Heritage: Book Three of the Grimoire Saga (13 page)

Someone had to tell Aurora about his decision, but he didn’t know how to word the statement without being obvious. “Should I—?”

“Yes,” Gurien replied.

Braeden nodded. Good enough. To distract whomever may or may not be listening to their conversation, he launched into a discussion about Gurien’s lessons with his soldiers. He didn’t really listen to himself talk, nor did he really hear Gurien’s answers.

His mind raced ahead to his new mission: school an obstinate princess whom he didn’t really like. He would push her. Whereas he admittedly went easy on Kara during her training, he would not be kind to the Kirelm princess. Aurora would have to prove herself, and he would test her dedication by seeing to it she bled.

That evening, Braeden found Aurora in the Ayavelian gardens under a cherry blossom tree. He whispered instructions regarding where to meet him the next day and told her to find trousers. She would eventually need to learn to fight in a gown, since that’s what she always wore, but for now a dress would hinder movement. After he delivered his orders, she didn’t answer. Instead, she nodded and bit her lip to hide the smile.

She wouldn’t be smiling for long.

After Braeden fell asleep, he tossed and turned with nightmares of being discovered. In each dream, Ithone stumbled upon their sparring arena. The Kirelm Blood went into a rage and set the trees on fire, all before snapping Braeden’s neck.

Braeden shot up in bed after the last nightmare. Unable to endure yet another, he went to his study and read through
Conversations with a Drenowith
until the sun rose.

The day sped by. Braeden began work on his Stelian attack plan, but his quill seemed to write his thoughts for him. His hand swept over page after page of maps and battle notes, sketching troop movements and areas of risk without his knowledge. He’d memorized the maps, and his subconscious simply filled in the gaps after his last trip to the Stele.

He would have to go again, of course. Several times. Troop movements changed. New battlements could go up at any moment. He had to keep an eye on his father for fear the attack plans would unravel at the last minute. Only the element of surprise could win this final fight.

Braeden only ate once, around noon. His mind wandered, half of it focused on the maps while the other half lost itself to thoughts about where he would begin his lessons with Aurora.

Eventually, daylight faded into dusk. The last traces of sun trickled in through his windows, the burning light casting a red glow on his papers. He sat back and stared into the growing shadows of his study, not yet willing to light candles to keep working.

In an hour, he would have to go meet Aurora for the first time. By then, the arena would be ready. Gurien would distract Ithone, and Aurora would finally learn what it meant to be a Blood.

Braeden leaned against a tree in the clearing Gurien mentioned those few days ago. He eyed the stars above to distract himself from the dead quiet, searching for the moon that wouldn’t appear. A gray fire burned in the center of the clearing, surrounded by a circle of rocks he laid to keep the flame in check. Flickers of dull light cast shadows over the grass as the flames crackled.

Footsteps crunched dry leaves in the distance. Braeden sighed. The princess would have to learn stealth, too.

Aurora gasped and stumbled into the clearing. The familiar gown was gone, replaced by a fitted shirt and brown pants. Her boots caught on a branch. She tripped. Her one wing shot out to help her balance, but the lack of a second wing to spread the weight sent her tumbling to the grass. She landed on her palms and cursed.

“How graceful,” Braeden said.

Aurora scowled and pushed herself to her feet. “You could have helped me find this place. I trekked through a mile of—”

“You don’t get help anymore. You will be absolutely and completely independent from now on. I’m not going to coddle you or be gentle. My primary duty is planning the attack on the Stele. You will always come second, even when we’re out here. On nights when I’m scouting, you’ll have to practice on your own.”

“But what if I go with you? I can—”

He laughed. “Absolutely not. For starters, you can’t even walk through this forest without everything in the trees knowing where you are. I’m not risking both our lives by bringing you along.”

“But I can help!”

“Not in the Stele, you can’t. The answer is no. Stay focused on this training or risk losing me completely.”

She bit her lip and stared at the ground.

Braeden continued. “While we’re out here, I will not refer to you by your title. In this clearing, you’re a girl with a lot to learn. You will not ask for a hand to help you up when you fall. You will not complain. You will do exactly as I say the moment I tell you to do it. I am your master now, and you will obey me. Are we clear?”

Her jaw tensed, and she frowned. Her fists tightened. The remaining wing shifted closer to her body, the feathers rustling against her shirt.

“I do not repeat myself,” Braeden snapped.

“We’re clear,” Aurora said.

“Good. Come here.”

Aurora hesitated, but her boots eventually stomped toward him.

“Are you an elephant? Be quiet. Walk on the balls of your feet. Avoid twigs and anything capable of crunching underfoot.”

She frowned but glanced down. Her eyes trailed the ground as she tiptoed toward him.

Braeden summoned a gray flame. It hovered over his palm, crackling. Aurora glanced up. Braeden cocked his arm to throw the fire. The princess’s eyes went wide. She shifted, but overcompensated with her wing. She barely moved. He threw. The fire sailed into her shoulder and knocked her backward. She twisted around and landed on her stomach.

Aurora smacked the earth with her fist. “What was—?”

“Keep your eyes up and stay alert. Anything can happen at any time. You’re not allowed to be caught off guard anymore. Nothing will surprise you by the time we’re done.”

Aurora sat up, a six-inch hole torn in her shirt sleeve. Her silver blood stained bits of the cloth and grass where she fell. Soot lined the hole’s edges, but as she was a Blood, the skin had already repaired itself from Braeden’s attack.

Her eyes narrowed. “Is this revenge for you? I can heal instantly, so you think you can burn me and beat me until—”

“We’re going to spar. We’re going to fight. You’re going to get hurt. I thought it was obvious.”

She frowned and pushed herself to her feet. She wobbled. Her wing shot out again, and she fell to her knees.

Braeden eyed the wing. “You need to regain your balance.”

“Obviously.”

“Resist the impulse to be a spoiled princess. We have to pretend we’re equals in the palace, but don’t be disrespectful if you want me to train you.”

She took a deep breath and nodded. “I apologize.”

“Forgiven. Stand.”

She pushed herself to her feet. Again, she wobbled.

“Tuck your wing in,” Braeden said.

She obeyed. Her stance evened.

“Good. You need to find a new center of gravity. Before, it probably sat right in your middle, here”—Braeden tapped his abdomen—“but now it’s shifted to the left. You need to compensate.”

Her wing pulled in close, so tight to her body only the tip appeared above her head. She stood with ease.

Braeden nodded. “A good start.”

“What I would give for my wing back,” she said under her breath.

“Don’t waste time on wishes like that. Focus on the now. You’re missing a wing. Deal with it. Accept it. Own it. Use it as a weapon. People will underestimate you and assume you have no balance. Lure them in with your perceived vulnerability and break them once they’re close.”

A smile spread across the princess’s face. “Yes, Master.”

Braeden suppressed a grin at her use of his new title. “Good. Let’s get started.”

He conjured a blade of air, careful to create a weak one. It would hurt enough to make a mark without killing her. He aimed and shot it at her leg within a second. His attack flew too quickly for Aurora to duck out of the way. The blade sliced through her pant leg and cut down to the bone. Silver blood spurted from the wound. She screamed and knelt.

As soon as the wound materialized, her body stitched itself back together. Muscle inched over the exposed bone. Skin stretched over the injury, covering it with a dome of silver flesh as she healed beneath it.

“A little warning would be nice!” Aurora yelled.

“You may not get warnings in a fight. Like I said, you must always be ready, even if your opponent lulls you into a sense of security. And besides, I did warn you. I said we should get started.”

She grumbled under her breath. Her wing curled toward her body, and she stood with ease. Braeden smiled. Aurora seemed to learn quickly. This might not be as difficult as he originally thought.

He shot a bolt of green lightning at her face. She twisted to the left and fell to the ground, out of the way. The bolt sailed into a tree. A sharp crack tore through the night. The trunk splintered. Branches swayed. Everything above his attack toppled into the clearing, leaves rustling as they fell. The tree landed beside Aurora with a
thump
.

She shot to her feet. Ice covered her hands. She raised her pointer fingers and pressed them together, aiming for Braeden. An icicle emerged from the tips of her fingers. Water dripped from the ice, already melting in the hot summer night. She smirked, and the shard of ice flew toward Braeden on her silent command. But as it sailed through the air, it curved and fell to the dirt five feet in front of him.

So Aurora knew a few techniques after all, however unimpressive they might be. Braeden grinned and conjured another bolt of lightning. Time to see what she could do.

He aimed again, too far to the right in an effort to trick her into the path of his next move. She ducked the zap, but he followed his first bolt with a second aimed right for her stomach. She flew backward and smacked against a tree trunk.

His least favorite memory of the princess flashed through his mind. Aurora elbowed him in the gut. He fell. A horde of Stelians grabbed his arms while she escaped, leaving him to rot. He relived that betrayal twice in the blink of an eye. Anger burned in his stomach. Hatred contorted his thoughts.

A flash of adrenaline shot through Braeden as he debated what to do to her next. His fists tightened. His mind raced. Fire burst to life in his palms. Magic coursed through his body like a second pulse. He savored the energy.

Why should he forgive Aurora for such a betrayal? She nearly sent him back to a lifetime of slavery to his father. Kara would have died if Braeden succumbed. He would have lost everything. He didn’t want to forgive. He wanted blood. And out here, he could have it. Out here, she belonged to him.

His eyes narrowed. He smirked.

Aurora gasped. Her lips parted. For a moment, she didn’t get back on her feet. She watched him. Her body shook, but she never once looked away.

Kill her.

A jolt of panic flooded his chest after the vile thought. He shook his head and cursed. The anger simmered in his gut, urging him to sink his blade through her throat. Instead, he rubbed his face and inched away. He forced himself to turn his back on her in an effort to calm down. His lungs sucked in a deep breath. His mind cleared.