The Wizard's Heir (25 page)

Tybolt got to his feet, still laughing, and peeked out the tent. “They’re all so well fed.”

“It takes a lot of stealing to keep them that way. It seems we have something in common in that regard.”

Tybolt raised his eyebrow.

“I’ve seen the sacks of food over your shoulder as you sneak through my alley.”

“Just leftover kitchen scraps.”

“I doubt that.”

“No need to doubt,” Auriella said. “That was a flat-out lie.”

“I have several informants within the castle,” Griffon said. “Lady Auriella, I must say I am the most surprised to see you. Rumor was that you’d been chosen as the next queen.”

Tybolt’s fist clenched around the fabric of the tent and it burst into flames. He leapt back with a yelp.

“Don’t just stand there,” Griffon bellowed. Auriella grabbed the blanket off a cot and darted past Tybolt. She wrapped the fabric around the burning tent flap, smothering the flames.

Asher’s eyes were wide. “Lord of fern
and
fire…there’s a name I can work with.”

Griffon stared at Tybolt’s hand. “Now
that
is interesting.”

Tybolt stepped back, shaking. “Griffon, I—”

“Sit before you fall over,” Griffon said.

Tybolt felt the back of the cot against his calves and he sat.

“You’re a bloody wizard,” Griffon said.

No use denying it. He put his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. “Yes.”

“He’s also Aja’s son and heir to the throne,” Asher added.

Tybolt glared up at Asher.

“The heir?” Griffon said. “Is this true?”

Tybolt ground the base of his palms into his eyes, hoping it would stop the roaring headache that had just appeared. “Yes, it’s true.”

Griffon roared with laughter, slapping his thigh. “Now
that
is the best thing I’ve heard in a long time.”

“Not the reaction I was expecting,” Auriella said, tossing the destroyed blanket to the ground.

“What were you expecting?” Griffon said, still laughing. “That I would try to haul him back to Rowan?”

“Yes,” Tybolt said honestly. “That was a distinct possibility.”

“The people are starving, and Rowan is a worse tyrant than any wizard who ever ruled…including Aja.”

“I know,” Tybolt said.

“I’ve never harbored a love of wizards, or Hunters for that matter. But you, you’re different. You’re who we need.”

Tybolt shook his head. “I worry the people will not support another wizard.”

“No,” Griffon agreed. “They won’t, but they will support you.”

“I
am
a wizard!”

“And a Hunter,” Auriella added.

“I choose to see neither,” Griffon said firmly. “You’re Tybolt, the single reason half of the women and children in that cursed village live. Those who know you wouldn’t care if you were purple and had the backend of an ass—they’d still support you.”

“That’s good to hear,” Asher said. “Because we came for your help. We need the thieves.”

Griffon crossed his arms and looked Asher up and down. “I’ve seen you with Terric, Hunter. I won’t help you.”

“Here we go,” Auriella said.

“Then what about me?” Tybolt stood and threw back his shoulders, trying to look exceedingly more confident than he felt. “Will you help me?”

Griffon grinned. “Yes.”

“I don’t come alone.”

“You mean this one.” Griffon jerked his head towards Asher.

“And that one.” He pointed to Auriella. “And more.”

“More Hunters? My people won’t like it.”

“Mmmm, worse than that. These are the only Hunters on my side. The rest are wizards.”

“Bloody demon spawn of Aja,” Griffon growled.

Asher snorted and then started laughing. He bit his lip and turned away, but his shoulders were shaking.

“What’s so funny?” Tybolt asked.

“Demon spawn of Aja,” he sputtered. “I just realized—that’s you!”

Griffon and Auriella joined Asher in laughing while Tybolt stood, half shocked, contemplating his choice of profanity over the last few years.

Rowan drummed his fingers against the arm of his chair. He hated to wait.

Tonight would tax him to his limits and beyond, but if it worked he would accomplish all his goals in one swipe. Then everything would finally be his. Tybolt’s death was the only factor left in play, but whether it was by the hand of his fellow Hunters or by the next Fracture, it would happen.

Finally, the doors opened and one of his guards walked in. “Your Majesty, they’re all assembled where you requested.”

“Excellent.” He stood and walked around the table. “The stonecutter and the blacksmith?”

“They started their work in the old ballroom hours ago, as requested.”

“Very good.”

Rowan strode past the guard and headed towards the throne room where the Hunters were waiting. There was a hum of activity, but as soon as he opened the doors the room fell silent. He headed for his throne, listening to every one of his footfalls. These were the steps of a man walking towards his destiny, and it was a sound he’d been dying to hear.

He turned, pulled his cloak back, and sat, looking out at the Hunters. The faces he’d sworn to destroy now looked to him as a leader. He never thought he would enjoy it as much as he did, but it was nearly as sweet a feeling as he imagined he’d have at bringing about their demise.

“I’m sure by now you’ve all heard of the betrayal at our very heart,” Rowan announced with as much sorrow as he could muster.

“Is it true?” one of the Hunters shouted. “Is Tybolt a wizard?”

“It’s true.”

A buzz went through the room, and Rowan heard the phrase
blue eyes
repeatedly before he held his hand up for silence.

“He is not one of you anymore. He is one of them. And a wizard who knows all our secrets can’t be allowed to live.” Rowan rose to his feet, propelled solely by the personal triumph of this moment. “Tybolt must die. At first light, each and every one of you will be saddled and ready to ride. You will flood the forest and flush Tybolt out like the rat he is.”

The Hunters roared their approval.

“You will shoot to kill,” Rowan shouted. “We have no mercy for one such as this. And I promise you—a bounty the likes of which you’ve never seen will go to the Hunter who brings me the traitor’s head.”

The crowd went wild, and Rowan smiled down at the frenzy.

There was only one more thing to do, and then all the pieces would be in place. The younger Hunters still waited for him in the dining room. He would instruct them to bring the wizards into the old ballroom under the guise of his concern for the security of the Hold. Rowan strode from the room.

“Your Majesty!”

Rowan turned to see Terric running towards him. The side of his face, though covered with a bandage, was wet with an oozing infection.

“Send me, Your Majesty. I’ll kill Tybolt with my bare hands.”

“I am sending you,” Rowan said coolly.

“No, only me.”

“As I commanded, I will have all the Hunters scouring the forest.”

Terric’s jaw clenched, and his fists shook at his side. “I assure you, I am perfectly capable of—”

“
All
the Hunters. Have I made myself quite clear? Every single one of you will be outside those walls and tracking this traitor. If you’re unhappy with my decision, we can arrange for you to spend the night in the dungeons and miss your chance at killing the Hunter you hate the most. I’m sure your fellow Hunters will be more than happy to haul you down there when they hear you wanted to take away their chance at a substantial bounty.”

“No,” Terric said, grinding his teeth. He gave a pathetic attempt at a bow. “Your Majesty.”

“You ride at first light. Now get out of my sight.”

The thieves’ camp was silent. Two distinct sides stared at each other over a small strip of unoccupied earth. Griffon’s rag tag bunch occupied one side. Tybolt, Asher, Auriella, and the wizards stood greatly outnumbered on the other. The air was rife with distrust.

Finally, a snaggletooth man in the front row broke the silence and vocalized what the rest were thinking. “I’m not working with a bunch of wizards!”

“No one is obligated to help,” Griffon said. “I won’t push any of you into a war.”

“How can we trust them?” Jamison said, jabbing a grubby finger at the wizards.

“Trust
us
?” Carac sputtered. Alistair rolled his eyes and elbowed him hard in the ribs. Carac clamped his lips together and looked at the ground.

The oldest amongst the thieves was a bent man with thick wrinkles and sparse white hair. He stepped forward, his eyes pulled into slits and his chest heaving with emotion. “Don’t any of you recognize him?” He pointed to Alistair. “Go ahead, tell them who you are…or I will.”

“My name is Alistair, brother of Aja.”

A buzz went through the crowd and shouts rose up.

“Do you have any idea how much we could get for him?”

“He’s been stopping the weather!”

“Throw him in the Hold.”

“Enough!” Griffon demanded silence. “They are here under the promise of my protection, and not one of them will be harmed until I say otherwise. Anyone who can’t abide this order will find yourselves out in the woods without the protection of the Drop.”

Tybolt watched in surprise and shock as the bartender, who’d been so soft spoken in Eriroc, displayed a charisma he’d never witnessed.

“How many of you have family back in Eriroc?” Tybolt called out.

At least a third of the thieves raised their hands.

“And do you approve of how they’re treated?”

“Of course not,” someone shouted. “Are you trying to tell us that a bunch of filthy wizards will change that?”

“No, I’m saying they’ll help
us
change that.”

“I’ve heard enough,” a woman in the back of the crowd said. “I’ll be in the tents if you need me for anything legitimate…like chopping wood.” She turned to leave among murmurs of agreement.

“Violet,” Griffon yelled. “In Rose’s messages, she’s spoken of a blue-eyed Hunter, hasn’t she?”

Violet slowly swung back around, her features etched in a scowl. “What of it?”

“Look at that boy’s eyes.” He pointed to Tybolt. “Look.”

“Is that a request?”

“Nope.”

Violet shoved through the crowd, grumbling. She crossed the empty field between the two factions and stood toe to toe with Tybolt.

Up close, Violet reminded Tybolt of Rose in many ways: her eyes, mannerisms, and that fiery temper. “You’re Rose’s sister, aren’t you?”

“I am.” She put her hands on her hips. “The last bird that came in said the blue-eyed Hunter had paid her for services. Is that true?”

Tybolt now understood the crow he’d seen on Rose’s roof. There
was
something attached to its leg, a tube for passing messages. “No. I overpaid her boy, Jorad, for services. Rose’s words, not mine.” He tilted his head to the side, trying not to smile. “Did I pass your test?”

“She never mentioned how handsome you are.” Violet winked and returned to her side. She gave a resigned shrug. “I’m in.”

“Tybolt has worked tirelessly to keep those in the village safe and fed,” Griffon said quickly, hurrying to piggyback off Violet’s change of heart. “He spends more time with those people, your people, than he spends with his own kind. He’s the best chance we’ve got against Rowan, and more importantly, I trust him.”

“But you can’t speak for the rest of those demons, can you?” a large burly man in the back objected. “I’m looking at both my sworn enemies, wizards
and
Hunters, and you’re asking me to fight by their side. To what end? Restore Eriroc to better times,
wizard
times? I haven’t forgotten what happened the last time a wizard was on the throne, Griffon.”

Tybolt stepped forward. He took a moment to look out at the ranks of thieves, trying to meet as many eyes as he could.

“I lost my mother and sister in the Fracture,” he began. “I went into the castle hating Aja just as much as every one of you. I spent the last eight…nine years of my life hunting down wizards and throwing them in the Hold.” He shook his head. “I know that none of you have ever seen the inside of the Hold, and you’ll have to trust me when I say none of you want to. It is quite literally hell on earth. I’ve had wizards kill themselves right in front of me to avoid the end they knew was coming.