The Wizard's Heir (2 page)

“Myla!” Tybolt screamed.

His mother slid to her knees, looking over the edge of the cliff.

The rain stung his face and arms as he ran. Lightning struck again. The grass burst into flames despite being drenched. He’d almost reached his mother when the ground trembled and collapsed. She dropped from view.

Tybolt leapt over a fracture that was easily four feet wide and growing. He slipped in the mud at the edge of the cliff and fell to his knees. “Mother!” he cried.

She hung just below the rim, her fingers clawing into the side. She looked up at him, her hair plastered over her face from the pelting rain. Below them the sea thrashed and churned over the broken remains of the lighthouse like a boiling soup.

Tybolt lay flat and leaned over, barely managing to wrap his fingers around her wrist. The moment he did, the dirt she’d been holding onto crumbled and fell into the ocean.

“Tybolt, I’m sorry,” she cried over the wind. “I should’ve told you.”

“It’s all right, just—let’s get you safe,” he shouted, feeling smaller than he’d ever remembered feeling.

The fracture he’d leapt over a moment ago widened again and moved towards them. His mother shook her head, “Get away from here, Tybolt, run.”

“No! I will not lose you.”

“Listen to me. You’re in danger. This is not an ordinary storm, it’s—”

“I know, Mother, its wizard-made. Come on.” He inched backwards on his belly, trying to pull her up. But Deviant or not, he was only ten and just beginning to come into his abilities. He could barely raise her an inch.

The ground rocked beneath him, and his mother’s hand was wrenched from his. “No!” he screamed, reaching for her.

Everything slowed, and the wind seemed to quiet to a dull roar. She fell backwards, her hair and dress twisting around her as if alive. Her eyes were fixed on his, and through his horror he saw her mouth moving.

He only heard one word over the wind—
Aja
.

He was aware yet unaware of the storm. The wind had grown stronger still. Lightning flashed around him. Sections of the cliff continued to dissolve up and down the coast, sliding into the sea. But all he could see was the frothy white water that had swallowed up everything he loved in the world.

He didn’t know how much time passed before he was lifted into the arms of another. He looked up at a man he’d never seen before—tall, with brown hair and light blue eyes. Was he a blue-eyed Hunter too? The man didn’t look at him. He was busy mumbling words that Tybolt didn’t understand.

Still carrying Tybolt, the man leapt over the fracture. It felt more like they were floating rather than jumping—it took too long and the landing was softer than it should’ve been. Tybolt couldn’t bring himself to care. The man threw him over the front of his horse and climbed up behind.

Tybolt knew he should be afraid. Instead he felt nothing, nothing but a heaviness deep in his soul that he knew would never go away.

Tybolt awoke to a bed and a fire. He didn’t know where he was, but the man who’d grabbed him from the cliff sat in a chair across from him. Those blue eyes stared at him with an expression he couldn’t identify.

“Father?” Tybolt said.

The man’s eyes brimmed with tears, but he shook his head. “No, boy,” he said, his voice cracking. “I’m not your father. My name is…” He hung his head and stared at the floor. “Hess. And I will take care of you.”

“Oh.” He turned his back to the man and pulled the blanket over his shoulders.

8 years later

Tybolt huffed in irritation. This hunt was supposed to be easy.

He and Auriella had stalked the wizards for half a day. Their plan was near perfect. They would snag them, tie them to the back of the horses, return them to King Rowan, and collect their bounty—just like always. But these wizards had a little more fire than most—and a fair dose of creativity. Suffice it to say, things were not going as planned.

Tybolt grabbed the second wizard, yanked his arms behind his back, and shoved the cuffs on his wrists. The wizard yelled out a spell, and Tybolt felt the sting of magic roll around him. It didn’t matter if the wizards knew he was immune to their powers—they always tried anyway. This one was still muttering spells, and Tybolt didn’t realize what he was up to until a loud crack echoed through the forest.

Hunters were immune to magic, but the trees certainly weren’t.

“Auriella,” Tybolt shouted. “A little help here!”

A pine tree careened towards them. Its limbs snapped off one by one as it crashed through the surrounding trees. Tybolt grabbed the wizard and threw him out of the way, diving after.

The pine slammed into the ground, kicking up a cloud of dirt and needles. Apparently the wizard would rather be crushed to death than go to the Hold—can’t say that he blamed him.

The wizard squirmed on his belly like an inchworm, his mouth still moving with spell work.

“Oh no you don’t,” Tybolt grunted. He threw himself on top of the wizard and pulled a gag from his back pocket.

“Tybolt!” Auriella’s voice rang through the trees.

The wizard jerked his head to the side, searching for the owner of the voice, his lips still moving. Tybolt shoved the gag in his mouth before the wizard could finish whatever he was attempting.

“Over here,” Tybolt shouted back.

The man groaned and writhed beneath him, trying to buck Tybolt off. But it was too late. The iron cuffs restricted his magic, and the gag prevented him from speaking enchantments. This wizard was no better than an ordinary man now. Tybolt was a Hunter—stronger, faster, and born to fight wizards.

Tybolt leaned back on his heels and coughed into the crook of his elbow, trying to free his lungs of the dust and dirt he’d inadvertently sucked in.

Auriella dropped from an overhead branch with a flip and landed neatly on her feet. She straightened, looking first at the fallen tree and then at Tybolt. “What happened here?”

He swiped his arm across his mouth and raised his eyebrows. “I was almost crushed to death. Thanks for your concern.”

“Hmm.” Auriella smirked. “I’m glad you survived.”

“Clearly. Did you get him?”

“No. I don’t know what happened. He just…vanished.”

Tybolt felt the wizard beneath him relax. The traitor’s son had escaped. “Spawn of Asa,” he swore. “They can’t just
vanish
.”

“I know that,” she snapped. “One minute I was chasing him, and the next minute he was gone. I moved up to the trees for a better view, but saw nothing.”

“Two wizards instead of three. The king will be thrilled.”

“We won’t tell him there were three.” Auriella looked around. “Where’s the second one anyway?”

Tybolt jerked his head in the direction he’d left the first wizard.

She leapt over a fallen tree with no more effort than a normal man would’ve hopped over a stick. A moment later Auriella poked her head back through the branches, dangling a pair of cuffs from her finger. “They can’t just vanish, huh? Looks like yours just did.”

“Blood and bones! After this one tried to kill us both with that tree, he kept chanting. He must’ve spelled those cuffs off the other one.” Tybolt stood and jerked the wizard to his feet. The man turned limp as a rag doll, refusing to help his captors return him for the king’s punishment.

Auriella placed a hand on her hip and eyed Tybolt as he struggled to make the wizard cooperate. “Do you need some help?”

Tybolt chuckled to himself. “Oh, now she’s available to help.” He hoisted the man over his shoulder. “I could’ve used your help earlier when I was almost crushed to death…or when our meal ticket ran off.”

“My apologies. I was busy chasing the wizard’s son. I believe you know which one—he ran right past you.

“Excuses, Auriella.” Tybolt grunted as he pushed the wizard farther back on his shoulder. “Always excuses.”

Their camp was located in the thicker part of the forest. They’d chosen it specifically to act as a natural blind, concealing the sleeping platforms they’d secured in the trees. They would need to build another platform for the wizard. If they left him on the ground, he would be a meal for a mountain lion by morning. Given the choice, the wizard would most certainly prefer the lion. But no Wizard, no bounty.

Tybolt secured their catch by tying him to a tree, then went to work chopping branches for the platform. Auriella busied herself with the fire. Tybolt couldn’t help but watch her from the corner of his eye.

She was stunning, even by Hunter standards. Her dark hair hung between her shoulder blades in a glossy sheet. The hard planes of her face were broken up by large, almond-shaped eyes and long eyelashes. The gold flecks in her green eyes nearly brought him to his knees.

“Stop it,” Auriella said.

“Stop what?” Tybolt threw another split log onto the stack.

“Stop staring at me with those freaky blue eyes of yours.”

“Freaky!” Tybolt dropped his ax and clutched his chest. “Auriella, that hurts.”

“Please, half the kingdom is panting over those blue eyes. Don’t pretend your feelings are hurt.”

“I am not pretending. I’m crushed. And I think you should know that I wasn’t staring at you. I was simply debating whether or not I should tell you . . . there’s an absolutely
enormous
spider on your shoulder.”

Auriella yelped and leapt to her feet, swatting at her shoulder.

“See, that’s why I didn’t say anything.” He shrugged. “You always overreact.”

“Tybolt.” She huffed. “Just…get to work.”

“Of course, My Lady.” Tybolt lowered his head. His shoulder-length hair fell forward, covering his smile. “Your wish is my command.”

She pursed her lips and shoved a handful of dried pine needles underneath the wood she’d stacked. “You know, Tybolt, I would really like to hate you.”

“I know, but it’s just so difficult to do.”

She finally laughed, displaying that genuine smile he didn’t see nearly enough. The smile that lit up her face in a way that made his heart sing.

Auriella took flint from her pocket and scraped her knife against it, flicking tiny crimson embers into the tender. It took only a little coaxing before flames erupted, announcing their arrival with faint crackling. She stood and brushed off her knees. “I’m going to get dinner.”

“Try to find something tasty, will you?” Tybolt said.

“Of course. I’ll see if I can’t locate some bacon growing on a tree,” she called back. “Or perhaps if we’re lucky, I might find some puff pastries in little baskets just waiting for us.”

“That would be wonderful!” he shouted after her, taking the final swing with his ax. “Maybe even some chocolate cake if you can find some.”

He smiled to himself and gathered an armful of wood, tossing the logs one by one onto the platforms he’d already made. Tybolt leapt fifteen feet straight up, grabbed the nearest branch, and spun himself around it. A few leaps between the platform and the place he’d chosen, a few lashings, and the third platform was finished.

Tybolt glanced down and caught the eyes of the wizard, something he tried to avoid. The worst part of hunting, the very worst part, was the look in the wizards’ eyes once they’d been caught. Their eyes brimmed with terror and occasionally anger. Every emotion that poured from their eyes left an inexplicable river of guilt running though his soul.

Today was different. This wizard’s eyes were full of curiosity.