Trial of Fire (57 page)

Andrew didn’t look at her, but his face betrayed his pain. He struggled to his feet, the tree behind him shuddering with his effort. Then he began to pace a few steps up and down, still holding his stomach with one arm, the other gesturing wildly, making branches fall from trees in every direction. The entire forest was under attack.

‘Thought I’d forgotten. Thought the nightmares would … but they kept telling me, warning me and I wouldn’t listen. You’re in danger. My father tried to kill you. He hit you, I remember. I saw it. I wanted to stop him but I couldn’t, I was so … so helpless – but you could have stopped him. Why didn’t you, Mother? Why didn’t you?’

‘Because he would have known the truth about me. He hated sorcerers more than anything—’

‘But you could have done
something
, Mother, you could have. But he beat you and you killed him! You struck out at him, and you killed him, so that Robert wouldn’t die. But you didn’t control that power, did you? You couldn’t. Nobody can. That power is … is – it’s not supposed to be controlled. It’s evil. I’ve got
your
power and
his
evil inside me and the two together shouldn’t be allowed to survive. Just get away, Mother. You can’t help me. I don’t want to hurt you.’

‘Oh, Andrew, of course you can control that power – and it’s not evil!’ Jenn took another step closer, lacing her fingers together to stop herself from reaching out to him. Each step he took made her shake inside, each
grimace of pain echoed inside her. This was all her fault. He remembered everything, though she had always hoped the memories would never return. But she couldn’t take back that night, couldn’t take back the fact that she had killed Eachern, and she
had
done it to save Robert’s life.

This was her own fault. She should have insisted on talking to him years ago, before it could come to this. This must be the reason his powers had not developed before: because he thought such power was responsible for his father’s death.

Serin’s blood! Jenn came to a halt. Andrew was still pacing, his skin flashing a ghostly blue glow into the night, and behind the tree she could see Robert in the distance, Finnlay a little behind him, both watching, waiting for her to—

Just as she’d hoped Andrew would be free of the Prophecy, she’d hoped this day would never come. And with it, hand in hand, came acceptance that the Prophecy did rule their lives. Andrew had been born to them for a reason, they were each there for a reason, and so too the Prophecy’s ending had a reason. For all that she had tried to get Robert to accept that fact, she had never really looked at it herself, had never really accepted that it would probably mean her own death.

Once more she looked back at Robert, tall, strong, determined and passionate. Never once had he failed to give everything he had to his cause – but she had always held back, afraid of too many things, of what might be and what couldn’t be. For years she’d kept truths from him and paid for that, made them both pay for that.

But she couldn’t do that any more. The time had arrived for her to sacrifice what little control she’d had over their futures. She could not hold onto the truth and let this beautiful boy of hers destroy himself over a lie.

And she couldn’t let that beautiful man destroy himself over his fate.

‘Andrew,’ she began, her voice thick, her eyes stinging with tears she’d never before shed. ‘This is not what you think.’

‘Please, Mother!’ he groaned and faced her, his eyes boring holes into her. ‘Go! I can’t hold it in much longer. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt anybody! Tell Robert I’m sorry. I can’t be King for him. I never could. I don’t know why he wanted me when my father was such a monster! I don’t want somebody like me to be King of Lusara. Now please, Mother—’

‘Andrew, listen!’ Jenn came forward again, reaching out a hand to him, desperately praying he would hold still. ‘Your father … he—’ She swallowed hard, finding the words was suddenly difficult. She had rehearsed this moment so many times over the years, but never once imagined these circumstances. ‘Your father wasn’t—’

‘He was a monster and I’m glad you killed him!’ Andrew’s glow flared then, and the ground groaned beneath his feet, making her stumble. She fell forward and on instinct, he reached out to catch her.

His skin burned under her hands, but she didn’t step back. She held on tight. There was no turning back now.

With her voice little more than an ugly whisper, she said, ‘Oh, Andrew, do you honestly think I would let Robert put you on the throne if your father had really been Eachern?’

Breathing hard, he swallowed, her meaning unclear to him. That mystification was enough to make the tears tumble down her face, and he reached up to brush them away, a gentle gesture that only produced more.

‘Your … real father would never hurt me, Andrew. He would die first. You don’t have Eachern’s evil inside you, I promise you.’

Andrew’s frown deepened, his gaze searching her face. ‘My
real
father? What does that mean? Who is my
real
father?’

Jenn opened her mouth to speak, but a familiar voice intervened—

‘I am.’

*

Micah left his horse at the end of town, and ran first to the ale house. He found Patric, Joshi and two others there, gave them the word and headed directly over to the tavern. One by one he found the men, giving them Robert’s orders. The haste of their exit caused a few interested looks, but he couldn’t do anything about that now. They had no time left.

He paused in the shadows near his horse then, going back in his mind, counting each of the men, making sure they were all accounted for. And even as he waited, they rode past, in twos and threes, taking the road at first before cutting away into the countryside.

They were well trained, had been taught all Robert knew about how to evade capture, how to blend into the natural surroundings, how to look like a local. If they had any time at all, the men would definitely get away.

Sure now that he had spoken to everyone, Micah mounted up and turned for the road back to where he’d left Andrew. But in the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of familiar colour, illuminated by the moonlight.

Guilde! The vanguard arriving already! They must be marching through the night. By Serin’s blood!

With that, he threw caution to the wind, and kicked his horse hard. After a few minutes, he glanced over his shoulder, but there was no pursuit. With his heart thumping madly in his chest, he kicked his horse harder, pressing himself to its back to encourage greater speed.

*

‘Father! Come quickly!’

Aiden stood and made his way across the ruined barn to where Braden was crouched by an empty window. Behind him he could hear John and Edain saddling horses, putting out the fire and gathering up their belongings.

‘What is it?’

‘Guilde! Look. There’re at least fifty of them. By the gods! Come on, we have to ride!’

His arm was grabbed and in one swift movement, he was almost dragged across the small space to the wide door on the other side of the building. He finished saddling his own horse, his fingers fumbling the buckles and straps, while Braden checked outside to make sure they had a clean path out.

‘Hurry! Damn it, Robert is going to kill me!’

Moving as fast as he could, Aiden grabbed his reins and followed John and Edain out into the night, holding his breath to listen as voices on the other side of the building grew louder.

‘They’re not supposed to be this far south yet!’ Edain hissed.

‘Come on!’ Braden whispered in reply. ‘We’ll argue about it later.’ With that, he led them along the side of the barn – but there was nowhere for them to go. Soldiers were already dismounting and running into the empty farm buildings, holding torches high in the darkness. As Aiden’s heart leapt into his throat, a shout came from behind them.

In an instant, both Salti turned and faced the assault, their swords drawn ready to fight. It took the Guildesmen no time to swarm around them, surrounding them and hemming them in.

His guards were ready to fight, but Aiden could tell it was already too late. ‘Please, put your swords down. They’ll just kill you.’

‘But, Father, we have orders you’re not to be taken.’

‘No.’ Aiden moved forward and stood between them, making them lower their weapons.

‘Father, are you sure?’ John hissed from behind.

He was. Very sure, though thoroughly surprised to discover this so late in the day. ‘Yes. I am.’

And then he turned to face the Guildesmen surrounding them, seeing dawning recognition in the eyes of more than one man.

‘By the mass,’ somebody whispered. ‘It’s the Bishop himself!’

*

Jenn started at Robert’s words, panic flooding through her, making her heart flutter.

‘Step back,’ he said, moving closer to them. ‘Now, Jenn.’

Some deep part of her was afraid for Andrew, but he wouldn’t hurt his own son, would he?

Had he known? All this time, had he known Andrew was his? She could see nothing in his face, his eyes, his body, nothing at all to indicate his thoughts. Instead, his gaze was fixed entirely on Andrew, and Andrew’s on his.

‘Step back, Jenn. Now.’ And that tone would not be brooked. Trembling, Jenn released Andrew and moved back.

Robert stood there, his eyes dark and unfathomable, holding Andrew in place, ignoring the pulse of blue rippling along his skin, the tremor in the forest from powers still uncontrolled.

Robert spoke, and where Jenn was expecting compassion, she found the exact opposite. ‘You have your father’s evil, do you? Is that the problem here? Or is it that you’re too scared to face it? How old are you? Fourteen, nearly fifteen, and you’re still too afraid to ask those questions. What kind of man do you expect to be?’

Andrew looked up at Robert, his face as open as Jenn had ever seen it. Never before had Andrew been so vulnerable, never before had Robert been so merciless.

Robert advanced, making Andrew back away. ‘You wanted to know about evil? You only needed to ask. I can tell you everything you need to know. I can tell you all about how it sits in the pit of your stomach, like a sickness, black and seething, breeding upon itself with every tidbit thrown its way. And you live with it hour after hour, day after day, hoping and praying that you won’t lose control, that it won’t rise up like a viper and do your killing for you, or worse still, kill somebody you love, because it can do that, without any qualms at all. That’s how your mother killed Eachern, you know. You saw it, you know that’s true.’

‘Yes,’ Andrew whispered, as though Robert’s words were water to his thirst. ‘Yes, I saw it.’

‘And you know how much you wished that it had been you throwing that power, don’t you?’

‘Yes!’

‘You can still feel it, can’t you? Still feel the fear of that night, with the castle in flames around you, and the Malachi there to kill you, and that man, that
monster
’ – Robert spat the word out like it was poison. ‘He was there to stop us, to stop your mother, and all you wanted to do was—’

‘Kill him!’

Robert stopped advancing, no longer driving. Instead, his next question came out almost gently. ‘Why didn’t you?’

‘I—’

‘You were afraid, weren’t you? Afraid of him, of what he might do to you
if he knew you were a sorcerer. He was your father and you hated him. When he died you rejoiced. You’re right, Andrew, you
are
evil!’

Andrew reacted as though he’d been slapped. His head snapped up, his feet stumbled back until he caught himself against a sapling. ‘But she—’

Instantly, Robert changed again, his voice unrelenting, the demon inside him barely contained, ‘You can’t blame it on anyone but yourself. You did nothing to help her that night and instead, forced her to do something she’s regretted ever since. She never asked you about that night – but did you ever ask her how she felt about it? No. That was the first time she’d ever killed anyone. She didn’t just do it to save my life, but yours as well, to save you from any more years under that man’s roof! But you didn’t care about that, did you? And you didn’t care about the sacrifices she made to ensure you grew up knowing your own country. She would have given almost anything to have you with her at the Enclave, but she sacrificed that need so that you could have a normal life, so that some day you would develop a love for Lusara like hers, that you would want to care for it, would be prepared to fight for it, to die for it!’

Robert pulled in a breath, his fists curling as though he were ready to strike at the horror in Andrew’s eyes. And then Jenn saw it, saw the demon inside Robert flare and rise, battling for freedom. Robert’s voice rose with it. ‘But you did nothing like that, did you? All the sacrifices she made for you, your aunt and uncle, Finnlay,
Micah
 – all this and for nothing! Because deep down inside, you
are
evil, you
don’t
care, and you
never will
!’

At that, Andrew let out a roar, threw his hands up in front of him and flames sprang from the ground, an inferno of rage and terror, all aimed at the man in front of him. ‘Stop it! I won’t listen to you any more! You twist everything around so that it does come out evil. I won’t listen! You’re wrong! And if you don’t stop, I’ll make you!’ The power of the flames became a pulse, flattening the grass at his feet and everything around him.

Instinctively, Jenn took a step forward, but the heat was incredible, searing her flesh as she stood there.

Robert didn’t move, didn’t so much as lift an eyebrow. Instead, his expression changed, along with his voice. In a whisper, he said, ‘Look inside, Andrew. Is it all black and stinking with evil?’

It took a moment for his words to penetrate Andrew’s rage, but then he paused, blinking, frowning.

‘Look inside, son.’ Robert’s voice grew warm, a smile there, if not yet on his face. ‘What do you see?’

Eyes wide, Andrew looked back at him, tilting his head. Then he shook it a little. ‘Nothing. I see … nothing.’

‘Because you
can’t
be evil. That’s why you were born. That’s why you have this power – because it can’t be corrupted.’