Twin Soul Series Omnibus 2: Books 6-10

by McCaffrey-Winner

  “I could help with that,” Hana said.

  “And I,” Wymarc added, glancing toward the dark-eyed girl, “can snatch you if need be.”

  “That’ll leave you four,” Ford said, pointing to Annabelle, Angus, Reedis, and Nestor in turn, “to deal with her.”

  “You can’t deal with her,” Ophidian said testily. “You have to find a soul mate for her.”

  “And if we can’t?” Ford asked the god directly.

  “I will not destroy her,” Ophidian declared, shaking his head slowly.

  “If she freezes the sea, she will destroy every human and twin soul,” Arolan said from behind Richard’s shoulder. Richard tensed but forced himself not to turn at the surprise arrival of the sea god.

  “If need be, I will help,” Sybil spoke up from beside Annabelle. “Father has spoken with Hansa and said that that much we can do.”

  “And your father?” Wymarc asked. She heard Ophidian’s hiss and turned to him. “I’m sorry, father, but it must be asked.”

  “My father cannot act until the time is right,” Sybil said. “Nor can Bryan.”

  Richard rose from his seat, moving to the side and turning to Arolan. “I will do whatever is needed to keep my oath.”

  “I’d prefer if you did it without dying,” Arolan told him. “I’m told that I have far too few followers as is.”

  “Isn’t a death always required when a twin soul is mated?” Annabelle asked, looking to Krea Wymarc for an answer.

  “Not always,” Nestor spoke up, surprising everyone who turned their gaze toward the young royal. Nestor flushed and took a breath before continuing, “As far as I can tell, there have been four times in the past five hundred years when death was not required.”

  “Four?” Reedis said, impressed.

  “And how many others?” Angus asked the prince.

  “All the others,” Nestor said in a small voice. Angus bent his head demandingly. “About two hundred or so.”

  “What happened those four times?” Annabelle wondered.

  “Three of them involved life-threatening wounds,” Nestor said with a grimace. His expression changed as he added, “The fourth involved a red rose.”

  “We’ll bring a dozen roses then,” Arolan said, clapping Ford on the back.

  “And wyvern’s flowers,” Ford added, nodding toward Krea Wymarc. The twin-souled pair nodded in response. “If nothing else, the scent of them and me should bring the serpent more quickly.”

  “Add the roses,” Reedis implored. Ford smiled at him and nodded.

  “It does seem to be a plan a trifle short on specifics,” Annabelle said. “We use the captain as bait and then hope for the best.”

  “I’ll bring the hatpin,” Angus said.

  “To use on who?” Wymarc asked him. Angus had no answer for that.

  “Where did Ophidian go?” Nestor said, glancing around the room.

  “And Arolan?” Annabelle added.

  “All the gods are gone,” Angus said. The others looked at him and he shrugged. “It’s something I know now.”

  “A very useful gift, if it works when they don’t want you to see them,” Wymarc said. She yawned and had Krea’s body stretch suggestively. “We should get our rest while we can.”

  “May I escort you?” Nestor said, rising from his chair and proffering an arm gallantly.

  Krea Wymarc shook her head. “No, I think I need to be alone.”

  Nestor tried to hide his dismay. Krea patted him on the arm, saying, “It’s been a long day and we’re very tired.”

  Nestor gave her a jerky nod and sat back down at the table, pulling a book toward himself.

  “Richard?” Reedis said. When Ford looked up, Reedis jerked his head toward the doors. “A word, if I may?”

  Ford gave the mage a surprised look but, nodding a good evening to the others, rose and followed the mage outside.

  #

  “What is it?” Ford asked when the doors were firmly closed behind him.

  Reedis held up a hand, begging for indulgence. “Follow me, please.”

  Ford followed, his curiosity piqued. Reedis led him to the large study where he, Angus, and Annabelle had perfected their lifting magic. When they were inside, Reedis gestured for Ford to take a seat and took one himself facing the captain at an angle.

  “You may die tomorrow,” Reedis said without preamble. Ford pursed his lips and nodded slowly. Reedis gave him a quizzical look. “That doesn’t trouble you?”

  “I’ve faced death many times,” Ford said with a shrug. “It hasn’t come to me yet.”

  “The serpent attacked your ship,” Reedis began. Ford nodded. “And Arolan saved you.” Again, the captain nodded. Reedis frowned. “But that was two hundred years ago.”

  “More, actually,” Ford said pensively. “I think about two hundred and twenty, maybe two hundred and thirty.”

  “You’re surprisingly well-preserved!” Reedis exclaimed.

  “No,” Ford said. Reedis’ brows rose questioningly. “How old do you think I am?”

  “Late thirties, maybe early forties,” Reedis said.

  “Yes,” Ford said, “something like that.”

  “So you’re not two hundred... two hundred and twenty years old.”

  Ford shook his head and the mage spluttered in exacerbation.

  “I’m tied to the tide,” Ford said slowly. “I think Arolan must have made some deal with the moon.” He paused a moment, then continued, “I grow old like all men.” He waited to see Reedis’ reaction but the mage merely gestured for him to continue. “When I am too old, the sea calls me.”

  “The sea?”

  “Yes,” Ford said. “It calls me when the tide is out. I have to go into it, into the water —”

  “No matter where? No matter when?” Reedis demanded. Ford nodded. “Even in winter?” Again, the captain nodded.

  “I go out all the way and swim into the surf,” Ford said. “And then, when I’m under the water, I die.”

  “Die?”

  “I can feel myself becoming undone,” Ford said. “It hurts but it doesn’t last.”

  “And then what?”

  “I come back with the new tide,” Ford said. “I come back as a young boy, usually five or six years old.”

  “Do you remember everything that happened before?”

  Ford shook his head. “Bits, things that seemed important or particularly poignant,” he said, his eyes bright with sorrow. “I forget a lot.”

  “Do you have children, Richard?” Reedis asked in a low voice.

  “If I do, I don’t remember them,” Ford said. He shrugged. “Sometimes, sometimes I meet someone and I think I know them, might have been their parent or grandparent in lives past.”

  “Or great-grandparent,” Reedis muttered. He shook his head. “This gift of Arolan’s is a mixed blessing.”

  Ford’s lips twisted ironically. “Don’t they always say: ‘Be careful what you ask the gods! They might listen.’”

  “Do you want to die?” Reedis asked.

  Ford shook his head. “Never. Every time, I held off as long as I could.” He met Reedis’ eyes. “But I am sworn. And I will not lose the world.”

  “If you die, you will,” Reedis said.

  Ford shook his head. “If I die, I will meet Terric and his son, and go on to a new life.”

  “If you die,” Reedis said vehemently, “I shall be most peeved.”

  “I’ll bear that in mind, purple mage,” Ford said, rising from his chair. He stretched and turned back. “And with that said, I’ll bid you a good night.”

  Reedis snorted in displeasure. He sat in silence for a long time. And then, with a cry of exaltation, he jumped from his chair and moved to the large table, dragging paper and pencil to hand.

  #

&n
bsp; “Why are you still awake?” Annabelle asked as she entered the library late that night. Nestor was slumped in a chair, a pile of books surrounding him.

  “Why are you?” Nestor replied.

  “Couldn’t sleep,” Annabelle admitted.

  Nestor nodded. “Much the same.”

  “Did you find anything interesting?”

  “I found three different ways to put my arm to sleep and two different ways to crick my neck,” Nestor said sourly. “Besides that, I am no more enlightened than I was earlier.”

  “I see,” Annabelle said, skirting the table and heading to the back part of the library where the fire had been set.

  “Are you looking for anything in particular?”

  “I realized that we hadn’t spent any time examining her spell,” Annabelle said abstractedly.

  “How will that help?”

  “I don’t know if it will help tomorrow,” Annabelle said. “But I plan on finding this person and I want every advantage I can get.”

  “Good idea,” Nestor said, stretching and yawning. He rose and walked back to her. “Is there any way I can help?”

  “I don’t think so,” Annabelle said, shaking her head. She gestured toward the table. “You should go back to work.”

  “Very well,” Nestor said and turned but stopped mid-stride and turned back again, eyes bright.

  “What?”

  “I was wondering, would you know how to make a love potion?”

  “A love potion!” Annabelle spluttered in outrage and raised her balled fists at him. “Do you plan on ensnaring some poor girl —” and she thought of Hana “— with your charms?”

  “No,” Nestor said, raising his hands defensively, “I was thinking of the serpent.”

  Annabelle’s eyes went very wide. Slowly, she nodded. “I think that’s a very good idea, my prince.”

  Chapter Eight

  “It was Nestor’s idea,” Annabelle said when everyone praised her the next morning at breakfast.

  “It’s a very good idea!” Reedis said, turning to nod firmly at the blushing prince.

  “Well done,” Ford added, clapping Nestor on the back.

  “The only question is who to put it on,” Angus said grimly.

  “Don’t put it on me!” Krea Wymarc declared firmly. Beside her, Hana shook her head in agreement.

  “Nor me,” Ford said firmly. The others looked at him. “I can’t be bait and lover both.”

  “Why not?” Annabelle asked him sardonically. “It worked in the past, didn’t it?”

  Richard gave her a look.

  “Anyway, we can’t put it on everyone or the affect will diminish,” Annabelle said.

  “So we see what transpires,” Ford said. “See what works best at the time.”

  “Everyone should carry some, in that case,” Reedis declared. The others nodded in agreement.

  Annabelle frowned at them for a long moment. She turned to Nestor and passed him a small vial, “This is made for the serpent only.”

  “I understand,” Nestor told her with a curt nod. “That’s what we wanted.”

  Annabelle snorted and shot a glance toward Hana but Nestor merely shook his head in response.

  “If you are all done with your games,” Ophidian spoke up, appearing suddenly at one corner. Wymarc noticed the odd smile on Angus’ lips: the smith had known of the god’s arrival.

  “We’ll start playing yours, father,” Wymarc said.

  “Daughter,” the dragon god said in a dangerous tone. Wymarc gave him a quick nod, even as she comforted Krea’s inward anguished cry. He needs us, Wymarc assured her. She could feel Krea’s alarmed gulp and then felt the young woman calm herself. He also needs to remember his place.

  He’s a god! Krea said. Wymarc said nothing in reply.

  “Arolan?” Ford called politely.

  “Here,” the sea god said, appearing at Ford’s side. He glanced to the others. “Are you ready?”

  “We should go to the cloakroom and get dressed for the weather,” Nestor said. He didn’t quite meet the sea god’s eyes when he said, “Shall we meet you outside?”

  Arolan disappeared. So did Ophidian.

  “We should make our way,” Reedis said to the others.

  “A moment,” Ford said, raising a hand. He moved to the kitchen counter in the dining hall. “Sybil?”

  “Yes, dear?” the goddess appeared, wearing an apron and wiping sweat from her brow. “What is it?”

  “I wanted to thank you for all that you have done,” Ford said.

  “Oh! Well, very well,” Sybil said, reaching across the counter to shake his hand. “It really was my pleasure. I rarely get a chance to cook for so many for so long.”

  Ford nodded and smiled at her. He moved away, first in a sudden line of others. He turned back to their table and said, “Avice, Terric! I wish to thank you for your hospitality.”

  “Our pleasure,” Avice said, suddenly appearing in front of him. Impulsively she hugged him. Terric nodded at him mutely.

  When the rest were done with their farewells, they marched down to the cloakroom and wrapped themselves in warm winter gear before strapping into their balloon harnesses — all except for Krea Wymarc and Hana who had their own means of flying.

  “I want you to stick close to Ford,” Reedis said in a worried tone to Hana as they turned to leave. Hana turned to look at him. “He might try something stupid.”

  “We all might,” Ford said drolly, proving that the mage had not been as quiet as he’d hoped. He clapped Reedis on the shoulder. “I’ll do my best.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  #

  “Where first?” Ophidian asked when he met the others outside of the House of Life and Death.

  “I think the shore, nearest the ocean,” Ford said, pulling out his scroll and unrolling it to point at the lines they’d drawn for the serpent’s possible courses. He pointed at a spot. “If you could put me here and the others a bit further —”

  — before Ford could complete his sentence, he was standing in the exact spot he’d indicated.

  “— away,” Ford completed in a smaller voice. He turned and saw the others arrayed behind him. “Hana? If you would…”

  The dark-eyed girl nodded and gestured with her hands and Ford found himself the center of a light breeze.

  “We should get aloft,” Reedis said. “Fill.”

  “Fill,” Ford added, feeling the balloon on his back lift and go taut.

  “Up,” Annabelle said, followed by Angus, Nestor, and Reedis.

  “I’ll stay here,” Krea said, glancing toward Hana and Ford.

  Ford glanced at her and nodded. “But not too close, if you please. Give yourself enough distance to get airborne.”

  “Of course,” Wymarc replied with mild affront.

  Ford glanced to Hana, pointing to the others, slowly rising in the morning sun. “Can you spread them out so that they can scan a greater distance?”

  Hana nodded and raised a hand, fanning it upwards back and forth between the others while keeping one hand pointed toward Ford, to maintain the wind.

  “Nothing!” Reedis called down impatiently.

  “Arolan?” Ford said. “Could she get here by now?”

  “No sooner than now,” Arolan said, standing beside Ford and scanning the frozen plains stretching eastwards away from them. “Of course, she might have been distracted —”

  “Distracted? How?”

  “She might have stopped…” the god’s voice tapered off.

  “For something to eat!” Ophidian swore in surprise.

  “Where’s the nearest village?” Ford demanded. He glanced up to the others. “Any sign?”

  “No!” Nestor cried down. His answer was followed by a chorus all saying the same th
ing.

  “She might still be coming…” Arolan said.

  Ford turned to Ophidian. “Can you take me there?”

  “Alone?”

  “And Hana and Krea Wymarc,” Ford said suddenly. He turned to Arolan. “Keep the others here —”

  “Leave Krea Wymarc,” Ophidian said, “and take the prince.”

  “The prince?” Ford asked in surprise.

  “That gives her a choice, at least,” Ophidian said.

  “The prince?” Arolan repeated, looking at the dragon god as if he’d grown another head.

  “We can bring the others if we find Pallas,” Ophidian said testily. “But I don’t want to leave you without choices if the serpent comes here after all.”

  “Very well,” Arolan said, waving his hand dismissively.

  Ophidian frowned up at Nestor and turned to Arolan. “I can’t move him against that magic, can you?”

  Arolan looked up and turned back to the dragon god, his eyes wide with surprise.

  “Then send me and Hana,” Ford said testily. “Send the others when they get down.”

  “So be it,” Ophidian said.

  #

  Ford heard screams all around him. “Hana!”

  “I’m here,” the dark-eyed girl called from behind him.

  “I’m going up,” Ford said, saying the magic word, “Up.”

  Hana rose with him and they scanned the village spread out in front of them with growing horror.

  There were fires in several of the houses. And bloodstains on the snow. Here and there, Ford could see a dark smudge or something torn in half. His ears were filled with cries of despair, overshadowed by a roar of triumph.

  “Hana!” Ford shouted, pointing to the distance. “Blow me over there!”

  Hana gave him a worried look, he was pointing to the center of destruction. Ford repeated his gesture emphatically and, looking worried, Hana complied.

  “Stay back!” Ford called to her. “If this doesn’t go well, I’ll need you to —” He cut off sharply and suddenly clasped his hands to his ears. “Arrr!”

  “Ford!” Hana cried, blowing herself closer to him.

  Ford waved at her frantically with one hand before bringing it back to his head. “The serpent!” Hana gave him an uncomprehending look. “It’s screaming in my head!” He turned back toward the ruins of the village. “Arolan! Arolan!”