The Shadow King's Hidden Heir

"Raise your head, Orynth. Look at me when I speak." Lord Vane's voice echoed through the main hall. Orynth did not answer immediately. He counted first. Two guards holding his arms, four at the doors, and thirty or so guests. There was no opening yet. The two guards dragged him inside, each gripping one of his arms. His feet barely touched the marble floor. Blood dripped from his temple onto the floor, and the crimson stain continued to spread. In the middle of the hall, a silver plate sat on a low table. The plate was empty. That was where the Vane family's artifact should have been before it disappeared three days ago. "I said raise your head," Vane repeated, tapping his golden ring against the armrest of his chair. Orynth forced himself to look up. His left eye was covered in blood. The noble guests stood in rows along the sides of the hall, holding wine glasses and whispering among themselves. "I didn't steal anything, Father," he said. His voice was hoarse, but flat. "Don't call me that." Vane rose from his chair. "Anyone who betrays this house has no right to use that word." His steps were slow and heavy as he descended the two steps. His black velvet robe swept across the floor. He stopped directly in front of Orynth, then lowered his gaze to the blood dripping near his shoes. "Do you see that plate?" Vane asked. "I do." "The artifact that belonged on it has been guarded by this family for two hundred years. It disappeared on the same night you were on duty in the relic room." Orynth swallowed, his throat tasting of salt. "I was on duty because you ordered me to be. The door was locked from the outside. I never went inside." One of the guards struck his back with the hilt of his sword. Orynth staggered and fell to his knees. His ribs cracked. He drew a short breath and remained silent. The guests' whispers grew louder. A woman in a green gown covered her mouth with a fan. An elderly man shook his head and clicked his tongue. "Enough," Vane said without turning around. "Take him back downstairs. We'll continue until he agrees to talk." Several hours earlier, Orynth had been in a cold basement that smelled of moss. The room had no windows. There was only a single torch on the wall and an iron chair bolted to the floor. Orynth's hands were tied to the backrest, and then his shirt was torn open, exposing his back. The head guard, a man named Korwen, stood behind him, twirling a whip. The whip was made of tightly woven small iron chains. Its tip gleamed with a greenish sheen. "Do you know what this is?" Korwen asked with a chuckle. "Iron soaked in deadroot sap. Three strikes, and you'll forget your own name." "I don't know where the artifact is," Orynth replied. His teeth were clenched tightly. "That's not the answer we're looking for." The first lash fell. His skin split open across his back. Orynth bit his lip until it bled and made no sound. Heat from the poison spread along his spine. The second lash landed on the same wound. This time, a short groan escaped his throat. "That's more like it," Korwen said with satisfaction. "Smart people know when to confess." The other guard standing near the door was a thin young man named Tamsin. He turned his face away. His hand trembled on the shaft of his spear. Korwen noticed and snorted. "If you can't stand it, just leave. Don't be a burden." "I'm fine, Captain," Tamsin whispered. The third lash came down. Orynth's vision turned white for a moment, and his ears rang. Four hours had passed. His back was beginning to go numb, but the poison from the iron was slowly working its way through his blood. His fingers were cold and stiff. He remembered how Vane used to carry him on his shoulders and how Lady Liora sewed him a coat every winter. Orynth pushed those memories aside. They were useless now. "Why me?" Orynth asked flatly. "I grew up in this house." Korwen bent down and brought his face closer. "Because you're not one of their blood, boy. You're just an adopted child who happened to get lucky. Now your luck has run out." Orynth did not reply. He stared at the stone floor beneath his feet, where the shadow of the iron chair stretched out under the torchlight. The shadow moved. At first, he thought it was an effect of the poison. But the chair's shadow shifted to the left even though the torch flame had not flickered. Another shadow in the corner of the room began to writhe as well. His eyes throbbed, cold and sharp. It was nothing like the pain of the lash wounds. "Captain," Tamsin said quietly. "His eyes." Korwen turned around. "What about his eyes?" "Their color is changing." Orynth raised his head. His pupils widened into deep black, with dark gray lines swirling around their edges like smoke. The world before him suddenly looked different. Everything had a second layer. The torch had thick shadow lines. Korwen's shadow was far too long. Inside his mind, he could feel every shadow in the room like a thread he could pull. "What the hell is this?" Korwen took a step back. "What kind of magic is this?" "I don't know," Orynth replied. "But it's useful." The fourth lash never fell. Korwen raised his arm, but the shadow of his arm was held fast against the floor. His body was frozen in place, the veins in his neck bulging. "Let me go!" Korwen shouted. "I haven't done anything," Orynth said. But his left finger moved slightly, and Korwen's shadow tightened in response. Korwen choked. Tamsin dropped his spear. The sound of iron striking stone echoed through the narrow room. Orynth looked at the ropes around his wrists. The shadows of the ropes lay against the floor, thin as ink lines. He moved his finger again, and the lines snapped. The ropes came loose. Orynth fell forward, caught himself with both palms, and then stood up. "Don't move," Tamsin said nervously, though he himself did not dare approach. "Stay right there, Tamsin," Orynth said as he stood. "I don't want to hurt you. I just want to get out." Korwen remained frozen, his eyes bulging. Sweat dampened his temples. "You'll be dead before you reach the front gate, brat!" "Maybe," Orynth replied. "But not tonight." He briefly considered killing Korwen right then and there. But his body was weak, and a single shout would summon the entire household. Another time. He simply let his shadow merge with the shadow of the door, then pushed forward. The iron door creaked open without being touched. Before stepping outside, his eyes caught something on Korwen. On the head guard's chest was a thin, pulsing red line, like writing carved beneath his skin. Orynth blinked. The line disappeared. He kept that discovery in mind for later. He stepped into the dark corridor, staggering as he used the wall to support himself. He had not gone far when heavy footsteps sounded from the end of the corridor. Three guards appeared, carrying spears. "There! Catch him!" Orynth had no strength left to run. So he stopped, drew a breath, and allowed the shadows in the corridor to creep up the walls. Every torch along the corridor went out at once. Darkness swallowed everything. "Who turned off the lights?" one of the guards shouted. "Don't panic. Light them again!" Orynth slipped between them in the darkness. He knew exactly where everyone was standing. Their shadows felt like voices whispering in his ears. He escaped the corridor, but did not make it to the outer gate. Three more guards were already waiting for him on the stairs leading to the main hall, carrying an iron net. They threw the net before he could react. Orynth fell. The poison in his blood finally overcame him, and his eyes returned to normal. They dragged him upstairs to the main hall, where he now knelt before Vane, blood dripping from his temple. "Take him downstairs," Vane repeated coldly. "Wait." Orynth himself was surprised to hear his own voice. He raised his head and looked straight into Vane's eyes. "Before that, I want to ask you one thing, Lord Vane. Why is there red writing on your chest?" Vane's face froze. A guest's glass slipped from his hand and shattered on the floor. There really was something there. His shadow eyes glowed faintly once more, and Orynth could see it clearly. Beneath Vane's velvet robe, over his left chest, was a row of red characters pulsing softly. They were identical to the ones he had seen on Korwen, only much larger and more complex. "What are you talking about?" Vane's voice dropped to a whisper. "A contract," Orynth said. "Who did you sign it with?" The hall fell silent. Several guests stepped backward. The guard beside Orynth turned to look at Vane, unsure whether to wait for an order or silence the prisoner. Vane raised his hand and pointed at Orynth with trembling fingers. "Take him to the old library. Lock the door. No one is to speak to him until dawn." The two guards immediately lifted Orynth and dragged him away. Behind them, the guests' whispers grew louder. The old library was in the western wing, far from the main chambers. The guards opened its heavy wooden door, threw Orynth inside, then locked it from the outside with two padlocks. Orynth lay on the dusty floor. The room was dark, filled with bookshelves that stretched all the way to the ceiling. The smell of old paper and stale candles filled his nostrils. He sat up slowly. His arms trembled and his breathing was shallow, but his mind remained clear. He tried to summon the shadows, but his strength was gone. "You're bleeding quite a lot," a voice said from behind the shelves. Orynth immediately tensed. "Who's there?" A young woman stepped out from between the shelves. Her black hair was loosely braided, and her gray robe was covered in ink stains. She held a small lantern whose light was barely visible. "My name is Selvara," she said, crouching beside Orynth. "And if I were you, I wouldn't move just yet." "Are you a servant here?" Orynth asked. "Let's just say I am." Selvara tore off a strip from the hem of her robe and pressed it against Orynth's temple. "I've been watching this house for a long time. I saw what happened in the hall earlier." Orynth made no sound as the cloth touched his wound. "Did you hear what I said to Vane?" "Every word." Selvara stared intently at him. "And I know you weren't making it up. Your eyes glowed earlier, didn't they? Black, with smoke swirling around them." "How do you know?" Selvara did not answer immediately. She stood up, walked to a shelf in the corner, and pulled out a thick book with a black leather cover. She opened it on the floor in front of Orynth. The page showed a pair of eyes surrounded by rings of smoke. Beneath them was a line of words in an ancient language that Orynth could not read. "The Shadow Eyes," Selvara said quietly. "Only one bloodline in the entire empire ever possessed them. A bloodline that should have gone extinct twenty years ago." "So I'm not just an ordinary adopted child," Orynth said. "I can't say that for certain yet." Selvara closed the book. "But I think the Vane family has known who you are from the beginning. That's why they took you in, and that's also why they want you dead tonight." Orynth fell silent for a moment. The pieces that had never made sense to him began to fit together. Vane had always forbidden him from entering this library. He had never been allowed to look into the large mirror in the living room. Lady Liora had always cried in secret whenever his birthday came around. "They lied to me," he finally said. "All this time." "Yes," Selvara replied bluntly. "Now you have two choices. Wait until dawn and be executed, or leave before they realize your power is greater than they expected." "I can walk. Slowly." "There's a secret passage behind the third shelf." Selvara looked at him seriously. "But what you do after that is entirely up to you." Orynth gripped the cloth against his temple. His blood was still warm between his fingers. He remembered Vane's face in the hall earlier, pale not with anger, but with fear. Fear of what Orynth could see. "I don't want to just run away," he said. "I want them to pay. For every lash, every lie, every year they stole from me." Selvara raised an eyebrow. "Are you serious?" "I've never been more serious." Orynth straightened his body with great difficulty, leaning against the bookshelf. "Tonight, I'll find out who I really am. After that, I'll destroy this house from within." Selvara smiled faintly. She walked to the third shelf and pulled out a book. A soft click sounded, and part of the bookshelf shifted aside, revealing a narrow, dark passage. "Then hurry," she said. "Before Vane realizes you're not alone." Just as Orynth stepped toward the passage, the sound of padlocks being opened one by one came from behind the library door, followed by Vane's cold, calm voice. "Orynth, I know you can hear me. Come out now, or I'll burn this library down with the girl hiding inside it."