The Legend of Kimberly: Inheritance
“Let’s get to it, people.” Trey tossed a money bag to Helena. “Try and get us horses. Flirt if you have to.”
Helena gave him a mock salute. Flipping her hair, she turned and wandered away, her hips swaying more than usual. Ronnee looked at Trey, waiting.
“See if you can make some money with those muscles of yours. I’m certain the smithy or the stables will have use of your talents. Catch up by dinner.”
Ronnee nodded and started to walk away down the street.
“Ronnee,” Trey called to the man.
The giant turned to look at Trey, his eyebrows raised.
Trey’s face was deadly serious. “Flirt if you have to.”
Kimberly giggled and Ronnee walked away, chortling to himself. Ip barked his encouragement at Ronnee, his bushy tail wagging underneath Kimberly’s arms.
Kimberly walked into the inn with Serra and Trey. She waited patiently while Trey worked out a deal with the owner. They found themselves in a large room on the second floor; it had two beds and a window overlooking the front road. Kimberly hugged Ip too tightly, excited to see something other than the hard ground to sleep on. Ip protested with a squeak and squeezed out of her arms. Indignant, he crossed the slightly dirty, wooden floor of the room and jumped on the windowsill, licking his paws.
“I’m going to talk to some contacts in town. The two of you should stay here for now.” Trey handed Kimberly some coins. “Just in case you get hungry. Eat in the room.”
Kimberly accepted the Auviarran money, wondering if she should just keep it instead. Fascinated, she turned the coins over in her palms, studying the strange faces.
“I’m going to lie down,” Serra said.
Kimberly knew Serra didn’t need sleep, but she also knew Serra was weakest during the daytime. Shrugging off her dark cloak, Serra slipped under the covers and turned away from Kimberly. Kimberly blushed, remembering how many times Serra had caught her staring, curious about the half demon’s sinister nightly transformation. She figured Serra probably didn’t like her much and she really couldn’t blame her.
“When will you be back?” Kimberly asked, looking at Trey.
“When I walk through this door.” Trey ran his fingers through his hair, pulling some dirt free. “Ip, you’re in charge until I do.”
Across the room, the little fox barked in acknowledgement. Trey smiled and then walked out, shutting the door behind him.
Kimberly debated lying down for a bit. The thought of a long nap sounded so good. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she found she could see out the window. The activity on the street caught her attention immediately. She watched the people of the city go about their day for quite some time, happy to be able to stare to her heart’s content. At one point, she saw Ronnee walk by, giant pieces of steel stacked up in his arms. She called out to him and waved excitedly. The giant gave her a huge smile, sweat pouring down his face.
“I can sense the changes in you.” Kimberly jumped, having all but forgotten her roommate. Turning, she saw Serra had rolled over to face her, her body scrunched up and the blankets pulled over her head. Through a tiny gap in the fabric, she could just make out Serra’s dark eyes.
“Excuse me?”
“You are changing inside.” Serra squinted and her gaze was piercing. “It’s like watching hot, liquid steel get poured into water. They cannot mix, and each fights to win.”
Oh God, Kimberly thought to herself. I’m getting my first vague riddle.
“Your magic. The sword’s magic.”
“Oh.” She understood what Serra meant. In the last couple of days, the changes to her body were becoming more apparent. During practice, her movements were becoming faster, her strikes better. Muscle mass was beginning to build on her arms and legs at an accelerated rate, giving her limbs a slightly toned look. Even her hair was growing faster now, almost two inches since she had arrived in Auviarra. The same thing had happened to Elurra when she became Willow’s owner.
“It’s the sword. It has to change me so I can wield it right,” Kimberly said, explaining it to Serra.
“Uh huh.” Serra didn’t look so certain, but Kimberly attributed it to her weakened state.
“How did you meet Trey?”
Serra rolled over, ignoring her question. Kimberly stared in mild disbelief, but didn’t say anything. No reason to push her luck.
Ip growled. Kimberly turned toward the fox. Ip was watching something out the window. Curious, Kimberly walked over to see what he was growling at. Out in the street stood a large group of men; most likely they had just come in with a caravan. There were at least fifteen of them and they were all dressed the same. They wore long, white cloaks over matching robes and they were holding hands in a circle.
“Why are those guys praying?” Kimberly picked up Ip and stroked his fur. His growls were muted only slightly.
“What guys?” Serra rolled back over, her eyes squinting toward the window.
“A group of guys wearing white cloaks. They’re standing in a… hey!” Serra shoved Kimberly out of the way, her eyes intent on the street below.
“Oh no,” Serra whispered, moving away from the window. “We need to get out of here.”
“Why? Who are they?” Kimberly racked her brain, trying to remember if they had ever been mentioned in her grandfather’s books.
Serra turned toward Kimberly. Her dark eyes were full of fear.
“Most people call them demon hunters. That’s not entirely true.” She pointed toward the street. “They’re religious zealots, purity seekers. I may have killed a few of them over the years. Self-defense,” she added, raising her hands. “They have their own agenda. They hunt creatures like me purely to promote their cause.”
“Well, we should be fine if we just wait here.”
“Not true. They can sense the darkness in me. And in you. If they haven’t sensed either of us yet, it will only be a matter of time.”
“I don’t have any darkness,” Kimberly protested, but Serra ignored her. Serra, still weak, was lying on the bed in an attempt to put her sword belt on. Kimberly looked back out the window and was surprised to see one of the men looking back. It wasn’t a friendly look at all.
“Uh oh.” Kimberly saw the men break into two groups. One group circled around the side of the building, disappearing from view. The other group walked underneath, presumably through the front door.
Serra muttered a few choice words about the men and their ancestors. Kimberly blushed.
“I can’t fight like this,” Serra moaned. She was trying to pull her sword from her sheath, an act that had left her gasping for air already.
Kimberly made sure the door was locked and then pushed one of the beds against it. She placed herself between Serra and the door. Looking over her shoulder at Serra, she felt her hands begin to shake and fought to keep her voice from trembling. At her hip, Willow pulsed softly, giving her strength.
“You won’t have to.” Kimberly’s voice was quiet. She hoped she was right.
She felt a breeze on the back of her neck. Puzzled, she turned to see the window had been opened. Ip was gone.
* * *
Trey was in a quiet basement, sitting at a table covered in scrolls. The man across from him had said very little, admitting him on recognition alone. Every member of the Society knew who he was.
Rubbing his eyes, Trey dug through more information, looking for references to Elurra and the Black Knight. He had hoped to find something to help Kimberly, but found very little reference to Elurra after her legendary fight. It was as if she had disappeared.
“Are you sure this is all you have?” Trey asked, perhaps for the tenth time. The man across from him just nodded.
“Damn.” He scratched his neck and grimaced, “Put the word out. Any info on what happened to Elurra after she fought the Black Knight. It is extremely important.”
The man, an acolyte of the Society, nodded and pulled out a candle. The word would travel faster than Trey could. The ca
ndle lit itself under the acolyte’s hand. The acolyte bent low and began whispering Trey’s request in one of the old tongues. The flame wavered under his breath, causing dozens of similar candles across the land to mimic its movements.
Trey thanked the man and let himself out, closing the door behind him. It all but vanished in the wall. The only hint it had even been there was a drawing of an eye with a flame for a pupil, marking it as an information center for Society members.
He had gotten lucky in finding the place. The Society was well hidden and for good reason. It was one of the few secrets he kept from his friends, but he had taken an oath. They had benefitted from the Society’s knowledge more than a few times and would understand.
He walked out of the alleyway and stopped. Ip was sitting on the road, almost like he had been waiting for Trey. Surprised, Trey asked “What are you doing here?”
Ip whined and ran back down the road, toward the inn. Puzzled, Trey followed. He wondered how the fox had even found him. They weren’t notorious for their tracking skills.
Then again, he had wondered more than once about Ip. There was more to him than what could be seen. He would bet his sword on it.
He could hear it now, the sounds of men calling to one another and of metal clanging together. He recognized one of the battle cries and scowled in anger. Putting his fingers to his lips, he blew a loud shrill whistle into the air, then ran toward the inn.
* * *
They were trying to push their way through the door, shouting strange threats at Kimberly through the various holes they had punched through the wood. Paralyzed by indecision, she could only stand there and watch as the barrier was slowly destroyed.
She felt incredibly small when they burst through the door. The first man through pushed the bed away, making room for his comrades. They wore intent expressions that gave Kimberly little doubt why they were here.
Her hands were shaking uncontrollably now. As the men came at her, their blades drawn, it occurred to Kimberly that she hadn’t instigated the encounter. It wasn’t something she had done to warrant this reaction, this wasn’t a result of some wrong she had committed.
For just a second, the men reminded her of her father. Evil, hate-filled faces lunged forward, filling her vision.
Her hands quit shaking.
The first white-cloak was the luckiest. She knocked his sword aside, her limbs moving fast due to the magic. Not totally committed to hurting them, she only struck him a glancing blow along his thigh. Her blade sliced through his robes without resistance, leaving a bloody wound that burned with blue fire.
The next man kicked out at her, a move that cost him a foot. Crying out, he fell back, holding his leg. As a third man pushed his way forward, she heard the sound of metal on metal behind her. Chancing a glance over her shoulder, she swore. A white-cloak had come in through the window and was trying, unsuccessfully, to knock the blade from Serra’s hand.
Kimberly drove Willow’s blade into the floorboard and sent the tendrils billowing out. They wrapped around a white-cloak in the doorway, pulling him into the air. The wood groaned underneath Kimberly as the white-cloak sailed past, colliding with the man fighting Serra. They both tumbled out the window with a cry.
“How many more?” Serra asked. Kimberly shrugged, unable to remember how many men had been out there to begin with. Another white-cloak poked his head in the door and tossed something into the room.
“What is…” There was a flash of light. Kimberly’s legs went numb. The floor rose up to meet her.
* * *
Rough hands on her wrists yanked her up. Unable to control her body, her head rolled in circles as she was moved. Her heart was beating so fast, her chest felt like it was on fire.
“Take this one too.” A hand grabbed her chin, yanking her head forward. Her captor slowly came into focus, a white robe with big eyebrows and onion breath. Behind him she could see the doorway to her room. A shadow filled it completely and approached them.
A colossal hand gripped Onion Breath by the shoulder, spinning him around. Kimberly fell backward with her other captor and heard the sound of ripping fabric. Struggling to rise, she saw Ronnee had twisted the man’s cloak around his fist. The half giant yanked hard on the cloak and delivered a haymaker that would crumple an ox. The cloak ripped free and the white-cloak flew backward into the bed, his neck bent at an unnatural angle.
The other white-cloak dropped Kimberly and drew his sword. He shouted out a battle cry and ran forward, his sword held high. The sword struck a ceiling beam, knocking the man off balance.
Ronnee laughed and engulfed the attacker’s hand with his own, pinning the sword in place. With a heave, he hurled the man toward the open window. Ronnee’s aim wasn’t the best; the man’s legs caught the window’s frame, sending him spinning out into the open air.
Kimberly fought to stand, but her legs were still numb. Ronnee picked her up, slinging her over one shoulder. She watched him do the same thing with Serra. He carried them out the door and through the building. Broken furniture and white-cloaks littered the halls.
Ronnee lumbered out into the street. As he turned, Kimberly could see the curious crowds that had gathered along the streets to watch the commotion. Ronnee ran along the side of the building and entered a narrow alley.
Kimberly heard Ip bark. She opened her mouth to call out his name. As she mumbled, an arrow struck Ronnee in the back, only a couple inches from her face. She prayed to all the Auviarran gods that she hadn’t just wet herself on Ronnee’s shoulder.
Ronnee grunted and turned around. Kimberly’s world spun as she was unceremoniously dropped. Her legs were tingly and all full of sand now, and she crawled to an upright position. From where she sat, she could see Ronnee had picked up the archer and was swinging him into another man like a club. A third man appeared behind Ronnee holding a spear and moving in.
“Ronnee!” It was all Kimberly could shout and it wasn’t near loud enough. The spear carrier was closing fast when a crossbow bolt pierced him from behind. He dropped to the ground with a gurgle and then Helena was there. She winked at Kimberly and reloaded her weapon.
“They are harbingers of the dark one!” A white-cloak with a long, greasy beard was hollering now at the gathered crowd. “They seek to bring darkness on us all!”
Trey walked up behind the man and skewered him with his blade. The man grunted out a curse before he fell.
“Time to leave.” Trey wiped his sword on the dead man at his feet.
Kimberly struggled to stand. Ip ran over and barked encouragement. Her legs were still all rubbery. Helena grabbed Kimberly by the hand and pulled. Her legs were full of fire now. Ronnee picked up Serra and they quickly ran to the edge of town.
Cries of protest rose behind them, the shock of the attack wearing off. The little group started running again, leaving the path and disappearing into the woods. Kimberly’s heart raced as she fought to keep up. It wasn’t long before she could hear pursuit behind them.
An arrow buried itself in the ground just ahead of her, fletched with white feathers. Another soared just past her shoulder, hitting a rock and breaking.
Willow pulsed and Kimberly drew it. A white-cloak spun out of the trees ahead. She charged forward to strike, but Trey was there like lightning, slashing once with his sword. Kimberly saw the man’s face as he died, denial etched in lines across his face as he sank to the ground.
“Keep moving,” Trey shouted at her, his face tense. She could sense something boiling beneath his calm exterior, something that made her shudder inside.
The group spilled into a clearing. The trees cast ominous shadows across dead grass and broken rocks littered the clearing like jagged teeth. Hairs on Kimberly’s neck rose as she felt something about the clearing change, a tingling sensation that gave her chills. A dense fog billowed up from the ground, shadows moving around in it.
“Look for the caster,” Helena called out, her crossbows drawn. Kimberly tightened her grip on
Willow and scanned the area. Ronnee set Serra down beneath his legs and drew his ax.
“Watch the shadows. And no matter what, don’t let them take Serra.” Trey directed his words at Kimberly, who nodded. The white-cloaks were going to great lengths to attack them. She tried to swallow her fear, but it was stuck in her throat like a cold piece of apple.
Ip barked; a white-cloak burst out of the fog, his body shrouded in light. Two bolts bounced off his skin, shattering. Helena cursed and drew her sword as a second rushed them from the fog.
“It’s a rift!” Kimberly shouted. She had read about this spell in one of her grandfather’s books. It was used to transport large numbers of troops across great distance. The rift had been wrapped around the little clearing, giving them nowhere to escape.
The white-cloaks weren’t holding anything back. More men came into the clearing, wearing cloaks of light. Ronnee caught two of them with a heavy swing of his ax, knocking them across the clearing but not hurting them.
A tall man with a beard lunged over Kimberly, his eyes white with anger. Willow cared little for the magic protecting him and a single thrust ended the threat. The next man was faster, sliding a dagger along Kimberly’s ribs.
Her eyes teared up in pain. Willow grabbed at the man with vines, yanking his legs out from underneath him. She swung high and drove Willow deep into the ground, pinning him in place. A third man tackled her to the ground, forcing her arms out.
Kimberly screamed at him and Ip was in his face, biting and clawing. The man fell back, clutching at the ball of fur, but Ip vanished, running underneath his legs as Kimberly decked him.
She heard a man scream. His scream was followed by several others. Shadows were rushing in now, and Trey had turned into a thunderstorm of fury. He was wielding his own magic blade now, a blade that killed with every swing. His movements were beginning to blur and his sword hummed audibly with every strike. In her hands, she could feel Willow begin to resonate.
The fog twisted and Kimberly caught sight of a man with a chalice in one hand, his arms high in the air. She could see his face screwed up in concentration.
“Helena!” She pointed in his direction. Helena drew her crossbows and fired twice. The cup was knocked free by the first bolt and the second pierced the man’s chest. He slumped forward and vanished from view. The fog melted back into the forest, leaving a small group of unprotected men.