Legacy of the Blood (The Threshold Trilogy) (46 page)

“There
is another barrier here—the final barrier. It is very strong.”

Understanding
blossomed in Kendan’s eyes. “Ah, yes. I remember what the Henka elders told us.
It was something about the Cave of Terrible Truth.”

Ravi
nodded slowly. “Yes, I can feel it as well.”

“It
is the final challenge before reaching the Threshold,” said Adesina softly.

Kendan
quirked an eyebrow. “How difficult could it be to face truth?”

Ravi’s
face was grim. “More difficult than you imagine. There are truths that we go to
great effort to keep from our conscious mind. To be forced to confront those…”

The
former Shimat looked slightly uncomfortable, but he shrugged with a show of
confidence. “I am the least valuable of the three of us. I will go first and
test out this barrier of truth.”

After
a moment of consideration, Adesina nodded in agreement.

“Remember,
you must accept what you see as truth in order to move forward. If you deny its
reality, you will be turned back.”

Kendan
took a deep breath. “I will remember.”

Kendan
took a single step forward.

He
suddenly found that he was no longer in the caves of Daemon Mount, but standing
in a grassy field. A small cottage stood alone in the area, looking tidy and
idyllic. A handful of fruit trees lined one side of the house, and beside them
was a bountiful vegetable garden. A small chicken pen stood on the opposite
side of the cottage, and a cow grazed on a picket line.

It
was a picture of domestic comfort.

Something
told Kendan that he had seen this house before, but he knew that could not be
possible. He was a Shar Child—raised in the Shimat fortress until he was old
enough to train.

He
walked towards the little home, inexplicably drawn forward.

It
was late in the evening, and the stars twinkled in the sky. The moon was dark,
which made the lights from the cottage windows seem even brighter.

A
man opened the door and breathed deeply, taking in the clean air of spring. He
carried a bucket over to the cow and began to milk her while humming quietly to
himself.

Kendan
approached the man silently, studying his features in the dim light.

The
man was tall, with dark hair and eyes. He had strong features that almost
seemed too bold for his face. A long scar ran from his hairline to his jaw,
marring the entire left side of his face.

It
was the scar more than anything else that prompted Kendan’s memories.

“Father…”

The
man did not hear Kendan’s soft call, but he heard another one.

“Devlin.”

The
voice came from the shadows.

Devlin
did not turn from his task of milking the cow. “You are getting sloppy, Signe.
I knew you were there before I left the house.”

Signe
emerged from the darkened corner of the garden and walked over to Devlin. She
had raised Kendan from childhood, so he knew her face well. It looked younger
now, but he was familiar with every feature.

“I
meant for you to see me, otherwise you would not have known I was there.”

Devlin
smiled with gentle incredulity. “Perhaps. What are you doing here? I have
broken ties with the Shimat.”

Kendan
was startled by this revelation. Signe had always maintained that his father
had been a loyal Shimat warrior until the very end.

“One
does not simply walk away from the Shimat, Devlin. You know that.”

His
expression was pained. “I know why they sent you and I know why you are here,
but I will not come back. I have a family now. This is my life.”

“You
said you love
me
,” hissed Signe venomously. “How little that must mean
if some
farm girl
can change that.”

For
the first time, Devlin’s expression became dangerous. “Leave Keeva out of this,
Signe. I did not lie when I said I loved you, but you have always loved the
idea of being Sharifal more than anything…or anyone.”

Kendan
stared back and forth between them in surprise. He had always assumed that
Signe was his father’s sister, but this exchange made it clear that there was
no blood relation between them.

Signe
reached out to grab Devlin’s arm. “You swore to help me achieve that dream.
Think of what we could do together. We would be unstoppable.”

Devlin
slowly and firmly pulled his arm away. “You do not need me, Signe. You can
achieve your dream all on your own.”

Hatred
glinted in her blue eyes. “There are those who are calling you a traitor.”

He
shook his head. “I have followed every protocol. I gave notice, I renewed my
oath of loyalty, I settled down where the Shimat could easily find me—it is not
a crime against the order to retire.”

“It
should be,” spat Signe. “If I become Sharifal, I will make it a crime to
abandon your duty.”

“I
am not coming back,” Devlin repeated. “I am now nothing more than a farmer.”

Signe
folded her arms. “I wonder what would happen if your
wife
found out what
kind of man she married. I wonder what she would say if she were told about
your role in the Tanar tragedy.”

“I
have told her that there is great darkness in my past,” said Devlin, “and that
I am trying to live a life of good now. She would be saddened by tales of my
past actions, but she already knows what kind of man she married.”

The
cry of a toddler sounded from within the cottage, and the gentle voice of a
woman soothed it back to sleep.

“Is
that your son?” inquired Signe.

“You
already know the answer to that,” replied Devlin. “The Shimat have been
watching me closely ever since I left.”

“Will
you be sending him to train at the fortress?”

He
scowled. “Of course not! I would never wish for my son to live the kind of life
that I have.”

Signe
leaned forward. “If you help me with one last mission, I will make sure that he
is left alone. He will live a life free from the shadows of your past.”

Devlin
finished milking the cow and stood up. “You will not touch my family. I will
die before I let any Shimat try to bring them harm.”

He
picked up the bucket of milk and walked back into the house.

Kendan
heard a soft murmur escape Signe’s lips.

“Yes,
you will.”

***

Kendan
was not certain how much time had lapsed since the meeting of Signe and his
father, but it was night once more and he stood inside the small country
cottage.

Keeva
was a lovely woman with a warm, round figure and an angelic face. She sat in a
chair by the fireplace, mending the clothes of her hardworking husband. Devlin
sat across from her, whittling a whistle for his young son.

For
me
, Kendan
amended.

The
child version of himself was no more than two or three years old. He slept
peacefully in the back room of the cottage.

Without
warning, the front door burst open and a half dozen Shimat rushed into the
room. Keeva was restrained without much trouble, and Devlin stopped fighting
when he saw that his wife was a hostage.

“Please,”
he said quietly, holding up his hands in surrender, “do not hurt her.”

Signe
strode into the room with a smug expression on her face. “This is your last
chance, Devlin. Join me now, or suffer the consequences.”

Kendan’s
father stared at Keeva. Her eyes were wide with fear, and tears ran down her
cheeks.

He
nodded. “Very well, just do not hurt them.”

“I
am afraid it is no longer that simple,” Signe sighed with false sorrow. “Your
earlier refusal has brought your loyalty into question.”

Kendan’s
face warmed with anger at the accusation. His father had done nothing to
deserve such treatment.

Signe’s
eyes took on a vindictive gleam. “In order to prove yourself, you must kill
your wife, who is the cause of your betrayal.”

Keeva
sobbed in terror and darkness engulfed Devlin’s expression. He looked deadly as
he glared at his former lover.

Signe
appeared unmoved by the hostility of the man before her. “If you do so—and join
me on my mission—your son’s life will be spared. He will be taken to the
fortress where he will be kept safe.”

“Never,”
Devlin rasped. “I will kill every single one of you!”

Signe
tilted her head to one side. “Not in enough time.”

She
nodded to one of the Shimat holding Keeva, and he drove a dagger into her
heart.

Kendan
and Devlin’s voices joined in a cry of disbelief and agony.

“NO!”

“Kill
him,” ordered Signe as she walked out of the cottage.

Kendan
followed her, shouting even though he knew he could not be heard. “Why? WHY!”

Signe
hurried around to the back of the house and climbed through the only window
there. She glanced around in the dark and soon spotted the huddled form of a
young child in the corner. He was sobbing uncontrollably and hiding his face in
his small hands.

She
picked up the toddler and held him close. “There, there,” she whispered. “I
will protect you from those bad men.”

Signe
listened for a moment to the sounds of the other room. The violent struggle
seemed to have come to an end, which could only mean that Devlin was dead. He
had probably killed at least half of her subordinates in the process, but that
did not seem to matter to Signe at the moment.

She
finally had her revenge.

Signe
smiled in satisfaction and climbed back out the window with her newly adopted
nephew in her arms.

***

Kendan
turned away from the antechamber of the Threshold of Zonne. He fell to his
knees facing the entrance where Adesina and Ravi stood waiting.

“I
cannot,” he gasped. “I cannot!”

Adesina
was shocked to see tears running down his face.

“If
you cannot accept what you see as truth, you cannot pass,” reminded Ravi.

Kendan
continued to shake his head, and they knew he could go no farther.

“Must
we leave him here?” asked Adesina in desperation. She had been counting on
Kendan’s help to defeat Basha.

“We
have no alternative,” replied Ravi grimly.

Adesina
turned to face the antechamber with no small amount of trepidation. If what
Kendan had seen was enough to stop him from moving forward, would she be strong
enough to overcome it?

I
will stay by your side, Ma’eve. Our Joining should allow us to face it
together.

Keeping
this thought firmly in mind, Adesina squared her shoulders and took a single
step into the room.

***

If
Adesina hadn’t known any better, she would have thought that she was Dreaming.
The barrier simulated the same vivid, yet impossibly omniscient, feeling.

Ravi
stood beside her, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

She
was not alone.

They
were in a small cottage that was packed full of people. A bed was in the center
of the room and everyone was pressing in on it, trying to be as close as they
could to the occupant.

A
withered old man was nestled in the bed among blankets, which had been wrapped
around him with great care. His hair was white and his face was shriveled, but
Adesina immediately knew who he was.

“L’avan.”

It
was clear that he was dying, and he was surrounded by his eleven adopted sons.

“Father?”
said a man with golden hair. “It is I, L’aslo. Father, can you hear me?”

L’avan’s
eyes fluttered and his voice wheezed out an unintelligible response.

A
silver-haired man leaned forward. “Father, we are all finally assembled, as you
asked. O’nan rode all night, and he has just arrived. Father, what did you wish
to tell us?”

L’avan
was so weak that he could barely form words. “I…swore…to
give…prophecy…before…dying…”

“A
prophecy?” repeated L’aslo in surprise.

Murmurs
ran through the group of men and they exchanged startled glances. Adesina
wanted to quiet them, because L’avan had already continued speaking.

His
words could not be heard among the other voices, and L’aslo gestured to his
brothers frantically.

“Hush!
He is trying to give us the prophecy.” He turned back to the dying man.
“Father, could you say that again?”

L’avan
was oblivious to what was happening around him. It was as if he was in a trance
while he spoke. His words were a whisper, and they could only be heard by a
careful listener.

“…
Look, therefore, to
the advent of the Threshold Child. One who is of this people yet not of this
people. One who bears all gifts, Dreams as friends, sees as the enemy and shall
be called the bird of prey. This is the one who stands on the Threshold of a
New World. This is the one who will save my children from the slow destruction
of their atrophy and lead them back to the light of their purpose.”

L’aslo leaned forward. “Is that all of it, Father? Father?
Father!”

L’avan was gone.

The eleven adopted sons wept in silence, bidding their beloved
parent farewell. Then, they quietly left the cottage so they could discuss what
the last words of L’avan meant.

Adesina and Ravi looked at each other in concern. They both knew
that the first part of what L’avan had been trying to say had been lost to his
sons.

The
prophecy was incomplete.

***

Adesina
and Ravi stood among a mass of pine trees, and an overlook of a wide valley
revealed that they were on a mountain. There was something familiar about the
valley below, but Adesina couldn’t quite identify it.