A Gathering of Souls

by Dianne Keep

  Save Khrisk and then herself. Resistance wasn’t helping. Let Osling think he’d won.

  Bree opened her eyes. “I will take you to them.”

  Osling moved as if to touch her shoulder, but an inch away turned and tucked his hand in his pocket. “Keep her chained. Give her some slack.”

  The chains lengthened until she could walk forward. She’d lost the sound of the heartbeats, but Khrisk still pulled her to him. His pain was hers. Within minutes, she was at the mouth of a sinkhole. Shouts rang out as guards came up behind her and rushed into the murky depths. She took a step, but the chains caught.

  Rhion passed her, followed by Osling.

  Ehre’s purple alhor enveloped her. “You shouldn’t have brought them here. With Khrisk this close, you’ll stay.”

  “I can’t let him die.” A cord from her chest tugged. Even if Khrisk were miles away from her, she’d want to be near him. Soon they’d bring him out. Rhion could kill the wolf monsters coming their way.

  Ehre sighed. “I shouldn’t do this.”

  “Do what?”

  With a shaking hand, Ehre traced the necklace on Bree’s throat. “Heavens watch over me. I’m a foolish girl.” Ehre pressed her hand on the amber jewel.

  The plains morphed into snow-capped mountains. A breeze carried scents of pine and alder berries to Bree’s nose.

  A fire crackled.

  Her head rested on someone’s shoulder. She looked up into bright blue eyes. Rain and sunshine filled her nose. He was a beautiful man, the one who shot fireworks from his hands. Envy coiled in her stomach as love saturated his every feature.

  A tight knot unwound around her heart.

  Jir.

  His lips formed two words, my dove. He had loved her.

  Bree gasped.

  Not her.

  Illeya. He loved a girl named Illeya.

  She looked at her hands interlaced in his. Their silver alhors covered the dirt, the trees, and the birds hopping in the branches.

  He laughed and it filled the world. Then the world broke. Tiny pieces everywhere. She stood at the edge of death. Black swirled on a charred plain whispering the cries of thousands.

  The woman with the silver hair came to her, her mother. Hugged her and sighed. “Your father knows what he’s doing. This is the first sight you’ve had of war. Don’t be too hard on him.”

  Grief knocked Bree to the ground. “Stop!” She tore at her hair. “Stop, please. I can’t see anymore.”

  Ehre’s hand moved away from the amber jewel. “They deserve to be remembered.”

  The scent of pine lingered in Bree’s nose. “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”

  The words repeated over and over in her mind. Her breath quickened. Where are you? Illeya, can you hear me?

  “Then you will never be free.” Ehre lifted Bree from the dirt. “Osling is coming up with Bayan and Khrisk. Will you heal them?”

  Rocks cracked against each other. Men shouted above the sound of rushing water. She was at a sinkhole. Khrisk and Bayan were at the bottom. Soldiers climbed out over the top pulling a rope. A whisper touched her ears. Shivers ran up her arms.

  A pair of giant russet wolves leapt on the guards and ripped their heads off.

  Bree shrank back, tripping over a tree root.

  Ehre spoke. A wave of red and purple light formed an orb around the mouth of the sinkhole to protect the Resh and the rest of the soldiers. The wolves howled with rage and scratched at the barrier. “This is your last chance.” Ehre walked to the edge. “Once you see him you won’t leave.”

  She couldn’t leave. The cord between her and Khrisk had strummed. His heartbeat resounded in her ears. Her body ached with his injuries.

  Another set of soldiers hauled a stretcher with Bayan on it from the pit. Scratches covered his head, face, and arms. His right arm dangled at on odd angle. He’d survive, even without her help.

  The next stretcher held Khrisk. Part of his left cheek was gone, showing broken teeth. His nose was smashed, and his forehead dented. Blood covered the tattered clothes covering his crushed body. His heart thudded. Death drew closer.

  Bree trembled as Keir Ryne’s heartbeat joined his son’s in her head. She couldn’t save both. Guards set Khrisk in front of her. She knelt and touched his hair, his crumpled shoulder. He stirred.

  “Quiet. You’ll soon be better.” Bree begged Illeya to come out and heal the man they both loved. Power pulsed under her ribs but didn’t surface.

  The two heartbeats in her head shuddered.

  I choose Khrisk. I choose Khrisk. The power agreed but remained beyond her reach.

  “What are you waiting for? Heal him,” Osling shouted.

  “Your brother will die.” The words escaped her with a sigh.

  Osling howled. The wolves beyond the red-purple barrier joined him.

  Bree closed her eyes. Please, Illeya. Please, help me.

  Her family appeared. I can’t. I can’t. Remembering them brought more suffering to her than anything Osling had done.

  Then Khrisk will die, Illeya said. I want them back. I want us to be free.

  Bree shook. Bree is not us. There will only be you. I will disappear.

  Then there will only be me.

  Steeling herself against the tidal wave of loss, she watched her mother, father, Jir, and the others, Naya and Simon, and Nora and Ky splinter into millions of pieces.

  She had touched their remains, the silver dust. She felt her cheeks and remembered their kisses. Their last words chimed in her ears.

  We love you.

  You aren’t alone.

  Remember your strength.

  Finish your task.

  We’ll see you again.

  No, no, no. Don’t go. Don’t leave me. I need you. I need you. I need you.

  “Stay with me.”

  A gurgled cough sounded outside her thoughts. A person coughing blood.

  Khrisk must live. Goodbye, Bree.

  Illeya opened her eyes.

  Power rushed to her fingertips.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Illeya mended Khrisk’s broken body in less than a second. He blinked. His eyes searched her face. He was like home. He was safe. She stroked the top of his head, her alhor encasing him.

  It was impossible that she loved him, he was so incredibly weak compared to her. But love burst inside her for a fragile non-possessor. He would be dead in a flicker of time compared to her infinite life cycles. She loved Khrisk the way Jir had wanted her to love him before he ascended to the Source, the birthplace of all things in the vast universe. She owed it to Jir to love someone. She just couldn’t believe it was Khrisk.

  Bayan moaned. She sent her power into his body, healing his minor wounds. He sighed in relief but didn’t move from his stretcher.

  The Resh knelt next to his son.

  Wolves paced beyond the protective orb surrounding the sinkhole.

  Part of Illeya couldn’t believe she was in Rysa, and that the stupid non-possessor, Osling had dared to invade Theodel as well as Anthea. She barely believed her father had allowed this mere human to ruin his own nation with thanum and death all these years.

  All of Illeya’s days as Bree flashed in her mind. The memories streamed, including the moment Ehre ambushed her in the Alwire Forest. She touched her shoulder and chest where the poisoned darts had hit. After Tyras had killed so many of them, it was a wonder they had brought her to Stav with just a minor Seyh charm.

  She had believed their lies willingly. Denied her identity to forget the pain of losing her family to ascension and of seeing what her father had done to the Rysan army.

  And the mind games! They’d convinced her she was a dangerous murderer. Attempted to marry her off to Zeir Bayan! Why had they gone to such lengths to keep her identity hidden? She could have helped them sooner. All that time wasted on relics just so Osling could control her and keep her in Rysa on his terms. He wanted to use her to heal his dying, sick people, and act like a battery for the relic
s to overtake the Leoshi continent then the rest of Parsa. He was a power-hungry lunatic.

  She allowed herself a few seconds to feel the rage, then pushed it aside. Anger would not help her.

  Did the people of Rysa understand nothing of the Faewyn? Granted, it had been a couple hundred years since the Faewyn had retreated to the secluded nation of Anthea, leaving the rest of the people on Parsa to fend for themselves. Theodel was a protected nation near Anthea, yet Osling dared to invade them as well.

  Why did her father do nothing when Rysa exhumed the Nexvenes? He must have known. Now it was up to her to save the nations and free the continent from Osling’s control.

  And she was alone.

  Agony washed over her anew with the memories of her family’s ascension. Why had they been recalled to the Source now? Couldn’t they have waited for her?

  Crushing grief nearly pulled her under, but a spark, a tiny thing, flickered and then burned in her center. The Source’s energy pulsed within her, spreading into every part of her that doubted, giving her hope.

  She’d see her family again. She would. Once she finished her task, she’d ascend. And, with any luck, she would be reunited with her family on the planet the Source had reassigned them to.

  Hold on. All you have to do is hold on. Live through today. And tomorrow.

  She had to focus. Jir would tell her to focus if he were here. Plan an escape. Find Copia and Shane.

  Standing, Illeya observed the people.

  Yes, she was a Faewyn. The last one left on the planet Parsa.

  Now to show them.

  She dissolved Rhion’s red chains with a thought. It was her father who had blessed the group of nons with blood magic eons ago, turning them into Seyhs. Tapping into their blood magic wasn’t altogether easy, but not impossible either.

  Keir Ryne’s heartbeat no longer sounded in her head. She’d have to tell Khrisk his father was dead. How do you tell someone that?

  Focus. Figure it out later. You’re in a protective shield with some cracked Seyhs and a deranged ruler.

  Where were Shane and Copia? They could help her. Illeya pressed her hand against her chest, calling her honsworn to return to service. The core of her power pinged, finding its twin inside Shane. He was at the palace with Copia waiting for her to return. He was all right. Copia had figured out a way to keep him from bleeding to death until she could return and heal him.

  It was time to break the news to the Resh that the Faewyn had returned to power on the continent.

  “You’ve created more work for me Osling,” said Illeya. Looking at the Resh, she knew he hadn’t pieced the puzzle together. “My name is Illeya.” She returned her gaze to Khrisk, who had remained on the stretcher. “Illeya of Parsa.”

  He mouthed her name. Tingles shot from her heart to her toes. She was in trouble. Was this how Jir had felt around her?

  “I must return to the palace, but I also need you to come to an understanding of how you will move forward.” She yanked off the amber necklace and Bayan’s honor chain, letting them drop to the ground.

  Her hands shook. Rage still bubbled at her easy capture. She’d been so foolish. The humans she’d sworn to protect had almost trapped her into slavery.

  Illeya continued. “I will cure your people and your land.” She turned to Ehre. Saw horror and hope in the Seyh’s eyes. Ehre needed her freedom too.

  Returning her gaze to Osling, Illeya said, “You will end your attack against Anthea. It is sacred land and your people are not welcome there. Theodel will also be free.” Comprehension dawned on everyone’s faces. The soldiers pointed their rifles at her.

  They wouldn’t. They couldn’t possibly think to shoot her. Had they learned nothing? She was here to help them! Breathing slowly, she concentrated, and the rifles turned into crumpled metal that sifted through their fingers. Sweat gathered on her brow. She couldn’t keep expending energy this way. She couldn’t stay inside Ehre and Rhion’s shield either. Pressing against it with a thought, the wall dissolved. The wolves’ hungry howls blasted the air.

  Ehre gasped, and Osling stepped behind her. The soldiers pulled out knives and arrows, pointing the tips toward the monsters.

  “They won’t come any closer.” Animals, even mutated ones weren’t stupid. Recognition shone in the wolves’ reflective eyes. They knew she was a Faewyn. Their natural instincts told them. The Faewyn had been on Parsa since the beginning when the humans, Lumen, and animals had been young and teachable.

  “I’ll not be disobeyed, Resh Osling,” said Illeya. “You have knowledge of the treaty forged after the Changing. You ignored the boundaries of your domain and have enslaved people and nations that do not belong to you.”

  Osling sputtered.

  “You will free the Seyhs. They cannot belong to anyone. The Faewyn created them, after all.” Illeya summoned the chain of active Hollders into her hand, leaving the dead ones around Ehre’s neck. “Using one to command the others is forbidden. The tribes have their own government. They will need to be reorganized.” The Hollders crumbled in her hands. Ehre and Rhion remained silent.

  “You will free the nations of Feyne, Yenn, Nis, and Urham.” She tried her best to sound like Tyras, her father. He had been unwavering during the invasion, but she would not kill anyone. Peace could be established without more death. “If your people require more than what your land can provide for proper sustenance, you are welcome to call for aid under the treaty’s agreement for free trade. If those nations deny you, then you can appeal to me.”

  A vein popped out on Osling’s forehead. He motioned to Rhion, who attempted to imprison her in a holding orb again.

  She caught the sphere mid-cast and placed it over Rhion. Her breath quickened. She had to be quick. She was outnumbered, and her skills weren’t as developed as they should be. She was the youngest Faewyn, born later than expected. A miracle to her parents.

  “I’ll not be captured by Seyh tricks.” She and Khrisk needed to get to the palace to help Shane. He would be able to figure out this mess. Copia no doubt already had a plan.

  Rhion pounded against the barrier of his own design. The wolves circled. She could let them come and consume the nons, but that wasn’t her way. She was a healer, a life-bringer.

  Khrisk hadn’t stopped staring at her. She could use his help.

  Be like Father. Illeya cleared her throat. “I have recovered from my sorrow and will not be easily dissuaded from performing my duties as the last Faewyn of Parsa.” Her mother’s words repeated in her mind. They are a frail species. It is our duty to help them. She released Rhion. “It should be noted that you captured me in a moment of extreme turmoil that will not occur again during your lifetime.”

  Osling smiled. He pulled a dagger from his waist. “Somehow I don’t believe you.” He threw it, not at her, but at Khrisk.

  The knife hit Khrisk squarely in the chest. He lurched forward. Blood spurted from his lips.

  A tiny pain bloomed in her chest as well. Molten wrath exploded inside her. “How could you?” Her voice thundered like a thousand hurricanes. The wolves whined and dropped to their bellies.

  Metal sliced the back of her thigh. The soldiers shot blades and arrows at her and the wolves. Yelps and shouts ricocheted off the sides of the sinkhole. Ehre and Rhion stood within shielded bubbles, hands behind their backs, a sign of surrender to her authority, for the moment.

  Covering herself in a shield to keep the knives from taking her life, she bent down and wrapped her arms around Khrisk. Life seeped out of him. Now was not the time for talk. Osling was a madman.

  She’d been foolish, so foolish.

  Illeya conjured the image of her tower bedroom in her mind, lowered her shield for an instant, and wished her and Khrisk there.

  Whirling air kissed her cheeks briefly before they were swept to her bed.

  She pulled the knife out of his chest, immediately sealing the broken tissue and telling the blood to return to the veins. She healed the pain in her own chest. />
  Khrisk’s eyes popped open. “Did my uncle just try to kill me?”

  “I believe it was more an attack on me than you.” No one ever assaulted a Faewyn. No one. Yet, the Rysans seemed immune to the Source’s power beating inside her. Her head spun. Maybe the influence of the devourers in their land had made all the Rysans cracked. Maybe they’d always been crazy. She tried to remember what her mother had taught her about this region.

  “You’ve got a knife in your leg,” Khrisk said, motioning to her thigh.

  “Oh.” Illeya pulled it out and sealed the flesh. “Thank you.” A dim pain pulsed from the area. She stretched out her legs. It would fade soon. She wasn’t great at many Faewyn tricks, but she knew how to mend.

  “I don’t think you should thank me.” Khrisk smiled his beautiful crooked smile. “After all, I tried to keep you here against your will.”

  “Your father is dead.” Why had she just blurted that out? He needed to know but she had to be sensitive. “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t save him.” She wanted to hug him, feel his warmth around her and let her warmth infuse him enough to take away the hurt.

  Khrisk rubbed his face. Streaks of dirt and blood smudged his perfect features where his fingers had dragged. “I knew he was dying.” He glanced at her. “He told me his plan when I returned home. He started taking the poison the night before your necklace started to malfunction.”

  “I was with him before I came to find you.” She took the sack off her back and went to the dressing room. “He was very brave sacrificing himself that way.” She stepped behind the door and changed into her old clothes. Everything was there. Illeya’s pants, tunic, and boots, even her double blades. A sob broke through. Her feelings once kept in check poured over her like a tidal wave.

  She touched her neck and looked at her wrist. The necklace and bracelet her father made for her. The concentric circles to remind her of the Source and of her infinite life cycles after ascension.

  Be strong. You can’t fail the people of Parsa. You must prevent the darkens from destroying the world. It was her voice and it wasn’t. More like a melody of voices, her family’s words had become her own. Their faces flooded her vision.