Page 65 of Legacy of the Heirs
Propping the book up, Sadira began reading, hoping her display of the book’s cover would entice whoever could help her. She flicked through pages of potions, wishing she had ink to mark those of interest to her, and after several turns, she settled on a page about objects with the words ‘Magical Imbuement’ outlined at the top. She frowned at a sketch of jewellery below. The page on the right was indecipherable, written in a language she did notrecognise. Sadira looked up to where Caellum stood, accepting the two goblets being handed to him. The leather pouch hung at his side, home to the other half of the talisman.Did the Wiccans help to create the talismans?She read the first page on the left, written in her own language, when Caellum approached.
“It is often found that jewellery is the most commonly imbued item. Many have approached Wiccans over the years with pure and impure intentions for their romantic requests. However, other items can be imbued with power, too: goblets with the ability to kill its drinker, clothing that allows the person to mimic their original owner, and books reciting to the reader what they wish to hear, or transporting them to the places within.” Sadira scoffed, beginning to doubt the truth in the book. “It is not uncommon for swords to be imbued.”
Swords.
As Caellum placed the goblet down on the table and slid in beside her, two more bodies joined on the opposite side of the booth. Sadira met the inquisitive stare of a pale, red-headed beauty with hair so long it fell below the table in curls. A man with short greying hair and a bushy beard sat beside her, leaning on his forearms as he glanced around the room with a twitch in his eye. Sadira cleared her throat and placed her hand on Caellum’s.
“Can we help you?” Sadira asked with a sweet smile. The pair exchanged a look and huddled close. The man leaned forward and positioned his back to the room, shielding their expressions and words from any curious revellers. The woman glanced over the man’s shoulder, her eyes scanning the room before facing Sadira.
“We have been put on this path to help you—to help you all,” she said in a voice that floated on air. Sadira kept her face neutral.
“And how are you to do that?” she asked. The woman reached forward, pointing at the drawing in the book.
“I can tell you how our people imbued the sword,” she whispered.
Caellum tensed.
“What sword?” he asked. The woman’s head snapped to him, and she narrowed her eyes.
“You know which sword, usurper.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Larelle
Larelle tried to recall any military or tactical conversations had between her father and brother—anything to guide her escape. She thought of Elisara and Nyzaia and questioned what they would do, having been trained in such matters. Yet even if Larelle did escape, she had no experience in hand-to-hand combat like the other queens, should the two men follow. If she ever left this place, perhaps she would learn.
But for now, Larelle was left with her instincts and a burning determination to see her daughter. She pictured her last memory of Zarya’s face as Lillian ushered her away, and her gut wrenched at the thought of her midnight blue eyes filled with tears and worry for her mother. What had Alvan told her? Zarya was intuitive for a young girl and would see through any lie. Larelle kept her head high and interlocked her hands, confined within the chains. She refused to leave her daughter.
Osiris smirked, leaning against the cave wall.Arrogant.
“We can play this game of silent treatment as long as you like, Queen Larelle, but it will only extend the time I spend cutting into your skin with my claws.” She did not baulk but her eyes drifted to his hand as his fingers shifted into those of the creatures.
“You have not asked a specific question,” she said, focusing on the water lapping in the distance rather than Osiris’ face. He pushed off the wall.
“What do you know of Thassena?” he asked, but Larelle did not need to feign confusion. He cocked his head. “Huh. Nothing.”
“What about Eresydon? Asynthos?” asked the young boy.
“Arik!” Osiris snapped. “Do not give her information if she knows nothing of Thassena.” Larelle tucked the words into a pocket in her mind, though she did not know whether they would ever prove to be beneficial. She refrained from asking if they were people or places. Osiris hummed and stalked closer, placing a finger under her chin. Larelle glared at him as his eyes bored into hers, her reflection shimmering in his dark eyes. “Perhaps you are further behind than we thought. And the sword—what do you know of the sword?” Her eyebrows must have moved a fraction as he said, “Ah, there we go. She knowssomething.” The gold rings in his eyes briefly flared, and he frowned. “But not enough…”
His gaze snagged on something behind her, and Larelle turned as Osiris walked into the part of the cave where she had been held captive. She saw it clearer in the light. The crevice where she had remained crouched against the wall was coated in emerald algae; she dreaded to think how the back of her dress looked. A mismatched, unbalanced collection of rocks piled at the back of the cave as though gathered by a child. Osiris stroked the trickle of water Larelle had drawn from to cure her thirst until hooking his hand over a small ledge. A splash followed as he met a deeper rock pool, but by the grunt that followed, he was not content with it.
Larelle frowned as Osiris traced his hands over the rocks and the wall behind it. She turned to Arik, the younger and less experienced of the two. She could make a break for it. Larelle glanced back at the opening. Would the cuffs prevent her from breathing under water? Would they take that much of her power? The boy remained focused on Osiris, but when Larelle moved towards freedom, her foot betrayed her as she stepped in a puddle, the resounding splash regaining Arik’s attention.
“Ah, there you are,” Osiris hummed. Larelle faced him, but he was not addressing her. His pale hands trailed the back wall until stopping at a thin trickle of water, flowing from a minuscule hole in the cave wall that joined the pool his hand had been splashing in moments before.
He withdrew his hand to display a collection of pebbles on his palm. Larelle tried to decipher his smug smile as he traced one with his thumb. Osiris tossed the pebbles from one hand to the other as he strode back towards Larelle, his feet splashing as he re-entered the light. He stared out over the ocean, and the pebbles clacked in his palms, moving from hand to hand. Eventually, he stopped and held one up to examine in the light.
The sun reflected off the smooth stone, but there was something imperfect about it as she noted its jagged edge. Something in Larelle’s chest tugged, urging her closer. Arik beat her to it and stepped towards Osiris, blocking her view of the object.
“Is that it?” Arik murmured, and Osiris hummed, further piquing Larelle’s interest. The pebbles clattered against the stone floor as Osiris dropped all but one and turned to face her again.
“Do you know what this is, Queen Larelle?” His voice was silken and smug, knowing she did not. He revelled in holding that information over her, yet Larelle remained quiet and glanced between him and the piece in his hand. “There will be a time when you and your rulers require this, along with three others.” Larelle turned over his words.Why would they need a pebble?Osiris grinned. “Imagine what you could do if you possess all from Ithyion.”
Larelle’s eyes narrowed at the reference to the kingdom he and his fellow creatures stole from her ancestors. “All from Ithyion.”Replaying his words, she willed herself to remember why it sounded so familiar. She stepped forward.The prophecy.
“What do you know?” she asked, a threatening edge to her voice. Osiris threw the pebble in the air, catching it each time.
