The Spirit Heir (8 page)

A crack.

Resting between the stones was a crack—long and thin, barely even visible but definitely there. Was that where the phantom disappeared?

Bending down, Rhen found the break in the stone and followed it up, over, back down again. Large and rectangular in shape—did he dare say it was a door?

Not sure if he was losing his mind, Rhen pushed with all of his might against the frame. Which, even with the days spent in bed, should have been enough to open a door.

But nothing.

Stepping back with a curse on his lips, Rhen sighed and looked around, trying to see beyond the halo of light that surrounded him, wondering if a clue waited in the dark. Right at the corner of his vision, a metal sconce rested on the wall.

Brows furrowing, Rhen reached out hesitantly.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," he muttered, before yanking on the iron brackets.

The sconce cranked down, releasing a latch, and the door twisted open with a resounding bang. Rhen stood with his mouth hanging open, disbelief widening his eyes. And then a grin crept over his lips and a soft laugh escaped.

Shaking his head, Rhen stepped forward into the narrow passage. After a few minutes, the space widened into a cavernous room. Unlike every other spot in the castle, these walls were a mix of rough gray stone and dirt. And Rhen realized it was not a room built for this palace, but a cave, damp and dripping, naturally existing. Someone, a very long time ago, wanted to access this secret room that his ancestor had buried under a city.

But why?

The mist waited across the space, back in the shape of a man, pointing at the wall. But this time, Rhen knew why. Drawings were scratched into the stone. Rough and coarse, the faint lines were made nearly invisible by the passage of time.

"This is what you wanted to show me?" Rhen asked.

The phantom nodded, seemingly content for the first time since contacting Rhen.

He stepped closer, brushing his fingers over the rock. Crudely drawn men and beasts, that was all he could make out. Four human figures were sketched, and below each lay some sort of animal that Rhen did not recognize. And below each of them, a unique symbol of swirling lines.

Rhen stepped back. More drawings circled the walls in various lines, almost as though it were some sort of language, a foreign one he did not know how to read. More figures of men and women. Something that looked like food. Another symbol that could be weapons. Maybe these were depictions of a great war, an ancient one?

Rhen edged along the wall, taking everything in, but it was a jumble. If this was the phantom's message, he had chosen the wrong recipient. Yet something stirred in the pit of Rhen's stomach, an instinctual understanding. His gut tightened, bringing an ounce of longing to his heart, a strong yearning to his veins, but for what Rhen did not know. All he knew was that something on these walls called out to him—something within him understood the mysterious message.

"What—" Rhen turned, about to ask a question, needing to explore the odd sensations coiling in his muscles.

But he froze.

The phantom winked out of existence, mist dissolving into the air, but it was too late. Rhen had inadvertently touched it. His fingers had brushed just barely through the gray coils, but one small bit of contact was enough.

Ice traveled up his veins, stilling his limbs, hardening his body until he could not move. His heart stopped beating. His breath paused. Rhen's mouth fell open, but no sound came out. Not even a scream. It was as though time had stopped, but the flames on his torch still flickered eerily over the walls.

Off balance, Rhen's body started to tip, slipping slowly over until his weight shifted and the fall came swiftly. The floor slammed against his side, making Rhen's muscles scream in pain, but the burn warmed his frozen body, pushing the chill away. Gradually, his body relaxed, molding against the contours of the ground.

Rhen tested his muscles, breathing heavily as he eased into a seated position.

What in the gods was that?

The figure was gone and far in the distance, Rhen heard bells chime through the castle, calling for dinner. He would find no answers tonight.

But he could find one thing. One person.

Jinji.

She was the only human in the kingdom who would believe him.

5

JINJI

~ RAYFORT ~

Lost again.

Jinji shook her head. The forest always had such obvious signs—dirt padded down by the constant step of feet, tree branches bending in unique shapes, the soft trickle of a stream, or the direction of the breeze. Such easy methods to travel by. In the woods, she was never lost.

But surrounded by white walls, all the same with no character to tell them apart, Jinji was utterly confounded. And she had been so certain of her direction, too.

After watching Rhen fall to the ground, an instinctual gasp escaped her lips and before Jinji even realized she had moved, her feet were carrying her across the overpass and down a staircase. At the time, there seemed no doubt that her movements swept her closer to Rhen, pulled by a mysterious force toward him. But the practice yard never came into view. She could not even find a door to the outside.

And now she wandered, looking for any signs of familiarity, but finding none. The halls were growing more crowded, leaving her increasingly flustered. But Jinji pasted a small smile across her lips, determined after her conversation with the queen never to let these people get the best of her again.

Bells chimed, ringing across the stone.

Jinji jerked with surprise, almost letting the curses she so often heard Rhen mutter escape her lips. But she bit down, containing the frustrated words when she noticed that none of the other men or women around looked the least bit surprised. Instead, they collectively paused, and then moved as one like a rolling tide.

Determined to blend in, Jinji followed the human current as it wove through the castle, still brightly lit by the clear sky just beginning to grow pale from the falling sun. After a while, the stream of people began to slow, congested in one spot until Jinji realized where she had been led.

The dining hall.

Stepping through the massive wooden door, Jinji paused, shifting to the left and out of the way as people filed past her.

A lump clogged her throat.

The last time she had been in this room, Rhen was dying. The memory still stung, causing her breath to slow until she was gasping for air.

The tables were new, barely worn. The walls were blank, waiting for tapestries. Silverware gleamed from the tabletops, sparkling in the candlelight. Yet black scorch marks still decorated the floor, faint but visible. No matter how many times these white stones were polished clean, the memory could not be erased. The castle would never forget, nor would its people.

Eyes following the lines to their center, Jinji stared at the spot where Rhen had sucked the flames into his chest. The spot where he had been stabbed. The spot his blood had pooled, escaping into a circle around his body.

What had everyone else seen when she ran to the queen? A mad woman? A deranged guard? Even with all of the time alone in the dungeons, Jinji never wondered how she had been revealed. Had the spirits exploded around her? What happened in those memories she could not recall? In those long moments that found her transported to the dungeons, hidden out of sight, and invaded by a foreign soul?

Jinji glanced away, lifting her head. There was no reason to dwell on minutes she would never get back. The shadow had stolen them. Eyes focusing, Jinji searched the tables. Men and women sat in familiar groups, chatting casually, not even aware of her existence in the corner, concealed behind the shadow of the open door.

"Jin!"

The shout echoed across the entire room, reverberating, seemingly growing louder as it traveled toward her. The room grew quiet. As one, heads turned, curious and then accusing.

Rhen, oblivious, stood from the head table and ran down the length of the room, boots like thunder in the silence.

"The gods, Jin! I've been looking for you for—"

And then Rhen stopped—stopped talking, stopped moving, maybe even stopped breathing. Everything about him stilled, aside from his eyes, which widened and moved up, then down, along the contours of her body.

Heat flared against her cheeks, making Jinji squirm under his scrutiny. But it was painfully obvious what had happened. For a moment, she had been Jin again—his best friend, his confidant. And then Rhen remembered the truth.

"You can still call me Jin," she whispered, hoping to keep the conversation private from the eagerly listening ears around them.

For a moment, Rhen remained unaffected. Then the left side of his lip rose, bringing a lopsided grin to his face and a slight twinkle to his eyes. "Good," he said, and offered his arm, "because that whole Jinji thing was just a little too much for my newly healed mind to remember."

Heart swelling, Jinji tried to contain her overly excited smile. Instead, she bowed her head, shrinking back just slightly as a new awareness of their closeness hit. Reaching out, she slipped her arm through his, resting her fingers on his forearm.

"Come on," Rhen urged, stepping forward.

Keeping her eyes downcast, Jinji focused on the stones beneath their feet—the way she took two steps for each one of Rhen's, and the way he slowed down to help her keep up. Still, the shiver tickling her spine was difficult to ignore. It whispered that everyone was staring, that eyes were boring through her body. A gentle hum rose through the air behind them, stirring the silence with the buzz of gossip.

Jinji snuck a peek at Rhen, but his eyes were forward, unaware as he marched them unfalteringly closer to the royal table.

"Whylrhen," the queen yelped. Beside her, Whyllem placed his hand out, silencing his mother as he stood.

Rhen halted, finally aware of the scene, and he spared a quick apologetic glance at Jinji—sad, sorry eyes she recognized.

"Brother," he said loudly, so the words would not be misunderstood from any corner of the room. "My guest, Lady Jinji, will be dining with us tonight."

Lady Jinji.

The words rolled over her, sending a sense of calm down her limbs despite the situation. Coming from his lips, they sounded warm—filled with acceptance. And maybe something else, something Jinji would not let herself think on.

"We do not have a place set," the queen commented, voice light as though in jest. But her eyes were hard.

Rhen looked from one side to the other, noting the empty seats—ones his brother and father once filled. "I believe we have room."

"Of course we do. Please, join us," Whyllem added, spreading his arm to the side and welcoming them to sit. His smile was easy, but his gaze held the promise of a future conversation—the content of which Jinji could only imagine. Sure, she was revealed as a woman. And sure, she had been rescued from the dungeon only a few days ago. But still, the hostility overwhelmed her. Why?

Rhen ushered her to the other side of the table, his face somewhat blank. What memories ran through his mind? She itched to find out, but if Rhen wanted her to know, he would offer the words willingly. And knowing what last occurred in this room, they might be too painful, too private, too difficult.

Keeping her lips firmly pressed together, Jinji sat facing the room as Rhen took the chair beside her. Venomous stares nailed her to the wooden seat and she swallowed, trying her best to remain calm. But when the silence grew too great for her to handle, Jinji leaned to the side, murmuring, "Why are they so angry with me?"

Rhen released an airy laugh, not at all filled with humor. "They are not angry with you." He sighed, shaking his head.

"Then what is going on? Is this one of those newworlder things I would not understand?"

"Yes," he said, holding his gaze forward. "My mother, along with every other lord and lady in this room I'm sure, is worried that I am courting you."

Rhen turned, opening his mouth to continue, but his jaw hung limp as their eyes met. Lightning filled Jinji's veins, zapping her every sense to life. For a moment, the room felt brighter, more alive. Heart pounding, she tried to still her suddenly shaking hands.

"But you’re not…" Jinji whispered. The words filled the small space between them, hanging there like a question needing to be answered.

Rhen shook his head slowly, gaze never leaving hers as the heat continued to build between them.

"No," he breathed the word, barely making a sound. Then his eyes dipped down, singeing her lips, drying her throat.

Time seemed to stop.

The room around them disappeared, fading out of existence.

Then Rhen's entire body twitched and he suddenly looked to his plate, breathing heavily. The moment snapped in two—the world flooded back, awareness overwhelming as the stares turned even more accusing.