Heritage: Book One of the Gairden Chronicles (41 page)

—Night Terror draws in one’s consciousness from one’s body, just as your consciousness entered Heritage and left your body behind,
Anastasia explained.
In both scenarios, the body is still vulnerable, as is the caster. Tyrnen likely wanted to take you somewhere where he thought he wouldn’t be disturbed. If someone had come upon him, Tyrnen would have been just as vulnerable as you.

Aidan relayed the information. Edmund’s mouth tightened. “To think we could have stopped him right then and there...” He shook his head. “What else have you learned, son?”

Thinking back to the short time he’d spent with the Prophet, Aidan grimly told them about Dimitri and Luria Thalamahn’s attempts at resurrection, and how Luria controlled Tyrnen through Terror’s Hand.

“The weapons themselves are cursed,” he finished. “From within them, the Thalamahns call to those they deem worthy of providing host bodies and blood for their souls.”

“And if you answer their call, your own soul is sacrificed?” Christine asked.

Aidan began to explain that one must willingly touch one of the weapons when the sibilant whisper of steel being drawn from a scabbard caught his attention. Turning toward the sound, Aidan’s words died in his throat. Daniel stood at the foot of his bed, the enchanted scabbard for Serpent’s Fang at his waist. The sword was in his hands. Daniel stood staring at it, utterly spellbound.

Growing aware of their stares, Daniel blinked and looked up. “An utterly dark blade seems fitting for the king of all evil, I suppose.” He swung the Fang, then slipped it into its sheath. Folding his arms across his chest, he looked between his friends and noticed their horrified stares. “What?”

“Are you all right?” Aidan said, shrinking back slightly.

Daniel shrugged. “Tired, but I feel better than you look. I even look better than you look, but that’s always been the case.” He tried to smile, but the grin faltered. “What’s wrong?”

Is he...?
Aidan thought.

—I sense nothing amiss,
Anastasia sent back.

—He’s not cursed, but there’s definitely something amiss with that one,
Charles muttered.

Aidan ignored his grandfather’s jab. “Did you touch the sword of your own accord, Daniel?”

“Yes. I know you told me not too, but the sheath slipped off when Christine and I were leaving Sordia.”

“Did you hear a voice telling you to touch it?”

“A voice?”

“Yes. In your head.”

Daniel’s eyebrows rose. “I believe you’re the only one who hears voices in his head.”

“I touched it as well,” Christine said. “I volunteered to carry it for Daniel. He was still weary on the ride back. I heard no voice,” she said as Aidan opened his mouth to speak, “and I feel no different than before I touched the blade.”

Chewing his lip, Aidan lifted Heritage from his nightstand. He held out his other hand. “May I have it?”

—Aidan!
Charles said.

Can you examine the sword for enchantments through Heritage, Grandfather?

—Anastasia can, but I would rather her not do so at the expense of my grandson’s soul.

I feel no compulsion to touch it. This is of my own volition.

Daniel handed the Fang to Aidan. Rubbing sweaty fingers together, Aidan took a breath, then gripped the Serpent Fang’s hilt. He tensed, expecting... exactly what, he was not sure. But nothing happened. He drew in light and fed it to the sword. The Eye of Heritage flashed, faded.

—
This cannot be the true Serpent’s Fang. It seems Tyrnen has tricked us.

Aidan cursed silently.
Do you think he has the genuine blade?

—
We must assume he does, and going further, that he has found a suitable host for Dimitri. Be wary, Aidan. In all probability, you now face the might of Tyrnen and the Thalamahns.

Cold fear clenched his stomach. When Christine touched his arm out of concern, he gave her a small smile and quickly relayed to them what he had discovered. Even Daniel went ashen.

“Half-men-half-monsters, eerie old men controlled by golden rods, and the return of the worst tyrants in Crotaria’s history,” Daniel muttered, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “I wish I could go to sleep and have someone wake me when this is all over.”

Christine’s smile was tight. “If only our dreams were safe.”

“What do we do, son?” Edmund asked. Aidan relayed the question to his family.

—Be vigilant,
Charles said.
If Tyrnen has the Fang, then he has it. Focus on what can be changed. Your priority must be Darinia.

Aidan nodded, and, tossing the ersatz relic aside, told his friends the rest of what he had learned during his visit to Sanctuary. After he finished explaining the spirit stone, he turned to his father. “Mother’s soul is trapped within the spirit stone. If I can destroy the stone, she will be freed, along with the other souls Tyrnen has imprisoned.”

The color had drained from Edmund’s face. “That must be our first priority, then.”

Aidan faced his father in silence. “I’m sorry, but it must be my second priority. I’ve got to get to Nichel and persuade her to reforge Darinia’s alliance with Torel, and bring Leaston into the fold. Alone, any of the three realms will fall to Tyrnen’s forces.” He reached forward and gripped Edmund’s hand. “I will free her. You have my word.”

Tears rolled down Edmund’s cheeks. He took a breath and wiped them away. “Whatever must be done, will be done.”

A knock interrupted their conversation. Christine gestured to Edmund to remain seated and crossed to the door. A purple-robed attendant entered carrying a golden crown inlaid with gems. Eight tiny spires rose from the base of the circlet. Another scurried in behind him carrying a tray topped with four crystalline goblets filled halfway with a rich, red drink. The attendants paused in front of Aidan, issuing a deep bow.

“Your Majesty’s Crown,” the first one said.

Aidan glanced at his father, his eyes widening.

Rising, his face tightened in pain, Edmund reverently took the crown from the cushion and placed it atop Aidan’s head. “It’s your time, son.”

At that, everyone fell to one knee. Aidan felt his face catch fire. He had knelt before that crown his entire life, but this was the first time anyone had ever knelt to
him.

After several moments, the servant carrying the drinks looked up at the Crown of the North, dropped his eyes hastily, and held the tray toward Aidan. Edmund took it and dismissed the servants, who bobbed their heads and avoided looking Aidan in the eyes on their way out. As the door clicked shut behind them, Edmund passed around the drinks.

“To my son,” Edmund said, his face aglow with pride, and... was that
amusement?
“Long live the Crown of the North.”

“Long live the Crown of the North,” Daniel and Christine echoed. Edmund and Daniel tossed their drinks back. Aidan, still stunned, took a sip, then swallowed the berry-tasting liquid in two gulps.

“Leastonian red,” he said to Christine as he wiped his lips. She smiled at him, and he noticed she had left her drink untouched.

Just then, Daniel spoke up.

“If His Majesty permits, his loyal servant has a suggestion.”

“Sure,” Aidan mumbled, his face burning from the drink more than shock and embarrassment at his father—the General of the Ward!—kneeling before him.

The corners of Daniel’s mouth twitched. “You might not look as silly if you wear clothes while that thing sits on your head.”

Aidan made a strangled sound. He looked to his father. Edmund wore a wide grin. Aidan’s eyes drifted to Christine. Not surprisingly, she did not blush at all. Summoning what little dignity he could muster, Aidan set the crown and his empty goblet on the bed beside him.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he said evenly, “I’m going to get dressed.”

“I’ll help,” Christine offered.

Daniel got up from the bed, nudging Aidan with his elbow as he rose. Edmund did not rise

“Word of what happened during your trial has spread, as has the truth behind our war against Darinia,” his father said. “Torel knows you are the sword-bearer, Aidan, and its king. Before we depart, your people must hear from you.”

Aidan’s stomach churned. “I’ll address them,” he said faintly.

Edmund nodded and stood, brushing aside all three of them when they moved to help. “Away, away. I can do this myself.” He took to his feet and worked the crutches under his arms. “Would you two mind if I had a word alone with my son?”

Aidan tore his gaze away from Christine. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

“All right,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze. Her fingers left his reluctantly.

Edmund waited until the door had closed behind them then faced Aidan.

“She seems like a lovely girl, son, but—”

“I know what you’re going to say. She’s Sallnerian. Well, I don’t care. I—”

“Is she?” Edmund said, feigning surprise. “I hadn’t noticed.” His face grew serious. “That doesn’t concern me. She saved my son’s life; that’s all I need to know about her. What does concern me is a prior obligation that seems to have slipped your mind.”

Aidan stared blankly.

“Nichel, son. You are still promised to her.”

Aidan’s face had been twisting in dawning horror from the moment his father had said the wolf daughter’s name. “Dawn’s light, I... I forgot.”

Edmund chuckled. “As I suspected.”

Aidan flopped back against his pillows. The arrangement between the Crown of the North and the war chief had been made moments after Nichel was born. Aidan had had no part in it. Surely Nichel wouldn’t want to keep to the agreement after all that had happened. And...

“I think I love her, Father,” he said softly.

Edmund sighed and eased himself down onto the bed. He was silent for several moments.

“The agreement might not even be valid,” he said at last. “This war has changed everything. My advice, if you want it—”

Aidan sat up. “I do.”

“—is to put this situation out of your mind for now. You must repair the alliance between Torel and Darinia.” Edmund smiled. “After all, a man’s got to be alive to marry.”

Aidan nodded, feeling a little better. Edmund patted his leg and stood.

“Meet us out in the hall.
After
you get dressed, please. Let’s not get your people
too
excited.”

Chapter 40

Different Directions

A
IDAN BUTTONED HIS SLEEVES
as the party of four strode toward the western courtyard. His left hand moved to his waist to clutch at the hilt of Heritage, the gesture a perfect mimic of his father’s, whose hand gripped Valor’s hilt. Christine slipped an arm through his as they walked. Daniel led the way, clearing a path as they hurried toward the southern courtyard. A sound like muted thunder reached his ears.

Aidan tried to let his mind wander. How things had changed since his birthday. He had grown, and despite fearing that growth and the duty it entailed since he was old enough to comprehend it, he could not fathom returning to the carefree days of his boyhood.

They finally reached the antechamber. Swallowing hard, he stepped forward, then looked back. Daniel and Edmund smiled; Christine offered a playful wink. After another deep breath, he nodded to the Wardsmen to pull open the large front doors.

The sudden roar of the assemblage almost knocked him back. A sea of cheering faces stared at him, their eyes wide with awe and excitement—and hope. He mounted a small set of stairs that led to the wide dais where he’d stood days before—now devoid, he was pleased to note, of chopping blocks and harbingers. Moving to its center, Aidan looked out over his people. They filled the courtyard to surfeit and flowed down the mountain pass.

He raised his hands for silence, a wish granted after several minutes. When he next spoke, he drew in light and amplified his voice to reach the far corners of the courtyard.

“I stand before you today a different man from the Aidan Gairden many of you saw two months ago. It took the death of my mother, as well as a war instigated by a false friend, to mold me into the man you see standing here today.”

He paused. “Our war against Darinia is over.”

He waited for the renewed cheering to fade, though it took considerably longer. “The war was an act of deception. Together, we cast out the deceivers. But only for now. I will depart in an effort to repair our bond with Darinia.” He roamed his eyes across the crowd. “Our time is short. The main force of our army has already been sent to the borders at Sharem. They are not aware of our victory here over the traitorous Eternal Flame, and if I do not act quickly, the bloodshed will continue. Tyrnen has fled, but he has not been defeated. Many of you were present at what was almost my execution, where the true nature of Tyrnen and his followers was revealed. He is more than a traitor and a murderer.” Aidan had to pause to wet his lips. “Aiding him are the souls of Dimitri and Luria Thalamahn.”

The whispers became cries of fright, but Aidan raised his hands, asking for quiet so that he could continue. “Our enemies are as ancient as the Thalamahns: vagrants, rotting corpses disguised as men and women, walk Crotaria under Tyrnen’s control. The coming months will bring more horrors. But we will be strong. We
must
be strong. The true war is just beginning, and many adversities lie ahead. But we have survived hardship before, and we will persevere.”

The eruption of cheers was louder than any that had come before. He let them bask in their own fervor, their determination. They would need both to survive the times that swiftly approached. He was about to duck back into Sunfall when the deafening roar coalesced into words.

“Aidan! The Guardian!” came from one pocket of the crowd. From another: “Crown of the North!” More and more cheers rose up, each draping him with a new title. One that caught on quickly was “Corpse-slayer.” A chill swept through him. As a boy, Aidan had envied his father’s designation of Valorous. He had not spent nearly as much time thinking over what his father had done to earn the title.

Re-entering Sunfall, he saw Edmund and Daniel whispering intently in one corner.