Heritage: Book Three of the Grimoire Saga (7 page)

Stone reached into his shirt collar and pulled a chain from around his neck. A pendant slid along the metal, a mirror image of the emblem carved into the rock.

“What—?” she asked.

Stone shouted over the rain. “This house has been sealed for you, Kara, preserved as it was when Agneon left it. This will break the seal.”

Without another word, he pressed the key into the carved lock. Something groaned deep in the mountain. Clicks and hisses fumed from somewhere beneath their feet.

The mountain shook. Kara knelt for balance, but Stone never even flinched. With a boom as loud as thunder, a crack traveled from the lock and wandered in a circle, creating something of an archway in the rock. Kara shot to her feet and shuffled backward, teetering on the edge of the platform. Another gale whipped by, pushing her off balance, but she widened her stance and eyed the growing crack in the cliff.

With a final hiss, the splitting rock shifted and broke away from the mountain. It rolled a few feet to the left and stopped, exposing the tunnel it guarded. The ground stilled, and Kara finally regained her balance. She inspected the new passage, but the low light only illuminated the first few feet of darkness. Stone stepped into the tunnel and hesitated on the threshold. Kara followed.

Steam radiated from Stone, the water evaporating as he no doubt used some technique to dry himself.

“How are you doing that?” Kara asked.

Stone shrugged and waved a hand across her face. Steam radiated from her, and her clothes dried within seconds. Water dissolved from the crevices around her eyes, and her hair regained its shine.

“Neat. Will you teach me?” she prodded.

“There are more important matters to address, Kara. I will teach you this later if you remember to ask.”

Kara sighed. “Fair enough. What was that around your neck, then?”

“A key.”

“You just happened to have the key to my grandfather’s cottage with you?”

“I use it for many things, not only this cottage. It can keep out the unwanted. Nothing and no one can break its seal—I’ve tested it.”

Without another word, Stone walked into the darkness. His shoulders disappeared first into the gloom, and the rest of him followed shortly thereafter.

Kara took a deep breath and joined him. She probably managed to annoy him with too many questions again.

Stone’s breathing echoed through the tunnel, magnified by the absolute silence. Her footsteps mingled with his. Tension pooled in her shoulders as she sensed the cave walls pressing in on her.

A cool draft blew on her face. The tension in the air shifted. It seemed to break and peel away, as if they had just walked into a cave with a much higher ceiling.

“Let’s get some light in here,” Stone said.

He clapped once. The mountain groaned in response. Pebbles clattered all around Kara, raining from walls she couldn’t see. Cracks splintered through the rock above. Light drizzled through the ceiling in curved rays. A perfect ring of sunlight snaked its way around the cave’s dome, illuminating polished gray stone.

Rainwater poured from the new ring in the ceiling, crashing to the floor like a circular waterfall. Kara flinched. Out of instinct, she shifted her weight to the balls of her feet, ready to sprint when the water came barreling at them, but it didn’t. Instead, the water tumbled into a gutter at the edges of the cavern and raced away into the recesses of the mountain. And while the perfect circle of light let in rainwater directly above where Kara and Stone stood, a small roof jutting over their passageway kept them dry. The rain cascaded toward the ground on either side of her like an archway and disappeared into the gutters. The rain continued, now a curtain of water along the outer ring of the cave.

Though the fog reduced visibility on their way over, even the low light shattered the dark cave. A polished wall circled them in a perfect dome. The ceiling towered a hundred feet above. Kara took a step back. It was like looking at a life-sized snow globe.

A house sat in the center of the circle: a two-story wooden cottage with white paint and two brick chimneys. The roof came to a point, its gray shingles glinting in the cave’s cold light. Its blue shutters creaked as gusts of wind peeled away from the rain. A porch wrapped around the entire first story, with three rocking chairs positioned by the door. The chairs creaked in the breeze.

Stone crossed his arms. “Welcome to the Walnut.”

“The what?” Kara couldn’t help herself. She giggled.

Her mentor rolled his eyes and began toward the house. “Agneon named this the Walnut—he said the house had a hard shell but held the most precious people in his life at its center. I suppose even the strongest man has his soft moments.”

The smile dissolved from Kara’s face as she trailed behind him. “Strong” wasn’t the word she had in mind for her grandfather.

“This was his haven,” Stone continued. “He and Miriam could find peace here.”

“Miriam?”

“Your grandmother.”

Kara nodded. She didn’t know what to say.

Stone stopped at the foot of the porch steps. “You should lead. This is your home to explore, not mine.”

A gust of wind blew the hair away Kara’s neck. The cool breeze dried the nervous sweat already brewing on her neck. She eyed the blue front door, painted the same color as the shutters. A brass handle waited for her. She took a deep breath and started up the stairs.

A rocking chair creaked again. It leaned forward and fell back in a constant rhythm, a few fingernail scratches along the white paint of the arm rest. Kara brushed the crevices with her hand.

Gold dust sprang from beneath her finger. It bred and engulfed her, spinning around her until the cold gray of the cave dissolved. A warm glow replaced the fog, the light enough that she had to shield her eyes with her arm.

When she lowered her hand, a man sat in the rocking chair. His long blond hair hung in a braid down his back, and his squared jaw reminded Kara of someone she couldn’t quite place. His skin glittered with the gold dust clinging to the air.

A small girl no older than five sat in the man’s lap. She wore a green dress with black embroidery, her blond hair in loose curls that frizzed at the end. She stared off into the distance.

Neither the man nor the girl looked at Kara. Part of her was grateful.

The girl sighed. “I’m glad you’re home, Papa. I missed you.”

The man smiled. “I missed you, too, Ellen.”

Kara’s breath caught in her chest. Dread spread to her fingertips, weighing them down. She forced herself to breathe.

Ellen—that was her mother’s name.

“Where did you go, Papa?” little Ellen asked.

The man’s arms tensed from their place around his daughter. “Business.”

The dust dissolved with a
poof
. The gray gloom returned, and Kara found herself staring at the empty rocking chair, still not quite able to breathe.

“What...?” she asked in a small voice.

“One of Agneon’s memories,” Stone said.

Kara glanced at the porch railing. Stone leaned against it, arms still crossed. He looked at her over the brim of his nose, as if judging how much he should say.

Her voice lingered in her throat, much quieter than she intended. “That was a memory?”

Stone nodded. He unfolded his arms, a folded piece of paper now in his hand. Since his clothes didn’t have many pockets, Kara couldn’t help but wonder where he’d kept it.

He handed her the page, and she took it. And when her skin brushed the paper, more gold dust poured from beneath her fingers.

The gray world dissolved again, but she now stood in an office. Bookshelves lined the nearest wall. A wooden desk sat in the corner, glittering with the haze of yet another memory. Sunlight streamed through a window along the far wall, shining its light on two men.

Stone stood by the desk, looking out the window. His skin glittered in the golden vision, but he didn’t look a day younger than the isen Kara had come to know.

Another man sat at the desk, his shoulders hunched over a piece of paper. A blond braid hung down his back, just like the man in the first memory. Kara inched closer until his already familiar squared chin came into view. This had to be Agneon.

Her grandfather sobbed and dropped a quill. Ink splattered on the paper. A few half-formed sentences littered the page. Two had been crossed out.

“You must focus,” Stone said.

“Tell Ellen I’m sorry,” Agneon whispered through a sob.

Stone nodded.

But Agneon continued. “I’m sorry I can’t be there for her when she grows up. I’m sorry I can’t hate her suitors and listen to her cry when they break her heart. I’m sorry she will have to go through the curse of our lineage without me.”

Stone shrugged. “She doesn’t have to. You don’t have to let the drenowith destroy you just because you killed Miriam.”

Agneon choked on another sob. Kara burned with annoyance and anger, though she wasn’t sure the emotions belonged to her. Thoughts whizzed through her mind, some of them in languages she didn’t understand. Regardless, Stone didn’t have to be so callous. Agneon already felt terrible enough as it was.

But Agneon shook his head. “I can’t live with myself. Not now. Ellen saw what happened. She saw everything. She ran away when I tried to explain. I found her running toward the cave exit. She didn’t want me to touch her. She was trembling and...”

Agneon bit his knuckle. He didn’t say any more.

Stone shifted his weight. “And you think embedding your memories in your home will teach her how to deal with this curse even though you failed?”

Agneon nodded but didn’t look up. “Maybe she can learn from my mistakes.”

“I doubt she will ever want to come back to this life.”

“Then let her find happiness somewhere else. I hope she never becomes an isen. I hope Niccoli never finds her. She barely has the isen scent, so who knows? Maybe she doesn’t have the gene. Maybe isenhood skipped her. I hope it did. If she forgets me, if she never comes back to Ourea, she might be better off. But if she does find her way back, I want her to know I tried. I tried to be a good man. I tried to love. I simply failed.”

Stone nodded. “We should begin, then.”

Agneon’s picked up his quill. “Will I lose the memories when you embed them in the house?”

“Yes.”

“But I won’t be stuck here, right? Just my memories, not my soul.”

“Correct.”

Agneon nodded. “Good.”

The golden light imploded on itself. Once more, Kara stood on the porch of the house in the middle of a mountain, staring at the isen who somehow pulled memories from her grandfather.

Her legs wobbled. She lowered herself onto the stairs and set her head in her hands.

Stone sighed. “Kara—”

“Hush. I need a moment.”

Kara didn’t know how long she sat on the first step of her grandfather’s cottage, but she needed to get her bearings. The letter crinkled in her hand, still unread.

She saw her grandfather cry. The isen known to Ourea as the greatest mass-murderer of the last few centuries sobbed and lost himself to remorse for killing the woman he loved. That was
not
the way she had imagined him. She couldn’t quite wrap her head around the idea that he could feel anything but hatred.

Stone sat beside her. The stair creaked beneath his weight, but he remained silent.

“So you embedded his memories into the house?” Kara finally asked.

Stone nodded. “He asked me to do it. I believe you now know why.”

“But how? How did you even do that? I thought only the Vagabond could see others’ memories.”

“And who do you think taught him?”

Kara caught Stone’s eye. “Really? You taught him to see others’ memories?”

Stone nodded. “I wanted him to be safe. Knowing another’s most influential memory shows you what drives them.”

“I didn’t think you cared about anyone’s safety, even his.”

His shoulders sagged ever so slightly. “I didn’t expect you would.”

She rubbed her face with her free hand. “I’m sorry, Stone. That’s just how you come off.”