Veiled Innocence (Book One, The Soul Cycle)

by Jones, Krystle

  Lian paled and hugged herself.

  Vishka looked at her sharply. “What’s wrong?”

  Lian mustered a smile. “Nothing. Only a sudden chill, that’s all. Please, continue.”

  Vishka’s eyes dropped to the fire. “I was injured trying to escape the temple. Draxonus had taken me below deck to see to my wounds when they descended upon the fleet.” She paused, eyes growing distant. “He ran up the stairs, trying to rally his troops. I went after him, having just stepped onto the deck when the Dracor’s poisonous talons ripped through my flesh. There was a scream of rage, the mad swinging of a sword as someone tried to fight my assailant off, and then all was still. The last thing I remember before blacking out was his cold, dead eyes watching me,” she said, lowering her gaze to the ground. “They accused me. As if it was entirely my fault, and it was.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Lian whispered.

  Vishka’s face hardened. “Spare me your pity. I don’t deserve it.” She let the pain show on her face, her thoughts far away. Rowan stared at the ground, not saying anything.

  “I wanted to die,” Vishka said in a low, chilling voice. “When I awoke and saw the destruction and death around me, all I wanted was to meet Draxonus on the other side, even if my soul was damned.” Her eyes narrowed. “Then He appeared.”

  Lian sat up straighter. “Who appeared?”

  The fire flickered as a cool draft flitted through the clearing. Lian shivered again, and Rowan glanced at her. He unfastened his tattered red cloak and awkwardly put it around Lian’s shoulders. She gasped, giving him a grateful smile. The corner of his mouth twitched, and he looked away, clearing his throat.

  Vishka stared at the cloak around Lian’s shoulders with an odd look. Draxonus did the same for me on a number of occasions. I wonder if that boy’s cloak even smells like him?

  Lian squirmed under her scrutiny. “Who was He?”

  Vishka blinked.

  “You said you met a man,” Lian said. “Did he save you?”

  Vishka laughed, harsh and dry. “I suppose He thought He did.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Vishka slowly smiled and crossed her legs. She twined her fingers together and rested her chin in the middle, the hint of a smile on her lips. She took a deep breath. “He’s the reason I’m cursed with immortal life.”

  Both Lian and Rowan watched her, not moving or blinking, each straining to lean close enough to the fire to hear her yet far enough so as not to be burned.

  “His name was Erebus.”

  Rowan blinked. “The God of Death?”

  Vishka nodded. “He appeared out of nowhere, disguised as my lover, no less,” she said bitterly. “He promised redemption in place of death. In my final hour, He offered me the ultimate weapon with which to extract my revenge upon those who had ruined my life. But of course, there was a catch, one I didn’t fully comprehend until after I had accepted His bargain.” She smiled sadly. “Death for death. How appropriate,” she hissed. “His stipulation was this –,” her voice took on a deeper timbre. “‘You are bound to me until you fulfill your promise or one of your blood sacrifices himself in your stead. Then, and only then, will you be free.’”

  Rowan frowned. “Are we supposed to understand what on Eresea that means?” he said, waving his hand in the air.

  “It means,” Vishka said, “I must either kill His enemy as He ordered or a relative of mine must willingly die in my place so the balance of souls is maintained.”

  “Wait,” Rowan said. “What is the ‘balance of souls’?”

  “Yes, that is what I said,” Vishka snapped. “Erebus guides souls on their journey through the Underworld. Essentially, everyone’s death has been predetermined in order to keep a balance between the living and the dead. It is roughly a ten to one ratio. It changes every day as the number of dead well surpasses the number of living. Since I was supposed to die that night, there is a gap in the system, one that harbors my life’s essence like a ticket that’s reserving my spot. That is why it must be someone of my blood to take their life in place of my own. Our essence is the same. However, if I fulfill His oath, then I will simply start aging where I left off and eventually die myself someday as if I would have had I lived through that night.”

  “This is good then,” Lian said. “It means you won’t be immortal forever, that you can win back your soul.”

  Vishka shook her head. “Not exactly. You see, at the time I died, I was unmarried and had no children of my own. My mother passed away when I was too young to remember much of her, and my father died in battle. I had no brothers or sisters or any relatives to speak of. Those being the circumstances…” Her voice trailed off, leaving a heavy silence hanging in the air.

  “You’re trapped,” Lian finished for her.

  Vishka’s shoulders slumped. “Not that I could ever bring myself to ask anyone to die for me. I have more honor than that.”

  “Then you need to kill Erebus’ enemy,” Rowan said matter-of-factly.

  Vishka rolled her eyes. “What exactly do you think I’ve been trying to accomplish for the past millennia?”

  Rowan gaped at her. “You’re saying you’ve had over a thousand years to kill this man and you haven’t?”

  “It’s not that simple!” Vishka spat. She ran a hand through her hair. “He’s immortal as well and hiding in different forms so as to mask his aura. Immortals give off a different light from humans, a light I can see. If I can’t tell a mortal from an immortal…”

  Rowan paused. “What happens if you fail?”

  “Then we are all doomed. So you see, I can’t fail. I must keep going.”

  “Forever is her curse,” Lian murmured, quoting the poem. “How awful, to have harbored that kind of pain for over a thousand years. I couldn’t imagine it.”

  “As I told you earlier,” Vishka said quietly, “you know nothing of loss.”

  CHAPTER 20Angel

  LIAN SHIVERED AND PULLED the blanket tighter.

  Once the fire had gone out, it had cooled off very fast, and they had retraced their steps back to the murdel camp to salvage anything of use or value. Her mind wandered in and out of consciousness, and there were times where she couldn’t be sure she was dreaming or if she was still awake.

  She rolled over onto her side and huddled her knees close to her chest, hoping that would help, but all it did was make her back cold.

  Sighing in resignation, she finally tossed the blanket aside and stood up.

  The clearing was quiet; Vishka was nowhere to be found, and Rowan was sprawled on his back snoring beneath a heap of blankets. His blankets outnumbered hers at least four to one. How chivalrous, she thought as she tiptoed past him into the forest.

  She didn’t know where she was going, but at that moment she didn’t care. Since sleep would not come, maybe physical activity would tire her out so she could rest.

  Picking a direction, she started walking, stirring up dirt and stray pebbles as she went and occasionally pushing a branch out of her face as she passed. The growth was thicker here, like this part of the woods had not been explored for some time.

  She had heard stories growing up, stories of the creatures and spirits that dwelled in the woods, scaring off any potential travelers. She thought of the murdels, how innocent they had seemed at first, yet how ferocious they had become when fighting Vishka. Perhaps there had been some truth to the stories after all.

  She absently fingered the teardrop, warm against her chest despite the chill in the air. Where had it come from? Her mind had been so preoccupied lately that she hadn’t had much time to consider it. It couldn’t have come out of thin air, but then again, she hardly believed in the gods before tonight. She definitely wouldn’t have thought someone could be stabbed in the stomach and not die.

  The necklace, Vishka, the monsters she’d seen… They all pointed to one thing.

  Magic. Could it really exist?

  She didn’t know how long she walked, lost in her thoughts. Eventua
lly, her ears perceived the sound of running water, and her mouth immediately began to salivate, like an itch that wouldn’t go away.

  Oh, what she would give for a drink of fresh spring water! How many days had it been? Three? Ten? Time had been lost to her since they had entered the forest, and all she had to drink since their capture was the stale water of the murdels that left a taste of what she imagined rocks would taste like in her mouth.

  She began jogging in the direction of the sound. Fresh spring water. In a few minutes, she would have her first taste of real pure water in days.

  The sound grew louder. At last, she came to a narrow riverbank. She kneeled at its side and began scooping handfuls of cool, clean water into her dry mouth. Quicker and quicker she drank; it was the best tasting water she had ever had, rich with the earth’s minerals.

  When she at last had her fill, she sighed in content and sat down on the loose dirt. She idly traced patterns in the water, watching the surface ripple in the moonlight. Her thoughts were troubled, more so now after hearing Vishka’s tale. Her lower lip jutted out in a frown. “You know nothing of loss.”

  Vishka’s metallic voice whipped around in her head. Vishka had no right to criticize her; she too had endured terrible loss. What gave Vishka the right to self-pity? How dare she. She had been through just as much as Vishka! Where was her family, her love? Gone. Gone the same way Vishka’s were gone.

  She picked up a pebble and hurled it into the river; the delicate plump was swallowed up by the night.

  All this time, she thought that maybe things were getting better, that it was becoming easier to deal with. But now that she was completely alone, she was at the mercy of her memories. Her thoughts raced through a tangled web of mixed emotions. The day Gabriel held her in his arms and kissed her for the first time. She could still feel the warmth of his body pressed to hers, despite the chill of the night.

  She remembered how scared she used to be all the time, when she encountered Orris or someone equally intimidating at court. She wondered what had happened to them after the fire, if they had made it out all right or not. Rowan had never mentioned his father the entire time they were together. All of her fears seemed so silly now in comparison to what had recently happened. If she could have a second chance at it all, to redo it, she would gladly take it and relish every moment she had, taunts and all.

  Maybe… if she could revive her kingdom…

  The weight of that monumental task suppressed her like a ton of rocks.

  Her heart sank, and she hugged her knees to herself. What if they don’t want my help? I can’t bring back a kingdom by myself. I don’t know the first thing about running a country.

  It wasn’t so much her fear at being incompetent as it was the fact that the problem felt so huge. Overwhelmed, she let the tears come, hot and heavy, as all of her pent up sorrow drained out of her. She never realized how badly she had needed this until now.

  She cried like that for at least a good half hour until exhaustion finally took her under. Then she at last found blissful peace in the solace of her dreams.

  But she was not alone.

  ***

  THE GIRL WAS FRAIL and delicate, like snow on a winter morning.

  Soft, golden ringlets framed a cherubic face lit with a mischievous smile; small, pudgy fingers twirled a single red yeullis playfully back and forth as she lightly skipped in her silver slippers.

  She was no more than a child, close to six or seven years old. Innocence and sweetness radiated from her, and Lian found herself drawn like a moth to the flame. She stared at the young girl in wonder, captivated by her simplistic happiness.

  Then that little yellow head turned and smiled at her. Lian gasped, equally awed and frightened.

  The girl’s eyes were the same pale green as her own.

  Lian knew who this was now; it was herself, as she used to be long before all of this sadness came to pass.

  The little girl walked up to her and shyly held out the yeullis. She watched beneath dark lashes, and Lian blinked, accepting the gift. Its stem was cold, like it had been sitting in a vase of ice water, and the petals were the same soft velvet she remembered from her dream. She couldn’t believe she was holding a real yeullis; it had been so long. She had to smell it, had to take in that sweet, sharp perfume that belonged only to that flower.

  Closing her eyes, she lifted it to her nose, taking in its scent. She sighed deeply; it was more wonderful than she remembered, more so than the smell of fresh cookies or summer rain.

  “Do you like it?”

  Lian looked up and found the little girl smiling bashfully at her, her fingers twined behind her back. She swayed back and forth, unable to keep still, waiting for an answer.

  “Um, yes. It’s beautiful,” mumbled Lian, feeling a bit dazed. “Er, thank you.”

  The little girl’s face lit up, and she rushed forward to hug Lian. Lian gasped in surprise as those little arms wrapped around her waist, and she gently rested her hands on the girl’s shoulders.

  Lian thought she would only stay that way for a moment and then let go, but she didn’t. She didn’t seem to want to stop hugging her.

  “What are you…” her voice trailed off, lost to the thick white mist that had materialized around them. Something inside her shifted, trying to warn her. Her body felt very heavy, and her voice was barely audible, like all of the sound vanished the moment it left her mouth, swallowed by that dense, shimmering fog.

  Wait. Shimmering?

  The mist had taken on a luminescent quality, almost like tiny crystals were floating in the air around her. Lian stared wide-eyed at it, not quite sure what to make of it yet. It would almost be pretty if it hadn’t been so strange. But then again, she had seen a lot of strange things lately.

  This can’t be real, but I can’t remember if I fell asleep or not. It took a while for the thought to form; her mind wasn’t able to process it at full speed. What was happening to her? Had the murdels returned and drugged her again with one of their darts? This isn’t real. It can’t be.

  “Oh, but it is.”

  It took her a moment to figure out that the voice had come from the little girl, the younger her. She gaped at her, growing a little afraid. “I didn’t say that out loud,” she finally said, staring warily at the innocent girl in her arms.

  The air continued to glisten around them, and a voice in the back of her head kept nagging at her, telling her she should be connecting it to something but she couldn’t quite figure out what. All she wanted to do was to go to sleep.

  All the while, the crystals gleamed in the air, and it suddenly occurred to her where she had seen them before.

  “My necklace,” she breathed. “It’s the same gem that’s in my necklace.”

  With great effort, she turned her head down just barely enough to see her throat. It was like trying to push open a door with rusty hinges. Her eyes strained to see down far enough, but at last she saw the necklace wasn’t there.

  Where was it? She was certain she’d been wearing it at the time she came to the river. She probably would have started to panic if her body had been capable of producing adrenaline at that point, but all she could think about was how heavy her eyelids felt. If only she could close them for a bit…

  Then she noticed something, or rather someone, was missing. The little girl had vanished. She was nowhere near her, or at least from what she could see with her head still turned down.

  “Are you looking for this?”

  That high-pitched chirp made her eyes dart up, and her head slowly followed to find the little Lian a few feet in front of her, dangling the necklace above her head in a teasing fashion.

  Lian took a step forward. “Careful with that,” she started to say, but her groggy mind was too preoccupied with how weighed down her legs felt. They might as well have been made of marble; she could barely lift them. Her eyebrows furrowed together in concentration as she tried once again to make herself move.

  “Don’t worry,”
chimed the little girl. “I’ll take good care of it.”

  “Give it back!” Lian tried to shout, halfway raising her arm before it dropped back to her side. Her head felt so woozy that it was almost making her dizzy. She couldn’t think straight. Her thoughts were all jumbled, and she felt sleep coiling itself around her like a snake.

  Her knees buckled, her body finally succumbing to the phantom weight that had been put upon it. But her mind did not bend to its will. If I could hold out a bit longer…

  Lian swayed on her knees, her eyes fluttering with each wave of sleep that rolled over her.

  Across from her, the little girl raised a finger and tsked it back and forth at her. “You shouldn’t wear yourself too thin,” she said in a chiding, sing-song voice. “Maybe you should rest.”

  There was something wrong with the way she had said that last word. It was more like an order than a mere suggestion from a young girl.

  “No,” Lian protested weakly, swaying too hard and crashing to her side. Her arm was pinned beneath her, but she could not bring herself to move enough to free it. She rested her head on the ground, breathing in the moist richness of the damp soil. Her mouth hung open, and as her eyes began to lose focus, the angelic girl faded in and out of her vision.

  “Rest now,” purred the young girl. “Rest…”

  She knew she should be doing something. There was something she needed to take back, but at the moment, she couldn’t remember what. It must not have been very important. All that mattered now was that she…

  “Sleep.”

  Yes, that’s it. It seemed like the most wonderful idea in the whole world.

  No longer able to fight the weariness, she closed her eyes and fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.

  CHAPTER 21River

  WHEN LIAN CAME TO, she was still by the river.

  Or rather, she was in the river. Half of her lay on the shore while the other half lay submerged below the surface. Thankfully, it was shallow at that part, and she was only in up to her waist.