Ashes Unwritten: Oblivion's Heir [Volume 1 Complete!]

Rowan cleaned his sword for the seventh time that night. If Claire noticed, she said nothing, choosing to nap instead when the opportunity presented itself. She was drained, and she'd begun refusing heals under the guise that she might need her Fulminancy if they were to get Kess back. It seemed a sorry excuse to Rowan, really. When exactly were they supposed to do that?

Maude hadn't found any information on her execution day, her location, or the number of guards posted around her cell. It was all the same to Rowan, really. He'd go find her even if he had no information.

Though he had declined mentioning as much to the rest of the group, Rowan planned to leave tonight—his injuries be damned. It was foolish; he had no real plan and no real way of finding Kess. But he had a full well of his own power, and a map he'd begged out of Arlette. Surely I could at least make it into the dungeons, he thought. From there, he didn't know what he'd find. But he knew this at least—he wouldn't leave Kess to die down there alone. He'd left her once. He wouldn't do it again.

The door clicked open, and Rowan looked up, expecting Eamon or Arlette, back from the bar. He dropped his sword and shot to his feet as Rae dragged Kess in, mostly supported on her shoulders, bruised, bloodied, and half unconscious.

"Kess!" Her eyes blinked open at his voice, and she stumbled away from Rae into Rowan's arms, most of her weight sinking into his chest. Rowan blinked back tears, holding her shaking body close. She gripped him tightly with one arm, her other dangling in a makeshift sling.

"Kess, I'm so sorry."

Rowan simply held her, terrified of what might have been done to her, but equally terrified to let go. She held him fiercely, though it was obvious from her weight that she could barely stand.

"I'm fine, Rowan," she said, her words muffled and slurred against his chest. "I just need to sleep." Claire walked over then, warning in her eyes, and Rowan was suddenly glad he'd left his leg aching. He gathered Kess's small form into his arms, and she wrapped her good arm around his neck, leaning her head against his shoulder, her eyes closed. Rowan was suddenly struck by how many bruises she had, how her arm hung at an unnatural angle, and how she was covered in blood. She noticed him staring at the blood as he carried her back to one of Maude's spare rooms.

"It's not mine. You were right about swords," she whispered. "They're just as bad." Rowan didn't respond, overwhelmed as he was by worry and relief. "Is everyone—"

"We're all okay," he said, moving down the hallway. He pushed his way into one of the empty rooms, took one look at Maude's clean sheets, winced, and set Kess down on a table instead. She didn't seem to mind, or she was just too tired to care as she leaned against the wall behind it.

Claire entered with a change of clothes, kicking Rowan out briefly, though he wanted to stay. She let him back in a few moments later, grumbling about the amount of blood.

"I thought that was all hers," she said, tossing the clothes in a bin. Kess looked away, distracted, as if trying to forget something.

"What happened to the manor?" she finally asked. Claire and Rowan exchanged a glance as Claire undid the splint on Kess's arm. Kess flinched, but let her work.

"Blockers and Blueblades," Rowan said, leaning against the table where Kess sat. "They overwhelmed us, but we held them off while everyone else left." Kess eyed the bandages on Rowan's leg and arm, visible through the gashes where the scythes had cut. "The storm saved us," he added quietly.

"I felt it," Kess said, wincing as Claire finally took away her splint. "It moved towards the manor, like it wanted to be there." She looked up at Rowan. "It led me out of the palace, I think."

"If Rowan hadn't told me what he saw, I'd assume you weren't lucid. Though I'm shocked you remember anything at all with the amount of swelling in your head," Claire said, running her fingers up and down Kess's arm. It hung at an unnatural angle, and Rowan had a hard time quelling his anger when he thought about who could have done that to Kess. The bruises on her face and her split lip didn't help either.

"How did you get out?" he asked, more to distract himself than anything. Kess smiled and held up her good hand. A tiny, nearly invisible sphere of his Fulminancy fizzed to life there, and then immediately snuffed out. Kess's smile disappeared.

"Turns out, the Blockers don't take away your Fulminancy when they attack."

"That's because they have my Fulminancy," Rowan said. Kess stared.

"What do you mean?"

"Rae got back just before Rowan," Claire explained. "The Blockers were made with people like Rowan. Apparently they're a little science project, courtesy of Niall and Rowan's father. One of the two, anyway."

Something darkened in Kess's expression, and she looked away. Finally, after more poking and prodding, Claire spoke again.

"I don't have enough for the cracked ribs or the bruises, but I can do the arm—if you want." Kess leaned her head against the wall again, closing her eyes. Rowan remembered a time when she'd been furious about Fulminant healing, but she'd been willing to go along with it for the sake of their cover Uphill. And now, he supposed, she simply wasn't as afraid of Fulminancy anymore.

"Just do it."

"It'll be cracked for a few more days, but you shouldn't have to splint it, at least." Claire lit the room up with her odd green Fulminancy, bathing Kess in a ghastly light as she held the arm straight. The odd bends in her arm straightened out slowly. Rowan watched her face for a reaction, but she didn't move, even as Claire finished.

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"She's out cold," Claire said, standing and fighting to catch her balance. Rowan steadied her briefly.

"But she'll be alright?" Claire frowned at Kess.

"Whatever happened, she took some serious damage, but none of it was permanent. Whoever did it wanted her in pain, but not broken—probably so they didn't have to use healers. The arm was the newest injury, so they were growing tired of that." She shrugged, stumbling to the door. "In any case, sleep is the best thing for all of us right now. The storm can wait."

Rowan wasn't sure that was the case, but nodded anyway. Claire was right. They wouldn't be able to do anything about the storm or the city without rest.

Gently, he picked up Kess's sleeping form and moved her to the bed. He considered sleeping in the chair for propriety's sake, but he wasn't sure he could stand another bad night of sleep, and he was here anyway. He climbed in next to Kess and, though he wanted to watch her, to assure himself that she was alright, he fell asleep as soon as he hit the bed.

Kess had expected to dream, but her sleep was so deep and complete that she remembered nothing but blackness when she finally woke. She was alone on the bed, her arm still throbbing dully, and her body sore, but alive. The bed smelled faintly of Rowan, though he was nowhere to be found.

She turned on her side, staring at the wall across the room, and oddly, a storm cloud coalesced there, complete with little tiny lightning strikes decorating its dark surface. Kess sat up slowly, wincing, and stared. I'm going mad, she thought. Some of the lightning strikes happened often enough that little eyes formed, their gaze blank and unfathomable. Outside, Kess could feel a tendril of the storm swirl overhead.

"Are you… are you that storm?" she asked, feeling foolish. The thing actually nodded at her, and Kess sat back, leaning against the wall behind the bed, overwhelmed.

"Can you talk?" It shook its head. She frowned. "Why are you here? What do you want me to do?" It paused, as if trying to parse through the two questions at once, then pointed. Kess had been disoriented when Rae brought her in, but she knew she was at Maude's place again. The storm creature pointed to what would have been the Archives, had they still been standing. Well, that's simple enough. At least it hasn't changed tactics.

Kess opened her mouth to thank the creature, but it gestured wildly, then pointed towards its chest. Kess reached out, then recoiled as the thing shook its head violently and pointed back at Kess. She touched her own chest and found her locket there, warm and comforting alongside Draven's ring. As she fished it out from under her shirt, the cloud swirled with excitement.

"You…want this?" she asked, holding it out.

Another no.

"You want me to keep it."

More wild gesturing. It formed two little arms and crossed them.

"Then…you want me to get rid of it."

It shook its head in a sort of halfway expression and clapped its tiny arms together with a little tiny boom. Kess frowned.

"Destroy it?" Kess asked, and it nodded its head excitedly, then pointed to the Archives again.

Kess watched the locket for a moment longer as the tiny storm swirled in front of her. There did seem to be something more to her locket. She'd used it to transfer power, yes, but there was something slumbering quietly beneath the surface. Something even older than the storm. She didn't even know if she could destroy the locket. Certainly it had taken plenty of nasty blows without much of an effect. And regardless of what Northmont suggested, she was inclined to trust Mariel's ephemeral form than the Council. She longed for an explanation, but she wasn't sure how much time she had for one—and she doubted the storm could give it in this form.

"I'll see what I can do," she said, and the cloud hopped around, as if excited. It pointed one last time at the Archives as a few wisps of its form trailed off. It faded slowly, giving her a little wave. "Thank you," she whispered, and she swore it smiled.

Kess sat against that wall for a very long time, trying to verify her sanity. Certainly she'd taken plenty of blows to the head in the last few days, to say nothing of the rest. And yet, Rowan had mentioned the storm too, hadn't he? He said it saved them, Kess thought, hugging her knees to her aching chest.

No, Kess wasn't insane at all. Rather, it was the scenario she found herself in that was so unbelievable. She found it hard to reconcile the ephemeral and otherworldly with the woman she'd been for the last six years—one mostly concerned with physical blows and where the next rent payment might come from. I could never really run from any of it, could I? Kess thought bitterly. She'd tried and failed to be normal, and she'd certainly paid for it in the last year.

Still, she would have to deal with it one day at a time, as she'd dealt with those dark hours underneath the palace. As she'd dealt with the aftermath of an entire family slaughtered in her name. As she dealt with her brother's betrayal.

Rowan walked in, looking a little better than he had last night. Some of his exhaustion was gone, and his limp was better, at least. Kess smiled at him, her dark thoughts nearly forgotten, and let him pull her to her feet, but Rowan's eyes remained solemn.

"Kess, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have left you." Kess shook her head, meeting his eyes.

"No, you did the right thing. Your father would have used you. It…could have been much worse."

Rowan paused, and his grip tightened slightly on her shoulders. "My father?" Kess nodded.

"He oversaw the questioning, though he had someone else doing the dirty work." Rowan brushed his fingers lightly over the bruise on her cheek, then pulled her into an embrace. Kess still hurt, but she decided it was worth it to be held again.

"I'm so sorry," he said again. Kess wrapped her arms awkwardly around him, trying to keep her cracked arm straight. "I was going to come back for you that night when you showed up with Rae," Rowan murmured into her hair. "I just…I didn't know what to do, Kess. I thought that maybe you were right and that I could get help, but then the manor was attacked, and none of us could even figure out where you were. The best I could think of was to march back in and hope no one knew about my powers so I could find you."

"They would have had you killed," Kess said quietly. "Killed while I watched."

Rowan paused, his grip tightening around her. His chest rose and fell shakily. "Some things are worth dying for," he finally said.

Kess held him, fighting back tears. She'd been right to keep him away. Right to keep him as far as possible from a father who cared so little about him. And yet, she knew what it had done to him. She'd asked a protector to leave her behind to fend for herself. It went entirely against Rowan's nature. Kess had manipulated him that night, knowing that logic might win out long enough in Rowan's mind to get him out safely.

Fortunately, she'd been right. And yet, her gut churned with guilt.

Kess heaved another shaking sigh, trying to push the dark memories of those nights aside. She was here. She was alive. She needed to make it count.

"He kept asking about the lockets, Rowan. Not just mine, but the two others I had in the manor. He wanted them for safekeeping." She rested her head on his chest, thinking. "We need to destroy them, I think."

"Can we destroy them?" Kess frowned.

"I don't know." She felt her own locket, warm against her chest. "But I'd like to try."