Six Heirs (36 page)

It wasn’t much.

Bowbaq wanted to be somewhere else. The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that they wouldn’t be in all this trouble if they had just avoided the cave. Once again, he had transgressed and was now suffering the unhappy consequences.

He didn’t feel sorry for himself. He felt sorry for his wife and his children. The small group of heirs that had united failed to thwart their unknown enemy’s plan. And now the Züu were going to carry out their despicable duty until they were completely finished.

Maybe he could have done something for them if he had stayed in Arkary. Or not. Anyhow, the past was the past and he couldn’t do anything to change it now.

The line reached the beach. The heirs’ skiff was still there, now joined by four other, larger boats. Bowbaq had expected this, just as he’d expected the more frightening events to follow.

No less than five Züu waited patiently on the beach. To a man, they looked just like the others they had already come face-to-face with: red cloak, shaved head, demented eyes.

Only one of them stood out from the others—his face, or rather his entire head, was painted in black and white. It mimicked the shape of a monstrous human skull, inhabited solely by two eyes that seemed eager to devour their prey.

Even the thugs seemed intimidated by these fanatics. Bowbaq noticed that none of them came near the Züu if they could avoid it. The majority of them preferred not to take their eyes off the assassins. Apparently, the Lorelien “brothers” didn’t doubt the sinister reputation of the Züu.

Two of the Züu held their dreadful daggers. Two others were armed with crossbows, no less dangerous. The man with the painted skull was the only one unarmed. And yet he seemed to be the most threatening.

“Where are the others?” he asked one of the thieves.

He spoke perfect Lorelien, but there was something disconcerting about the sight of this enormous talking skull. The man swallowed painfully, cursing the gods for choosing him to answer the assassin’s question.

“The two kids got awa—will soon be brought here,” he immediately amended.

“And the Ramgrith?”

The man took a step back, and lowered his eyes in silence. Bowbaq noticed that the man feared his boss more than Bowbaq himself feared his abductors.

The Zü turned away and took a few steps.

“So your work is unfinished,” he announced in a clear voice. “You know what you still have to do.”

The thug didn’t wait to be told twice and immediately left for the island’s interior. Six of his comrades raced after him, all too happy to get away from the madmen with poisoned daggers.

The two men that held Corenn, Rey, and Bowbaq hostage moved to do the same, but the Skull constrained them with a simple furrowing of his brow. Then he approached the prisoners, walking slowly, very slowly.

Rey laughed uproariously. The Zü stopped dead right in front of him, his arms crossed, and stared him right in the eyes, which didn’t seem to have the intended intimidating effect on the actor.

“This number, ha! I mean, honestly!” Rey jeered. “When I play bad guys in the theater, I always think they’re so stupid, absurd, mad, and old-fashioned that I never imagined such sick people really existed. But it’s true. Congratulations, really, well done,” he concluded, with another burst of laughter.

The Zü smiled faintly for a moment, then thrust two extended fingers into Rey’s throat so quickly the actor didn’t even see it coming.

Breathing suddenly became impossible, and resumed only after a moment that felt way too long for Rey, as he tried desperately to draw air into his lungs. Then a gut-wrenching nausea took hold of him, and he turned to vomit, his throat convulsing in pain.

“You’re lucky,” the Zü declared. “Four times out of five, that’s enough to kill any heretic.”

Bowbaq couldn’t believe it. These fellows were truly insane.

“Well,” the assassin continued, “we’re going to have a little talk. You, me, and Zuïa.”

Léti had never felt so alive. Three assassins were advancing on her, weapons drawn. She had no way to escape. No help was on the way, and all she had was a simple fishing knife to defend herself with.

But her rage was infinite.

All the hatred and anger toward the Züu and their henchmen, and the sorrow that had been welling up inside her until then, now flooded her entire being.

All she could feel now was fury.

Never had she felt so ready. So powerful. Her entire body was responding to her frantic spirit. So much so that her senses seemed amplified.

She heard each of their steps, every sound made by her approaching enemies. She noticed their changing expressions: from mocking, derisive, and curious to cruel. She felt the sand grinding beneath her feet, the wind caressing her hair, the knife’s rough handle against her palm.

She had to force herself to unclench her jaw. While her body felt more agile than ever, her face was locked in a fierce grimace.

The three men were close to her now. She noticed every facial tic, every detail of their clothing. These images would forever be burned into her memory. But she forced herself to
focus on everything else, which was of more vital interest for the moment.

Two of the men had swords. The third had a dagger. The bearded one carried his sword in his left hand. The man with the knife had only one arm. The bald one seemed the most menacing. She should get rid of him first.

“Just come with us, don’t make a fuss,” the bald one croaked.

Léti didn’t respond, still threatening them with her knife.

“Come on now, just give it up, you’ll hurt yourself.”

She swiped the blade about a foot from his face. She didn’t want to injure him. She still refused to start this fight. But surrender was out of the question.

The bald one cursed and took a defensive position, ready to respond to any attack.

“Wait,” the one-armed man chimed in, “don’t hurt her right away. This could be fun.”

Léti faked an attack toward the man, who reared back and then continued forward with a stupid little laugh. Léti pushed back, but he drew even closer, laughing louder. The bearded one found the game to his liking and joined in, attacking her from the other side. Léti’s blade danced through the air, still not connecting with her targets. The two men amused themselves by touching her and jumping back, the bald one enjoying the show.

Léti retreated a little farther up the cliff. The abyss was right behind her.

“Eh! I bet you can’t undress her without getting bitten!”

“I’ll take that bet!”

The two men took to their game again, a vulgar gleam in their eyes. The one-armed one tore a piece off Léti’s tunic, crying out in victory.

The young woman fumed. A hand landed on her shoulder. She let her reflexes take over and her blade bit into the flesh of a wrist.

“Whore!” the bearded one screamed, clutching his wound.

He staggered backward and dropped his sword.

“Harlot! I’m bleeding like a pig!”

The game didn’t seem so funny to him anymore. Nor to the others, who stiffened up in real combat positions before closing in on her.

Now it was for real.

The Zü paced back and forth, as if searching for words. But he must have already planned what he was going to say long before now, Corenn thought.

He stopped, and for a long moment contemplated the sunrise over the Median Sea. The Mother doubted he could appreciate the beauty of the sight. Finally, he turned to focus on them.

“For two of you, that’s the last time the sun will rise.”

Rey, Corenn, and Bowbaq exchanged looks. Although they more or less expected very bad news, the raw truth still shocked them. Rey attempted to say something, but the beating he had endured, especially the wound to his throat, left him speechless. The sarcastic comment he wanted to deliver died in a cough.

The assassin stared at them one by one before continuing.

“Zuïa will forgive the first one of you, and only the first, who asks.”

No one moved. The Zü waited patiently before resuming.

“He who is forgiven must condemn his former accomplices. Which will essentially amount to reciting their names and where they’re hiding, starting with the Ramgrith, if he isn’t on the island.”

There was still no reaction. The Zü looked irritated.

“We will get this information one way or another. It’s simply a question of time and pain.”

“You are truly the worst person I’ve ever met,” Bowbaq commented. “Mir wouldn’t even want you for food.”

The Zü came over to stand right in front of him, fire in his eyes. The giant subconsciously covered his throat with his hand.

“I am worth one hundred of you,” the Zü sneered, losing his temper. “Any one of Zuïa’s messengers deserves more respect than all of your kings combined! The goddess’s greatness flows through us!” he concluded, raising his arms to the sky.

“Look at yourselves, the ‘heirs.’ A farmer, a delinquent, a woman, two children. You’re nothing compared to the Goddess. You’re nothing in the face of her judgment.”

Corenn had made her decision as soon as the assassin began his sermon. It was clear that there was no hope in negotiating with this maniac. Unfortunately, they had no choice but to take action.

It was best to act swiftly, before the others came back. While the Zü spoke to Bowbaq, she gave Rey a little nudge with her elbow, accompanied by a knowing look. The actor understood that the Mother was going to try something and prepared for action, though he was hurt and nauseous.

As best she could, Corenn closed her mind off to everything that surrounded her, devoting every ounce of her attention
to the crossbow the nearest Zü was holding. She roused her Will, then let it grow on its own, easily controlling it as she had learned. Her body temperature rose slightly, and wild impulses invaded her mind. Then she unleashed her Will and the crossbow string snapped with a sharp ping, leaving the object useless.

Its owner leaned over to study it more closely, and everyone turned toward him out of curiosity. Rey swung around, caught hold of the guard behind them, and violently bit the man’s hand before snatching his dagger.

No! It was too soon! Corenn didn’t have time to disarm the other crossbow. The Zü was going to shoot him!

The magician couldn’t call on her Will again so soon after releasing it once. Since she was out of practice, the feat cost her nearly all of her energy.

Horrified, she watched the assassin lift his bow and aim right at the actor, who didn’t have time to take cover.

With surprise, she saw the tip of another arrow suddenly emerge from the Zü’s eye. Then, after a moment, a second, then a third, hitting another Zü in the chest and the leg.

She searched the beach and the rocks surrounding them, not yet willing to believe the miracle. Grigán knelt at the top of a bluff one hundred feet away, firing arrow after arrow.

Corenn made her way toward him, still too exhausted by the recent use of her power to run or even think. She heard Bowbaq let out a cry behind her, and turned to find him on the ground, moaning in pain, his hands clasping the handle of a dagger stuck in his side.

The skull-faced Zü had just thrown the weapon. Toward her.