Heritage: Book Three of the Grimoire Saga (28 page)

Remy—Kirelm

Kara has arrived on the outskirts of Kirelm. General Gurien has been sent alone to fetch her. She should summon a mount and be ready to leave.

That isen hunter was so controlling.

Kara mumbled under her breath and summoned the Grimoire’s griffon—an ancient creature that used to belong to Kirelm. It had taken a liking to the first Vagabond and now lived in the Grimoire, serving those who needed it. Ithone hadn’t liked that very much, but she figured a griffon was a more welcome sight than her demonic black dragon.

Silver dust sprang from the book in her hands, twisting into a small tornado. It touched down on the grass beside her and spread, blocking out the forest behind it until the funnel took on the towering shape of her griffon. With a
poof,
the dust dissolved into the white feathers and gold fur of her pet. It tilted its head, black eyes locked on her as it nudged her shoulder in welcome.

She patted its head. “Hey, buddy.”

Kara sat back against a tree and gazed into the clear sky while the griffon stared off into the distance. Though the storm still brewed miles away, no clouds dotted the blue sky over the cliff. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the late summer air. She didn’t even know what day it was—or what month. It didn’t really matter anymore.

“Vagabond,” a man said.

Flick purred. Kara peeked through one eye to see General Gurien standing about ten feet away. He arched his back, shoulders broad and proud as ever. His white wings framed his body, the glowing feathers reflecting sunlight into Kara’s eyes. She squinted. Heavy bags lined his eyes, purple and several layers deep.

Kara frowned. “You look exhausted, General.”

He nodded. “It has been a trying time.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

He shrugged. “Blood Ithone and Heir Aurora can’t stand each other anymore. Two hot-tempered royals are hard to handle.”

She sighed. “This will be fun.”

“We should leave. You have a meeting with Blood Ithone this evening.”

Kara nodded and stood. The griffon knelt for her to get on, so she swung her leg over without another word. The creature stood, and Gurien took off into the air. Her griffon followed. Flick purred louder in her ear.

She and Gurien traveled in silence, and Kara let her mount follow Gurien’s twists and turns. She didn’t even pay attention to their path. Last time she tried, they had flown for what seemed like forever. She’d lost all track of time around the same time her body went numb from the windchill.

As the wind whistled past her ear, she took slow breaths to calm her nerves. She would have ten minutes to convince Ithone to forgive Braeden and return to the alliance. Probably more like five minutes, really. She doubted Ithone had become any more patient since he’d come home. He would probably rush the meeting. She doubted he would actually listen, either. Maybe she should try to find him sooner and speak with him alone.

Gurien angled to the right. It would be great to talk to the general and get his advice. Braeden trusted him now, which meant the Kirelm soldier had to be a good person. But she just couldn’t trust him with the knowledge that she had vagabonds inside Kirelm. He was, after all, under Ithone’s control. He may even still be loyal to his Blood, regardless of that power. She couldn’t risk it.

Light glinted off something in the distance. A spire broke through the clouds as they neared. A second followed, as did a third. Within seconds, dozens of silver towers emerged from behind tufts of pink cloud.

Either they took a shortcut this time, or her griffon was much faster than she’d thought. She lost herself to her thoughts, but that couldn’t account for how quickly they arrived.

The kingdom hadn’t changed from her first visit. A towering wall surrounded the outer edges of the city, a mesh of wires branching from the wall to create a thin dome that arched over the entire kingdom. A gate opened to welcome them, even though they were still about a hundred feet away. A second wall and gate protected the castle and the nicest homes in the city. She could barely make out the dwellings within this inner wall, but the castle spires dominated the floating landscape. A second wire mesh dome encompassed this section as well.

The first gate neared at an alarming rate. Adrenaline shot through Kara’s veins in bursts that dried her throat. She held her breath. Gurien dove through the opening, and Kara’s griffon followed close on his heels. They tore through the streets, the city’s gray buildings a blur in Kara’s peripheral vision.

The second gate neared within seconds, its panels swinging open only a moment before Gurien and Kara reached it. The general and the griffon leaned into a turn, following the paved bricks of a road as the street sloped upward toward the castle’s main doors.

Gurien slowed and landed on the front steps with practiced ease. The griffon followed suit, its claws scraping the stone road as it touched down. Flick’s nails dug a little deeper into Kara’s shoulder after the landing, and she almost nodded in agreement. She couldn’t quite relax after such a fast-paced entrance, either.

Kara’s knees shook from the adrenaline still pumping through her, but she forced herself to dismount. Time was not on her side.

She patted her griffon’s neck, wishing it away with a whisper. With another
poof
, the creature dissolved into dust. Though the silver haze settled on the air, she took comfort knowing her pet had actually returned to her Grimoire. She could summon him again any time.

Gurien trotted up the steps, back arched like a king. Ten soldiers lined the steps, one to each stair. Every man saluted the general as he passed and held the salute as she followed him inside.

She and Gurien walked through the castle’s hallways at a pace that left her out of breath. She resisted the constant urges to gasp for air and instead forced herself to focus on the path Gurien took. If she needed to escape, she would at least know the way out—whatever good that would do her, considering the guards at the entrance.

“You have two hours until your meeting with Blood Ithone,” Gurien eventually said.

His voice came out even, as if this was his usual pace. It made Kara want to gasp for breath even more.

He continued. “A change of clothes has been provided, and a hot bath is waiting. Please be ready in an hour. Food will be sent up, then, and you can ask me questions while we wait for the summoning.”

Kara nodded. She wouldn’t turn down an opportunity to interrogate someone who knew as much as Gurien. She would have to think of a clever way to ask him about the kidnapping without him realizing she knew about it.

Gurien stopped in the hall, feet planted on the carpeted floor. Kara nearly ran into him. She slid a little on the rug but managed to stop in time.

He twisted the handle on a door to his left. It swung inward. Light splintered through the drawn curtains of a window, casting rays of sunlight onto a wooden bed with a white comforter. A matching wooden desk sat by the window, and a similar dresser filled much of the opposite wall. A white bathtub peeked through a partially opened door to the right.

Most notably, a silver dress lay across the bed. The iridescent fabric glittered in a sunbeam from the window.

“Hear me out, Vagabond,” Gurien said.

Kara sighed. This again. The last time she visited, they insisted she wear a dress because she was a woman. Aurora warned her that the dress would undermine Kara’s power—all Ithone and his generals would see was a little girl with a book, not the powerful Vagabond she was. She had refused to wear it, forcing Gurien to compromise and give her something else. Not wearing that dress had probably been the spark that ruined her reputation in Kirelm and cost her any respect they might have otherwise shown.

She wouldn’t make that mistake twice.

“It’s fine, Gurien,” she said.

“What? Really? You’ll wear it?”

She nodded. “I apologize for making a fuss last time. It was rude.”

His eyebrows furrowed, and his lips parted in shock. Kara grinned.

“Thank you,” he eventually said.

“You’re welcome. I should probably get ready.”

“Of course. Please leave your old clothes on the bed. A maid will wash them for you so they’re clean when you leave.”

Kara just nodded again. He knew as well as she did there were no plans to let her leave. Her clothes would probably be burned.

“Thank you so much,” he said with a sigh. It came out slow and steady, like a breath of relief.

He left, and the door shut without another moment’s hesitation. He probably didn’t want to give her a chance to change her mind.

Kara approached the dress to get a better look. Before she could pick it up, though, Flick jumped down onto the bed and curled up on a pillow.

She sighed and headed to the bathroom. She should just get ready. She couldn’t afford Ithone hating her, so she had to play nice. Staring at the dress would only make her question her choice.

Forty minutes later, Kara sat on the bed with Flick in her lap. He purred as she ran her fingers through his fur. She’d bathed, dressed, and even fiddled with her hair for ten minutes before giving up and letting it flow over her shoulders.

As requested, she left her clothes on the bed before she took her bath. And sure enough, they were gone when she came out. At least they left her satchel, though they probably rifled through it during her bath. It was a painfully obvious way to control her, but she wanted to oblige. Good faith and all.

As much as she hated to admit it, the dress flattered her in every way. Its low neckline plunged a little farther than she would have liked, but it showcased her necklaces nicely. She still wore both pieces: her Grimoire pendant and the necklace Aurora gave her all those weeks ago. The dress caressed her skin like silk, but the fabric stretched and shrank as needed. A slit in the skirt exposed her left leg up to the thigh when she sat, so she might have to stand when Gurien finally came back.

A few men yelled from the grass outside. Their voices blurred together, muffled by the closed window. She shifted Flick into her arms and peeked through the curtains. Kirelms ran by on the road a few stories below. Some shouted orders, others saluted.

Something boomed in the distance. Its shattering echo reminded Kara of thunder—or maybe a bomb.

Heavy footsteps ran through the hallway just outside her door. More Kirelms shouted, their voices louder as they passed her room.

Kara took a deep breath. This couldn’t be good.

She set Flick on her shoulder and ran to the door. Another surge of adrenaline pumped through her and pulsed in her fingers. Something had gone wrong, and for once it had nothing to do with her. If it did, they would be surrounding her room, and she would probably already be in chains.

She twisted the handle and flung her door open. Soldiers ran by, racing for a staircase on the far end of the hallway.

“What’s going on?” she asked the passing horde.

No one paused to explain. They stared ahead, all of them focused on something else. Their mouths became hard lines on their faces, eyebrows drawn with tension. Many had weapons—drawn swords, bows and arrows—but none of them stopped long enough to answer her.

A shadow passed over the thin light coming through the closed drapes blocking her window. Kara ran to throw the curtains open. Fabric ripped under her fingers. On the horizon, a thin streak of darkness crept toward the castle. She hesitated, trying to make sense of the black mist as it neared. It could be the storm she saw earlier, but that wouldn’t explain the call to arms or the flood of soldiers ignoring the guest they were supposed to kidnap.

Within the approaching darkness, the outline of a winged creature bled into view. Its wings pushed against the air, propelling the figure forward. The silhouette grew larger by the second. More figures appeared, one after the other, until the first drew close enough to see.

A black dragon rode at the head of the shadow on the horizon, a man on its back. Steam rolled from the man’s arms. He wore no helmet, so Kara could easily make out his charcoal-gray skin. A symbol covered most of his black shirt: a square of silver thorns held together by four swords.

The Stelian coat of arms.

Carden. Carden found them. A cold rush of panic crept clear down to Kara’s toes. She would be caught in the middle of a battle between two kings who wanted her in chains. And of all things, she had to wear a dress that limited her movement. How completely useless.