The Shadow's heir

“Look out,” said Arenadd. “She’s about to-ggngh!”

Laela yelled and put her hands over her head as pain lanced through it. As she fell to her knees, she saw Arenadd step backward and slump onto his seat, both hands grabbing at his own head.

The pain rose sharply, and Laela heard a strange, harsh voice.

This is my power.

A moment later, the pain vanished. Laela got up slowly, feeling her arms tremble. “What in the gods’ names was that?”

Oeka looked calmly at her and lay down on her belly, blinking and apparently tired.

Arenadd shuddered and gave the griffin an icy look. “Colour me impressed. But don’t try that again when Skandar’s about, or the servants will have to mop you up off the floor.”

“Ae en’oo, keeeekaree,” said Oeka, apparently unbothered.

“What was that?” Laela said again. “Oeka, what did yeh just do?”

Arenadd rubbed his broken fingers. “It would seem that your partner is a telepath. Not a common power.”

“A what?”

“She can get into people’s heads,” said Arenadd. “Break into their thoughts, probably. Even send messages from her mind into yours. It’s not very useful for that sort of thing, though, mostly because the pain stops anyone from thinking very clearly. But it’s a powerful weapon.” He smiled thinly. “I doubt anyone would interfere with her if they knew she had the power to make their heads explode.”

Laela eyed the griffin. “Tell her I said she’d better not use it on me.”

Oeka got up and came to her, rubbing her head against Laela’s hip. “Ooo ae oo,” she cooed.

“‘Never,’” Arenadd translated.

“It’s a deal, then,” said Laela. She scratched Oeka’s ear, the way she liked it. “I’m terrible for sayin’ it, but I almost hope someone tries t’mess with us just so I can see what happens next.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” said Arenadd. “But-”

There was a sound of running feet from beyond the archway, and a guard came running in. “Sire!”

Arenadd stood up. “What is it?”

The guard came to a halt and bowed hastily. “Sire, I’ve got urgent news.”

“Out with it, then,” said Arenadd.

“It’s the assassin, Sire. The one who tried to kill ye. They’ve caught him, Sire.”

Arenadd’s hand went to the handle of his sickle. “Where is he?” he said sharply.

“Down in the cells, Sire. Lady Saeddryn told me to come tell ye immediately.”

“I see.” Arenadd glanced at Laela. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

Laela was already halfway to the archway. “Oh, I’m comin’, Sire. No way I’m missin’ this.”

Arenadd ignored her and strode out of the room.

It gave Laela an uneasy feeling to be back in the prison under the Eyrie, even though this time the guards bowed and stood aside when they saw her coming. She even saw the very same guard who had dragged her out of her bed on the morning of her arrest, but when he saw her, he bowed his head to hide his face from her and made a hasty exit at the first opportunity.

Arenadd paid no attention. He followed the head of the prison guard along a corridor, his hand resting on his sickle all the while. Laela, keeping close behind him with Oeka on her heels, thought he walked with a terrible purpose. She pitied whoever was waiting for them in the cells.

Ahead, a familiar figure was waiting for them by a cell door.

“Lord Torc.” Arenadd came to a stop. “What’s happened?”

The Master of Law inclined his head. “Sire. We’ve got him in here.”

“When was he caught?” Arenadd said curtly. “Where?”

“They found him trying to break into the Eyrie,” said Torc. “Very early this morning. He was put into the cells straightaway, but after I happened to see him, I realised he fitted your description of the man who attacked you.”

“Has he been interrogated?”

“Briefly, yes, but. . we won’t get anything out of him, Sire.” Torc’s face was pale.

“We’ll see about that,” Arenadd growled. “Open the door.”

“Sire-”

Arenadd freed his sickle. “Do it.”

Torc silently opened the door. It was well lit beyond, and Arenadd went in.

The prisoner was hunched on the wooden bench provided, but he looked up when Arenadd entered.

His face was small and round, but whatever more definite features it might have had once were impossible to recognise. Something had left three deep slashes at an angle from his forehead to his chin, cutting through his nose and twisting his mouth into a permanent snarl.

Even Arenadd faltered at the sight of him. “You.” He pointed the sickle at the man’s horrible face. “I know you. I knew I knew you, you son of a bitch!”

The scarred man’s dark eyes had gone wide. His mouth opened as if he were going to speak, but he made a sick, gurgling sound instead, and blood splashed onto his chin.

Arenadd’s own eyes glittered with hate. “I saw you in the war,” he said. “You stabbed me five times in the chest. I’d remember those scars anywhere. I thought you died in the fire. And then-” He ran his fingers over the sickle blade, almost lovingly. “Then you stabbed me again and threw me in the river. Don’t you ever give up?”

The scarred man said nothing.

Arenadd moved closer, until the point of the sickle was almost touching the man’s deformed nose. “How did you get into the city?” he asked softly. “How did you hide for so long? Answer me!”

Still no reply.

“Answer me, damn you!”

The mouth opened again, the lips trying to form words, but all that emerged were hideous wet garglings. The man stopped suddenly, choking, and lurched forward. Blood had matted the front of his tunic, and more coated his lips.

Arenadd stopped. “What. .?”

“Sire.” Torc appeared behind him. “Sire, I told you there’s no point. He can’t speak.”

“Something happened to his mouth?” said Arenadd, not taking his eyes off the shaking figure in front of him.

“He’s got no tongue,” said Torc. His voice was low with revulsion. “It’s been torn out, Sire.”

Arenadd didn’t flinch. He looked at the prisoner’s hands-bloodied, pawing uselessly at his mouth. “His fingers are gone. So he can’t write anything down, either.” He turned at last, and his eyes met Torc’s. “How did this happen?”

“I don’t know, Sire. He was like this when we took him.”

“Then how in the gods’ names could he break into the Eyrie?”

“I don’t know, Sire,” said Torc. “But look at him.”

“I already have, Torc. There’s nothing we can do to him that hasn’t already been done.”

“He’s insane, Sire,” said Torc. “If he wasn’t before this happened to him, he is now. A man can only take so much before he snaps.”

Arenadd touched his twisted fingers. “I know, Torc.”

“Arenadd?” Laela’s voice interrupted. “What’s goin’ on? Is it him?”

“Get out of here, my lady,” Torc said sharply. “This isn’t-”

“No.” Arenadd put a hand on his shoulder. “Let her see. Get out of the cell, Torc. I don’t need you here just now.”

The Master of Law hesitated. “Yes. . Sire.”

As he went out through the door, Laela came in. “What’s. .? Oh, shit.” She lurched away as if someone had punched her in the stomach. Recovering her balance, she leant against the cell wall and breathed deeply, swearing.