Blood Legacy: Heir to the Throne (34 page)

“And,” Ryan said, flipping the final sword upward and to her side, “my father.”

Victor caught the sword as he stepped from behind Ryan, appearing almost out of thin air. His eyes were fully on the soldiers as well. The guards in front took a step back as he revealed himself, even though their numbers still greatly exceeded the four standing in front of them. Something about this furious dark-haired, dark-eyed man seemed familiar to them. And the thought that this creature had actually sired the demon was immobilizing.

The four attacked and swiftly forced the guards rearward. Victor, Kusunoki, and Aeron quickly adapted to the deadly swords, and appendages began flying, most no longer connected to a torso. Victor, too, noted the strange burning sensation of the spattered blood from the enemy, but he pushed the distracting thought from his mind as Ryan had. He kept close to her, fighting back-to-back as they had for centuries. Aeron and Kusunoki created a similar pair, and when the four fought to the center, they created an impenetrable circle of flashing steel. They moved as one, each defending the other, attacking in the openings their companion swords created.

Victor was astounded at the strength of these men. Even he was beginning to feel fatigue at the tremendous strain of parrying the force of their blows. He glanced over at Ryan. He knew she had been ill, and she had been battling considerably longer than he had. Still, she was fighting with tremendous skill, her ineffable speed countering any strength advantage the enemy might have.

Kusunoki, too, was stunned at the physical power of the soldiers. And although the foursome continued to slay the surrounding forces, more and more guards began to pour onto the terrace. Obviously some signal had been given that the principle battle was here, and troops were being mobilized appropriately. Kusunoki glanced at Aeron, who was slaughtering the surrounding enemy with cold efficiency, then over at Ryan who was doing so with elegant grace. He was grimly pleased, but his countenance darkened as even more soldiers appeared. Although they had cleared an area around them, the sheer number of the enemy was beginning to press inexorably forward.

Ryan, too, glanced around her, with a quick look behind to ensure that Susan and Drake were still untouched. No one had broken their circle to reach her son and friend, although the battle was getting nearer to them. Ryan sliced through a nearby soldier, then turned to the entrance of the terrace. There was no way to stop the onslaught of soldiers pouring onto the balcony. She glanced around her, searching for any way out of their current predicament, and could see none. She glanced at her father, who caught her eye, and at Aeron, who looked to her with an equally grim expression. She thought furiously as her sword came up as if possessing reflexes of its own, blocking an incoming blow that she could not possibly have seen. She dispatched the owner of the attacking weapon with ruthless efficiency, still looking around her with studied concentration.

Ryan turned back again, this time making eye contact with Drake, who gazed at her somberly. Kusunoki glanced over, noting that Ryan seemed distracted. He felt a flash of fear as a sword came arcing out of the crowd toward her, but again, her sword came up as if of its own volition, swatting the offending weapon away and dispatching its owner.

Kusunoki turned and cut through two men who were pressing his corner, but again he had the urge to turn and look at Ryan. She had the strangest expression on her face, one of intense concentration, possessing an otherworldly quality as if what she was concentrating on was a long way away. Her swords continued to move as if they were alive, animated by some lethal force that required no effort from her. And stunningly, the swords began to move faster.

Kusunoki countered another slashing blow, but still his eyes returned to Ryan. They had sparred many times over the centuries and he was well-aware of her quickness. He had seen her move so swiftly she was an impression rather than an actual presence. But what she was doing now transcended even that. She was moving with such speed she seemed to be multiple images, with not merely two swords, but four, and then eight. Even with Kusunoki’s preternatural eyesight, he was beginning to lose her in a blur. And even now, she gathered herself as if to move into an even higher gear.

And then something extremely strange happened. Some great shift occurred, rippling outward in a wave that overtook all who surrounded her. Ryan no longer appeared to be moving quickly, rather everything slowed down except her. She moved leisurely at normal speed. Everyone around her, however, was frozen or moving in very slow motion.

Kusunoki stared in wonder. As the wave rippled outward and overtook Victor, then himself, those surrounding him began moving in the same sluggish motion. The wave seemed to have no effect on him and Victor, however, and they were capable of moving at normal speed as well. A glance in Aeron’s direction revealed that he, too, benefitted from whatever strange phenomenon was taking place. Victor glanced over at Ryan, still a study of concentration, but he did not hesitate to take advantage of the speed disparity. He began slicing at all of those surrounding him.

Kusunoki, too, began striking at the enemy around him. As they fell, one by one, he realized the soldiers were still moving at normal speed. It was the four of them that were moving at a speed beyond possibility, as if Ryan had taken all of them with her when she had shifted into that higher plane. Within moments, or perhaps seconds, hundreds of soldiers were dead upon the terrace.

A great thunderclap of noise stunned Kusunoki, and all movement shifted violently back to normal. Ryan had an odd look on her face, as if she herself was not certain what had occurred. Kusunoki was not sure if the clap of noise had been an actual sound or something that had occurred in his head. Aeron, too, shook his head as if to rid himself of mental echoes. Victor watched Ryan with some misgiving. He approached and put his hand on her shoulder.

“Are you alright?” he asked, concern in his dark eyes.

Ryan stared up at her father. “I am,” she began, then paused uncertainly. “I am fine.”

She glanced over at Susan, who was still clutching Drake tightly. The little boy watched his mother solemnly. Aeron, whose eyes had been on Ryan, followed her gaze. He froze at the sight of the small boy.

Drake turned his attention to the pale-haired, blue-eyed man on the terrace and examined him for a moment. He then smiled shyly and buried his face in Susan’s shoulder. Aeron watched the small creature, a perfect little replica of his mother, and in that moment knew he was lost to both of them.

Ryan smiled at her son’s antics, and it seemed to push away some of her disorientation. A strange flitting noise drew her attention as a silvery-blue arrow lodged into the marble at her feet. So strong was the material of the shaft and so sharp the arrowhead, it pierced the marble without cracking it, lodging firmly in the surface. A silvery, metallic rope was attached near the fletching, and Ryan recognized it as similar to her bindings, meaning it would be light and incredibly strong.

She glanced upward. Two terraces up, Kokumuo and several dozen of his warriors stood bearing wicked-looking weapons, swords, lances, and cross-bows, all of the same gray-blue metallic material.

“Ala’s men have found the armory,” Ryan said.

Victor immediately grasped the significance of the attached rope. He snatched it and threw it over the side as several other arrows came flitting in. They now had an escape route.

Ryan took Drake from Susan’s arms, hugging him tightly. She turned to Victor while gesturing to Susan, then bowed mockingly.

“Would you do the honors, dear father?”

Victor bowed, just as mockingly. “Of course, my liege.” Without preamble, he picked Susan up, who could barely begin to lodge a protest before Victor was over the side and rappelling downward at breath-taking speed.

Ryan turned to Aeron. “Shall I pick you up, or do you think you can get down on your own?”

“Very funny, my dear,” Aeron replied. He glanced over at the bundle in her eyes. “Try not to drop our son on the way down.”

Ryan merely smiled, and Aeron noted as he went over the side that she had not corrected his use of pronoun.

Ryan turned to Kusunoki, prepared to make another joke when a look of concern passed over her features. Numerous footsteps could be heard in the long hallway approaching the terrace, but somehow he had the feeling that was not what attracted her attention.

Ryan moved to the edge of the terrace, still clutching her son. She glanced down at the battle that continued to take place, noting that the Others were beginning to turn the tide with the addition of the weapons that Ala’s men had found. There were casualties on both sides, but the battle was definitely shifting.

Kusunoki watched Ryan closely. There seemed to be a pensiveness about her right now, a pensiveness that was turning into sadness and resignation. She glanced over at a spot on the wall adjacent to terrace opening, and when he followed her gaze, he was surprised to see the outline of a doorway, one he was certain had not been present before. He turned back to his beloved student.

“Ryan,” he began uncertainly.

She reached up, placing her hand upon his lips to silence him. She looked down at Drake, who gazed up at her, his own expression far too enigmatic for one so young. She closed her eyes, holding her son tightly for a moment, then handed him to Kusunoki. The Asian man took the boy, but shook his head.

“Ryan, you cannot do this.”

Ryan stared at the outline of the doorway. “She has awakened,” Ryan said simply. She knelt down to pick up a bloodied sword, staring at the wicked blade. “And these will not harm her.” She turned back to him. “If Madelyn takes the battlefield, all will be lost.”

Kusunoki was insistent. “Ryan, you cannot go.”

Ryan looked down, a deep sadness on her features. “No,” she said, “I cannot stay.” She turned back to him, her eyes burning. “Take care of my son.” She pushed him toward the edge, her voice turning to steel. “You must go now. That is a command.”

Ryan turned her back on him and began walking toward the outline of the doorway. As she neared, the stone doors whispered open. She stepped into the elevator and did not look back as the doors whispered closed behind her.

Kusunoki slid to the ground, holding the rope in one hand and Drake in the other. Victor, Aeron, and Susan were waiting in the shadows for them. Victor was impatient.

“Where is Ryan?”

Susan stared at Kusunoki. The minute she had seen that he held the boy, she knew something was wrong. Victor, too, quickly assessed Kusunoki’s expression.

“No!” he cried, lunging for the rope.

Kusunoki handed the boy to Susan while making a grab for Victor.

“It was her wish, my lord,” he said through gritted teeth, holding Victor by the shoulders, “and her command.”

Victor took a step back. He, too, had felt the revival of Madelyn’s presence, but he had hoped they could escape.

“Then all of this has been for nothing.”

Kusunoki shook his head. “It is not over yet. Ryan must have some sort of plan.”

Victor squared his shoulders, and Susan was reminded of how physically similar Ryan and her father moved at times. He glanced at Susan and Drake, then at Aeron. He then addressed Kusunoki.

“You and Aeron guard Dr. Ryerson and my grandson.”

“And you?” Kusunoki asked.

Victor whirled on his heel and began stalking toward the open courtyard. “I am going to end the battle down here.”

Ryan gazed at the intricate carving on the inside walls of the elevator. The markings again seemed oddly familiar, as if their meaning was elusively near. She did not have time to ponder this odd familiarity further because in a very short time the doors whispered open once more. She stepped out of the lift, unsurprised to find herself once again in Madelyn’s chambers.

She gazed with some amusement at the gaping hole she had created earlier. It was a perfect outline of the geometric pattern she had endlessly traced during her confinement. The wind gusted through the opening, creating a low, mournful whistling.

Ryan took the stairs two at a time, pausing before the intricate carving on the doors to the inner chambers. She lightly pressed her hand to the surface, and with a quiet click, the door was released. She pushed the door inward and stepped into the inner chambers.

The room was empty. Immaculate and orderly as it had been the last time she had been in here. As the door whispered closed behind her, the chamber settled into a tomb-like silence. Out of curiosity, she placed her hand on the carvings on the inside of the door, and was not surprised when it did not respond. She would not get out as easily as she had gotten in.

Ryan turned back to the room, gazing up at the doors at its center. She remembered her last foray into the forbidden room and quelled the trepidation she felt. With a few strides, she was at the base of the stairs, and again took them two at a time. She paused at the top, staring at the engraved markings which now seemed to mock her. When she did not lift her hand, the door clicked quietly on its own and silently swung inward. Ryan took a deep breath, as always more from habit than need, and stepped into the room.