The Gifted Heart (Marks of Inheritance: The Orkeia Cycle #1)

1. Where the Dead Rest

Chapter one

Where the Dead Rest

B odies of Orkeian knights scattered the rocky beach all around me. My eyes darted across the carnage in horror before landing on the stone shelter built into the cliffs. No visible movement came from inside my clan’s home. I sprinted forward and stumbled through the open door, tripping over something on the ground.

My bag fell to my side as I collapsed. I cried out, realizing that the thing I’d tripped over was a knight’s arm. Beneath me, the ground was stained red with blood, but it didn't stain my dress and hands. It was already dry. My stomach twisted in knots as I looked up.

They were all dead.

A sob escaped my throat. No, no, no…

Through my tears, I stared at the faces of my clan members. Logan, Greta, Elizabeth—

Not Elizabeth…

Her gray hair was stained red from the massacre, and her eyes stared blankly into the stars through the fallen ceiling. I crawled over the bodies separating us and took her lifeless form in my shaking arms.

A seal barked on the beach, the only sound to break the silence other than my choked sobs. Elizabeth was the Mother of our clan. More than that, she had raised me for the past seventeen years, ever since I was left on the beach as a baby—the same beach that was now littered with the bodies of our enemies.

I buried my face in her cold, stiff shoulder. She’d been dead at least a day. A whole day .

And I hadn’t been here.

I don’t know how long I stayed in that position. It felt like hours. But eventually, I took a deep breath and looked up once more.

Everything was gone. Our cauldrons, candles, talismans, even our cooking pots. The knights had destroyed all that they could, not content with murdering my family. What was once a home was now a burial chamber—four thick, crumbling stone walls surrounding this massacre. The rest of the world wouldn’t even notice their deaths. All we’d had was each other.

Now, I was alone.

I lowered Elizabeth gently to the ground, my sobs still coming in spurts. I had nothing left.

Except for my candles…

Numbly, I reached for my bag and emptied the contents onto the dirt floor. The salt crystals shattered and I gasped, but my concern was short-lived. The supplies I’d gathered for Greta and the other green witches no longer mattered. Brushing the shards aside, I took my fourteen summoning candles from the pile, setting them up in a circle on the ground.

Elizabeth helped me make my candles when she first started teaching me how to use my powers. I hadn’t planned on bringing them when I left for the gathering trip—they just took up extra space—but Elizabeth had insisted. It was like she had known what was going to happen, and that if they had been left here, they would have been destroyed with everything else. And it was my only comfort to know that since they weren’t, I would be able to see her again.

I still had a lot to learn as a white witch, so it took a moment of closing my eyes and muttering what I remembered from Elizabeth’s lessons to be sure I placed them correctly. She had usually been the one to place them for me. Once I felt sure they were in the right places, I stood in the center and traced a pentagram against my chest, chanting the Sacred Words of Passage. The candles lit magically, illuminating the massacre around me. I raised my eyes upward.

“Do you desire to visit the Saved or the Lost?” came a whisper in my mind.

“The Saved,” I breathed.

A swift breeze extinguished the candles. My spirit left my body with a familiar, light sensation, traveling upwards until I could see the golden gates of the Land of the Saved. Translucent beings crowded in the light around the gates, waiting for them to open for the day. I slowly made my way across the clouded ground, scanning the crowd for familiar faces.

Eventually, I heard a familiar musical laugh echoing through the air. My lips quivered when I saw Elizabeth’s spirit near the gates. I also recognized Greta and her husband, Logan, who had been our Father green witch and sent me out gathering. Logan noticed my approach and nodded in my direction, causing Elizabeth to spin around. Her lips split into a smile, and she ran gracefully to my side, the crowd of spirits parting politely for her. Her characteristic laugh lines were gone, and her gray hair was now a brilliant blonde.

“Kenna,” she said, beaming.

I instantly wanted to embrace her and clenched my fists together to hold back the impulse. Even though I was in spirit form, I could not physically interact with any of the spirits who had passed on. It made seeing her again bittersweet.

“I am so glad we picked you as our gatherer this week!” She clasped her hands as she so often did.

I struggled to find my voice. “Did you know?” I whispered.

“Know what, My Heart?”

The tender nickname caused the knot in my throat to double in size. “Did you know they were coming? You—you didn’t want me to go, and then you just changed your mind out of the blue, did you—?”

“No,” she said gently, her eyes softening with understanding. “But I’m glad I changed my mind when I did. Otherwise you would be here with us. Now, you can find a new home. ”

“How could I find a new home?” I croaked. “With you gone, and the knights everywhere…”

She frowned. “You can’t think that way. This is only the beginning for you. You will find a new family, I’m sure of it. Maybe even a clan with members closer to your age.”

I shook my head. Being the only child in our clan had never bothered me. Elizabeth always lamented that I was alone, but I had never felt alone until this moment.

As if reading my thoughts, she gave a small, encouraging smile. “It will be good for you,” she insisted. “You’ll discover parts of yourself you didn’t even know were there. Be comforted that all of us are here and accounted for.”

I gazed towards the golden gates before me, seeing more familiar faces waiting to enter along with Logan and Greta. They were all smiling and content. As I watched, Logan ran towards the gates to greet a spirit on the other side, and with a shock I recognized Alan—his brother who had been the first of our clan killed when all of this started five years ago. They were overjoyed to see each other again, and eager for the gates to finally open.

As grief-stricken as I was, the sight did bring a small amount of comfort. The king of Orkeia and his knights believed that all of the Gifted were destined for the Land of the Lost, that anyone who could use magic would do so for evil. But these people—my family—had always used their powers for good. And now, Logan and Alan—and so many others—would be reunited.

My fists slowly opened. “I’m glad to know that, but how did they find you? Did they take you by surprise? Could I have helped?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “There’s nothing you could have done against an entire army, Kenna."

I turned my face away. I knew I hadn't gained enough experience to be a true asset to any clan, but there must have been something I could have done.

“Not because you aren’t capable of fighting,” Elizabeth continued in her motherly voice, “but because it was the Giftgiver’s will that we meet Him. ”

“But why would the Giftgiver allow the king to do this?” I said, keeping my voice low as I threw a glance at the bright gates in front of me. “Why wouldn’t He stop him? Doesn’t the king need to be stopped?”

Elizabeth sighed. “He is wiser than we are, and He knows the minds and hearts of His children,” she said, repeating the mantra I’d so often heard.

“But certainly the king—”

“That’s enough,” she said kindly.

Just then, the gates opened behind her, revealing the city beyond. The golden buildings almost looked like they were floating on clouds but somehow had blooming gardens growing in front of them. Numberless angels made their way through the iridescent streets, some of them approaching the gates to greet the new arrivals with bright, welcoming smiles. The Giftgiver’s House towered above it all with splendid golden arches that sparkled and shone in the sunlight almost as if they were studded with diamonds.

It was breathtaking.

Logan and Greta rushed inside, and the brothers embraced. They held each other so tightly I was sure they’d never let go.

Elizabeth’s smile brightened with excitement as the crowd began to move forward, and she turned to join them. I could only watch longingly, knowing that if I followed her, I would forfeit my own life. Once a spirit passes through the gates, it can no longer return to Earth.

“Do you really have to go?” I whispered.

I already knew the answer, but that didn’t stop me from asking.

“There is work for me to do here,” she said matter-of-factly. Her smile was wider than I’d ever seen it. “And people that I miss. It’s time for me to move on to the next stage of life.”

I bit my lip. “I want to go with you.”

Elizabeth’s face hardened. “No. There is work that you still have to do in mortality, or you would have been taken with us. Don’t throw away the life you have yet to live. ”

I sighed and looked down. I’d learned a long time ago to trust Elizabeth’s words. She reached out as if to touch my brown hair before she too sighed. As hopeful and wise as she was, I knew this was hard for her as well.

“I hope you’ll visit…but don’t waste your life waiting outside these gates longing for the dead,” she said gently. “Your place is with the living, My Heart. The Giftgiver has great things in store for you, I am sure of it.”

I nodded, the lump in my throat too hard for me to speak through. My legs felt like stone, but somehow I willed myself to step back. Elizabeth joined Alan, Logan, Greta, and the rest of my family. I wanted to speak to them each in turn, but I knew the longer I stayed here the more tempted I would be to enter the gates. They waved, smiles all around. I tried to smile back but couldn’t force my face to make the necessary changes. Instead, I stared after them, watching their spirits brighten with a celestial glow.

I forced myself to close my eyes. The first time I attempted communication beyond the mortal world, I was unable to return for hours. When I asked Elizabeth why I had so much trouble, she explained that if I thought of nothing but returning, the transition would be much more difficult. I needed to relax and think about what I would do next after I returned.

This time, my spirit returned to my body quickly. My mind was made up. Finding a clan to live with temporarily was the wisest thing to do, but all I could think about was the man who caused my family’s murder.

Someone had to stop the king. And somehow, I was going to be the one to do it.

***

I walked into the night and away from what was left of my home. My father brought me to the beach when I was less than a year old and asked Elizabeth to take care of me. I used to wonder if my parents simply hadn’t loved me or if they’d tried to give me a better life among the Gifted. But now, their reasons didn’t matter. I was leaving behind the bodies of the only family I had ever know n

I wanted to march straight to the castle and get revenge, but facing the king would have to wait. I didn’t have the slightest idea where to begin in my quest or even how to get to the capital city, and if I attempted to barge into the castle, there was no chance I would survive long enough to speak a single word. Elizabeth was right—I needed to find a new clan, at least temporarily.

But that was easier said than done. I traveled across the hilly, cliff-lined island for days without meeting a soul. I shouldn’t have been too surprised—clans stayed hidden and kept their groups small to avoid detection. All I could do was keep walking and hope luck was on my side.

The cold season was approaching, making the nights particularly difficult with the lack of trees or natural shelter, and my bread and small supply of fruit was almost gone. When I saw a herd of wild goats after four days, I felt some hope, thinking I might be able to catch one. But they were much too quick for me.

On the sixth day, I spotted a village, but I wasn’t comfortable trying to get food there. What if I gave myself away? After all, I didn’t know anything about their culture or customs. Would they see through my ruse and report me to the knights?

Most Gifted wouldn’t even be able to consider going into the village as an option due to their marks. Every witch or sorcerer has one, usually on their shoulder or neck. Every mark is unique: a green witch might have one that looks like some sort of flower or other plant, while a white witch’s could be a human silhouette, a wisp of smoke, or a spiral. Sorcerers vary the most—although they can learn all types of magic, each sorcerer has a defining power that is their strongest ability or skill. This is usually manifested in their mark, such as a flame for fire magic.

Gifted societies used to be able to explain these away as peculiar birthmarks, but the knights discovered the linking thread four years ago when the king officially declared war against magic. It became almost impossible for us to blend in.

I, however, am an enigma. My mark is the shape of a heart, which is where Elizabeth got my nickname. No one in our clan had heard of a white witch having that mark before, and at first they weren’t even sure what my powers were. It was only when I saw my first spirit that Greta theorized the heart represented a human soul.

Stranger still, my mark isn’t on my neck or shoulder—it’s on my thigh. Theoretically, I could go to the village for food as long as I didn’t use my magic in public. The knights couldn’t prove I was Gifted without seeing my mark, and there was no reason they would ever see it. But if I drew too much attention, I was sure that wouldn’t matter.

Knowing Elizabeth had once lived in Ungifted society, I decided to seek her advice. I made the transition into the Other Worlds and traveled upward to the Land of the Saved, but she was still within the city when I arrived. Sighing, I walked up to the gates and asked a man on the other side if he could look for her, but I knew the chances were slim. Spirits only exit occasionally to greet those joining them or meet with white witches, and I hadn’t told Elizabeth when to expect me. After waiting for a little less than an hour, I returned to my body, discouraged.

When I opened my eyes, I was no longer alone.

A boy about my age sat a few feet away, staring—intrigued—at my face. I let out a startled gasp, putting up my hands in a pitiful attempt at defense. He quickly jumped up, a little startled himself, and stumbled backward as he brushed off the dirt on his pants.

“I’m sorry, Sister,” he stammered. “You seem lost, I thought maybe I could help you…”

My breathing started to calm. Though I knew I should still be cautious, against my better judgment, I stared as intently at him as he had at me. His clothes were simple, but he had a strong body underneath. His hair was golden as a sunset, almost as if it was stealing all light from around him. My eyes met his and I subtly caught my breath. They were a striking sky blue, the type of blue one never sees but only imagines.

He took a step forward into my summoning circle, and I felt the spell around me break. Coming back to my senses, I scrambled to pack up my supplies. My heart raced with adrenaline and I was keenly aware of his gaze on my back .

“My name is Gideon Grison,” he said. “My father is the Father of our clan. He saw you while on lookout yesterday and sent me to ask if you needed shelter.”

Pausing, I looked back at him. He ran his hand through his sunset hair and shifted the weight on his feet. I was unsure how to respond. If this was an act to lure me to the knights, it was an exceptionally good one. But something told me that he was being sincere.

I tentatively reached out my hand. “My name’s Kenna.”

His shoulders relaxed and he shook my hand. His grip was firm, yet not forceful. He glanced at the candles on the ground. “You’re a white witch?”

“Yes. You?”

“A sorcerer,” he replied, then asked gently, “Is anyone else with you?”

I shook my head, looking down at the grass.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said reverently. Without asking, he knelt and began rolling up my sleeping mat. “Is there anything left to retrieve from your camp?”

“Unfortunately, no,” I responded, kneeling next to him. We fell into silence as he forced my mat into my bag and I gathered the candles on my left. Once he finished, he helped me pick up the rest of them. I reached for the last one just as he did, quickly drawing my hand back as his brushed mine.

“Sorry,” he muttered, withdrawing his hand.

I found myself momentarily staring at him again. I had never been around a boy my age before, and I felt a strange rush of heat to my neck and cheeks. Feeling suddenly awkward, I tore my gaze away and tied off my bag of candles. But when I reached for my pack, Gideon had already stood and hoisted it over his back.

My cheeks burned even hotter. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t want you to carry this all the way to camp.”

“I’ve carried it myself for the past week and I’ve been fine,” I insisted.

“I just want to help,” he shrugged. “But I understand if you don’t trust a stranger with your things.”

“It’s not that, it’s just—”

I couldn’t think of how to finish the sentence. After a moment, I sighed and relented. “Thank you,” I said, motioning that he should lead the way. With a smile, he reached his free hand toward me, palm outstretched, to help me to my feet. I hesitated for a moment before taking it, my fingers tingling in the brief moment our skin touched once more.

“If we move fast we’ll make it there before nightfall,” he said.