TRUE HEIR

 

BOOK FOUR OF THE DARK HEART CHRONICLES

 

CHAPTER 1 SAMPLE

 

 

 

 

 

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Copyright © 2021 Daniel Kuhnley

 

Edited & Published by Drezhn Publishing LLC

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

 

 

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Chapter One

Little dragon.

Those two words, forever seared into the forefront of her mind, drove Aria’s fury. Two words tied to the only two people she loved in the world.

Little dragon.

Pravus’s last words to her. The cause of Alderan’s death. Fuel for her rage.

Little dragon.

Night cloaked the dark plains below as she and Cinolth flew toward the last place the little dragon had been spotted. Nothing would stand in the way of her hunting down the traitorous dragon and ripping the scales from its hide. As they drew near their destination, lightning flashed, revealing a scene below that her mind worked hard to process: a standoff.

The flash had been just that, but the image burned in her mind. Two dozen orcs, weapons drawn, surrounded four gnolls. Rage swelled in her chest and burst from her lips in a roar that rivaled that of Cinolth. It took every bit of will power to keep herself from calling down lightning from the heavens and destroying them all. Had she not known Karraar to be among them, she never would’ve held back.

Cinolth’s voice entered her mind. “I’ll burn them alive.”

“No,” she fired back. “They might have information about the little dragon.”

A cloud of sulfuric smoke billowed from Cinolth’s nostrils and swept past Aria, stinging her eyes. “Extract the information, and then I’ll eat them all. I could use a satisfying meal.”

“Until they’ve outlived their usefulness, I want them kept alive.”

“A pack of ferzh would better serve you. These beasts live without thought of anything beyond themselves and their own survival. I assure you that they cannot be controlled.”

“And yet Pravus controlled them,” she bit back.

“Do not fool yourself. Pravus bound them to himself and to each other with blood mezhik.”

Aria snarled. “Then I’ll do the same.”

Cinolth’s head jerked around. One of his red, serpentine eyes met her gaze. Fiery ash spewed from his mouth. “No!”

Rage simmered on the tip of Aria’s tongue. “Give me one good reason.”

Cinolth straightened and flew faster. “Blood bonds weaken the spirit and lessen the strength of a wizard. Why do you think Pravus grew so weak and fell so easily?”

As she reflected over the past year, she couldn’t deny what Cinolth claimed. The man who rescued her from Portador Tempestade certainly wasn’t the man who fought on the battlefield. She recalled how weak he’d grown when she first arrived at Galondu Castle. He had blamed it on the distance he’d teleported, an undeniable fact given what she now knew, but his full strength never returned as it should have. The only event that had occurred between those two events was the blood bond Pravus made with the zhebəllin.

Cinolth’s head bobbed. “Now you understand.”

“Wouldn’t it still be a good idea? I could create blood bonds with every species of evolved creatures and control them all.”

“Orcs, gnolls, zhebəllin, and other fallen races are susceptible to such blood oaths, but no higher races are. You are still naive and have much to learn.”

“Don’t you dare—” Cinolth swooped down and settled on the ground with a thud, jerking Aria forward and disrupting her thought.

The orcs and gnolls turned in their direction, weapons poised for an attack. Mezhik crackled at Aria’s fingertips as she slid off the side of Cinolth’s neck. She landed hard on the ground, jarring the bones from her feet all the way up through her spine. With a touch of mezhik, she cast her pain away.

Using mindspeak, she said to Cinolth, “I’ll handle this. Go find yourself some food.”

Cinolth didn’t respond but took to the air, nearly knocking her off her feet. She knew he did it on purpose, but she had more important business than scolding him. Besides, it wouldn’t do her a fat bit of good. Instead, she conjured a ball of light and stalked forward through the wet, waist-high, golden grass. Her fingertips stroked the stalks as she walked, reminding her of Red’s corn patch back in Viscus D’Silva. She touched her stomach and smiled.

You’ll live far better than I ever did, blood of my blood.

One of the orcs—a massive beast of muscles and veins—positioned himself in her path. Several fox hides, soaked with rain and covered in dried blood, draped around his thick neck. A golden ring hung from the cartilage between the nostrils of his porcine nose, and blue eyes glared from beneath ridges of fiery-red eyebrows. A mace rested atop his left shoulder.

The monster snarled and slurred his words. “Ah, yes, the famed dragon rider and recent widow. Assumed you’d be older—” He wet his lower tusks with a grayish-brown tongue. “—but you’re good on the eyes… for a human. Think I might make a trophy out of you.” Some of the other orcs roared with laughter.

“Enough,” she growled. “You will bow when in my presence.”

The beast laughed, yet his hand tightened around the handle of his mace. “Orcs bow to no one but our master, Ƨin.”

Aria balled her right hand, and a purple, sparkling glow enveloped her fist. She yanked her arm down by her side. The orc groaned and dropped to his knees; his height now matched hers.

Several of the other orcs drew closer. One of them roared and launched himself at her. With a flick of the wrist, she released a burst of mezhik into the ground. A seven-foot-long spike of pure granite shot up through the grass and impaled the beast mid torso.

Blood gushed from the wound and ran down the length of the spike. The orc sputtered blood and wheezed one final breath before his yellow eyes dulled and he fell limp. The other orcs quickly backed off.

Not as stupid as I thought.

She turned her attention back to the first orc and moved within inches of his face. “What’s your name, foul beast?”

The orc fought to stand back up, but Aria kept the air around him weighed down with a thousand pounds of force. It took a good minute for him to realize that struggling was futile. Finally, he relaxed and said, “Murtag.” His breath reeked of sewage.

Aria retreated several paces, swiping at the air in front of her nose. She coughed. “You will address me as your queen. Am I clear?”

“As glass.”

She squeezed her fist tighter, dropping Murtag to his hands and knees. “Did you not just hear what I commanded of you?”

Murtag nodded. “Yes.”

“Address me properly, or I’ll remove your head from your shoulders and mount it on one of the walls in my castle.”

Murtag’s face nearly touched the ground. “Yes… my queen,” he grunted.

“There you go.” She withdrew some of her mezhik, lessening the force driving him toward the ground. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Murtag rose back up on his knees. “No, my queen.”

“Good.” She eyed the other orcs and the four gnolls. Each of them failed to meet her glare. “From this point forward, all of you will set aside your differences and work together in service to me. If any of you are caught fighting, you will be put to death. Both parties, no matter who started it. If this isn’t something you feel can be achieved, let me know now. I’ll be happy to end your lives right here.”

“No, my queen,” each muttered.

“Very well.” Aria moved around Murtag, keeping the pressure on his shoulders. The others backed away, and she strode toward the four gnolls.

Karraar, her indebted slave, bowed low as she approached. “My queen.”

The others mimicked him, albeit with what she perceived as a touch of reluctance. Her rage flared but remained within her control. She would deal with the three of them later. Right now, she needed answers.

“Rise.” The four beasts straightened, each towering over her by a good two feet. She scanned her surroundings but failed to see the reason Karraar had requested her presence. “What’s the meaning of this? Where is the dragon?” Mezhik crackled just beneath her skin, begging to be released. “Did you request my assistance to save your own hide?”

“Never, my queen. Please, follow me.” Karraar turned and led her a dozen paces south where the grass lay splayed on the ground for a good, long stretch. The other gnolls remained behind with the orcs. “This is where the beast crashed down. It slid to a stop at the far end over there.”

Her eyes followed the conjured light as it swept across the area.

No little dragon.

She walked over to the far end of the damaged area and knelt to examine the grass. Many of the stalks were charred, and dried blood spattered the surrounding foliage. A single claw mark pressed into an exposed patch of wet dirt.

Aria stood and faced Karraar. “And then it took off again?”

Karraar joined her. “Yes, but only for a short stretch.” He led her farther south until they reached another spot. “It crashed again right here.”

A three-foot diameter of smashed grass. But still no dragon. “Help me understand why I’m still not seeing a dragon. What the gods happened?”

Karraar scowled at the ground, then nodded. “I think you’ll want to hear the story first-hand.” He signaled one of the other gnolls.

A gangly beast with brownish-orange fur and mismatched eyes—one a deep amber and the other a yellowish white—joined them. Bloodstains painted his leather armor, and a deep, puss-filled gash ran crosswise along the right side of his neck and down into his collarbone. He favored the shoulder, his arm hanging limp at his side.

Karraar pushed him forward. “Tell our queen what happened, Durqel.”

Durqel picked at the wound on his neck and kept glancing back at the other two gnolls as he spoke. “The others think I’m crazy, but I know what I saw. Gods be my witness.” Although gruff like Karraar’s, Durqel’s voice came out several octaves higher and a bit faster. Almost slurred. “When I moved in for the kill, the beast struck me with one of its claws. Quick as a flash.” He pointed at his neck. “Right here. Never felt anything so painful. Surprised me. And I don’t surprise easy. Ask Karraar.”

Karraar gave Durqel a curt nod. “I can confirm that. Durqel may not look like much, but there’s no one I’d rather have fighting at my side. That is, of course, other than you, my queen.”

Aria ignored the complement and the reeking stench that permeated the air. “And then what happened?”

“Gods be my witness—” Durqel’s eyes shifted about as he hunched down half a foot. “—the dragon changed into a man right before my eyes. I admit it left me stunned. Wasn’t expecting a man. Didn’t even know dragons could shift.”

A shifting dragon, or a man?

Aria frowned, the tale perplexing. “What did the man look like, and what happened to him? Where did he go?”

Durqel shrugged and licked his wound with a long, pink-spotted, gray tongue. His face contorted, and then he spat something greenish brown on the ground. “Sorry about that.” He shook his head, then continued, “It happened so fast. An instant if not quicker. Can’t recall his face. The lot of you all look the same, you know. Anyway, he stood. Back to me. Tall for your kind. Stepped away from me and poof!” He raised his hands and spread his fingers wide.

Aria’s mind searched for explanation but came up short. “Poof?”

“Yeah, just that. There one moment and disappeared the next. Mezhik, you ask me.” Durqel cocked his head and stared up at the dark sky. “Do dragons have mezhik?” He glanced over his shoulder in the direction Cinolth had flown off. “Never met one personally. Not entirely sure I’d want to. They would be much scarier if they did have mezhik.”

She eyed Durqel. “You’re sure of what you saw?” He nodded wildly.

“Durqel is good for his word.” Karraar bent down and pointed at a spot on the ground. “Here’s your proof.”

Her gaze followed the path of Karraar’s outstretched finger. Plain as day sat a single footprint wedged between flattened stalks of grass. Large for a human yet too small for a giant. The five toes ruled out orcs and ogres, each having six toes per foot.

Aria touched Durqel’s arm, her fingers twitching with mezhik. The beast flinched, and his eyes doubled in size, but he didn’t pull away. She had half a mind to drain the life from his bones for allowing the little dragon to escape. However, another beast loyal to her might prove useful in the future.

The stench of Durqel’s breath churned her stomach when he exhaled. Rotting flesh and decades’ worth of unscrubbed filth—far worse than that of Murtag’s breath. She glanced down at her flat belly, knowing the pregnancy heightened her sense of smell.

You will be worth it all, my love.

Swallowing back revulsion, Aria focused on Durqel’s eyes. They jittered within their deep-set sockets. An involuntary reaction to something she knew well not long ago: fear. Once, she would’ve pitied a beast like him, but now it only made her loathe him more.

An intolerable weakness.

One thought would end his life. Mezhik danced across her fingertips. Intoxicated her with its touch. Soon, she would give in to it, but not just yet.

Aria set her jaw and spoke through clenched teeth. “Now’s the time for you to really think about what you saw, Durqel.”

His eyes focused on her hand, his pupils dilated. “I told you all I know. I swear it.” Somehow, the beast managed to make himself smell even worse as renewed sweat glistened through his fur and ran between his eyes.

Aria recalled a book in Pravus’s library that spoke of wizards with the gift to view memories of those they touched: Fizärd Mämärä. She didn’t know of any, but Wizard Wrik might.

Thinking of the giant man eased the pain of her losses just a little, and she wondered if news of Alderan and Pravus had reached his ears. It likely hadn’t, given the timing. But how would he react to it? The man worked for Pravus, but the two of them were always at each other’s throats. Still, Wrik displayed a fondness for Alderan. Then again, it could’ve been all for show for her benefit.

She pushed Wizard Wrik and everything else from her mind. It would all have to wait. Right now, she must focus.

Durqel’s coarse, grimy fur stuck to her fingertips when she pulled her hand away from his arm. She wiped her fingers on her trousers but knew a thorough scrubbing and a long soak with perfumes would be required to eradicate Durqel’s stench from her skin. Moreover, the trousers she wore would receive no such treatment. They would face the flames as soon as she reached Galondu Castle.

Aria turned to Karraar. “Escort Durqel to Galondu Castle and personally assure that he’s provided with the finest amenities. I must speak with him on this matter again.”

Karraar bowed low, a grin upon his muzzle. “I understand, my queen. I assure you he will not lack of want.”

“Good.” She withdrew her mezhik and flexed her hand. A few dozen yards away, Murtag rose to his feet.

After signaling the other two gnolls, Karraar and Durqel dropped on all fours and headed south across The Plains.

Aria reached out to Cinolth with her mind. “Come for me.”

She returned to the group of orcs and laid out her demands of them. “The lot of you will camp here for a fortnight. If anything returns to this area, you will capture it and bring it to me, understood?”

The orcs looked to their leader, Murtag. He nodded, and then they all said, “Yes, my queen.”

“And where will we find you, my queen?” Murtag said.

Aria pointed behind herself. “Galondu Castle, to the south.”

“I know of it.” Murtag dipped his head ever so slightly. “It will be as you’ve commanded.”

Pravus had relished power, and now she understood why. Every command she uttered built upon the last, compounding her confidence. And each command carried out added to her power. Soon, she would be unstoppable.

“Good.”

Cinolth landed close by, driving the orcs backward. She smiled as she returned to Cinolth and mounted him. The air cracked like a whip beneath Cinolth’s great wings as he lifted them off the ground and carried them high into the sky.

A ferocious army of clouds gathered around them, tall with thunder and black with rain. Reminded her of home. She missed the days spent on the porch back in Viscus D’Silva, rocking in her chair, listening to the pouring rain, and jumping with every flash of lightning and rumble of thunder. Although it hadn’t been that long ago, the memories felt like another life. One she dreamt up but never actually lived.

Perhaps it was.

She mindspoke to Cinolth. “Where are we headed?”

“To the wall outside Duos Flumen. The gateway needs to be reactivated so that our armies can travel freely.”

Had her mind not been occupied with death and a little dragon, she would’ve suggested such a plan. “Good.”

A few minutes later, Cinolth spoke to her again. “And what did your dogs have to say about our little dragon?”

A crack of thunder shook the air and opened the heavens once more. Drenching rain fell hard, pummeling her face. Cold. Wet. Perfect. She held onto Cinolth’s neck with her legs and leaned back against him. “Can dragons wield mezhik?”

“Yes, but the gift is extremely rare.”

She opened her mouth and swallowed down the raindrops. “And can they shift?”

“Not without assistance.”

Assistance?

Her mind drew a blank. “What do you mean by that?”

“A dragon would need an object imbued with mezhik, like a necklace or ring. Only the most powerful and skilled of mages could create such an object. Therefore, the dragon would need assistance.”

“According to one of my dogs as you call them, our little dragon shifted into a man and then teleported away.”

“Then our little dragon is no dragon at all.”

Aria sat up straight.

A man then…

The thought pumped her heart harder. Leaning forward, she rested against Cinolth’s hot neck. Steam rose off her face as she allowed her mind to wrap itself around her newfound knowledge. Every wizard she knew had been accounted for on the battlefield, so who was this dragon man? Why did they kill Alderan?

An impossible thought struck her. A vile, evil thought she dared not nurture. She pushed it from her mind, but it crept back in and dug its claws deep into her mind. No matter what she did, she couldn’t shake it. If she couldn’t shake it, she must deal with it. So, she did.

How did Alderan wind up behind me when he’d been fighting Cinolth?

She swallowed hard, forcing her mind to think through the painful process.

Did he try to kill me?

Nausea grabbed her stomach and wrung it like a wet rag. A mournful groan slipped through her parted lips.

Alderan? My own brother?

Tears burned her eyes and sorrow tore at her heart. Yet truth didn’t ring with those thoughts. How could it?

Alderan would never have betrayed me.

No… he must’ve saved my life. But from who?

If it was a dragon that had attacked her and not a man, as Cinolth claimed, where had it come from? Why target her? A single, simple answer popped into her mind: because of Cinolth.

What other explanation could there be?

None.

Killing her would kill Cinolth, too. But how had the little dragon known?

“Somehow, it must’ve been you,” she said aloud.

“I am the dragon man?” Cinolth scoffed.

“No, but you’re the cause of my brother’s death. You took him from me. You’re the one who brought the little dragon into my life. You killed them both.”

Cinolth lurched back, folded his wings against his body, and twisted his head around to face her. The wind and rain whipped around them as they started to plummet toward the ground. “Explain yourself before we crash into the earth.”

“You told me the other dragons hated you and kicked you out of the Valley of Dragons. I’m certain they’re aware of your return. They must be the ones who sent the little dragon to kill me. Therefore, it’s your fault. Alderan’s dead because of you. Admit it.”

“As I explained before, a gift such as wielding mezhik is rare for dragons. So rare that only one dragon alive has that power. You must understand that only three dragons in the history of Centauria have ever possessed such a gift. So, trust me when I tell you that the little dragon was no dragon at all.”

“Trust you! How could I ever do so after what you did to Pravus? You impaled him with your tail and bit him in half!” She raised her arms, used her mezhik to gather energy from the raging storm, and drove lightning through the back of Cinolth’s skull. It did nothing to him, and she knew it wouldn’t, but the act made her feel marginally better.

“Enough,” growled Cinolth.

He spread his wings wide about thirty meters above the ground. His entire body jerked back as his mighty wings caught wind once more with a wicked thwack. Aria’s face slammed against the back of Cinolth’s neck, narrowly missing one of his spikes. Pain blistered from her left cheek, and a coppery taste filled her mouth.

She pushed herself upright and spat blood into the wind. Her tongue confirmed two loose teeth and a gash on the inside of her cheek. She’d suffered far worse at the hands of evil men. Unlike then, she now possessed the ability to heal herself. Purplish-white tendrils rose from her fingertips and flowed into her cheek. The pain faded as the wound closed.

A cancerous silence grew between them as they glided across the late evening sky. The rain continued to fall in sheets, but they’d outflown the lightning and thunder. At least that which existed outside of her mind. Within her mind, the storm raged with violence unmatched by anything the gods could conjure. She would never forgive Cinolth.

Ten minutes later, Cinolth’s voice broke into her mind. “As soon as you take up the throne, you must make several decrees. First, anyone who defies your rule will be dipped in tar and chained to poles outside the castle gates where they will serve as human torches to light the night. Second, anyone who comes forward with verifiable knowledge of Cyrus’s whereabouts will be given a position in your courts. Furthermore, I will send my army across the Ancient Realm and raze any town or city that tries to prevent them from flushing out those who escaped from the Three Kingdoms. Lastly, we will sail the oceans until we capture Princess Zelanora. She must be executed in public so that your rule cannot be challenged.”

Rage nearly blinded Aria. It took every bit of concentration to continue holding on. She breathed deep and said nothing.

“Good. Allow your hate for me to build. It will soon prove useful.”

Knowing her thoughts were not hers alone, Aria focused on the dark clouds above them and cleared her mind of everything but her three loves. She mindspoke to Cinolth through their connection. “A grand funeral for Pravus and Alderan must be held. The realm will know how much I loved them and the lengths I’ll go to avenge their deaths. After that, we will announce the coming of an heir.”

“For Pravus, yes, but there will be no funeral for your brother.”

Aria beat Cinolth’s neck with her fist until his scales slickened with her blood. “I am your master! You will not deny me!”

“Do not fool yourself. You are master of nothing. Not even your own mind or the mezhik you possess. Once you’ve rested, you’ll come to your senses and understand why what you want cannot be so.”

“Mark my words, dragon. After we vanquish our last enemy, I’ll find a way to rip the beating heart from your chest.”

Cinolth laughed in her mind. “I look forward to that day.”

As do I.

As they flew south, the gigantic wall that wizards Mutius and Bardaric built rose out of the night, its rocky surface slickened with recent rain and highlighted by moonlight. Cinolth landed near its center, and Aria leapt to the ground. Her boots sank several inches into the sticky mud.

“I must hunt,” Cinolth said.

Aria ripped her boots away from the mud’s grasp and stalked forward. “I will not wait for you.”

“So be it.” Cinolth beat his wings and took to the sky, nearly blowing her over in the process. She had no doubt he did it on purpose.

She shrugged away her wrath as best she could and reached out to Karraar with her mind. Given the great distance that separated them, she expected the attempt to fail, yet somehow, they connected. “Head toward my location. The gateway will be functional by the time you arrive. It will save days from your journey.”

“Yes, my queen,” Karraar replied.

Aria severed the connection with Karraar and focused her mind on both the great wall before her and on its twin just north of Galondu Castle. Only one of the one hundred virtual ropes had been severed between the two walls after her army had passed through the gateway. It would be trivial for her to make the connection again and re-enable the gateway.

Within her mind, she located the missing connection between the two walls and strung the virtual rope between them. The effort, far greater than she’d imagined, stole the strength from her legs and took her to her knees.

As before, a brilliant light shone from the wall but didn’t sting her eyes or blind her. Heat blasted her and the wall quaked as the rock transformed into magma and the magma into black glass. The heat faded, and the wall’s surface shimmered, rocked, and swirled. An image formed beyond the violent surface: Galondu Castle.

She forced herself back to her feet but struggled to pull her boots from the mud. The castle swayed before her, and her vision spotted with darkness. The world tilted sideways, and the muddy ground rushed toward her, but then something caught her from behind and yanked her back to her feet just before she plunged into the mud face-first.

Weak with grief and fatigue, Aria collapsed into strong arms. “I’ve got you, my queen.”

Pravus?

The world slipped away from her.