Heritage: Book Three of the Grimoire Saga (33 page)

Braeden took a deep breath, but pain splintered through his torso. He examined his chest. A two-foot wound split him open at a diagonal from his shoulder to hip. His muscles tensed. He lay back and set his hands on his wound, conjuring what few healing techniques he knew. He’d never had to heal himself before. He didn’t know if anything could heal a Sartori wound, but he had to try.

His palms glowed white as he focused on the blood seeping from him. He channeled what little energy remained into healing himself. The energy slipped from his fingers, but the wound continued to grow. The skin around the edges of the cut dissolved away as though burned by acid. Panic bubbled through him. Another surge of adrenaline rocked him to the core, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t even heal himself—something he had never failed to do.

Iyra twitched beside him. She whimpered and curled around herself, her silver claws glinting in the murky sunlight pouring in from above. Her body shook as she woke. Her head hung low as she blinked, eyes unfocused.

“Iyra,” Braeden called. His cry for help came out like a gasp.

Her head snapped around. Her eyes slipped into focus. She shot to her feet, only to wobble and sink to her knees. She slid the final few feet between them and nudged his neck with her nose.

Why aren’t you healing?
she asked.

He licked his lips, trying to muster the energy to respond, but nothing came out. Even his thoughts were too fuzzy to control. His mind wandered over the smoke and the soldier’s attack. He hoped she would make sense of his loose thoughts.

She growled at the image of the assassin.

We have to get you out of here, Braeden.

He nodded and sank back against the ground.

Boots crunched again along the forest floor. Braeden glanced around, trying to see who was walking closer. Gavin’s tattered shirt came into view, followed by the Blood’s face. Black blood stained his jaw, evidence of the soldiers he must have killed.

The Sartori glinted from its place at Gavin’s side. The Blood still wielded his newfound weapon. He stared at Braeden with the subtlest of smirks. His fist tightened around the Sartori’s hilt.

Gavin nodded to Braeden’s chest. “I could let you die, you know.”

Braeden didn’t respond.

Gavin continued. “I could finally be done with you and your wretched race. They knew you were here, Braeden. All along. These soldiers are unlike any I’ve ever fought or seen. They were elite. Your father sent them to kill you. Why do you want anything to do with this world? I would be doing you and Ourea a favor if I let you die.”

Iyra growled and shifted her weight. Her legs buckled as she fought to stand.

“I have no problem killing your pet either, Braeden,” Gavin snapped.

“Iyra, stop,” Braeden said. She couldn’t protect them. She needed to reserve her strength in case she had to escape to save herself.

She whimpered again, frozen in place, but eventually slid back down beside him. She nudged his shoulder and let out a low growl.

“Kara would kill you,” Braeden said.

“She would try.”

Braeden laughed and closed his eyes. “Tell her I’ll wait for her, then.”

Gavin hesitated. “Just like that? You give up?”

“I enjoy life, but I’m out of options. You’re too blinded by hatred to see reason anymore.”

Warmth pooled near Braeden’s side even as ice sank deeper into his core from the wound. It couldn’t end like this. Not here. Not on some nameless trail in the middle of the Stele. Especially not at Gavin’s mercy. Braeden couldn’t die this way, but he had no other options. His body stiffened.

“If I heal you, what will you do?” Gavin asked.

Braeden couldn’t open his eyes anymore. His voice came out in a whisper. “Punch you in the face for waiting this long.”

Gavin laughed. “You’re making this difficult, Braeden. I need to trust you.”

“You don’t. You never will.”

A breeze rushed through the canopy. The clapping of leaves drowned out all other sound. The last of Braeden’s warmth left him. Pebbles in the dirt trail dug into his back, all the more painful because he couldn’t move to brush them away. Braeden sucked in a breath, but it barely filled his lungs.

“Please, Gavin,” he said.

Cloth rustled beside him. Someone sighed. A blade cut into skin, though Braeden couldn’t tell if it was his or not. He couldn’t feel his body anymore. Liquid trickled over steel. Drops of something fell into the grass. Iyra sighed—in happiness or resignation, Braeden couldn’t tell.

Relief flooded through Braeden’s gut. Gratitude and a hint of warmth followed, melting his icy core. Someone lifted him. He settled against something solid, and the last of his energy faded. He resigned himself to the peace of the moment. He had no say anymore.

If he survived, he would never again let Kara out of his sight. If he didn’t, he would wait for her with Death until she followed him. He should have never let her leave.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

CONSEQUENCES

Gray mist enveloped Kara. She glanced around, but the world had a white sheen to it. She tried to make sense of where she was, or why she was there, or perhaps the time, but nothing made sense. She shuddered and rubbed her arms, even though she hadn’t felt a chill.

A hot breath rolled down her neck. Someone approached her from behind.

She spun. A tall man stood perfectly still not two feet away. She gasped and covered her mouth with a hand. His features blurred and sharpened, as if she stared at him through a camera that wouldn’t focus. Olive skin. Black hair. A charming smile.

Braeden.

She hugged him. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

“I think I did something terrible,” she whispered into his chest.

He didn’t answer. His chest didn’t move—was he holding his breath?

Panic raced through Kara. Her fingers went numb. “I remember cornering Carden against that wire dome. He couldn’t move. He looked broken—I was going to kill him, Braeden, and I was happy about it. But something went wrong. I lost control and...and I really think I did something horrible.”

A hand cupped the back of her head, but he still didn’t say anything. He still didn’t breathe. Kara leaned back so that she could see his face. He smiled.

She took a step back. Her body shook with fear, anger, and a remorse she didn’t understand. “I lost control, Braeden! What if you’d come with me after all? What if you’d gotten in the way? What if an innocent person had gotten in my way back there? I’m afraid—I’m terrified that I would have killed anyone I came across, even you! I’m scared to even have that much power!”

Instead of saying something helpful, he leaned in and kissed her nose.

Kara gasped herself awake.

Awake—that had been a dream? She glanced around, trying to make sense of her surroundings. Red sofa arm. Pillow under her head. Blanket up to her shoulders. Big ball of blurry fur blocking her view of about everything else.

Flick licked her nose in the same spot Braeden had kissed her in her dream. She leaned back, pressing her head into the sofa until her pet came into view. He purred and blinked those massive eyes of his.

Someone let out a deep sigh of relief. “Bloods, thank goodness. You’re all right.”

Kara rose to lean on her arm and get a better look at the room. Gurien sat in a chair by the stone wall, his hands on his thighs, elbows out. His wings blocked a fair bit of the wall behind him. He took another deep breath. Shadows played along his face because of the low light, but the bags under his eyes had a darker tint than before the attack. He probably hadn’t slept this whole time.

The aromas of sweet bread and the salty sting of jerky drifted by. Kara’s stomach rumbled. A plate of rolls, cheese, and dried meat lay on a small table in front of her. She grabbed a roll and took a bite, relief coursing through her.

“Thank you for the food,” she mumbled between bites.

Gurien just nodded.

Kara’s head throbbed with every movement, so she tried to remain still as she canvassed the rest of the room. Light flickered from only a few candles along the wall. Most of the room lay in a dark shadow, but from the sofa and layout, Kara guessed she was in the same place where she’d left Aurora earlier. Her wrist guard once more clung to her.

“Did you put this back on me?” she asked.

Gurien nodded. “I noticed you holding it before you attacked Carden. It seemed important.”

“It is. What happened?” Kara’s eyes stung. She rubbed them.

“That’s a question Aurora should answer, not me,” Gurien said.

Kara hesitated. Either Gurien didn’t know what happened, or he refused to tell her. Bad sign.

She pushed herself upright. “Okay, then. How long was I out?”

“Two days.”

“Two—seriously?” She cursed under her breath. She had a day left before she needed to meet Braeden back at Ayavel.

“I’d begun to fear you weren’t going to make it. You used an obscene amount of energy in that last attack and hit your head against a stone wall. We didn’t know which hurt you more.”

Kara’s head throbbed again. She rubbed the ache only to find a bandage wrapped from her neck to her forehead. She ran her fingers along the linen, thankful they hadn’t used something itchy. She hadn’t even realized she wore a bandage at all.

“Is Aurora okay?” she asked.

A broad smile broke over the exhausted General’s face. “Quite. Thanks to you.”

“I left her alone even though you told me to protect her. I figured you would be furious.”

He shook his head. “You chased off Carden when I failed to protect our home. If he had stayed, he would have eventually found her.”

Gurien had a point. Kara had succeeded where Gurien had failed. She should be brimming with pride and joy that it was over, but regret swam in her gut instead. Her stomach churned, and her appetite dissolved.

“If I did something great, why do I feel so terrible?” she asked.

Gurien’s smile fell. “How much do you remember?”

Kara stared at the floor and tried her best to recall everything. Flick jumped into her lap and curled into a purring ball. She ran a hand over his back.

“Last thing I remember is losing control of my final attack. Well, and then you carrying me someplace. Here, I guess.”

He nodded. “I was afraid of that.”

“Why can’t you tell me what happened?”

“It’s Aurora’s duty, not mine. Can you walk? I’ll take you to her.”

Kara set one bare foot on the floor. Flick jumped out of her lap. The long rip in her dress gave her free movement. The soft fabric soothed her skin. With one hand on the sofa’s arm, she slowly pushed herself to her feet. Her arm shook. Blood rushed from her head. She swayed.

Gurien shot to his feet and grabbed her elbows. Kara steadied.

“Thanks,” she said.

He nodded and let go. After a few tentative steps, Kara regained her sense of balance. She gestured toward a wall, hoping it was the one with the hidden door.

“Lead the way, General.”

With Flick on her shoulder, Kara followed Gurien through twisting hallways until they stepped out of the castle. Aurora stood by a granite wall. A sizeable chunk of the bricks had been blown to bits. Several of the stones lay in the grass nearby.

The wire dome protecting the palace had a hole twice the size of Kara. The impenetrable metal strands curled outward into the sky, but most of it had simply gone missing. Ditto for the wire in the second dome.

Kara couldn’t speak as she neared the new Blood. She simply stared at the hole, keeping her distance from the edge. Clouds tumbled by. A sheer cliff of gray rock lay just below the wall. A hundred feet down, a thin road curled around the cliff on a ledge. A few buildings separated the road from the second dome’s wire mesh.

Something caught in Kara’s throat—that familiar guilt.

She opened her mouth to ask a burning question just as the clouds separated to reveal the village below. Half the rooftops lay in rubble. A charred circle covered most of the village visible through the clouds. Kara’s question died in her throat.