Heartless Heirs

CHAPTER 1

WHERE TRUTH CUTS, IT LEAVES CHAOS IN its wake. For my twin sister and me, that becomes clearer every minute. Each shard, each fact, chips away at the bond between us and the life we thought we knew.

The truth about what we really are—an experiment two hundred years in the making.

Our parents’ bond, and their death because of it.

A betrayal by the man Zandria loved.

My betrayal of the entire Magi people by falling in love with a Technocrat prince, the Heartless heir we were sent to assassinate.

The house of lies we once held dear has crumbled to pieces.

But those truths prickling around the edges of our hearts will have to wait. First, we must get out of this cursed Technocrat city alive. Then we can warn the rest of the Magi they’re in imminent danger.

An hour ago, we threw Palinor into chaos by destroying a sizable section of the Palace’s subterranean levels as we escaped the dungeons with our childhood friend, Remy Gaville. Dawn hasn’t yet dared to creep over the steel roofs of the city, but the streets and ramparts are overflowing with men. They form a net of flesh and blood and metal, ready and waiting to catch us.

Nothing is more terrifying to the Technocrats than a Magi on the loose. Three of us calls for every able-bodied soldier to remain on high alert.

We managed to steal some supplies—food, a change of clothes, and a couple water skeins—by shadowing guards while we hid under a shield spell. Now we huddle under a window in a shop not far from the northern gate, waiting for an opportunity to get through. We know one way out, but the path is blocked. Guards line the alley where we once exited through a secret tunnel led by Darian Azul.

Just the thought of the traitor’s name makes me quiver with rage.

My sister and I may disagree on many things at the moment, but we’re united in our shared hatred of that man.

If we get close enough, we could kill half the guards in that alley very quickly, Zandria whispers a little too eagerly for my liking.

Right, but then the other half would be on top of us in seconds, I say. We can’t simply power through. There are too many of them, and too few of us. Zandria may be different since we rescued her from the dungeons and the Technocrats’ torturous metal suits, but in one way she remains the same: she’s as impulsive as ever. Now with a newer, more brutal bent.

Remy grabs my wrist. Stop talking. Both of you.

We hold our breaths. Even before I hear it, I know what we’re listening for.

The unmistakable metallic clank of the machines.

Zandria’s face turns white as a sheet in the predawn light.

We have to get out of here before they reach us, she hisses. Let’s just bring the wall down on their heads. Then we can get to the tunnel before they know what hit them. She rises, but I yank her back down.

No. The machines will know exactly where to hunt if we do that. If we stay here until they pass, we have a shot.

Aissa’s right. We need to lay low, Remy says.

Zandria looks as if she wants to scream. Her eyes wildly glance between us as the skittering of metal legs grows louder. Remy and I each take one of her hands and squeeze tightly. She yanks her hand out of mine like she’s been burned.

It feels like a slap, but I do my best to ignore it. Breathe, Zandy, I whisper. We’ll get through this.

I peek out the window onto the street. Only guards are out there now. Any curious onlookers have been ordered back to their homes.

But they have our descriptions, and they know we’re trying to escape the city.

We need to change our appearances, I say to Zandria. She nods curtly and begins casting the spell. In moments, our red hair and green eyes are gone. In their place, I have dark hair and blue eyes, and she’s taller, with brown hair and brown eyes. Remy attempts the spell too, and only manages to alter his features somewhat, likely because he hasn’t had time to practice like we did.

It will have to be enough. The first mechs are the seekers, trundling like spiders over the cobblestone streets. Some turn down other streets and alleys, hunting for us. A few buildings down the road, they begin prying open shop doors. Soon they’ll reach us.

I know what to do, I say suddenly. We can’t go out on the streets, and we can’t stay here much longer either. We’re going to tunnel to the secret passage.

Zandria’s eyes widen, but her shaking begins to subside.

We locate the latch to the cellar and drop down one by one. Remy closes it behind us and fastens the lock. Outside the front door, metallic legs prod and pry. I shudder.

My twin’s hands quiver as she weaves them. The metal walls reinforcing the cellar peel away, leaving a door-sized patch of dirt behind. Remy casts his own spell to help, and soon the three of us tunnel forward, shifting the earth at full speed.

Zandria packs the dirt behind us while Remy and I continue to use our spells to dig ahead. Once we hit brick and metal again, my sister joins me in the lead. The secret tunnel is hidden in the alley just across the street from the shop where we took cover, so we’ve been digging in a straight line. Zandria eyes the bricks suspiciously; we don’t know exactly what’s beyond them. There could be guards lying in wait or no one at all.

We have no choice but to find out. We’ll run out of air if we remain down here for long.

I hum softly, coaxing a brick from the wall. Beside me, Zandria casts a silencing spell so it won’t make a sound as it slides free. I peek through—and relief floods my limbs. The hall is empty. The king and queen no doubt have heard how we escaped their dungeons and must’ve called all the guards above ground to hunt for us. If we do encounter a guard or two, we should be able to disarm or evade them.

It’s safe, I whisper. Come on.

Zandria and I make short work of dismantling the wall with our magic, then we all step into the silent, metal-paneled hall. I take a moment to put the wall back together before we proceed; no one needs to know how we escaped.

Nerves strung tight as bow strings, we run down the hall in the direction of the gates. This tunnel goes right under the city walls. We only have a couple more turns until we’re free, when I stop suddenly. Zandria and Remy pause behind me, our heaving breaths blessedly silent thanks to the spell Remy casts.

Footsteps ring out directly in front of us. There’s nowhere to hide, no rooms to duck into. Zandria’s expression quickly shifts from terror to rage, and her hands begin to move. I shake my head at her, then hum a shield spell that envelops us just before the guard tromps around the corner. We flatten ourselves against the wall, hearts in our throats.

The guard passes by, unaware of our presence.

When he’s safely around the next corner, we wait for another minute, then finally move ahead.

We should’ve just killed him, Zandria hisses. Why are you protecting them?

Her words surprise me. If we leave a trail of bodies in our wake, Darian and the royals will know exactly which way we went and how we left the city. It would only expose us.

My sister grunts but doesn’t respond. When we reach the end of the tunnel, we exit into the cool air of the metal forest.

We may be out of the city, but we’re not safe yet.

We take off at a run, racing in the direction of the Chambers—the underground hideaway where the last remaining members of the Magi faction live. The woods are crawling with Technocrats and their fearsome machines—every one of them searching for us. The screech of metal beasts brushing against metal trees haunts the woods, setting our teeth on edge.

Finally, we enter a rocky section where real trees have begun to take root. There are still many of the lifeless metal trees the Technocrats installed after the wars to give the semblance of a forest, now brushing up against green leaves and moss-coated bark. At least they’re useful for hiding when necessary.

We have to rest, Zandria says. Her face looks paler than usual. Remy puts a hand on her shoulder.

We can rest here, he says. We’ll make a place to hide if we have to.

Zandria straightens her spine. Just for a few minutes. Then I can go on. We can’t afford to stop for long.

We can’t afford for you to get captured again either, Remy says.

I step between them. We’ll take ten minutes to eat something and rest our legs. Then we’ll get moving.

Remy starts to say something, but I hold up a hand. Why don’t you keep watch, Remy?

Fine, he says, and stalks off a few yards.

I sit next to my sister on a log flanked by ferns and split the few rations we were able to steal before leaving the city. We may be free now, but her expression is tight and laced with grief.

I understand why.

She’s reeling from all I’ve told her since we rescued her from the dungeons. Our parents’ deaths and Darian’s betrayal most of all. She had no idea either that long ago, our parents risked the wrath of the Armory Council and used the forbidden Binding rite to irrevocably join themselves together—heart, body, and soul. Ultimately, it was their undoing. When Darian arrived that terrible night, searching for me, he only had to stab one parent to kill them both. Zandria and I both trusted Darian when we first met him. He’s the Magi spymaster, after all. But his loyalty lies only with himself. And he will sacrifice anything—and anyone—in his way.

Add to all that the fact I fell for—and performed the Binding rite with—the very person I was supposed to kill: Aro. I imagine Zandria sees that as a betrayal too. My sister spent weeks in captivity, only to find the world had turned upside down in her absence.

The way she looks at me now . . . breaks my heart.

I rest my head on her shoulder. She flinches and shrugs me off.

I don’t know what to say. The only comfort I have to offer her is that we’ve finally been reunited. After what we’ve been through, I’m not sure that’s enough.

While we eat, my thoughts drift back to Aro. I’m worried about him. He foolishly insisted on remaining in Palinor because he believes he can make a difference.

It’s futile. But I do believe his parents, the king and queen, will protect him. The wild card is Darian, their most trusted advisor and second in line to the throne—after Aro. What will Darian do now that Aro knows his plans? I’ve left the person I love—literally given my heart to—in a nest of knives and vipers.

I haven’t told Zandy yet, but I’ve already made up my mind: once we get the rest of the Magi to safety, I’m going back for Aro.

Remy appears before us, scowling deeper than I’ve seen before. We need to leave. Right now.

We get to our feet without a moment’s hesitation. Remy’s furious with us for concealing the truth about our magic, but he’s been drawn into this mess by helping my sister and me escape. He won’t betray us to the Technocrats.

However, his father, Isaiah—the leader of the Magi—is another matter. I don’t fully trust Remy to keep our secret from him.

But that won’t matter if we never reach the Chambers.

We head out again, each of us putting a protective spell in place. I cast the shield spell that conceals us, Zandria casts the silencing spell, and Remy covers our tracks.

We keep an ear out for the sounds of skittering metal, our bodies tense as we walk briskly. We won’t run unless a machine or a soldier is directly upon us, or else we’ll wear ourselves out quickly.

Remy is a little ways ahead of me and Zandy. When he stops short, holding up a fist, magic flares inside me, as I know it does for my companions. We’re ready to defend ourselves if necessary.

After a moment of standing stock-still, listening only to the sound of our own breaths, we hear it: the click of metal. Steel parts moving in tandem, a machine with legs. I shudder. It could be any number of things, and only one or a pack.

This way! Remy hisses as he shoves us toward the eastern part of the forest. We need to head northeast to reach the Chambers, but the detour is worth it to evade the machines.

This time we run.

Despite our quickened pace, the machines draw closer, their noise growing louder than before. My pulse throbs in my ears.

We are absolutely not getting caught now. Not when we’re so close to escape.

Soon the sound comes from all around us. It’s impossible to pinpoint the exact direction. We’ve been careful to hide our tracks and stay under our spells. But something must’ve given us away.

We burst through a break in the trees into a field filled with large boulders. I scramble onto the nearest one, turning to see in all directions. Within moments, a metal beast steps onto the field at each of the four points—north, south, east, and west.

Mechwolves.

The articulated metal in their sleek bodies repeats the sound we heard. I take in the legs that allow them to run at inhuman speeds, perked ears with listening devices that can transmit back to whoever controls them, and razor-sharp teeth meant to tear apart their prey. My palms turn slick. These are not the sort of machines the Technocrats send out when they want to capture someone.

They’re the kind they deploy when they want to kill.

Remy and Zandria clamber onto the boulder beside me. We’re surrounded. I glance at my sister. We’ve never used our secret magic so brazenly before. But doing so now is the only way to defang this new threat. Remy is already muttering a spell to lift one of the nearby boulders when the mechwolves rush toward us. He knocks one aside, but another slips through. Its cold, reflective eyes bore into me as it lunges in my direction.

Anxiety and exhilaration fill me in equal parts as my magic rips its head clean off its neck. Its body clanks as it tumbles to the ground, a mess of metal legs and parts, and the head bounces once beside it.

This is what my sister and I were born—made—to do. Act on the machines and organic matter. Using my magic boldly may be risky, but it’s still a thrill.

The mechwolves aren’t done with us yet. Zandria makes short work of one of the two barreling down at her, and I take on the second with the same spell, dismantling it efficiently. When we turn around, we find Remy has successfully used the small boulder to crush the mechwolf he knocked off its feet earlier.

You really can use magic on the machines, Remy says, awe creeping into his voice.

I snort. Did you think we made up a treasonous claim just for fun?

No, no. But seeing it in action is something else. He puts a hand on my shoulder. With what you can do, we could destroy the entire Technocrat army. We could—

We do have limits, you know, Zandria says, finally straightening up again. We still need our hands and our breath to cast spells. And if they sneak up on us unawares or overwhelm us with sheer numbers . . . My sister shudders. She doesn’t need to finish that sentence. We both know what will happen.

An eternity captive in a metal suit within the Technocrats’ dungeons. A burned-out tongue, crushed hands. No light or life ever again.

Still, well done, Remy says. He’s not happy with us, but it’s evident he’s beginning to realize what an asset our powers can be.

Let’s go before more of them pick up our trail, I say.

And before they find what’s left of these, Zandria says, kicking a stray piece of metal.

Finally heading in the right direction, we hike as quickly as we can with a few stops for food and rest. When darkness falls, we choose to walk all night. We’re near delirious with exhaustion, but stopping for sleep will mean our deaths.

Forward is the only way if we want to live long enough to warn the others.

We trudge along on weary legs and worn-out feet until the wee morning hours. The ravine finally comes into view, slicing through the earth.

The Chambers.

CHAPTER 2

RELIEF WASHES OVER ME. THE FAMILIAR gorge yawns before us, lined on either side with green trees and craggy rocks. The place where we must reveal the stone steps with a spell is nearby, welcoming as ever. Part of me was terrified we’d arrive too late.

My eyes sting with unshed tears, but I don’t let them fall. If we want the Magi to survive, Isaiah needs to take us seriously. I can’t afford to show any sign of weakness.

Remy’s expression shifts from the scowl he’s been wearing ever since we left Palinor to one that’s lighter, more hopeful. The Techno camp . . . it’s really gone.

For now, I say, unable to release the anxious knot in my gut.

We check our surroundings one last time to ensure no machines or guards followed us, then work the spell to open the stairs down into the ravine and the Magi’s refuge. Once we reach the bottom, we send the stairs back into the cliff face. Then we slip through the shadowed crack in the wall that leads into the strange world of light and life hidden in the massive cavern system the Magi call home.

For the first time, I don’t feel safe here.

I’m surprised to see no sign of the soldiers and mechs Darian had posted near the ravine. Not long ago, Remy and I narrowly avoided running right into them as we left the Chambers. Darian had plans for them to mine the vein of magic ore that runs through this land.

Something’s wrong. I can feel it in my bones.

We stumble our way to Isaiah’s home. Exhausted, we fall into the chairs around his kitchen table. The polished stone walls dotted here and there with the green that fills this place are the same as they were a few weeks ago. Isaiah comes out of his rooms, clearly not expecting guests at this early hour, let alone three bedraggled ones.

Not much can catch Isaiah Gaville off guard, but at the sight of us, his mouth drops open. He recovers himself a moment later.

Remy, what is the meaning of this? You and Aissa are stationed in Palinor. You already risked your post to come here recently. Why are you here again?

Before Remy can answer, I step forward. We must speak to the council immediately. It’s an emergency.

You will tell me and I’ll decide if—

We will not, I say, keeping my expression as calm as possible. We’re all in grave danger, and the Armory Council must be warned.

Isaiah’s deep frown informs me I’ve stepped way over the line. But his eyes widen when the spell that changed Zandria’s features dissipates and she reverts to her normal appearance. Mine expired minutes before we went down the steps.

Both of you? Isaiah muses. You went against my explicit orders and rescued your sister?

No, Father, Remy says with a grimace. We were captured. But an . . . unexpected ally helped us escape with Zandria. I silently thank Remy for not mentioning exactly who that ally was. That would do us no favors with his father.

Isaiah raises an eyebrow. And you refuse to tell me the news you bring now?

The council must hear it. We wouldn’t do this if it weren’t of the utmost importance, Remy says. But first I have a question for you—is Darian Azul here?

Isaiah shakes his head. No. Why?

You’ll understand once we relay our news, Remy insists.

His father scoffs. Fine. I’ll convene the council. But know that I’m doing it primarily to call for censuring the three of you.

He returns to his rooms and we’re left staring at each other.

Zandria snorts. Well, that went terribly.

Remy runs his hands over his face. Yes, it did. Let’s try to get some sleep before the council convenes.

Remy and I take the rooms we had before. This time Zandria joins me in mine and we sleep in the same bed. I don’t want to let her out of my sight now that I’ve got her back. We’re exhausted enough that we fall asleep quickly, our dreams filled with fears of what nightmares may come next.

We’re awakened by Remy shaking our shoulders.

The council is convening in one hour, he says. We should eat something before we go.

Zandria and I dress quickly in the clean clothes we stole on our way out of Palinor. What we were wearing is dirtied and torn from our flight and fight.

We give each other the once-over before we leave the room. Zandria fixes my mussed-up hair, while I pull a wayward leaf off her shirt. Things almost feel as they used to between us, except that her voice and expression are cold, void of her familiar warmth. It seems like an eternity ago that Isaiah first sat in our kitchen and assigned us our mission to find the Heartless heir to the Technocrat throne. Somehow that’s all led us here to deliver our dire warning.

We join Remy in a quick breakfast of toast and wild blueberry jam, then hurry to the cave where the Armory Council holds court. The lush greenery on the way is a sight for sore eyes, but the fear it could all disappear tempers any joy I might feel about being home. Our parents, for one, will never return here again. The Magi we pass greet us curiously. They know Remy well, and me—and Zandria—they recognize from when I came here last to plead for the council to help me rescue her. My arrival, and speedy exit, were noticeable to say the least.

We don’t linger, however, and when we arrive at the Armory Council room, we’re ushered in immediately and greeted by unhappy, suspicious faces. I’m just grateful Darian didn’t find a way to join us. The rushed meeting was necessary, even if it has angered some council members.

Well, Isaiah says, holding his arms wide. What is it that you three must so urgently tell us?

Isaiah glances at his son, but Remy cedes the floor to me. I step forward, my throat coated with icicles.

We’ve come directly from Palinor with dire news. We walked all night without stopping, all while the woods were crawling with Technos hunting for us.

That manages to raise some eyebrows.

What did you do to earn such a show of force? asks Masia Harkness, her long blue robes wrapped around her. Zandria’s eyes widen at the sound of Masia’s voice. We idolized her when we were children.

We uncovered a terrible plot. One of our own, Darian Azul, spymaster, is working against the Magi. The Chambers has been compromised.

The declaration is met with silence at first, then a laugh or two. Isaiah scowls.

"This is what you came here to do? Make baseless accusations against one of the most loyal weapons in the Armory?"

It’s not baseless, Father, Remy says. I’ve seen and heard the proof with my own eyes and ears.

Darian’s the reason I was captured by the Technocrats in the first place, Zandria says, her hands balled into fists at her sides.

Yes, it is certainly . . . interesting . . . that you’re free now, Zandria. Masia eyes me and Remy. What is this proof you speak of?

Remy and I were searching the palace for the heir—as directed—when we happened upon some scientists heading to a demonstration of a supposed breakthrough on a new power source, I say. We followed them and hid in the room next door. We heard Darian tell the gathered scientists and researchers the stone power source he was unveiling kept a charge after being infused with geothermal energy, but that was a lie. When he turned his machine on in the demonstration room, another lit up in ours. It contained Magi, clearly in pain. I take a deep breath, then plunge ahead. Darian has devised a means of draining our magic.

The response is not at all what we anticipated.

You must be joking, Isaiah says, and several council members mutter the same beside him. This is a wild story, but it doesn’t smack at all of truth.

Frustration builds inside my chest. Once again, they’re going to rebuff us. But this time we all will pay the price.

Another council member speaks up. What proof have you brought us of these grave accusations?

"Our testimony is our proof, Remy says. I trusted Darian as much as any of you. Even when we saw our trapped brethren in the draining machines, I argued in favor of trusting him, just as you do now. It’s unthinkable he’d betray us in such a manner, but he did. When Aissa and I left the room, Darian used a spell to reveal us as Magi and oversaw our capture and subsequent interrogation."

You expect us to take your word against that of our most trusted spy? Isaiah says.

Yes, I say. He told me his whole plan in an effort to bring me—and by association, Zandria—over to his side.

Masia sits up straighter, curiosity sparking in her dark eyes. And what is his plan?

I pause, painfully aware of the fact I’m about to betray another Magi’s secret. He may deserve it, but that doesn’t make me like it any better.

Years ago, Darian was married. That, finally, elicits some surprise among those on the council. He married a Heartless. He became obsessed with their plight and led the charge to find a cure. When she died not long after their wedding, his work moved into dangerous territory. He didn’t just want a better power source—he wanted one that would run forever and would make the Heartless loyal to him. Because while this was happening, the Armory’s plan to install him on the throne was also in motion. Darian was ready to assume leadership, either through playing the role he was meant to or by building an army of supercharged Heartless who had sworn fealty to him.

And he’d already decided to play both sides, Remy adds. He told the Technocrat king and queen years ago that the Magi tried to recruit him, and they instructed him to play along. He’s been feeding us bad intel ever since. For example, the Heartless heir was really a boy around our age, not a little girl as Darian suggested.

Isaiah’s mouth is clamped closed. He knows the intel we got about the heir being female was incorrect, but he may not have informed the rest of the Armory Council.

And why would he admit all this to you, Aissa? Isaiah says.

I grimace, not loving the lie I’m about to tell. Somehow he got wind of how Zandria’s and my magic amplifies each other’s before I even came to the council a few weeks ago. He wanted us on his side. To join his army once he stages his coup. He even set a trap for Zandria in the tunnels so he could leverage her to ensure my assistance.

You? Isaiah begins to laugh. More than one council member covers their mouth to hide their own laughter. So this is your proof? An inflated sense of your own importance? Ridiculous, he says.

My anger flares, making me dizzy.

He imprisoned me too, Father, Remy says. He may not have tried to win me over to his cause like he did Aissa, but he was ready to condemn me to life in a metal suit without a second thought.

Isaiah blinks at this but remains unmoved. If you were imprisoned, it was your own fault. That’s the price for mistakes when it comes to the Technocrats.

Remy’s mouth drops open. He’s finally beginning to realize what Zandria and I long ago understood: Isaiah is a harsh taskmaster. He’s as cold as the Technocrats themselves. Even his only son cannot change his mind.

We’ll all pay the price if you don’t listen to us! Zandria steps forward, visibly shaking. She can barely contain her magic. I almost put a restraining hand on her shoulder, but then think better of it. It might make things worse.

She isn’t wrong, I say. Darian also threatened the Magi living here in the Chambers.

Masia leans forward, suddenly more interested. What do you mean? How did he threaten us?

When Remy and I left the Chambers the last time we were here, a camp of Technocrat soldiers and their mechanimals were prowling along the edge of the ravine. At first, we were afraid a captured Magi had given up the location of the secret camp, but later Darian told me they were here at his orders.

Is this army still there? Masia asks.

Not that we noticed. And we were very careful coming here.

Isaiah sits back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. Then I suppose you have your answer. They weren’t much of a threat after all, were they? If Darian meant to use them against us, wouldn’t he still have them posted here?

I—I would’ve thought so,