by H. L. Burke
“Clindt?” Arynne rushed to him.
“I’m all right.” He peeled himself from the wall and pulled his hand from his shoulder. Red blood coated his fingers and soaked the fabric of his shirt.
“No, you’re wounded!” Olyn protested.
Ignoring him, Clindt picked up his lantern and rushed down the steps to where the casing of the staircase had arrested his sister’s tumble. He bent over her, and his shoulders slumped. “She’s gone.”
Guilt flooded Arynne’s chest. She couldn’t be sure if it was her strike, Olyn’s strike, or the fall itself that had ended Valka’s life, but perhaps it didn’t matter. Either way, the young woman was dead.
“I’m so sorry, Clindt.” Olyn came to stand over his cousin. “I ... killed your sister.”
“My sister tried to kill me!” Clindt burst to his feet. Agony rippled across his face. “Oh, Mother, what have you gotten us all into?” He ran his hand over his own wounded shoulder, his fingers alight with golden magic. When he withdrew, the cut in his skin had sealed to a fresh scab. “Come on. She didn’t want me down here, and that means this is exactly where we need to be.”
They rushed down the stairs. Arynne kept her magic at the surface, causing her fingertips to glow a vibrant red. Finally they skidded to a halt inside a small chamber. Arynne’s breath abandoned her lungs.
Two bodies lay on the floor: Evyd staring lifelessly up at the ceiling beside another man, lying bound, his head tilted to one side so that she could not see his face. Blood crusted his chest from an ugly wound.
“No,” she whimpered. She stumbled forward, Olyn at her heels. She pushed past Evyd and collapsed beside Kay’s head.
For it was Kay. His dark hair was matted, his face pinched as if still in pain, his skin pale and cold, but he was still achingly, undeniably Kay.
“No, please. Kay, wake up.” She pulled his head into her lap, brushing her fingers through his raven locks. “Please, wake up.”
“We’re too late.” Olyn’s voice cracked as he dropped to his knees beside his brother’s body. “Oh, Kay, forgive me. I failed you.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Pressed against the rough, cold rock, Kay shivered in the darkness. The cries of the dark spirits had faded, leaving only the shrill whistle and haunting howls of the constant wind. Still he hid. His whole being ached, the pain rising from deep within his core, a hollow, gnawing agony that refused to relent.
I’m alone. I’m forgotten. I have no escape.
He searched his brain for memories of those he loved. Arynne’s warmth and passion. Olyn’s patience and understanding. Even Clindt’s unexpected friendship.
Kay had things to hold on for. Things to fight for. He couldn’t give up.
But with the howling wind, the biting cold, and the fierce grasp of despair clamped upon his soul, he couldn’t feel hope. Only darkness. Only fear. Only death.
Stop it! He forced his head up. The ominous clouds had descended from the sky, blanketing the landscape with a pall of dark fog that twisted and churned all around him. I can’t just give up. If Athan has returned to Frorheim, he can’t mean any good for Olyn ... or anyone for that matter.
Fear for his loved ones slammed into him, and he lurched to his feet. He had to find a way to get back to them, or at least send a warning. How much time had passed since he’d been banished here? Minutes? Hours? Moonnotches?
Hugging himself against the bitter chill, he stumbled forward, uncertain where he was going, but knowing he couldn’t stay there.
There has to be a way to get back. Athan was able to torment me when I was safe within the mortal realm. Surely I can get a message to my loved ones who might actually want to hear from me.
“They’ve already forgotten you.”
Kay froze at the hissing words. He spun around but could see only mist.
“Who’s there?” he snapped.
“Give in, boy. You were never wanted where you came from.” The voice seemed to come from every direction at once ... or was it voices? Yes, it was many, a hundred voices speaking as one, their words so in sync that they blended together. “At least here you are hungered for. Let us devour you. Let us take away the misery of an existence that should never have been, of a life wasted, of disappointment and rejection. Accept the rest of nothingness.”
Kay flinched. “I need to exist.”
“What reason do you have for such a need?” The voices broke apart, speaking all at the same time, but tripping over each other like rocks in an avalanche. “Failure ... Never should’ve been born ... a mistake ... a curse ... blight on your family name ... stealer of brides ... you doomed your homeland ... you doomed your loved ones ... they don’t even remember you, and they are better off for it.”
Kay cringed. He threw his hands over his ears. He needed to live, to be remembered, to be loved. He couldn’t let go of that. Not for anything.
But even as he thought it, doubt grabbed him by the throat.
Had he ever done anything truly good? All his attempts to help those he loved, to do right by them, had ended in disaster, and now his very blood had opened the gateway for Athan and his family’s destruction.
I’m a curse.
The words taunted him, but this time in his own voice, in his own head.
A stinging pain burst from his arm, and he gasped. A pin prick hole formed in his shirt, eating down to his skin. He tried to brush it away, but it continued to burrow, burning deeper into his flesh. Black smoke rose from the wound. His head spun.
“Coward! Curse! I should’ve killed you on the moonnotch of your unhappy birth!”
Kay fell to his knees. How was his father speaking? He’d seen the man devoured. No, this wasn’t real. It was a trick ... though he’d heard those words enough from his father to know that they weren’t a lie. Another pain, another smoking wound, this time on his wrist.
“Betrayer! Drunkard! Liar!” The dark spirits continued to taunt him, and with each cry another prick from an invisible source pierced his body. Black smoke poured from him, carrying with it pieces of his essence. He could feel himself fading, weakening, losing his sense of self.
Arynne! He flailed for their heartbond, but couldn’t find it. It was gone. He couldn’t reach her. He was alone.
He curled into a ball, shivering and weeping, waiting for oblivion to take the last of his consciousness and therefore his pain.
Light burst around him, so bright it seared through his eyelids. With a sound like the shattering of glass, the voices were silenced. Warm arms surrounded him, drawing him into an embrace. He pried his eyes open and stared up into the luminous face of a woman not much older than himself. Blue eyes, the color of a frozen mountain lake, gazed down at him, filled with worry but also love.
He’d never seen this face, but somehow he knew it as well as his own flesh, his own voice.
“Mother?” he whispered.
“Oh, my boy,” she breathed, bending to kiss his forehead. “What have they done to you?”
They sat in a bubble of light surrounded by swirling mist. Glinting eyes and roaring faces formed in the fog only to dissolve a moment later. They collided against the glowing barrier but could not get through.
Starcycles of longing surged within him, and he leaned into her, tears spurting from his eyes. “I’m so sorry. I know you’d be alive if it wasn’t for me. I never got to know you, but worse, Olyn lost you, and it was all my fault.”
Pain creased her brow. “Kajik, no.” She slipped her finger beneath his chin and raised his eyes to hers. “What I gave you was given willingly, and if I’d had more to give, I would’ve given it as well.” She rested her cheek against his forehead. She her warmth didn't feel as human flesh did. Instead effervescent heat rose from her, as if her whole being were alive with magic. “In those few cherished moonnotches I held you in my arms, I loved more than I knew to be possible. I’d doubted after your brother’s birth I could love another child as much as I loved him, but when you came, and my heart sw
elled to hold the affection for another as well, I knew the true unquenchability of love.” A tear trickled down her cheek. “I still do, and anything that was asked of me to keep you safe was less than what I was willing to sacrifice.” A sigh slipped from her lips. “I wish I could hold your brother again. I love you both so much.”
Kay clasped his mother’s hand. “How are you here?”
“The barrier between the Field of Stars and the Lingering Dark is weak and allows passage for those souls the Ever has extended his mercy to.” She smiled. “When you were in the mortal realm, I could only watch and pray for you, but here, I have a chance to act. I came to bring you home.”
His heart leaped. He tried to sit up but found his limbs numb and heavy, like stones strapped to his body. “You can get me back to the mortal realm?”
Her lips pursed, and her gaze dropped from his. “I should’ve spoken more carefully. No, I cannot, but I can bring you to the Field of Stars with me.”
He swallowed, hope and fear twisting within him into an unsolvable knot. “So I really am dead?”
“It’s complicated.” She brushed her fingers through his hair. “Your fate was not to end here, Kajik. I am not a seer, but the Field of Stars gives its denizens a view of much that is hidden to mortals. The Ever’s plan is hard to fathom, but I saw great things for you, great deeds which have yet to be accomplished ... a great love of which you’ve only received a taste.”
At her words, the memory of Arynne throbbed within him like a wound gushing blood.
“So I’m not meant to die, but I did?”
“Your soul was ripped from your body by magical, not natural, means.” She scowled. “It should not have been, and because of it your fate has become unstable. You are wavering between life and death.”
“Then I can return to my body?”
“Perhaps, but I don’t know how to help you do that. My reach does not extend to the mortal realm.”
His throat closed in on itself, but he forced out words. “Arynne and Olyn—the whole kingdom for that matter—they are in danger. I need to get to them, to help them!”
“You need to save yourself!” Her hold on him tightened. “Kajik, I can hold back the dark spirits for a short time. If I can lead you into the Field of Stars, you’ll be safe, but here, I can only protect you for so long.” She winced. “I will not see you devoured by those foul creatures. You must come with me.”
Kay’s heart twisted. When facing the threat of annihilation, the comfort of the Field of Stars, of life beyond death, had been his only hope. Now, however, knowing his fate line was meant to continue, that he was destined to be with Arynne, to do something his mother considered ‘great,’ he had something left to fight for before he accepted that rest.
“I can’t abandon the ones I love. With Father gone, Olyn will be facing Athan alone. He doesn’t even know the sorcerer has returned yet. He won’t be ready. I can’t abandon him to that, Mother.”
A faint smile crossed her face. “My precious boy has grown into a brave man.” She ran her hand down his cheek. “I cannot save you, though. You need someone with a connection both to you and to the mortal realm.”
Arynne.
He searched for the heartbond again, but found nothing. They were too far apart, separated by too much. His soul ached for her.
“I can’t reach her,” he whispered.
“She needs to reach for you. If she is to draw you to her, she must be the one to initiate the bond.” His mother tilted her head. “You do love her deeply. I can see it in your eyes. Tell me, who is this girl who has captivated my son?”
“She’s strong, passionate ... perfect.” A smile quirked his lips as he remembered her fire. “She saw value in me when I’d forgotten how to see it in myself. If something happens to her because I wasn’t there to protect her, I wouldn’t be able to bear it.”
A gust of wind howled around them, and the barrier of light trembled.
His mother’s brow furrowed. “I hope she hurries, my love. We don’t have much time.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
All feeling left Arynne’s chest as she pressed her hand against Kay’s neck. This couldn’t be real. He couldn’t truly be gone. “Kay,” she begged. “Wake up.”
“I don’t understand.” Clindt stooped over Evyd’s lifeless form. “They were trying to kill Kajik, so why is Uncle Evyd dead? Where’s my mother?”
“Forget that!” Olyn snapped. “Can you help Kay?”
Pain creased Clindt’s face, but he knelt beside them. “What did they do?” He hovered his hands over Kay’s chest. “So much dark magic. It’s encrusting him.”
Olyn and Arynne watched him, every bit of Arynne quivering with hope and fear.
Clindt’s jaw dropped. “Oh, Ever, no.” He stood and jumped back, his gaze flicking across the sheet beneath Kay, the dark marks, the foul looking crystals. “Olyn ... I think they—” His mouth clamped shut.
“What?” Arynne scowled, her fear swiftly turning to anger. “Tell me!”
“Clindt?” Olyn’s tone hardened.
“I know why I was so panicked. This is a soul sacrifice ritual. It’s designed to pull a person’s soul into the Lingering Dark in exchange for power from the evil spirits that dwell there.”
Arynne’s hands shook, and she gripped Kay’s hair. “And what happens to the victim?”
“He’s devoured—destroyed.”
Olyn collapsed, burying his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking.
Arynne continued to stare, unable to comprehend Clindt’s words. “What do you mean, destroyed?”
“I mean, they will draw him in and tear him apart until nothing remains, heart, mind, soul ...”
“But we can get him back?” Arynne stammered. “We can save him. He ... he ... We have to save him!”
Clindt hung his head. “I can’t find any life. His colors are extinguished. Arynne, Olyn, I’m sorry, but he’s gone.”
Her heart cracked, and she tightened her hold on Kay’s body.
Olyn raised a tear-stained face and brushed his hand across his brother’s cheek. “He deserved so much better. Oh, Father, what have you done?”
Clindt bit his bottom lip. “I can see the erasure spell. If I remove it, it won’t bring him back, but at least he’ll be remembered.” He closed his eyes, and again his hands glowed with a calming light. It shone over the wound on Kay’s chest, closing it and cleansing it until all that remained was untainted skin.
Olyn unfastened the manacles binding Kay’s wrists to the iron bar then untied his brother’s ankles. “I know it doesn’t do him any good, but I don’t like seeing him like—” He choked on the words. “I wanted to protect him. I would’ve given anything to stop this. I’m so, so sorry.”
Arynne straightened Kay’s tangled hair with her fingers, another futile gesture. She should’ve been faster. She shouldn’t have left him alone. She should’ve killed Evyd before he had a chance to do this—but she hadn’t, and she’d lost him.
She’d lost him.
“I love you, Kay,” she breathed. “I will always love you. You won’t be forgotten. I could never forget you.” She brought her lips to his, only to feel an itch at the back of her mind, a weak prickle of magic with an undeniable trace of Kay. She froze.
The heartbond? But how?
She focused on it, drawing it forward. Yes, it was definitely Kay. His magic sparked weakly, like a distant star twinkling in the black sky. She pressed her hand against his neck again. Still no pulse.
She had to be imagining it. Wishful thinking?
But what if it wasn’t?
Holding her breath, she laid her head on his chest.
Olyn put his hand on her shoulder. “Arynne, we can’t stay here. If my father is dead—”
“Shush!” she ordered. She closed her eyes and concentrated on Kay. No heartbeat, but with her body so close to his, the magic swirled to life. It called to her, a thread leading into darkness. Eyes snapping open, she leaped up. “H
e’s not gone!”
Both men blinked at her. They exchanged a glance. Clindt shook his head, and pity flooded Olyn’s face.
He stood to face her. “Arynne, I would do anything to believe that’s the case, but we can’t—”
“I can feel him, Olyn!” Arynne protested. “The heartbond is still active. How could that be if he were truly dead?”
Clindt’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”
“She can’t, though—” Olyn hands clenched and unclenched. “Can she?”
“I’m not sure. There are few magics stronger than a heartbond, but at the same time, gone is gone ... but death should’ve ended it. If he’s truly destroyed beyond redemption, she wouldn’t feel anything.” Clindt placed his hand on the top of Arynne’s head, his eyes narrowing. “Your colors are branching out, as if they are being pulled away from you, but I cannot see where. They fade ... Arynne, can you reach him?”
Olyn’s chest rose and fell in quick breaths. “Can you?”
Arynne’s stomach twisted. What if she couldn’t? “I will try.”
Closing her eyes again, she traced the heartbond. It was painfully frail, like a spiderweb that could only be seen if the light hit it just right. She poured her magic into it. Her crimson power twined around the pale silver strand, brightening it. It began to glow a little stronger. An undeniable pull, like a magnet to her heart, drew her forward, and with a gasp, she realized she could no longer feel her body.
Startled, she shrank back. She blinked.
Clindt grasped her shoulder. “Easy! Your light flickered for a moment.” He let out a long breath. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea. There’s a chance instead of drawing him back, the connection could draw you in. We could lose both of you.”
Olyn’s jaw clenched. “Kay wouldn’t want that, Arynne.”
Rage flashed in Arynne’s breast. “Kay’s not here—Yet.”
Not giving herself a chance to doubt, she threw herself into the heartbond. Her magic gushed forward like flame taking to dry grass. The ground dropped out from under her. Darkness welled up around her. Olyn shouted for her, his voice echoing faintly in the distance.