Winterskin: A Dark Fantasy (Kindred Souls Book 1)

by C. M. Estopare

  Where the ribbons of light touched her, the woman's gray skin burned. Blackened. Charred to a steaming crisp as the ribbons tightened around her bleak frame. Only her right arm freed itself from the burning turmoil. Fingers splayed. Reaching for her. Red eyes pleading.

  “Ledora...” Seraphina called, her voice a broken croak. “...Jay...my Ledora...”

  Ledora looked on, eyes fixated. Staring at the woman whose territory Ledora had only recently pervaded—when the woman sat as a queen within the soul of her own daughter. Seraphina had been a poison, a demon infecting Katell's soul with a stygian blackness that warped her. That cut her off from the crux of the Power, and allowed the Night Lady to directly siphon it from her. Her own kin. Seraphina had been a leech upon the girl, and now that Ledora had severed Seraphina's tie to Katell—the woman was empty. Broken. Powerless.

  “I believed you could hold your own.” Ledora heard herself speak, felt her feet slog through the snow as if she were wading through a swampy bog with thick green water up to her hips. “I thought you could survive off of the Power from the surrounding forest. From the monsters and the demons you enthralled. I thought you were...”

  “She was my beacon.” Seraphina gasped, talons erupting from the blackened beds of her nails as she swiped a glistening hand through the air. “And you've blinded me—cut me from my guiding light—”

  “I have not killed her.” Ledora hissed, recognition stabbing through her mind like a knife to the back. “I merely cut you off—you weren't supposed to end up like this. You weren't supposed to...”

  “Then why does my heart no longer beat? Why do I feel as if a piece of me has been stolen?”

  Ledora swallowed, backing away from Seraphina's bound body as she slowly shook her head from side to side. Murmuring, “You were to siphon the Power from Baate Noir. You were to entrap monsters and beasts on the border—keeping them from the capital. You didn't need Katell's power to survive! You simply craved it—power from a human in lieu of a disenchanted forest. You wanted her blood, but found that even you—with your insatiable lust for power, for blood—couldn't siphon the lifeblood of your own kin. Your own daughter—,” Ledora's eyes narrowed as she continued to shake her head, “Now, you claim that I have murdered her—now you claim that she has—,”

  Ledora's eyes bulged as she gasped—as she took in a sharp breath with widened eyes.

  Vidonia...

  She felt her mouth open as her jaw went slack. “No. Vidonia would never—,”

  “But she has!” Seraphina wailed, the figure's bonds of light tightening as her wail became a shrill roar. The peal shaking snow from the trees as she planted her forehead in the snow. “She has bound my girl to her. Katell has entered into her service—cutting me off. Enfeebling me...

  “And this...” throwing her free hand behind her, she wheezed a shuddering breath as the golden ribbons sizzled upon her skin, “is what lied in wait.”

  “Vidonia would never...” Ledora murmured again, gaze falling from the woman to the man backed by a bright presence that mimicked the sun.

  Vidonia would never...

  That upstart—that zealous monster.

  Ledora shook her head, realization dawning.

  Of course. Of course she'd force the girl into a Rite.

  Vidonia craved power—like all the others, she craved absolute power. Like Seraphina...like myself and so many others...the other magebanes who gleefully infected themselves with the Blood...

  She craves power. And because of my failure, Baate Noir will suffer. The entire world may suffer.

  Narrowing her eyes, Ledora glared at the presence. Her one good eye ignoring the burning star that engulfed the figure before it. That attempted to blind her with its blazing glory.

  The monsters will be free. Baate Noir will perish.

  Her words came out low. As a guttural growl that frightened even her,“What have you done?”

  THIRTY

  One Day Later...

  Kat sat upon a wing-back chair, pupils dilated. Vision blurred. A dark line ripped across the expanse of her neck, the scar closed. The dark line a testament to her ability. Her ability to work blood.

  She heard a door slam shut. Heard swift heels click across the floorboards of Vidonia's chamber as Anais approached Vidonia. The tall sorceress seated in a similar chair to the right of Kat, elbows planted firmly upon her knees as she watched the girl work to replace the blood lost from her body during an earlier incident.

  Kat fought to twist up her face at the thought—not an earlier incident—she corrected herself, the light-headed feeling ebbing in her foggy mind slowly slithering away—an earlier test.

  “Anais,” Vidonia intoned, interlacing her fingers as her gaze moved from Kat's form, “I see you forgot to knock.”

  Anais heaved a sigh, her blue gown from yesterday replaced with one of purple taffeta. “I have news from the Montbereau intermediary,” she breathed, chest rapidly rising and falling as if she'd sprinted to the councilwoman's chambers. “would you prefer I report now, Councilwoman?”

  Unlike Elisedd, Vidonia had been an informative jailer. The shrewd councilwoman strict in the amount of knowledge she doled out to Katell, but giving nonetheless. Kat already understood the underlying purpose of the Montbereau Chaperon—Archmage Ledora had told her. The Chaperon's purpose was to bring a southern intermediary to meet with the Monarchy's right hand. Vidonia explained that, basically, it was to keep the peace. To make sure the Southern Reaches still sided with the Monarchy of the Rose and didn't plan on becoming an independent nation any time soon. Despite the fact that the Monarchy barely held a presence in the south, it depended upon the powerful hand of the Montbereau demesne to keep the south under the yoke of the Monarchy.

  But the demesne has been steadily gaining a defiant attitude against the Monarchy and its northern colonies, as was the rest of the Southern Reaches. The southerners recklessly becoming bold and wild—out of control of the Monarchy—as they began calling for independence. For a state they could call their own, separate from a Monarchy many were convinced no longer existed past the Poudurac.

  “And if this happens,” Vidonia explained a day earlier, the woman's tone condescending as if she were speaking to a child, “imagine what the northern colonies would do upon hearing that the south has suddenly attained freedom. Imagine what the Free Cities and those living upon the Landbridge would do. The Monarchy would appear weak and ripe for plundering—it would appear unprepared for a long and drawn out war that, honestly, the Rose could never hope to win...” Vidonia grinned wide, her smile like that of a cat as she flashed sharp white teeth, “...not without the help of the Sybil.”

  Kat had made it clear that the Rose did absolutely nothing for the Southern Reaches. It only made sense that her countrymen wanted independence—and would it truly hurt the Monarchy to let go of the south? The Monarchy of the Rose held reign of the Champions, warriors famed for their prowess in monster hunting. And yet, despite employing this fabled guild of monster hunters, the Black Forest still sat untamed and untouched. Was it truly so bad that the south wanted nothing more to do with an authoritative presence that failed to hold its own?

  “The southerners of the Reaches sit like geese in a field of fox dens, the people frightened but unable to flee because their homes are set there. In the midst of a sea of predators.” Kat remarked some hours ago, sweaty palms firmly pressed onto the sleek arms of her chair.

  Kat remembered Vidonia shrugging, a blank look etched upon her porcelain features as she ripped the sharp edge of a stiletto across her own forearm. Dark blood sputtering out like a waterfall. “It is the way of our world.” Vidonia had told Kat as she raised her bleeding arm above a goblet of brazen silver, “If the Monarchy kindly dispatched a Champion every time a southerner breathed, 'witch', they'd leave the capital open and defenseless.

  “And,” the woman smirked, ruby-red lips curling, “as you have seen for yourself, there are things infinitely more terrifying than witches
.” Vidonia hissed, blood streaming into the goblet beneath her injured forearm, “Infinitely more.”

  Vidonia's explanations ended there. When Kat brought up anything else of note, the Monarchy's opinion on the Sonant of Liberation or the Scyllah, Kat was met with harsh silence as the woman ignored her. Vidonia deciding that the interlacing of her gown, or the spread of her skirts were more important than answering Kat's questions. Vidonia told her that she knew enough, and that if she had anymore questions on, “Matters of ill-repute,” she could ask a highscale or any elf.

  “Unfortunately, they avoid humans like the pox. So, luck to you.” the woman chirped.

  Remembering Elisedd and Vidonia's confrontation, Kat brought up the Confrerie. Questions sparked in her mind as to the highscale and the councilwoman's earlier fight. It had seemed...strange. The councilwoman's choice of words were peculiar and confusing. Had Vidonia wanted Labassette destroyed? And what about the south? Was she trying to make Elisedd dispatch the Scyllah towards the Southern Reaches? Kat decided upon asking one question at a time, and a slick mention as to what the Confrerie was slipped her lips.

  “You and Elisedd spoke about a 'Confrerie'...” Kat remembered herself murmuring before she was met with a jarring stare as one of Vidonia's eyebrows rose. The woman's look inquisitive as she took in the breadth of Kat's face.

  “You'd do well to never mention that again.” Vidonia whispered faintly, her smirk carnal as her lips twisted. The cluttered room falling into a still silence as Vidonia fixed her glare upon Kat. Her olive eyes staring, challenging the girl until Kat dropped her gaze. Moving her eyes away, a chill fluttered down her spine as she bit her tongue.

  Had she hit a nerve?

  She resolved to ask Anais about the matter—but the shorter woman was constantly in and out of the chamber. Rushing to this place and that only to come back with arms weighed down with gowns. Beautiful things crafted with silk or patterned cotton, their cuts mystic and modern. Fashionable enough to make Kat's cousins equally jealous.

  Maddy...Eva...

  Kat wondered if she'd ever see the twins again.

  If they even wanted to see her...after watching Jocelyn burn on a stake at her command.

  Kat could still remember the stark smell of skin burning, the girl's flesh melting beneath the acrid lick of red flame. It made her shiver as her blood came rushing back, the sound a jarring roar that deafened her. That made her cling to the sleek arms of her chair as Vidonia drummed her fingers against her crossed knee.

  “What is it?” Vidonia snapped, throwing a frustrated hand to the air. “I—,” pressing a hand to her forehead, she gasped lightly as her brow twisted sharply. “Katell.” the woman barked.

  From the doorway, Anais yelped slightly before she clapped a hand over her gawking mouth and scuttled towards the women on the opposite side of the room. Stepping before the councilwoman, Anais turned and pressed her hands onto Kat's shoulders.

  Doe-eyes were wide, her gaze resembling that of a frightened mouse. “You need to leave.” the shorter woman commanded, the tops of her breasts spilling from her tight bodice as she lifted Kat from her place in the chair and forced her to stand.

  “But the Chaperon—I need to know—,”

  Anais pressed a soft finger to Kat's lips. “I promise to tell you everything, dear. You won't miss a thing—but you need to leave. Just walk down the corridor outside, your room isn't far.”

  Kat stood, frozen. Behind her, the councilwoman wheezed. Vidonia's bated breaths streaming out as pained hisses as the woman held her head of rubicund tresses in her hands.

  “Leave—”

  “Where am I going?” Kat snapped. “What's—what's wrong with—,”

  “Third door on your left.” Anais' words came out in a stream, her tone quick and clipped as she ushered Kat towards the corridor and abruptly slammed the door in her face.

  Stale wind slapped Kat across the face, the air mixing with Vidonia's deep moan. The grim groan long and low as Anais' heels clicked across the floorboards, her movements quick as Kat heard the shorter woman murmur with a warm and honeyed voice.

  What was going on?

  Kat felt the urge to stay. Felt the urge to defy Anais' wishes and listen—she was tired of being kept in the dark. But, while she was shamelessly curious, Kat realized that whatever was going on behind that closed door was—to some effect—none of her business. Whatever was going on with Vidonia was personal—the woman could have some sort of condition she'd like to keep secret from the world. Perhaps, she didn't want to be seen as weak? Kat lowered her head and shook it. Who was she to demand knowledge on every petty little thing? Who was she to stick her nose into the business of others?

  Who was she?

  Third door on your left, Anais had said.

  Kat turned at the sound of another moan, this one melodious and prolonged as it slithered beneath the oaken door of Vidonia's chamber and sailed down the stony corridor. Pulling at the ruffled sleeves of her new gown, Kat found it annoying to slog through a mess of skirts and surcoat tails as she made her way down the corridor. The tiny hairs upon her neck rising at the sounds echoing from Vidonia's chambers. The moans sounded like a mixture between pain and pleasure—pain echoing down the corridor as a moan quickly ebbed into a scream.

  Kat threw a sidelong gaze towards the door—what was going on?

  But she ignored her gnawing curiosity as she found the room Anais had mentioned and brought her hand to the door's handle.

  It opened easily, with a nudge and a push. The room was small. Less gaudy than Vidonia's chambers, but still worthy of awe according to Kat's standards. It was nothing like the little cabin she called home back in Montbereau. Though the room was tiny, it was still spacious with a single bed pushed against a wall of circular stones, a slim bookshelf sitting diagonally in a corner, and a brown vanity etched with otherworldly roses.

  Still, Kat could not concentrate on the beauty of her new space as the moans died down outside. Though the corridor eventually gave itself to a wind sweeping silence, Kat could not put her curiosity to rest. Despite chastising herself for her shameless curiosity—she had to know if Vidonia was well. At the very least—she had to know if the woman had survived whatever had been ailing her.

  That's commendable...right?

  She couldn't shake the feeling that slaking her curiosity was wrong—but she was tired of constantly being in the dark.

  Outside, a door slammed. Vidonia's, Kat assumed, as heels sprinted up the length of the corridor. Kat heard the heels stop—heard the sound hiccup as a heel clumsily missed the floor and clicked against the wall outside.

  Throwing open her door, Kat found Anais leaning against the wall opposite. About a stone's throw away from Kat's new room.

  The girl's skin resembled scrubbed parchment—white and leathery. Silver like a crowded sky.

  Kat opened her mouth, ready to murmur Anais' name until the girl slid along the length of the wall before slumping towards the floor. Her thin body limp as a smear of red appeared upon the wall. Swallowing a cold breath, Kat bolted towards the shorter woman as she fell. Catching her by her back, Kat slid her arms towards the woman's limp legs and lifted her from the floor.

  “Anais?” Kat whispered as she cradled her. “Anais, are you...?”

  Blood rushed to the woman's face as her eyes remained closed. Scarlet bubbled from her throat in a thick gush of red, the blood sticking to Kat's cold hands as she held Anais. Blood dribbled to the floor, the trails of red washing Kat's hands as her eyes widened. Her heart lodging itself into her throat as she tried to swallow. As she tried to push the metallic smell of fresh blood away from her nostrils.

  A whisper of warm air brushed her forehead, her cheeks. It coated her trembling fingers in sweat as a pair of heels clicked towards her.

  Kat froze as hands slid beneath her own and stole Anais from her. Vidonia cradled the girl now. The woman who had been sick—whose wailing voice overtook the corridor and made Kat's hair stand on end.


  Vidonia's color had returned, her features lithe and rich once more as pallid lips smiled. Their ruby color gone. “Gratitude for helping Anais, Katell.” she murmured, “You have my gratitude.” her grin did not meet her eyes as her gaze became soft. The wavering emotion in her eyes contrasting with the flash of her cat-like pupils. “Begone, now.” the woman commanded, her whisper an imposing force that compelled Kat to move. That compelled Kat to return to her own room. “Sleep, Katell. Sleep, and forget this nonsense.”

  Kat's pupils widened as her lips moved to murmur Vidonia's whisper; to repeat Vidonia's command as her entire body stiffened. Her body reacting as her mind flooded with the whispered incantation. With the whispered spell.

  Sleep and forget.

  THIRTY-ONE

  Ice spiked through Kat's veins as she struggled to open her eyes. A presence loomed over her, the specter swathed in shadow as it draped a film of pure cold over her.

  A chill crept up her bare arms like slime, slithering up her limbs as hot beads of sweat broke over her forehead. Twisting her lips, her arms trembled as Kat tried to move them. As Kat tried to press her palms towards whatever was leaning over her—the presence touching her with it's licking tendrils of slime. Bathing her in ice-cold as it slithered up and down her skin.

  She felt like she might vomit as the contents of her stomach lurched and rolled in her belly.

  Sleep and forget.

  Vidonia's voice fluttered in her mind as the presence continued to watch her and feel her. A soft palm swiped sweat from her forehead and Kat's eyes snapped open.

  Anais.

  A rush of cold pins kneaded beneath Kat's skin as she tried to move her lips in an attempt to open her mouth and speak the woman's name. But as Kat struggled, her body going numb—her limbs no longer her own, Anais smiled sweetly in the dim darkness. Red crept from an incision upon the right side of her slender neck as she lowered her face to meet Kat's eyes.