Heir

Chapter 1, Scene 3

The library of Ebonwood Castle contained more books and scrolls than could be held on the shelves. Piles of books stood like towers, connected by tomes stacked in rows to form walls between them. It was a miniature castle within the castle. Most of this vast collection came from the ruins of Blackmire Castle, being only a fraction of the once great body of lore that old stronghold had housed. It was all that had survived the great inferno that brought the castle to ruins. Still, it was more than a single person could read in their lifetime. But Leitha couldn’t help but try.

The flaxen-haired woman sat curled in her favorite armchair, cradling a hefty tome in her arms. She read by the light of the afternoon sun coming in through the windows. She was completely engrossed in the account she was reading – a tale of the earliest inhabitants of the island; before it was called Royaland; before there was a king in Highcastle.

Not far away, Odette was on the floor, similarly absorbed in reading a book. The young girl of only nine years lay on her stomach, her chin propped up on her hands and her bare feet swinging absently in the air. Her dark skin and kinky hair revealed her mixed ancestry. They were traits of the Aldmen, the people that Leitha was currently reading about.

Leitha and Odette were not related. Leitha was the wife of Prince Seimon, a member of the royal family. Odette was the orphaned granddaughter of Imrich, Steward of Ebonwood. They were as sisters, though, in their love of stories and ancient lore. They found it very easy to spend hours in the company of each other, despite the sixteen years between them. Leitha had at times observed that she was even more comfortable with Odette than with her own two sons, Dace and Darrin. The boys were eight- and six-years-old, respectively, and they were abounding with energy. They loved to settle down with their mother or father in the evenings for a bedtime story, but to get them to read on their own in the middle of the day was impossible. They had inherited their father’s inclination towards mischief. Hardly a day went by that they didn’t cause some small disaster in or around the castle. In fact, at that very moment, they were plotting a bit of mischief, and this time their target was Odette.

As the girl laid reading, she felt something soft and warm brush up against her leg. Curious about the intrusion, she pried her eyes away from her book to glance over her shoulder and was greeted with the sight of a large rat sniffing around her knee. Her face went pale and her muscles tensed. She wanted to scream but her throat constricted and no sound came out. She immediately broke out in a cold sweat. When she felt the rodent’s teeth scrape against her skin, she finally flew into a flurry of movement, rolling away from the creature on to her back. With a frenzy of desperate flailing and kicking, she backed away from the rat, which now sat transfixed, not certain how to react to this sudden commotion. Alarmed, Leitha looked up from her own book just in time to see Odette propel herself back into a wall of books which came collapsing down on top of her. She half sat up before she noticed the rat, and then she heard an outburst of riotous laughter from behind a tower of books.

“Dace! Darrin!” Leitha yelled. The laughter stopped abruptly as the two boys bolted for the door.

“Not so fast!” Prince Seimon was in the doorway and he quickly bent down to grab each of the boys by the collar. “I’ve been looking for you two.”

“Help me.” Came a whimper from the girl who was half buried under a mountain of books. Leitha grabbed a nearby volume – hesitating only long enough to make sure it was one she had already read and didn’t treasure – and threw it at the rat, which sent the creature skittering away.

“You two catch that thing and get it out of our library!” The boys’ mother snapped at them. She was already digging Odette out of the rubble of their broken book-castle wall. Seimon turned the boys around and gave them a gentle shove in the direction of the rat, slapping them both on the butt as they went.

“Are you alright, Odette?” The prince was asking as he joined his wife in digging the poor girl out.

“I think so.” Odette replied, her body mostly clear of the fallen books. Seimon helped her to her feet while Leitha checked her up and down for any sign of injury. Apart from a mild bruise where a particularly heavy tome had landed on her leg she was fine. The boys stood by with the rat now in the small sack they had carried it in with. Just the movements of the sack from the creature kicking and squirming inside it made Odette visibly uneasy.

“Dace and Darrin, get rid of that thing and then come back here and apologize to Odette.” Leitha commanded.

“Yes Mother.” The boys complied.

Leitha helped Seimon and Odette clean up the mess her sons had made, restacking the fallen books. As she picked up one old tome, she suddenly let out a tiny yelp and dropped it.

“What’s the matter?” Seimon asked, concerned.

“That book is hot.” Leitha explained.

Seimon gently took her hand and turned it over to inspect for burns. There were none. He cautiously bent down to touch the book on the floor. After testing it with a light touch of his fingertips, he soon ran his entire palm over the leather-bound cover, and finally picked it up.

“It’s not even warm.” He remarked. Leitha realized she had been holding her breath and gently let it out.

“Really?” She was perplexed. “I could have sworn it was like a hot iron.”

Odette watched curiously as Leitha touched it again cautiously while Seimon held it.

“Was it my imagination?” Leitha wondered aloud as she ran her fingers along the spine of the book. The cover bore no title, but it was dominated by an embossed image of a hand wreathed in fire within the outline of a hexagon.

“I’m not familiar with this symbol.” Leitha commented.

“I’ve seen it.” Seimon’s expression was grim. “It is a sigil of the Old Ones.”

Something connected in the back of Leitha’s mind, like a fly suddenly caught in a spider’s web, kicking and clawing to get free – not painful, but terribly distracting.

“I should lock this up.” Seimon observed. Retrieving a key from a pouch on his belt, he unlocked a heavy wooden cabinet that stood against a wall of the library. Inside were five other books, about a dozen scrolls, and the remnants of a human skull.

“Wait.” Leitha suddenly objected, her hand on her husbands arm. “We don’t even know what’s in the book.”

Seimon turned to his wife, a grave expression on his face, and placed a gentle yet firm hand on her shoulder.

“It’s too dangerous.” He said, with a tone that would brook no argument.

“Of course.” Leitha relented. That little fly in the back of her mind buzzed all the louder as he set the book on top of the others and closed the cabinet, locking it again.

*****