Shadow Heir

“Dorian!” It was all I could keep managing to say. Assured of my footing, I ran over to him and threw my arms around him. He returned the hug as best he could while still managing to support himself in the doorway.

“Why, Eugenie. Once again, I almost think you’re happy to see me. Surely you didn’t expect me to let you keep being the hero, did you? You’ve saved me far too many times. I needed to pull my share.”

I was so happy he was alive and mostly well that I still struggled to say anything coherent. I carefully disentangled myself from him. “I don’t know what to do,” I laughed. “I feel like I should cry or slap you.”

He grimaced. “Neither, please. If you like, I’ll provide you with several other more acceptable alternatives for later. But first ... I believe we have a blight to deal with.”

Dorian stretched out his hand, and the marble bust floated to him, compelled by his power over stone and earth. He held the bust in his hands and gazed admiringly at himself. “Such a fetching likeness, isn’t it?”

And with that, he hurled the bust to the tiled floor. The marble sculpture smashed into a hundred fragments and shards. Far away in the Otherworld, the Oak Land woke up.

Chapter 23

It didn’t take long for the Yew Land to be claimed. The same magic users that had aided Varia with the blight were all quick to scramble and seize a piece of her former land. As a result, the kingdom ended up reshifting into three smaller kingdoms. I’d been told that was possible in the Otherworld, but I’d never seen it happen. The three kingdoms shaped themselves to their new masters, becoming the Cork Land, the Cottonwood Land, and the Hickory Land. The Yew Land was no more.

Despite their involvement in Varia’s schemes, the new monarchs—two queens and one king—were quick to make pledges of peace and friendship to my party and the Hemlock contingent. These offers were legitimate, unlike Varia’s absurd “friendly” offer. The new monarchs were concerned with consolidating their power and establishing a rule. Alliances were far more beneficial than conquests.

The new monarchs would’ve hosted us for a while, but my group was anxious to return to our own lands and begin the healing there. We declined all the offers, promising to send ambassadors soon to set up trade agreements and treaties. Considering it might take a while before food production was back up in my kingdoms, this was actually a pretty solid plan.

Before we left, however, I had a very interesting conversation with Magia, the newly crowned Hickory Queen. As someone born and raised in the Yew Land, she was well versed in its history and legends.

“Of course I know about Volusian, Slayer of Souls,” she told me.

Dorian was with me, sitting with Magia in an inn that she’d made her headquarters until a castle could be built. I exchanged surprised glances with him.

“Slayer of Souls?” I asked.

“Definitely an impressive title,” mused Dorian. “I might start calling myself that.” He looked tired but had recovered by leaps and bounds, thanks to Alistir and a healer lent to us by Hadic of the Hemlock Land.

“I admit,” Magia added, “that I thought most of it was legend. According to the stories, Volusian was one of Onya’s most trusted advisers.”

“Onya?” Moments later, I remembered the portrait I’d seen in the throne room, depicting a queen of the same name and her two daughters.

Magia nodded. “Onya the Magnificent. Ganene’s mother. Varia’s grandmother. One of the Yew Land’s most powerful leaders. Their whole family was powerful. It was how they were able to keep passing the land down through the generations.”

“Remarkable,” Dorian agreed. I’d learned enough to know that lineage didn’t affect who controlled Otherworldly kingdoms. Power did. Monarchs certainly wanted their children to inherit, but many times, those offspring simply weren’t strong enough to claim the land.

“Onya had a younger daughter, Nissa the Fair.” I remembered the pretty girl in the painting and wondered if this use of nicknames was a Yew custom or simply a product of that era. I wondered also if history would remember me as Eugenie the Badass. “Nissa didn’t possess nearly the power of her sister and mother, but she was beautiful and kind and loved by many—including Volusian.”

I stared in disbelief. “Volusian—in love?” I think that was more unbelievable to me than any of the crazy acts of magic I had witnessed in the Otherworld.

“He was alive back then,” Dorian reminded me. “Not an undead creature forced to wander the worlds without peace. I imagine that would change a person.”