Heir of Thunder (Stormbourne Chronicles Book 1) (26 page)

The way he spoke of his sister made me feel I
could believe him, even if I didn’t trust him. Gideon knew more than he had
said, and that disturbed me. He brought me to this place where people knew
about me, but I knew nothing of them and seemed to keep finding ways to avoid
my questions.

“I’ll go with her,” I said. “But you promised
me answers.”

He cupped my cheek with an unexpectedly soft
touch. “And you deserve them. I’ll find you tomorrow, and we’ll talk then.”

With that, he spun on his heel, strode across
the room, and disappeared through the doorway. Marlis tugged my arm to get my
attention. She led me from the dining room and up a flight of circular stone
stairs, lit by turpentine torches. Modern lighting did not extend to this part
of the castle, and I felt as though we had stepped back in time. I half
expected a knight in a suit of armor might come clanking down the stairs at any
moment.

We ascended countless steps until we finally
reached a landing and stopped before a heavy, wooden door. Marlis pulled a key
ring from the sash of the muslin apron she wore over her blue gown. She sorted
through the keys and found one to fit the door’s lock. The room smelled of damp
stone and old linen and was adorned with simple furnishings: a small bed, a
table with a lantern, a single stool, and a plain oak stand with a water
pitcher and ewer.

Marlis lit the lantern with one of the torches
from the landing. She inhaled and seemed to want to say something. Instead, she
sighed and gave me a sad smile. She pointed to the bed and tucked her hand
under her head, closing her eyes to mimic sleeping.

She left my room so soundlessly I didn’t hear
her footsteps on the stairway as she descended. A great weariness tugged at my
body as I settled on the bed and pulled the linens over my shoulders. So many
questions swirled through my head and ricocheted against my skull that I was
certain I would never be able to sleep.

But I was wrong.

After waking me late in the morning, Marlis
led me to the same dining room where Gideon and I had shared supper the night
before. I ate by myself—the household’s other inhabitants must have already
started their day by the time I came down. The staff were taking away empty
dishes and wiping down tables. Only Gideon arrived later than I. He stuffed a
piece of bacon into a roll and led me into the castle courtyard, proposing to
give me a tour of Lord Daeg’s estate.

“There’s nothing wrong with my sister,” he
said. “Even though most people would disagree.”

“I didn’t think there was anything wrong with
her. She’s been very kind.”

He chewed on his lip as he considered what to
say next. “She’s not ‘soft in the head’, as Aodan says. I think she chooses not
to talk by choice, not because she can’t.”

“Have you ever heard her speak?”

“I remember her singing, mostly, when she was
a tiny little thing, but I can’t remember the last time I’ve heard her use
words.”

“Why do you think she’s that way?”

He guided me out the castle gates, through the
forest, and toward Daeg’s fields. Little green shoots popped their heads from
the ground and the perfume of freshly turned earth scented the air. “People deal
with grief in different ways. Marlis has had a hard life, growing up without a
mother and having to take care of our father.” The last bit came out with a
twinge of regret.

“Did you find him last night? Your father I
mean?” We stopped and gazed at a row of laborers—several groups of women and
small children worked the nearest field with hand tools, pulling weeds, and collecting
rocks.

“I did.”

When it was obvious he intended to say nothing
more, I changed the subject to the one that mattered most to me that moment. “Gideon,
why did you bring me here?”

“I thought you might like to see a bit of the
estate.”

I put my hands on my hips and glared at him. “You
know what I mean.”

He swallowed and took a deep breath. He spoke
his answer on a quick exhalation of words. “Daeg asked me to.”

“But,
why
? And how
would he know—” I stopped. Stupid me.
Stupid,
stupid,
stupid
! “Unless he knew from the beginning. Unless he planned the whole
thing.”

Gideon refused to look at me. His gaze
lingered on the distant field, and his silence said everything.
How
could I be so naïve?

“Tell me the truth, Gideon Faust.” I grabbed
his arm and dug my fingers into the muscles above his elbow. He looked down at
me, his eyes dark
and haunted
. “Did Daeg plan this? Is he
the reason I had to run for my life?”

Gideon licked his lips and swallowed again. “Yes.”

My voice rose to an almost inaudible pitch. “And
you knew about it all along?”

“Yes.”

I staggered back, my pulse pounding in my
ears. Tears burned my throat and eyes, but I was so sick of crying. I bent over
and heaved several breaths to chase away my grief. “Then all of this—” I waved
my hand between Gideon and me. “—everything you’ve said and done. It was just a
ploy to get me here?”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He
opened his mouth to answer, but before he could utter a word, I slapped him,
hard, so hard my palm and fingers burned. He didn’t react—he simply stood
there, unmoving, as the red stain of my assault darkened on his cheek.

I clutched my throbbing fingers to my chest
and pushed past him, but he grabbed my wrist and towed me back. “Evie, wait,”
he said.

A sudden gust of wind tugged at my cloak and
toyed with the long strands of Gideon’s hair. I had never hated anyone before,
but I was certain I would never hate anyone again as much as I hated him at
that moment. I wrenched myself from his grasp and ran. I didn’t know where I
was going, but the wind pushed me along, encouraging me.

“Evie!” Gideon shouted behind me.

I ran through the nearest field. The soft
black dirt sucked at my feet and hampered my speed, but I pumped my legs
through it. The wind rose to a howl, and the air currents felt like the touch
of my father. I didn’t look back. I didn’t want to know if Gideon was close to
catching me.

It wasn’t Gideon who stopped my flight, though,
but Lord Daeg upon his great black horse. He reined the beast into my path and
swiped at me with a massive hand. I dodged, but Daeg snagged the hood of my cloak.
I struggled from the fabric, pulling my arms free. Then I lunged forward,
tugging my hand from the cuff, still hoping to make my escape, but Daeg slid
from his horse and wrapped me in his bearlike arms. I screamed an ineffable
sound of protest, cursing Daeg, Gideon, and the fates that had brought me here.

Daeg’s man, Steig, appeared at his side and together
they hauled me off my feet, carrying me back to the castle like a sack of
potatoes. From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Gideon. He stared as
his feet, rigid and unmoving as a stone wall.

“You bastard!” I screamed at him, but he stood
rigid and unmoving as Daeg and Steig hauled me away. I let my hatred burn him
from my heart, like a hot iron cauterizing a wound. He wouldn’t get another thought
from me, not another word. He was dead to me. More dead than my father.

My screams and cries echoed on the castle’s
stone walls. No one came to my aid. No one helped me. Lord Daeg locked me in my
room and left me to stew in my agony.

***

A throbbing headache greeted me when I awoke
later in my little bedroom. The headache wasn’t my only visitor. Aeolus Daeg
sat in a large chair that someone must have towed up to my room especially for
him. He watched me with a faraway look in his eyes.

When he realized I was awake, he shook himself
and leaned forward in his chair. “I’m sorry that it’s come to this, my girl,
but I simply cannot have you running away.”

“Why not?” I asked, rubbing my temples. I
winced when a sharp pain stabbed behind my eyes.

Lord Daeg noticed and gave me a pitying look.
He rose to his feet and went to the door, knocked on it, and waited. The lock
turned, the door cracked open, and Marlis crept into the room.

“Bring some tea for our friend,” he said. “Something
to help with a headache.”

Marlis bobbed a curtsey, and without looking
at either of us, retreated into the hallway.

“That girl has a way with herbs. Probably
learned it having to take care of that father of hers. Gideon told you she’s
his sister, didn’t he?”

I glared at Daeg and nodded, careful not to
jar the contents of my skull.

“They’re extremely close, those two. I think
it hurt her a great deal when I sent Gideon away.”

“What do you want with me?” I asked, cutting
into his idle chatter.

“You should know the answer to that already. But
your father left you ignorant of your own history. You should hold him
accountable for that if you see him again in the shadowlands.”

“He was still teaching me things. He died
before he was finished.”

“Yes, yes, so sad... losing your father at
such a critical time in your life.” Daeg didn’t sound sad about it at all.

Another thought occurred to me. “If he hadn’t
died, would you still have tried to overthrow my kingdom?”

“
Your
kingdom,” he
said with a chuckle. “What was left of
your kingdom
by the time my men arrived was dregs and tatters. The Stormbourne kingdom died
with your father.”

“I have some of his powers. It’s not
completely gone.”

Lord Daeg’s expression lightened. “You’re
right. It’s not completely gone, but you are no doubt the last. That’s why it
was so critical you return to this land, the birthplace of our ancestors,
before your birthright is lost forever.”

“What good does it do you?”

“It does me little good, personally, but it
can benefit my family a great deal.” Before Daeg could explain any further, Marlis
returned with a pot of tea and two porcelain cups on a tray. She set the tray
on the table and poured for both of us. She handed one to me, and I sipped it
gratefully. My mouth felt as though I had been sucking on a stale stocking. The
tea’s herby odor reminded me of Gerda and her garden of green things. Marlis
offered a cup to Daeg but he waved it away and rose to his feet.

“When you finish your tea,” he said, pausing
by the door, “I want to show you something. Come find me in my study downstairs.
Marlis will show you the way.”

Marlis sat on the little stool by the table,
waiting for me to finish. She played with a bit of hair that had come loose
from her kerchief.

“Do you know why I’m here?” I asked.

She looked up, surprised to find someone
talking to her, and nodded.

“But you won’t tell me what it is?”

She shifted in her seat, turning her profile
to me, and shook her head.

I exhaled and downed the last gulp of tea. It
improved my headache right away. “I’m done. I guess you better take me to him.”

Daeg sat hunched over a massive oak desk when Marlis
deposited me in his study. A strange assortment of baubles cluttered the
tabletop around him: a piece of amber with a dragonfly entombed inside, a white
geode the size of my fist filled with amethyst crystals, a collapsible brass
spyglass, a gold compass, and a stained glass oil lamp. He scribbled in a
massive ledger, and he held one finger up, indicating he wanted me to wait for
him to finish before saying anything.

I took the moment to study the room. Daeg’s
study was small and filled with an eclectic compilation of furniture,
tapestries, books, and a strange collection of wall clocks—some crafted like
little houses and others in various forms of animals. From almost all of the
clocks dangled a pair of cast iron weights molded in the shape of pinecones. I
wanted to inspect them but suspected Daeg had something more important for my
consideration.

Finally, he laid his pen aside and turned his
attention to me. “Can you read Dreutchish as well as you speak it? I hope your
father didn’t neglect that aspect of your education as well.”

“I can read it well enough,” I said.

Daeg made a
tsk
sound and rolled his eyes. “
Well enough
...” He
rifled through his desk until he unearthed a scroll sheathed in a thin, black
velvet bag. He passed it to me and tented his fingers together under
his
chin.

“Well, go on.” He motioned to the scroll.

I unrolled the old parchment and tried not to
strain the brittle paper. I read slowly and waited for the words to make sense,
as if I had to first unlock some infrequently used part of my brain, but then
the writing cleared, and I began to understand.

The Legend of Aeolus
and Trevelyan

When the ancient deities were in the prime of their rule, the
Lord of Thunder,
Aeolus
Stormbourne,
waited expectantly for his wife, Dariah, to give birth to twins—the first set
ever born in the Stormbourne lineage. Aeolus’s wife was extremely uncomfortable
during her pregnancy,
for her babies seemed to constantly spar in
her womb. On the eve of their birth, a Magician in the Stormbourne’s court
dreamed that the babies who
fought in Da
riah’s belly would
continue to fight all their lives until they split and became two separate
nations.

In the Magician’s dream, the first-born son
was named Aeolus after his father, a Stormbourne tradition, and the younger was
named Trevelyan after Dariah’s father. Aeolus, although the stronger of the
two, would eventually bow to his younger brother, and the nations spawned from
each son would fare similarly. The Magician shared his dream with Dariah, and
she urged him not to reveal his visions to her husband for fear of inciting his
wrath.

On the day of their birth, Aeolus emerged big,
blond, and strong, crying to raise the storms to their fury. Clutching his
brother’s heel, Trevelyan came immediately afterward. He was dark, slim, and
quiet. As the boys grew, their differences increased. Aeolus preferred hunting,
fishing, and building things with his hands, traits that endeared him to his
father. Trevelyan preferred the arts. He studied music, read poetry, and
enjoyed cooking, piquing the favor of his mother. The brothers held only one
trait in common: They both possessed a love for battle as soldiers born to the
sword, and they often fought each other, seeking always to draw first blood.

When the birthday marking their adulthood
arrived, the twins father announced his desire to bestow the birthright of the
Lord of Thunder upon his firstborn son, Aeolus, and he ordered his son to go
out and kill a deer for the blessing ceremony. “When Aeolus returns with the
meat,” he announced to his family, “he and I shall feast together, and I shall
bestow him with his rightful blessing.”

Dariah, remembering the Magician’s dream,
devised a scheme to transfer the birthright to her favorite son, Trevelyan. “My
son,” she said, “go slaughter a goat from our herd and bring it to me. We will
flavor it so that your father will believe it is your brother’s kill.”

“But he will not eat it with me,” Trevelyan
said. “He will wait for Aeolus’s return.”

“Your father’s own Magician has already
dreamed of this day and he will assist us. Now do as I say.”

Trevelyan butchered the goat. Together he and
his mother prepared it, covering its flavor with rich sauces and spices.
Employing the Magician’s skill with trickery, Trevelyan assumed his brother’s
appearance and joined his father in the dining room.

“Did you have good luck, Aeolus?” his father
asked. “You have returned so soon.”

“I was blessed to find a stag just as I set
out on my hunt, Father.”

“Come then and share it with me.” The Lord of
Thunder and Trevelyan, disguised as Aeolus, sat down together and feasted on
the meat. Lord Stormbourne blessed Trevelyan with the moisture of the heavens,
the wind of the air, and the lightning of the sky. He concluded his blessing
just as the true Aeolus returned from hunting.

Aeolus fell to his knees and cried out. “Father,
what have you done?”

Lord Stormbourne realized the Magician’s
deception, and Trevelyan’s disguise fell away. In a rage, the Lord of Thunder
cursed his youngest son, but he could not take back what he had already given. “You
will leave my house, Trevelyan Stormbourne. You shall not return to this land,
neither you nor your progeny. You will rule as the Lord of Thunder, but you
will do it far removed from this place. If your offspring ever return to this
land, on that day, the heir of Aeolus will take back that which is rightfully
his.”

Dariah cried for her banished son, but she did
not grieve him long, for her husband killed her that same day as punishment for
her part in his deception. Lord Stormbourne chased the Magician from his house.
Trevelyan fled the land that became Dreutch and sailed the oceans until he
washed upon the shores of the lonely gray island where he established his
throne and thus began the rule of the Stormbournes of Inselgrau.