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

Rae nearly threw the locket out the window when she realized how worthless it was. She sat in the library back at the manor. She hated libraries. But at least this one was quiet enough to tinker with the clouding device.

She'd expected to find the whole crew there, but Kess and Rowan were gone, and the rest of the manor was uncharacteristically quiet. She'd sought out Arlette, but she was out somewhere Downhill, and Claire was nowhere to be found either. Rae shrugged, staring at the locket again. She was, at the very least, not imprisoned. Those creatures could wait.

She pressed her bloody palm to the locket, willing its powers back into her.

Nothing happened.

She shook the locket.

Nothing happened.

She tried slicing her other hand.

Nothing happened.

"I'm not sure that's how it works," a voice said from the doorway. Rae had a knife already in hand before she looked up and saw Claire standing there, arms folded. She relaxed slightly, though she wasn't sure what to make of Claire. The woman seemed reasonable enough to Rae, though her propensity to get into arguments with Kess seemed like a losing battle.

"What do you mean?" Rae asked, her tone snapping slightly. She'd counted on this locket to bring her powers back, and her ongoing emptiness only served to keep her on edge.

Claire moved to the table and sat down, leaning her chair back onto two legs. Rae was tempted to knock the other two out from under the woman, but simply eyed her instead. Claire held out her hand to Rae with a glance at her sliced palm. Rae placed her hand in Claire's wordlessly, watching as green Fulminancy snapped into the wounds on both hands, sealing them shut. Rae flexed her fingers a few times, dabbing away the blood with a handkerchief. New skin, unblemished, and the faint, singing power of Fulminancy she could no longer have.

"Kess and Rowan have done it at least once before, but it took two of them, and it was temporary." Claire frowned at the locket as it sat in a puddle of Rae's own blood. "I'm not sure they store powers at all, really. They're more of a conduit, I think." Claire met Rae's eyes, her own solemn. "What happened?"

Rae watched the blood spread through the handkerchief as she dabbed at the locket. "It's gone," she whispered. "All of it. The new Seat has it now."

Claire stared at her, open-mouthed. "Your Fulminancy?" Rae just nodded. Claire swore. "I'd always heard stories of that happening, but I didn't think it really—"

"It does," Rae said quietly. "I ran out of luck. Those creatures Rowan and Kess described—they're real. They're being made under the palace. I followed the wagons down there, and that's what they're doing with the Duds."

Claire paled, and her chair stopped rocking. "How many?" she asked. Rae shook her head.

"Too many. They don't respond well to indirect attacks. Fulminancy barely makes a dent." She looked up at Claire. "If they send them in any amount, we're sitting ducks."

Claire let out a breath and put her chair back on the floor, her gaze calculating. "Well," she said. "I only see one option here." Rae raised an eyebrow.

"And that is?" Claire smiled then, her gaze filled with some of the mischief that Rae used to feel, before everything had been taken from her.

"We figure out how the bastards work, and make them pay. I have a few ideas."

Hours later, Rowan burst through the manor doors, teeth chattering. He'd managed to find a tiny gutter nailed to the side of the palace and had somehow inched down too many stories to count, each movement agonizing in the rain. His clothes were soaked and his side ached fiercely, but his heart ached worse as he realized what he'd done. He'd left Kess behind. He'd left her to be tortured and possibly executed. He was a coward, running away like this. No, he thought. There was nothing I could have done for her. Getting help is more important than sitting in a cell with her.

It was true, but it didn't make him feel any better.

The guards stared at Rowan as he entered, dripping wet, his side still bleeding copiously.

"Sir?" One of them asked, reaching out to him. He waved the man off.

"Can you get Arlette, Claire, and Eamon in the same room for me?" he asked, wincing as he looked at his side. The man nodded, saluted, and trotted off. Belatedly, Rowan realized he hadn't told the man where to send them. Exhausted and dizzy, he simply made his way to the front parlor where he and Kess had met with Niall just weeks ago.

His thoughts drifted as he stumbled into the room. What had Niall wanted? In hindsight, Rowan realized he'd been a fool to trust the man, but even with Kess's knife to his throat, Niall hadn't seemed antagonistic. Rather, he seemed more like a man determined to stop something in its course before it got out of control.

His father's actions, though surprising, now seemed inevitable. Rowan had never been the problem. Being a Dud had never been the problem. As he reflected on the night's events, he realized that perhaps his father had some deeper issues.

Rowan collapsed on one of the couches, fighting blackness as it crept into his vision. He hadn't lied to Kess; it wasn't a deep wound. But fighting, climbing down the side of the palace, and later jogging to the manor hadn't done him any favors. He swore as he saw his shirt completely coated in blood, even as it mixed with rainwater.

Moments later, Claire entered, took one look at him, and left. Arlette and Eamon filed in, and not long after that, Rae appeared. Rowan shot to his feet, though the room spun viciously. If Rae was here, then—

"Is Kess—" Rae met his eyes from across the room and shook her head.

"I don't have her." Rowan made to sit down again, but Claire entered again and dragged him bodily over to a low table by the fireplace. Rowan didn't fight the woman. He pulled off his shirt and lay down on the table, wincing as Claire prodded the wound in his side.

"Now will you remember to bandage wounds?" she asked, prodding again. Kess's insistence that Claire was violent suddenly made a lot more sense.

"I didn't have time," he ground out. Eamon walked over then, his face pained. He met Rowan's eyes.

"The lass?" Rowan simply shook his head, closing his eyes as Claire worked. "Lad, what happened?"

"I would love to know the same thing," Arlette snarled from the couch. "How do you two mess up a night of politics this badly?"

Rowan took a deep breath, gritting his teeth as Claire worked, and told them everything. He explained how his father had reneged on the deal, how Kess's brother had taken Rae's powers and ascended to Faleas's Seat, and how Rowan and Kess had quickly found themselves in hot water. Niall's betrayal resulted in a string of curses from Arlette.

"I knew we shouldn't have trusted that bastard," she said.

"Kess had the same misgivings about him," Rowan said, hissing slightly as Claire went in for another stitch. "He just didn't seem off to me. We studied together for years."

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"Well," Claire said. "I think we can confirm that your intuition about people is terrible. After all, no coward I've ever met could cause this much trouble this fast."

Rowan smiled faintly, though another part of him felt Kess's absence like a hole through his gut. Claire was right—he'd been wrong about Kess.

"We have to get her back," he said. Eamon sighed next to him.

"Aye, lad, but how? The palace is no easy job."

Silence reigned for a moment, then three pairs of eyes turned towards Rae. The woman backed up slowly, like a frightened animal. Her eyes were hollow, and though Rowan hadn't heard her story yet, he imagined it wasn't a happy one.

"I got myself out," Rae said. "She'll manage."

"You told me they're building hoards of Blockers down there," Claire snapped, her hands rougher on Rowan's wound as she spoke. "How is any Fulminancer supposed to get out of that?"

"Security will be better for Kess too," Arlette said, her eyes downcast. "No one expected Rae. They'll expect Kess."

Rae smirked at her comment, clearly self-satisfied. Then her smile faded again, her eyes lost. What Oliver had done might as well have destroyed the woman. Rae had always been the opposite side to Kess's coin—a woman who adored her powers as much as Kess feared her own. While Kess often took temporary power loss with relief, Rae looked a shadow of her former self.

Claire finished bandaging the wound around his ribcage and sent a jolt of Fulminancy into it that Rowan felt. He expected it to bounce back out, but it settled there firmly. Claire cocked her head, watching the wound.

"That's odd," she said. "Last time it wouldn't take." She shrugged and packed up her things, leaving Rowan to sit up in his still soaked clothes. A wave of nausea washed over him, but the wound felt better, at least. It would have to do for now. Arlette watched him for a moment, her eyes distant.

"I have a few ideas," she said. "But go change first. Five minutes won't make a difference in what we can do."

Rowan nodded and stumbled to his feet, ignoring Claire's scowl. Arlette was right—dry clothes would clear his mind, and he already found it distinctly hard to think as he shivered in his clothing.

He made his way to his rooms, frowning at their disuse. This last week or so, he'd found every excuse to be by Kess's side, spending most nights on the couch in her room. Now he'd left her to face the Council alone. What kind of man was he, to leave her like that?

The kind who knows when he's lost, he thought. He knew that staying to help Kess would have been suicide, but it did little to chase away his feelings. He changed quickly, ignoring the pain in his side and sleep as it tugged at his senses. Every moment he stood here was another moment that brought Kess closer to pain or death. He wouldn't waste what time he'd been given.

He was halfway down the stairs to the parlor, gingerly buckling his sword around his waist again, when Tad and Tio rushed in, soaking wet and panicked. Tad managed to salute, though Tio shifted on his feet, nervously looking over his shoulder with both spear and sword drawn.

"Sir, there's an army coming."

"An army?" Rowan searched the windows for some sight of them, but the storm cut off most of the outside world. He hadn't thought that the Uphill even fielded one, unless—

"Well, not quite an army, sir," Tad amended. "White robes, dozens of them, and ten Witchblade patrols to boot."

Arlette, Claire, and Eamon filed out of the parlor in time to hear the tail end of his statement.

"That's enough to overwhelm us in any case," Arlette said, eyes grim. She met men's eyes. "Get your families out, and you all after them."

"But Lady—"

"I mean it," Arlette said, grabbing Tio and shoving him towards the stairs. The boy stumbled a little, but backed off, though Tad remained in place, chin held high. "Unless you want your loved ones to become one of those things, you'll run." Slowly, Tad relented, his eyes wide. Tio finally spoke up as Tad joined him, his voice soft.

"But what about you all?"

"We fight," Rowan said simply, casting his gaze out the window.

"Lad, we'll be killed," Eamon said. Arlette checked her sword at her side as the Tad and Tio shouted for the rest of the guards to evacuate.

"We fight long enough to buy these men and their families time," she said. "Then we escape via the underground if we have to. I have a woman who owes me a favor." She eyed Rowan's side suspiciously, then looked at Claire. "Can he fight?"

"Maybe if you get some food in him. He's lost a lot of blood." Rowan opened his mouth to protest, but Rae appeared at his side like a ghost, shoving a couple of rolls into his hands. In spite of the gravity of the situation, Eamon had to stifle a laugh.

"Where did you—"

"Old habits die hard," Rae said, shrugging. "Eat up."

Rowan didn't like the idea of food in his belly before a battle, but he was still dizzy, so he shoved the rolls away as quickly as he could as they all split up, encouraging the remaining people in the manor to evacuate. They met back in the now empty lobby, most of them more armed than they had been before. Rowan and Eamon had retrieved some of their lighter armor, as well as a few extra blades. Arlette wore a leather jerkin and some light armor on her legs. From the look of the extra armor along the wall, she'd offered some to Rae, who'd refused. The woman carried two knives and no armor, but a significant grudge. Rowan figured that would do nicely, anyway.

Claire watched their group from the edge of the staircase, eyes distant, as if working out a puzzle. She hung slightly off one of the steps, holding her weight with the banister. She was no fighter, but she'd gotten them out of bad situations before with her quick thinking, not to mention her ability to patch everyone up on the fly.

Rowan sat on the staircase next to her, listening to the storm boom and crack overhead. If anything, it seemed closer now. He'd have worried about the state of the manor if it wasn't for the impending army outside. Several men and women rushed by the group, headed for the underground passages. Their group would follow soon—after the manor had been broken into, it wouldn't take long for their opponents to find the way out. They simply had to hope they could delay the enemy long enough to let everyone disperse into the tunnels, and hope they didn't trap themselves in the process.

"Thoughts?" Rowan asked Claire. Claire folded her arms, leaning against the banister as she watched lightning flash outside.

"We're windblown," she said.

"Helpful thoughts?"

Claire eyed him again, looking at his wound, then at the shoulder she'd attempted to patch up months ago. It didn't really bother him anymore, but it had taken longer than it should have to heal up, and there was a stiffness he couldn't quite shake each time he used it.

"My Fulminancy never took in that shoulder, did it?" she asked. He shook his head. Claire climbed a few steps lower than him, using the height difference to put her level with his head. She grabbed his shoulder, poking and prodding at it until Rowan winced.

"Claire, what're you—" Ignoring his protests, Claire slammed her fist into a nerve on his lower arm, sending a sharp pain and tingling sensation up his limb, leaving his hand deadened. She cut a tiny place on his upper arm with a knife, then sent her Fulminancy crawling up from his hand.

The light stopped and fizzled out where she'd hit his nerve, and blood continued to well from the cut in his arm. Rowan watched her, curious now in spite of the pain. "I think I know why I couldn't heal you back then," Claire said, a spark of insight in her eyes. "It was on a nerve."

"That's all well and good, Claire, but how does that help us now?"

"Because those things out there have human anatomy, regardless of what they might be now. It's a long shot, but if you aim for nerves, they shouldn't be able to channel Fulminancy at you."

"Fulminancy? But they're—"

"Rowan, how else do you think they're able to snuff out people like Kess and Rae? It's the same thing you've been able to do since before we ever met—that exact same power, concentrated into those…things."

Rowan stared at her, realizing the truth of the statement. He'd always thought of the Blockers as anti-Fulminant, and yet, like Rowan, they were just as Fulminant as anyone else in the city.

"I told my father about my powers, years ago," he whispered, his gut sinking. "I explained how the powers worked to him, and later to Niall. They must have—"

His words were cut off as the door at the front of the manor began to thump and strain against the bolt. Claire scrambled off down a side hallway, bag of healing supplies in tow, and the rest of their group followed.

"We hold them at the tunnels," Arlette said, drawing her sword. Rowan followed her numbly, his actions more habit than anything else. They made their way down the staircase as the thumping continued, going through several winding passages beneath the manor before they reached the main way out. At least the winding tunnels would keep the things occupied, for now.

They held their ground in a stairwell landing that led in two directions—one to their storage caverns, and the other into the underground. Claire continued on, leaving the others to stand there, waiting with swords drawn as the battle overhead approached.

Rowan had been in more fights than he wished to be a part of, but these creatures that now made their way through his home existed because of him. In his pride, arrogance, and eagerness to be accepted, he'd given his father and Niall a weapon with which to conquer the city.

As the first of the pale creatures descended the stairs, Rowan charged, leaping three of the steps to shove his sword right where he'd been wounded months ago. The thing gaped at the wound, then snarled at him. That same hand grabbed his arm, and though he'd never experienced their effects as profoundly as Rae or Kess, he felt none of the numbness that usually came with their attacks. Claire had been right. Grinning, he lopped the thing's head off and charged up the stairs to the next one.

He had made these creatures. He would stop them here, or die trying.