he sleeps.”

“I don’t care how we do it, but if you really care about Aidan, you’ll understand how important Heritage is to him, and to his family,” Daniel said. “We are
not
leaving it behind.”

She sighed. “Fine. Work the kinks out of your joints then wait for me by the doorway. Stay out of sight. I’ll get the sword.” She extended her dagger to him, then pulled back when he reached for her. “Do not use it on my brother.”

“All right, all right,” Daniel said, pocketing the blade. He pushed himself up slowly from the floor, breathing hard through swollen lips.

Crouching, Christine made her way across the room to Garrett. Thinning her lips, she reached for Heritage, intending to slide it slowly from his grasp, when he snorted and rolled onto his back. His arms fell open, leaving the sword in the crook of one arm.
This will be easier than I thought.
Carefully, she eased her hands under blade and hilt, and lifted it up. She closed her eyes, expelled the breath she had been holding, and opened them.

Garrett, eyes bulging, a maniacal grin twisting his face, stared back at her. His foot shot out and caught her in the chest, sending her tumbling away. Heritage clattered to the floor. For a moment, no air would enter her lungs, and she panicked. Then breath returned, squeezing through a hot tightness in her ribs.

“Thinking to cut my throat while I sleep?” Garrett asked. He leered over her, bouncing the flat of Heritage against one palm. “Going to run off and find your hero? I won’t let you ruin this for us, Christine. We’ve been promised more riches than you can even imagine, and I—”

Daniel barreled into him, shouting and hammering at Garrett with his fists. Heritage skittered from Garrett’s grasp and stopped at Christine’s boots. She scooped it up with trembling hands and pulled herself to her feet. Across from her, Garrett rolled over to mount Daniel, pinned his hands to the floor, stood, and dropped one knee squarely into Daniel’s exposed ribs. Daniel wheezed and turned purple.

“Garrett,” Christine said in a calm voice. Her brother whirled on her, snarling. He saw the shaking sword in her trembling hands.

“You can’t do it,” Garrett whispered, advancing. “Give me the sword, Christine. You don’t want to hurt me; you
can’t
hurt me, but I’ll hurt you, Christine, I’ll hurt you bad if you don’t
give me the damn sword!”

She winced and stepped back. She took another step back and bumped into the wall. Garrett came on, smiling now as he stalked her. She raised the sword and swallowed. She didn’t know anything about swordplay, but one didn’t have to be a master swordsman to swing and hit something.

Noises from outside stole their attention: shouts, roars, a flash of light, silence. Then the back wall of the cabin exploded, vomiting dust, dead grass, dirt, and wood over the floor and walls.

Coughing and sputtering, Christine looked up. Aidan stood in the splintered hole. She would have shouted with joy had another cough not reared up from her throat. He reached to her, and she almost slipped her hand in his before following his eyes. They rested on Heritage, not on her. She gave it to him. The swordbearer’s hands wrapped around the hilt. Instantly his eyes lit up, blazing like fire.