Read Heirs of War Online

Authors: Mara Valderran

Heirs of War (20 page)

She bit her lip, a mischievous glint in her eye as she understood his meaning. “Gotcha. See you around, Cedwen. If you see me, that is.”

Zelene entered the antechamber to her room with a lightness in her step, happy to have a way to free herself of the confines o
f her room. She noticed a girl sitting in a chair in the corner, her head wrapped in one of those ugly pea-colored cloths, and recognized her to be one of the Tainted. Her good mood quickly faded as she became enraged all over again about how the Tainted were treated and wondered why someone had sent one to her. Those seemingly innocent headwraps were like neon signs blinking 'Tainted' in bright bold letters for all to see, meant to leave them looking as unattractive as possible while still forcing them to stand out in a crowd.

Zelene watched
the Tainted girl rise, knowing this girl could outshine her any day of the week no matter how she dressed. Judging by the shade of the girl’s eyebrows, Zelene guessed the her hair was a deep chocolate color that probably perfectly contrasted the coffee-colored eyes that glanced up from beneath long, thick lashes. Her skin was an envious shade of golden bronze and clear of any blemishes or freckles. Her lips were neither full nor thin, but the right size to compliment her face. Even with the plain and poorly made dress, Zelene could tell the girl had body to kill for with her long torso and curved hips. She had always felt her own body to be more on the thin and wiry side of things and had always hated girls built like her maidservant just on principle. It wasn't fair for someone to look so good naturally.

The girl stepped forward, her head lowered in a bow. “Greetings of a bright morning to you, Ainnir Zelene. I have been assigned to the Duillaine Ainnir to see to your needs.” Her voice
trembled with nerves as she went on. “I have been given permission to speak to you, only to explain my presence. The Duillaine Banair felt a human presence rather than the Donnfay might help you to better adjust to your settings. I will bring your food, clean your rooms, see to your clothes, and aid you in any way you request. I will not speak beyond this explanation unless spoken to.”

“Like hell! You’re not gonna be my servant.”
Her chest was flush with the anger she felt at these backwards customs.

The girl’s shoulders fell and she tried to stifle a whimper. “Forgive me, my lady. I will report to the Duillaine that you were offended by my presence, and they will send someone more suitable.”

“No,” Zelene blocked the girl’s path. “I’m not offended by you. I just…I’m not the kind of girl that gets a servant, you know? I’ve always been the servant.”

The girl’s eyes widened as she looked up. “You were a servant?” She cupped her hands over her mouth. “Forgive me. I did not mean to speak.” She placed her hands back over her mouth as if to help her stifle the temptation.

Zelene reached out and gently removed the girl’s hands from her face. “What’s your name?”

“Ellowyn
,” she answered hesitantly.

Zelene nodded. “Well, Ellowyn, my name is Zelene. Not Ainnir Zelene. Just Zelene. So that’s what I want to you to call me. Okay?”

“But, it’s forbidden for me to address you so informally. I would be dismissed.”

Zelene’s
nostrils flared as she drew in a deep breath. “Call me Zelene when we’re here, then. Act however you need to outside these doors so you don’t get in trouble, but in here, we’re friends.”

Ellowyn was looking around as if someone might burst through the door and grab her. She
wrung her hands together before looking back to Zelene. “I don’t know what that means. I’ve never been someone’s friend before. It’s forbidden for my kind.”

Zelene felt ashamed of the times she had
pitied herself back home. She had never known true loneliness, not like this girl had. She’d always had Kyle. “Not anymore. I’m the boss. Prophesized to be all powerful or whatever. So I’m overruling them. You and I are friends now. Which means we talk about each other’s days, our interests, whatever we want. We laugh, we joke, we tell stories.”

Ellowyn’s eyes filled with tears. “I’d like that very much.”

A knock came to the door, which Zelene opened before Ellowyn could get to it. A young man with light brown hair hanging to his shoulders stood before her. His eyes were hazel and slightly sunken, giving him the appearance of wisdom beyond his young years.

“What’s up?” she asked him
, holding the door open, but blocking his entrance.

He
looked to the ceiling with a confused frown. "I don't know...what am I looking for?"

She rolled her eyes. "It's a greeting. Sort of like, 'How are you?' or 'What's going on?'" she explained. "So, what's going on?"

“I see. I thought I might introduce myself. My name is Nolan. I’m your brother,” he announced and spread his arms out, as though he expected a hug.

Zelene was
tempted to shut the door on him. She could see the similarities between Nolan and the man claiming to be her father. She still wasn’t sure how much of this she was convinced of, but she decided to give her “brother” the benefit of the doubt. “Nice to meet you, brother-mine. Did you hear that our sister is in some kinda magical coma? Oh, and our other sister was probably kidnapped by the people who tried to kill me? Or maybe you are here to give me an update on the mysterious family who decided that shutting a temperamental adolescent in a strange new world in her room was a good idea?”

Nolan cleared his throat. “Actually, I was here to see if you might care to go
for a walk with me. I haven’t seen you since you were a baby, and you were not this talkative then.”

She lost her steam at his retort. “Oh. I guess we can do that. I already went for a walk earlier, though.”

“Yes, I heard. If my idea is too boring for you, you are more than welcome to decline and stay here. By yourself. Without any information as to what is going on around you.”

Zelene heard Ellowyn stifle a laugh a
nd glared at her brother. “You twisted my arm. Let’s go.”

“The entire floor of this building belongs to our family,” he said as he gestured around them, “just as the top floors of the other buildings belong to the other families of the Duillaine. One building to represent each element, and therefore each Duillaine.”

“Let me guess: You aren’t allowed to take me anywhere beyond the top floors of the buildings.”

He nodded. “The Duillaine are still trying to sort out the situation. They’ve been meeting with the Cynewards to gather information on your arrivals, as well as your lives. They are in a complete uproar over Isauria and Ariana, as you appear to be as well.”

She shrugged stiffly and marched down the hallway. “Not really. I mean, I don’t know them.”

He
looked at her, eyes full of doubt. “Perhaps you would like to visit your friend in the leigheas. I heard his treatments are going quite well.”

“Oh, he’s still here, is he? I was under the impression he planned on running home as fast as his legs could take him.”

“Don’t you think you are being a bit harsh given his circumstances?”

“Nope. Like you said, he’s doing fine. He’ll be out of here in no time, which is exactly what he wants.”

He folded his hands behind his back as they walked. “And what is it that you want? Do you wish him to stay?”

“Of course not
,” she lied. “I thanked him for saving me and now he can go back to where he belongs.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes before his face turned serious. "I overheard your conversation with your maidservant. You are very kindhearted."

"No I'm not," she said dismissively. "It's just natural. No offense, but your rules here are pretty stupid. People shouldn't be treated like they are anything more or less than human."

"I couldn't agree more," he said, which caused her some surprise. "What?" he asked with a laugh. "You can't possibly expect everyone to agree with the ways of Anscombe. If they did, there would be no war."

"I know," she admitted as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "I just didn't expect someone like you to agree with me. I mean, you were raised here. Where I come from, the more money you have, the better off you are. Which means you're less likely to care about anyone else."

"That's a very cynical world view," he remarked
, guiding her down the stairs.

She lifted a shoulder as if to say it was the way things were. "Money changes people. So does power." She
peered skeptically at him from the corner of her eye. "Why are you so different?"

His mouth twisted, his tongue running
along the inside of his cheek. "When I was your age, I fell in love with a Tainted girl here. We were crazy about each other. She always said nothing could come of our affections, but I never believed her. I thought love would win out, and we would get married."

They moved through the courtyard in silence as his mind drifted to the memories he relived. It seemed to be a common area for social meetings as other people walked through the vibrant garden paths. A couple sat on the edge of a large round fountain depicting a family of four. The stone family smiled down on the young couple as they held each other close and whispered their sweet nothings. Zelene noticed that the couple held her brother’s interest as well.

"What happened?" she prodded.

He sighed, pulling himself from his reverie
. "We had to keep our affair a secret. We had been together for a couple of years when a young girl from Tullia, a neighboring world fairly neutral in the war, was sent here to stay. I was ordered to show her around. When the Duillaine Banair announced that they expected me to marry her, I refused and declared my intention to marry Jessica. They sent her away the next day," he finished sadly.

"I'm sorry," she said, genuinely touched by his story
. She hated to hear that he had lost the love of his life. She knew all too well what that heartbreak felt like. Her own broken heart was the reason she hadn't been back to the leigheas. The hurt was too much to go through all over again. "Do you know where they sent her? Maybe we could find her."

Nolan turned to his sister
and looked at her admirably. "I like that about you. You see a problem, and you want to fix it. But you must be careful," he warned. "I will not argue that changes do not need to be made in Estridia and the worlds at large. For all their faults, the Cahirans are right to hope for this, to attempt to make a better world. But people don't take to change well. The sort of changes needed to bring peace to the worlds can't all happen overnight."

"I know," she responded after a pause. "Believe me, I do. I know I'm not exactly adapting well to this place. Then again, I guess
the way I was introduced—people trying to kill me and violence and all—it wasn't the best way to ease me into everything, but hey...."

"I heard you were attacked multiple times, though I have not heard the details. How did you survive? If you don't mind my asking."

"Kyle," she said sadly. "He risked his life for me. And then Varrick showed up and sort of ripped out the heart of the guy who was trying to kill me. All very badass and disgusting at the same time.” She craned her neck to better view their surroundings as a question occurred to her. “Hey, where is Varrick, anyway?”

Nolan
flexed his jaw disapprovingly. "He has…other matters to attend to right now."

"Other matters?" she asked incredulously. "I thought I was supposed to be the
only
matter he attended to."

"They take for granted
that you are within Anscombe's walls," he remarked. "Our aunts seem to easily forget the reason you were sent away to begin with. Luckily, you have me here to protect you."

She glanced askew at him. "Seeing as how you aren't even armed, how is that supposed to comfort me?"

He lifted the corner of his mouth before his hand shot out to the right, and his head jerked around to the left. Instantaneously, the bench he was staring at went up in flames, and one of the potted plants across the walkway flew through the air. The plant came to a stop just before it would have slammed into wall, and the flames died down just as quickly as they had begun, leaving the bench charred and smoldering.

"Okay, I get it,
" she said, her voice panicky. "You've got skills. You don't have to destroy the place to make your point."

He waved her concerns off. "No serious harm was done. Well, beyond the bench, I suppose. The donnfay won't be very happy with me and will probably lecture me later, but I'd say it was worth it to see the look on your face," he teased. "You'll find different people have different...levels of power, I suppose you might say. Sharing blood relation to the Duillaine affords me more than what you might find to be normal."

"Varrick's bigger," she countered with a somewhat teasing tone and wondered what ‘business’ Varrick was attending to.

 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Terrena was seated in the corner of Kyle’s room when Varrick walked in. She could tell that the warrior was using his gifts at full capacity since he didn’t seem to notice her there. He walked over to Kyle’s bedside
and tapped his fingers against the sheets as he watched the young man sleep. He reached out and lightly brushed the hair from Kyle’s eyes.

“You care about him,” Terrena whispered.

Startled, Varrick quickly lowered himself into a bow.
“Forgive me, Ainnir Terrena. I did not see you.”

Terrena rose to her feet and placed a hand on his head. “There is no need to apologize, Cyneward. I take it from your surprise that you are not here to see me.”

“No. I came to speak to the boy. If that’s alright.”

“Of course it is. I can leave if you like,” she offered.

“No, please stay.” He was hesitant when he took a step toward her. “Might I ask why you are here, Ainnir Terrena? I was told you were all supposed to stay in your rooms until the Duillaine sent for you.”

“I thought I might
be useful here,” she said nonchalantly. “Bianca has her hands full with Isauria, and with my skills as a healer I thought I might be able to help him heal. And…I thought Kyle might be lonely.”

“How’s he doing?”

“He sleeps a lot, but he’s doing much better than he was. I think he’s more upset about his lack of visitors than his condition.”

Varrick grunted his disapproval. “Zelene still hasn’t come by?”

“Not since he woke up. Every time I come in the room, I can see the hope in his eyes die. Like he was hoping I was her. I think he’ll be happy to see you. Would you like for me to wake him up for you?”

“No. I know how to get him up.” He
turned back to Kyle's sleeping form and lightly slapped him on the cheek. "Wake up, boy."

"Owe!" Kyle swatted at Varrick's hand as it slapped him lightly again, and Terrena stifled a laugh
as he flailed. "I'm awake, geez." He pushed himself, panicked. "What's wrong? Is Zelene okay?"

Varrick leaned against the bed.
“She's fine, thanks to you. And thanks to her, you're okay."

"Not sure I’d go so far
as to say I’m ‘okay’ but whatever,” Kyle grumbled and stretched his arms over his head. “So why are you waking me up from a really nice nap if nothing's wrong?"

"Just making conversation. I've been meaning to stop by, but I haven't had a chance."

Kyle blinked at Varrick. "If you're getting all sentimental on me, then I must be a hell of a lot worse off than I thought."

"Nah, I just owe you is all. I know you'll be heading back once you recover, and I wanted to take the time to thank you for your help while I could." Varrick
shifted his weight on his feet, glancing awkwardly to Terrena and lowered his voice. "I'm sure you've figured out by now my job is to protect her. Has anyone explained to you what I am?"

Varrick
glanced at Terrena again as Kyle muttered his negative response, and she decided to inspect the patterned rug at her feet to give them more privacy. She hadn’t explained the Cynewards roles to Kyle yet, though she was very curious to hear what Varrick had to say.

"There are different types of what you would call guards here. There's the siegward, which is what you would refer to as soldiers on a battlefield. Then there's the havward, which are basically Secret Service here. They w
ork on the grounds of Anscombe Palace, both inside and out, to protect the family. Did anyone explain to you about the family?"

"Yeah, Terrena said Zelene's like a princess or something. I mean, all of them are," Kyle answered simply. "It's passed down from generation to generation from mother to daughter, right?"

"Something like that. Well, then you know in each generation one daughter is born to each element. One guard is called to protect each daughter with their lives. We are the Cyneward."

"So, you applied for the job and got assigned to Zee?"

Varrick ran a hand over his dark hair. "Not quite. When I say we're called, it's a lot more complicated than getting chosen by some committee to be prom king. I am blood bound to Zelene and her sister for life. They are my only concerns. I live and breathe for them. Because of this magic, and my race, I have certain...gifts, I guess you could say."

"Like what?" Kyle asked with curiosity.

"Well, I'm impossible to kill. Or so we thought until recently.” Varrick cleared his throat, guilt written all over his face as he noticed the confused look on Terrena’s. “Anyway, that's part of the bond. As long as she lives, I live. The Duillaine have the power necessary to kill us, but it is still a very long and drawn out process." He sighed. "Because of my race, I'm stronger than normal, and faster. We're built to be warriors, which is why we're called to be Cynewards."

"Well," Kyle remarked dryly, "I always knew you were a badass. I also know you aren't one for small talk, even if you do feel sorry for me. So why are you telling me this?"

"You always were too smart for your own good. As I said, usually there is one Cyneward charged to one daughter. With the Prophecy, this time things worked a little different. Never before have we had to deal with twins like Zelene and Ariana before. There was still just one Cyneward, but two of them. This made things...difficult. I couldn't keep them together because it wasn't safe, but I had to keep an eye on them. Things became even more difficult when Zelene was placed in the foster care system, and I was deemed an unworthy guardian by the courts."

Terrena didn’t understand the Cyneward’s meaning. Surely he couldn’t mean that Zelene had fallen from his direct care at some point. The Cynewards were meant to protect their wards at all costs and remain by their sides in order to do so. They were silent guardians, but always nearby nonetheless.

Kyle beamed proudly. "Yeah, but that guy got what was coming to him. Zelene felt safer knowing you wouldn't let anyone hurt her again."

The warrior sighed. "But I had to. In this world, if anyone hurt my charge, I would be well within my rights to kill them. In your world, I had to play by the rules or end up in jail. Then I wouldn't be able to look out for either of them. Which is where you came in."

"What do you mean?"

"Knowing she had you there with her brought me comfort. It helped me sleep at night because I saw in you the same thing I feel within myself concerning Zelene: the fierce need to protect her no matter what the cost to myself. You proved you are willing to put her life before yours, which any Cyneward would tell you is the first of our duties. I respect you as if you were one of my own kind, which is not a compliment I would give to many."

Kyle swallowed hard, overcome with the honor Varrick's words held. "Thank you. That means a lot coming from you. I always looked up to you, you know."

V
arrick lifted a shoulder smugly. "Of course you did. Like you said, I'm a badass. I should let you get some rest." He started to leave, but turned back to him. "I don't feel sorry for you. I feel proud of you. I know you'll get better and go back to your world and make a great life for yourself. What's there to feel sorry for?"

"Varrick," Kyle
called out to stop the man, licking his lips nervously. "What, uh, what if I stuck around? I mean, if I get better, I could help. Right? Maybe you could train me to be a badass like you."

The Cyneward’s
eyes softened as he took a step forward. "I don't think that's wise, Kyle. There's no amount of training to help you go up against someone here with their powers and survive. And there's no chance of you developing any powers like theirs because you're from Dhara. I respect that you want to fight, but you would be no match for someone with magic, and it wouldn't be fair for you to throw your life away."

"I understand," Kyle said, nodding slowly as Terrena read the disappointment on the boy’s face. "I should get some rest."

Varrick patted his arm before leaving the room, and Terrena chased after him.

“Varrick,” she called.

“Yes, Ainnir Terrena. How may I be of service to you?” He bowed his head, but his gaze flickered around as if he was afraid someone might see him conversing with her.

Terrena could understand why, even if she disagreed with it. “What did you mean before? When you said you only
thought
a Cyneward could not be killed before their ward perished?”

Varrick
drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I cannot speak to you of these matters, Ainnir Terrena. That is for the Duillaine. Forgive me, but I risk enough by speaking to you at all.”

“I understand,” she said softly. “You may go, of course. Thank you.”

 

***

 

Rhaya stood in th
e center of a massive room lit with torches, which appeared to be a combat training room of sorts. Medieval-looking weapons lined the walls and dummies made from wool sacks and straw stood opposite the door. A very familiar looking young man was currently swinging a sword around one of them.

"I wondered when you would show
up again," she said as she marched over to her mysterious friend from Dhara.

Tate turned around and offered her a full watt grin. "Here I thought you would be searching all of Anscombe for me." He clamped a hand over his heart with dramatic flourish edged with playful sarcasm. "I'm heart broken, Rhaya."

She snickered in response, happy to see him again. Her encounters with Tate had helped to prepare her for what was ahead, which she was extremely grateful for. She couldn’t imagine being side-swiped by it all, like Zelene. "Playing hard to get, are you?"

He turned the force of his smoldering eyes on her. "Oh, I can play easy if you'd like."

She cocked her head to the side, her mouth hanging open. He was flirting with her, but she could tell he wasn't even remotely interested in her romantically. There wasn't a sign of love or lust or anything coming from him. She gave him a playful shove. "You are such a big flirt. You're hitting on me, and I know you wouldn't even follow through."

He
waggled a finger at her. "There's that gift of yours again. Ruining all my fun. I like the new look," he said and gestured to her outfit.

Rhaya scrunched her mouth, pulling at the outfit she had picked out for the day. She had grown tired of the elaborate dresses the donnfay kept picking out for her, and after a lot of debating she had finally convinced them to let her dress herself. Today she had chosen a black chemise with a jagged hem line much akin to something a Flintstones character would wear underneath a bright blue cincher attached to an angled skirt of the same style, giving a layered look to her outfit as the skirt hung around her thighs. She had found a pair of
knee-high black boots, though, as short as she was, she wished they had more of a heel to them.

"You're one to talk with your leather pants," she retorted.

"Speaking of pants, I'm pretty sure you're supposed to be wearing some with your outfit," he said as he made a point of looking her up and down with the kind of admiration Raemann most certainly would have killed him for.

She shrugged as if that didn't matter and draped her arm over the dummy he had just been assaulting. "I like it better without pants. So why were you sent to keep an eye on us? I mean, I understand the Cynewards, but what was your job?"

He used the bottom of his cream-colored tunic to wipe the sweat from his face. "My job was to keep an eye on any gifts or powers that might start manifesting and see if I could subtly guide you in your use of them. Help you to blend in with them in Dhara rather than stand out."

"So why were you picked for the job?" she asked as she took the sword from him and tested its weight in her own hands. "Because you could blend into our lives well?"

"Partially," he answered and corrected her grip, shifting her hands to where one was below the other on the hilt. "The other reason is because my family studies Dhara. My mother lives there; only comes back to report just like I did.”

“Certainly explains why you missed so much work at the bookstore.”

“Pfft...I could’ve kept that job if you hadn’t pointed that out to Raemann. Several times. He had to fire me so you wouldn’t get too suspicious.”

“How was I supposed to know you two were in cahoo
ts? I’m an empath, not psychic,” she quipped. Rhaya put her hands on her hips and looked around the room. She didn’t like the look of all the weapons surrounding them. Their meeting in the training room seemed to imply that they might be learning how to use those weapons soon, and Rhaya was not at all ready for that. Sure, there was a war going on, but she hoped the Duillaine would at least come say hi before teaching them how to kill people they knew nothing about. “What are we doing here, anyway?”

“The Duillaine are busy trying to find out what happened to you guys and what to do with you now, so I’m here to give you some answers. To introduce you to our world.”

Rhaya’s tense shoulders relaxed, and she grabbed a chair from the other side of the room and plopped it down. “Great. Let’s get started.”

He rolled his eyes and retrieved a chair for himself. “Not yet. I’m not exactly keen on the idea of repeating myself, so we’re going to wait on Zelene. I sent Nolan to get her.”

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