Heir of Thunder (Stormbourne Chronicles Book 1) (23 page)

I woke in a strange bed to the low light of early morning,
not certain how I had arrived there. I sat up, rubbing my eyes and recognized
the blue room in Ruelle Thibodaux’s house. Jackie had left in a furious huff
the night before, and Thibodaux had confined me to the room for the rest of the
night.

Somehow, someone sensed my wakefulness and knocked at the
door.

“Go away,” I said, averse to the idea of company.

“Madame, I have brought you tea and a bit of breakfast.” It
was Martin, speaking in a soft voice on the other side of the door. “Monsieur
requests your presence in his study when you have finished dressing.”

“I don’t bow to his requests,” I said after opening the door
to the inoffensive butler. “Tell him I said to let me go.”

Martin strode into the room. “You barely ate a thing last
night. You must be starving. I’ll just leave this here for you, in case you
change your mind.” He set the tray on a table in the sitting area, spun on his
heel, and marched out.

Once again, curiosity won over stubbornness. I wanted
answers, and I wanted freedom, even if it meant I had to deign to meet
Thibodaux’s demands. The appetite I had lost the night before returned in full,
and Martin’s breakfast tray called to me. I sat down and considered the hot
tea, soft-boiled egg, bread and jam.

The bread was something unfamiliar—a thick roll shaped into
a crescent made of dozens of flaky layers. I broke it open and smeared it with
clotted cream and jam. I finished the meal by licking my finger and dabbing it
on the stray crumbs sprinkled across my plate—a delicate porcelain dish painted
with elegant pink roses.

It made a terrific crash when I slung it into the wall. I
celebrated the plate’s demise by destroying a dainty teacup. Thibodaux’s shrill
voice called up from the bottom of the stairway as I drew my arm back to fling
the teapot into the mix.

“Stormbourne! Break another dish and I’ll take it out of
your hide.”

“Why are you keeping me here?” I yelled back. “Jackie said
it himself. There’s nothing left of my kingdom. You can’t even ransom me.”

He laughed, and it sounded like a delighted child. “We don’t
want money, little girl. We have all of that we need.”

“
We
, who? This Le Poing Fermé
you are all so
mad about? It’s because of some secret society that you’re holding me here? My
abilities are of no use to you. They aren’t born of earthly Magic.”

“Once Faercourt has finished with you, there will be nothing
useful left. You’re right about that.”

A righteous anger brewed in my chest. I let it expand until
it passed the barriers of bone and skin and filled the stairwell. The gas light
wall sconces flickered and went out. “I told Jackie I’ll have no part in his
scheme.”

Thibodaux laughed again and made a sound that sounded as
though he had snapped his fingers. The wall sconces relit themselves. “You’ll
have no choice.”

“What’s in it for you? Why are you helping him?”

“Miss Stormbourne, please. Let’s not shout back and forth at
each other like this. Join me in my study, and we’ll discuss this as adults. I
believe, though I have little proof, that you can be reasoned with.”

I still wore the dressing gown the maid had laid out for me
some time before I woke. I didn’t want to wear any more of the hand-me-down
clothes that smelled dank from the passage of time, but my Fantazike skirts and
riding boots had gone by the wayside, no doubt discarded at Thibodaux’s command.

“I’ll be down in a moment,” I answered and slammed the door,
simply for the satisfaction of making my captor cringe.

I found a plain day dress with less lace and flounce than
the others, and the maid arrived in time to help me into it. She fussed over my
hair, but I shewed her away and settled for weaving it into its usual braid.
Downstairs, Thibodaux waited for me in his study, a room much like the parlor,
but with an impressive collection of books. Leather-bound tomes lined his
shelves. I wanted to read their titles, but I doubted he had the patience for that.

He sat in a leather chair embellished with brass tacks. He
motioned for me to take a seat on a smaller, velvet chair nearby. Between us, a
low table held a tray with more of the delectable rolls, but the scent from the
pot next to the rolls did not make me think of tea.

“Is that coffee?” I asked, sniffing.

“It is Kopi Luwak,” Thibodaux answered. “Have some.”

“I’ve never hear of it.” But it
smelled
like coffee,
so I held out my cup and Thibodaux poured.

“It is coffee, in a sense, made from beans that have been
digested by and passed through the belly of a cat-like creature called a civet.”

I let the mouthful I had just taken dribble back into the
cup. “Digested and...
passed through
?”

“Something in the little creature’s belly takes away all the
bitterness of a standard coffee bean. Delightful isn’t it?”

He was right that the coffee had a sweeter flavor than usual,
but I had no desire to test it again. Instead, I filled my hands with another
of the flaky rolls.

“Miss Stormbourne, you are the last of an extinct race. The
ancient gods all died away years ago. How your family has managed to stay in
power so far past its prime is a spectacular feat.”

“Inselgrau is a small island with a devout population,” I
said. “They have loved us for a long time.”

“Indeed. I think their enduring loyalty has much to do with
it, but this is a new age, my dear.”

“So, why not let me fade away in peace?” I bit into the roll
and savored its buttery taste.

Thibodaux swallowed his coffee in haste, almost choking on
it. “
Oh-ho
, but my dear, this is where we define our purpose. We only
want to preserve what is about to be lost.”

“And use it for your own gains.”

He smiled, his eyes creasing into barely visible slits. “That
doesn’t have to be as horrible as you make it sound.”

“How do you even know it will work? If my powers are as
diluted as everyone believes, then any child borne of me should gain even less.”

He set his coffee cup on the table and scooted his massive
frame to the edge of his seat. “You know those outrageous airships flown by
your Fantazikes, and how that enormous sack of air keeps everything afloat?”

“Of course,” I said, wondering about his non-sequitur.

“You’ve traveled with them a while. Have you ever seen those
sacks void of air?”

“I have.” But only once. Refilling the balloon required a
tremendous amount of energy, and the lifting gasses were rare and expensive.
The Fantazikes only deflated the air sack for absolutely necessary repairs.

“Your power is something like one of those deflated
balloons. The material is massive, its potential is great, but without the
energy to fill it, it has little purpose. The faith of your people has kept
your air sack full, but as their faith dwindles, so does your ability to stay
afloat. What Le Poing Fermé can offer is to refill your balloon again so that
you float as high as your forefathers once did. With Le Poing Fermé, you no
longer have to rely on the faith of fickle believers.

“You should not shun what Faercourt can offer you, child.
His Magic is not merely academics. It’s like singing or playing a musical
instrument. Anyone can attempt it, but only those born with innate ability can
do something amazing with it.”

“And Jackie has innate ability?” I asked.

Thibodaux closed his eyes, leaned back in his chair, and
smiled. His delight seemed sublime. “Jonathan Faercourt is a virtuoso. He was
borne to Magic and it to him. His abilities can make you great, but mix his
talents and your godhood into a child....”

Thibodaux opened his eyes and sipped again from his cup. He
swirled the coffee around his mouth before swallowing. “Evelyn, it would be as
if those Fantazikes had created flight itself instead of a bumbling, clumsy
imitation. Your child could fill his own balloons. He would never be dependent
on the faith of others again.”

I sank back into my chair, despair filling me like a million
lead pellets. “How you even know that your scheme would work is beyond me, but
if this could be done, how could you expect to control it? The Stormbournes’
powers were limited by the people we ruled. The creature of which you speak
would have no such check on its power.”

“The child would have you for its mother. Do not
underestimate the maternal influence.”

“I wouldn’t know,” I said coldly. “I don’t remember my
mother.”

He nodded and folded his hands over his belly. “I understand
your reservations. They are well conceived.”

“What do
you
hope to achieve with this?” For Jackie,
I believed it had as much to do with his ego as anything, but for the other
members of this cabal, I needed further explanation.

He swirled his hand in a vague gesture. “The possibilities
are endless, my dear.”

“Absolute power,” I said.

“A better world.”

“Forgive me for not believing your motives so virtuous.”

Thibodaux giggled and the fine hairs rose on the back of my
neck. I would never get used to the sound of a large, grown man laughing like a
young girl. “Our reasons are our reasons. Your consent is not necessary. Just
as Le Poing Fermé can energize and re-inflate your powers, it can also act as
vacuum to draw it all away.”

Then I must escape
. My eyes flitted to the hallway,
but Thibodaux followed my gaze and understood my thoughts.

“Try it,” he said. “Do you think I could catch you? You
could be out the door and halfway down the street before I could push myself to
my feet.”

There was a catch, I sensed it, but I would never know what
it was if I didn’t try. I was on my feet, running, before I could change my
mind. In one breath I had dashed through the study doorway and into the hall.
In the next, I was on the floor, inches from the front door, a blinding pain
searing through my head.

I couldn’t move.

I couldn’t see.

I couldn’t think.

The world went dark.

***

A midday sun streamed through the window in the blue bedroom
when I finally awoke. I didn’t know what Thibodaux had done to me, but I would
do most anything to never experience that kind of pain again. Anything except
give him the unnatural creation he and Jackie so desired. But, with Thibodaux’s
capacity to turn me into a quivering, lifeless mass without moving a finger,
how could I resist?

“Can you do that to me as well, hurt me like Thibodaux?” I
asked.

Jackie had joined me in the garden after an intimate dinner
at Thibodaux’s house, no crowds, only the two of us. We sat side-by-side on the
same little bench we had shared the night before.

“I hope that it wouldn’t come to that,” he said. “I hope
that you would come to me willingly.”

“But I barely know you, and I know I’ll never trust you.”

His pale face flushed. He was so lovely, and yet so
terrifying. “You liked me once,” he said.

“It was all a lie. Both of us, lying to each other.”

“Not by much. Connolly really is my home. Cicely really is
my sister, and she really lives here in Pecia with our aunt.”

“Did you really take Nonnie and Gespenst to your stables?”

He smiled and it lit his strange eyes. “Yes, I did.”

“I want to believe your intentions are virtuous, Jackie, but
I can’t believe anything good can come of this.”

“You say that now, but give it time.”

“You’re holding me here against my will. Are you going to
keep me here forever?”

He exhaled and let his shoulders slump. “No. Only until your
eighteenth birthday.”

“What happens then?”

“That’s when you’ll receive your full birthright. When you
come fully into your power. You can only bestow your birthright to an heir
after you have received it for yourself.”

“I know all this, but how do
you
know it?”

“Magicians have been in the courts of the gods since the
beginning. Their knowledge has been passed down for centuries.”

“Will I be too powerful for you to hold me then, is that
what you mean?”

“Hardly,” Jackie laughed. “But then you’ll be my
responsibility alone. I’ll take you away from here. Maybe back to Connolly.”

“Your responsibility? How is that?”

“Because, on your birthday, you’ll become my wife.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. “I won’t marry you.”

“Your permission is not necessary, though I would prefer it.”
His hand cupped my cheek. I moved to push it away, but his eyes flashed, and I
hesitated. “There’s no one else in the world more suitable for me than you. I
hope you’ll come to realize that. I desire you, Evelyn. I want to possess you,
and I will have my way.”

He rose to his feet. “A month from this night is your
birthday, and on that day we will be married. I hope that as soon as nine
months from that day, we will bring our child into this world.”

I could say nothing in protest or defense. Too much loathing
and disgust clogged my throat.

It won’t happen
, I vowed.
I’ll find a way to
escape. I must
.

***

Jackie tried to court me at Thibodaux’s house. He brought me
flowers, sweets, and trinkets. We strolled the garden, but I refused to engage
in his conversation, so we spent much of the time in silence. The number of
distractions available to us was limited without allowing me more freedom, and
neither Jackie nor Thibodaux were willing to risk it.

Several weeks before my birthday, I attempted another
escape, but nothing in the room would shatter the glass in the window, and the
door would not budge. I suspected Le Poing Fermé’s magic kept me trapped. One
day, while Thibodaux was distracted with an unexpected business client in his
study, I made a soundless dash for the door to the garden. I had hoped to
escape through the exterior gate or even over the high brick walls, but my last
memory was of reaching for the gate latch before I woke up in the late evening,
locked back into my plush blue prison with a pounding headache.

Martin and Marie, the maid, checked on me at such frequent
intervals that I suspected they came to ensure I hadn’t attempted to take my
own life. Things were not that desperate, not even when a dressmaker arrived to
take my measurements, and not even when she reappeared for the final fitting of
the gown I was to wear when I wedded Jackie in two weeks’ time.

Perhaps I hadn’t acted with more desperation because I still
denied the inevitability of Jackie’s plans. I had found no alternative, no way
out, but I refused to accept that this was the intended path for me. Justina
had said I would find a way back to my throne.
But not like this. Any way
but this.

***

The morning of my birthday, the dressmaker arrived and
helped me into my gown. She had designed its fit so precisely that she had to
sew me into it. Marie dressed my hair and tried to hide my red, puffy eyes with
makeup, but I cried it off again. At some point, numbness replaced the tears.

Thibodaux expressed his pleasure over my appearance, but
clucked disapproval when he inspected my swollen eyes and red nose. He escorted
me to his carriage, taking the roll that the father should take. Thibodaux and
Jackie had arranged the wedding in a special location, a place that had always
belonged to Le Poing Fermé
,
and it had been a part of every one of their
ceremonies for centuries.

There was no orchestra, exuberant family, or cheering
guests. Instead, Thibodaux led me to a grassy field that encompassed a circle
of stone pillars, each engraved with indeterminable markings. The stones rose
twice as tall as I and were twice as thick around. The standing stones
encircled a flat rock, an altar, and Jackie stood beside it, waiting for me. He
watched me approach and wore the hungry smile of a wolf.

The other members of the cabal weaved through the pillars,
chanting a strange tune in a stranger tongue. They wore dark cloaks and
resembled a parade of wraiths, dancing a dour waltz.

Jackie muttered something in my ear in the same ancient
language his co-conspirators used. Everyone fell silent as he drew a blade from
his black velvet cloak. Before I could jerk away, he pressed the tip against my
index finger and broke the skin. He dribbled my blood over the stone alter. Then
he sliced his own finger and added his blood to mine, using the blade tip to
swirl the droplets together.

“I am the blood of your blood as you are the blood of mine,”
he said. “What has been joined together, today let no one dare untie.”

Jackie circled his arms around me and turned his hungry face
to me. “You are mine now, Evelyn. And no one can take you from me.”

His face shifted from one of a stunning and beautiful man
into a monstrous carnivore who gnashed his teeth as he lunged to devour me.

The clash of those sharp teeth snapped me out of my
nightmare. Instead of standing before an altar at some strange ceremonial site,
I was lying in a bed in Thibodaux’s blue bedroom, alone. No wolves, no cabal,
and no Jackie, either. No wedding dress, no ceremony.

It had all been a horrible dream.

I breathed a sigh of relief. But then the hungry teeth
snapped again, and I yelped and sprang from the bed, hand pressed over my
racing heart.

No toothy beasts appeared, but I did discover a ghost at my
window, tapping furiously at the glass with a chisel and mallet. Another
strange dream? It must have been. How else could I explain the vision of Gideon
perched at my window ledge?

He reared back with the giant mallet and struck the chisel
again. A spider web of cracks crawled across the glass, but the pane held. I
flew to the window and gaped at him. He seemed so real.
But how? How?

“Evie, back away,” said the ghost. “I don’t want the glass
to cut you when it gives.”

“Gideon?” I asked.

He glowered at me oh-so-familiarly, and I backed away. He
reared back and swung the mallet again. The glass lost its battle. The pane
shattered, falling to the ground in knife-sharp shards.

“Put on your boots and come,” he ordered. “
Quickly
!”

I riffled beneath the bed for the Venitzian leather walking
boots I had worn ever since the loss of my favorite old pair. “What’s going on?
How did you find me?”

“No questions. Just move. They’ll be after us any minute.”

I slipped my feet into the boots, but didn’t bother lacing
them before I dashed to the window.

“There’s a rope ladder here,” Gideon said. “Step up on the
window sill and take my hand.”

With a bit of careful maneuvering on my part, and a lot of
brute strength on Gideon’s, we managed to attach me to a rope ladder that, to
my delight, was connected to the bow of the Tippany’s airship.

“Oh, this is the best dream I’ve had in a long time,” I said
as we climbed the swaying ladder.

Before I reached the rail of the ship where Malita, Timony,
and Niffin waited to greet me, Thibodaux’s strange voice called out into the
night, yelling something unintelligible. I looked down to find him peering up
from the shattered window. The familiar pain I had suffered during previous
escape attempts swelled inside me. A haze clouded my vision, and I could not
hold my grip on the ropes.

“Evie, hold on!” Gideon demanded, but my body refused to
obey.

“Evie!” Malita cried from somewhere above me, and I wanted
to try, if only for her, but the blackness in my head was so absolute and
heavy. It might crush my skull if I fought it any longer, so I didn’t.

I gave up.

I let go, and I fell.