Splinter (Trapped Souls Book 1)

by Ricki Delaine

  Stilling his mind, subtly aware of the village girl standing watch a few feet away, the sound of her restless shifting reached him distantly. He did his best to keep his mind from wandering, wondering how she became involved in all of this. What Ria’s connection was with his son. His son who had abandoned the honored path and become a criminal.

  He pushed down the spike of emotion threatening to spiral out of control. He would have answers soon enough. He would decide then what he needed to do to restore his family’s honor. For now, he and Ria had to escape from this place that he used to call home. Another breath in and out. He reached invisible fingers toward that place of calm, already anticipating the renewed strength he would soon have. He reached out, and found. Emptiness.

  Where his mind’s eye had come to expect the warmth of the god’s gifts. Cobalt for sealing, smoky gray for shielding and burnt-orange for strength, there was only himself. Earthly. Mundane. Empty. He fought down a rising panic with the realization the power wasn’t there for him anymore. He had not had to use it for many years, but he had not passed it on. He was the last Mamoru of the Isao line.

  Had the gods abandoned his house? When Theron had been appointed, the ceremony had been a formality. The young man did not carry the Isao bloodline, the gifts remain with Kino. He opened his eyes. Ria had turned to face him and looked like she was about to walk over. He felt a flush of shame burn through him. Taking a more deliberate breath, he worked to slow his breathing.

  Meeting Ria’s eyes, he said, “One more moment, dear. Thanks for your patience with an old man.” Looking dismayed, her mouth opened on what he knew would be a protest. Kino smiled and shook his head once. Held up his hand. She closed her mouth with a short nod. Turning away from him, she focused her gaze on their surroundings once more.

  He closed his eyes again, looking inward. Until he understood what had happened, praying to the gods would not likely do anything, and maybe not even then. For now, all he understood was that the gifts were gone. He had nothing to lean on but himself. His old battered body, tired in mind and spirit, and an empty place where untapped power used to reside. Or no, not empty, because his own strength remained, solid and steady. It had brought him through the loss of his wife and his eldest son. It had brought him through the last few agonizing days. It would have to be enough.

  He stood up and nodded to Ria. Though she seemed worried, she said nothing. They made their way back to the line of light between the danger in which they stood and the cool dark of Eiji Forest. “That is the way the patrol will come from,” she whispered, indicating a path farther away, in the shadow just outside of the strip of light. Kino nodded. He understood now why she was worried. By walking in the shadows, the guards had two obvious advantages – one, their eyes remained adjusted to the dark, and two, patrolling in the shadows with blood-red and black armor afforded them protection from watchful eyes – they were almost impossible to see.

  Ria put a hand on her elder’s shoulder and stepped back, further away from the light. She held a finger up to her lips and Kino looked up to see the guard just making his way on his route. A handful of breaths later and he rounded the bend at the far end of the courtyard. And then they were running, Ria first, in a quick, crouching run. She didn’t look back and she didn’t waver. Kino followed and he was three-quarters across, watching her mount the wall in front of them when the shout rang out.

  Kino turned to see the guard that had just crossed their path running back their way. The man was pulling his sword, shouting at the top of his lungs. Years of training had Kino turning to face his enemy, even as his mind computed the odds and knew that death was rushing towards him on booted feet. He was unarmed, exhausted from sleepless days of torture and no food. But the girl was behind him and he could delay them long enough so she could escape. So he started turning, and then fingers closed around his arm, pulling. “Master Kino, no. We can still get out.” The guards were almost on them. But something in her voice had him half-turning to follow her.

  “Trust me,” she said, pulling on his arm again with surprising strength, and heading for the stone wall. Muttering a curse, Kino turned and put his strength into following her. They reached the stone wall and he lunged up, reaching for the rough stone. His body still ached horribly. Pulling himself to the top of the wall took more effort than he wanted to admit, but he did it and soon enough they were dropping to the other side. It was pitch black on the forest side and he paused, suddenly blinded.

  Again, delicate fingers found their way to his arm. “Follow me, Master Kino.” Ria’s voice was low, and his old ears almost missed what she said. He looked to the wall, expecting to be followed. A moment later his mind supplied the answer, remembering what Ria must have already known. The guards wouldn’t follow beyond the wall like this. Now that the immediate threat was no longer on the grounds, a group would be gathered to follow them. He and Ria had a few precious minutes’ head start. “They won’t follow us,” Ria confirmed.

  He thought wryly that he was showing his age. He’d known that. He should have remembered that in the beginning and planned for it, as the girl obviously had. He realized something else as well and smiled. This part of the wall was at the absolute furthest point from the two entrances to the grounds. It would take time before a search party could find their way here, attempting to find this spot by torchlight, tracking them through a night shrouded forest. Ria and Kino should be able to mask their trail well enough to get away. Shaking his head both at himself and the clever girl beside him, he turned and followed her, as she made her way away from the wall and into the shadows.

  Chapter 17

  Theron listened as long as he dared, until the sound of their footsteps had almost faded. Then he turned, heading back down into the dungeon. Ria would find a way to get Kino safely off the grounds. Were he not in such a terrible state, Theron had no doubt his father could find his own way to safety. Now, though he didn’t even know where that might be. Was the farm even still there?

  He shook his head. That was a worry for later.

  Past the room with the sleeping guards, past the cells with their doomed occupants. He kept going until he reached the very end of the stone corridor and found himself at a door. Two actually, plain and roughly hewn from wood. They were barred from this side, which was strange. If anything, in this place of cells, metal locks and stone walls, there should be nothing to bar entry from the other side, since it was unlikely these doors led to the outdoors. But Theron had seen some of what lay on the other side of those doors. And for that reason, seeing that simple wooden bar made his stomach do a slow roll. He wondered if the dungeon caretakers had any idea why it was barred. He wondered if they’d ever had need to use it.

  Looking around once more to be sure he wasn’t observed, Theron lifted the bar. Pulling on the metal handles and carefully opening the heavy doors, he could feel his heart pounding and winced at the grinding scuff of the wood against the stone floor. He took a moment to curse the makers of the doorway. The doors themselves had no windows and were too thick to hear anything that might lay beyond them. So he had to hope there wasn’t a patrol nearby to investigate who might be visiting at this hour. He paused for a moment, half expecting the alarm shout from a guard that might be stationed there. Hearing nothing, he slipped through the doors, closing them silently behind him.

  Crouching slightly, he turned to see where he had ended up. The doors opened into a wide hallway of stone. Metal sconces with wooden torches were spaced every few feet, but only a few were lit. Likely, they rotated torches to preserve the wood and oil. Except for the locked door behind him, it seemed luck was with him. The hallway was otherwise empty. Theron paused to thank the Gods for the small blessing.

  The Gods must not have heard him, or been unimpressed, because that was where his luck ended. The pathway in front of him was completely unfamiliar. He and Ria had not passed through this area of these underground tunnels, which made him wonder how far they really went. They had only been t
rying to escape, so it was no surprise to find there was more to the tunnels than they had noticed or had opportunity to see. That whole evening was a blur of close combat, running and the razor sharp intensity that only ever came from fighting for your life.

  It was a distraction at the moment, but he couldn’t help remembering reaching for the Kamiryoku that first time, desperately, and the stunning shock of having it reach back. He didn’t know how divine favor worked. The power was only supposed to answer the call of an Isao, for blood spilled in service to the Imperial family, the descendants of the gods. Such things weren’t for a lowly orphan, taken in like a stray animal. Yet, it had answered when he reached for it.

  Rising in his mind like a sour tide, the vision that old tree spirit Moss Beard had shown him flickered to life. He pushed it away, but had the uneasy sense that the two were somehow related.

  Putting thoughts of visions and gifts to the back of his mind, he kept going. Finally, he came to a junction where the pathway split in four directions. Four completely unfamiliar hallways. He could almost feel the stars tracking across the sky. How long could he explore here, only to turn up empty handed? Had Lynea even been brought to this dark place?

  Moving over to one of the torches on the wall, he lifted it from the holder. After checking again to make sure he was alone, he crouched to examine the first passageway. The floor was hard-packed earth, mostly rock, that had been swept nearly free of dirt. In this unchanging environment, it was difficult to see how recent or old tracks might be. There were very few and they were indistinct. This hall did not get much use.

  The next passage had no tracks at all. Which was odd, but he didn’t stop to question it. The third and fourth passageways were well marked. The bad news here was that they both seemed to have seen recent traffic. A lot of it. There was nothing else to help him choose one over the other. No marking, carvings or signs. He could only pick and hope he was correct.

  Looking down those two most used paths, torches were fewer and farther apart, with huge-seeming gaps of dark shadow in between. He debated bringing the light he held with him. But with no guarantee he would only find human guards here, a torch would announce him before he could see who, or what, he was heading toward.

  No torch, then.

  Replacing it in the metal holder and making a decision, Theron took the path to the right. It looked like it led along the base of the mountain. In fact, it seemed it would take him near the hidden room, where he and Ria had scrambled down the ladder into the tunnels.

  He moved along the passageway, feeling the temperature cool as he went. The light faded all too quickly as he moved further and further from the tunnel juncture. He should have counted his steps, he wasn’t sure how far he had traveled. It was impossible to tell in the infrequent splashes of light along the way. The ground under his feet was slowly heading up. Had he chosen wrong? He broke into a jog, the black was beginning to give way. Soon the pattern of light and dark shortened and finally, he realized he had no real trouble seeing the corridor stretching out into the distance. There were voices ahead, but the hall was empty. He slowed, placing his steps carefully, not wanting to notify anyone of his presence.

  Abruptly, the hall forked in another split. There was a doorway just ahead of him, along the right wall. It was a dimly glowing rectangle of light in the darkness around him, and a moment later Theron placed the voices as coming from that room. “– he do as you require?”

  “After he’s satisfied himself that my threat is real.” Both male, the second voice Theron recognized as the Emperor. The first, the one who asked the question, he’d never heard before, but the pitch was so deep as to almost be vibration alone.

  That deep voice laughed then, and under that humorless sound lay a malice and menace so deep that Theron felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle. “Your threat. He seems cowed, indeed. Your guards have yet to recover from his terror of you.”

  “That was unplanned. The old man should not have guided him to the witch, but it was Destiny’s hand at play there.” Arrogance bled into the Emperor’s next words. “I still have the gods’ blessing. Had he not set those events in motion, we would not have known of the key.”

  “A key serves no purpose if you cannot use it. The otokage were not able to make it past the wards surrounding that accursed Temple. Most did not survive the damage they received.”

  “Why tell me again, when we both witnessed it through their eyes?” The Emperor made a disgusted noise, and his voice sounded closer than before. Theron took a few steps back, suddenly worried he may be discovered, but when the ruler spoke again, it was further away and growing more distant. Tatsuo must be pacing. “I could not even send Nephili over the Temple to learn the strength of the guardians. It is like that damned witch’s forest, a barrier against my reach.” The vibration of the other voice dropped lower still, and Theron could not make out what was said, but the Emperor responded, simply enough. “No. It means a mortal must be the one to take it. One untainted by your touch.”

  “Send one you can trust, not one you’ve vowed to kill.”

  The Protector could hear the sneer in Emperor Tatsuo’s response. “Trust. There are none worth my trust. Regardless of any vow, I need to send one I can control.” The Emperor laughed shortly. “Centuries separate us from when I truly knew him, but I saw in his eyes the moment he was appointed. He has not changed.” The sneer grew teeth, and Tatsuo’s voice fairly swam with malevolence. “He will do it. Which is fortunate, as only he could succeed. Be still. Soon enough I can give him the task.”

  “He won’t leave withou–”

  “And I do not wish him to. It sickens me to see her, that sad substitute for true beauty. Better that she does not test my patience with her presence.”

  Theron did not have a chance to hear the rest of the conversation, because at that moment the sound of clawed feet broke through his focus. He looked to the left in time to see two ryouken racing towards him along the facing tunnel, pausing mid-stride long enough to launch themselves at him, snarling.

  His sword was useless here, there wasn’t enough room to fight. Dropping silently into a crouch, he drew a hunting knife from his belt. He braced for a close battle, because he didn’t dare throw the blade. Not only was there a good chance he’d miss in this lighting, it would leave him with only a sword that required a range to be effective.

  Shifting to the left to avoid one of the creatures, he kicked the second, throwing all of his weight into it. Lean and heavily muscled it might be, but Theron still outweighed it. The force of his kick knocked the ryouken to the side, its momentum carrying it past him to crash against the stone wall with a high-pitched yelp. Theron cringed. If its snarl had not been heard, that was sure to be noticed, but he had more pressing concerns at the moment. Whipping to his right, he lunged at the other animal as it bounced off the back wall and turned to snap its jaws at him. He got it in the throat, jerking the blade hard. Its jaws opened and Theron got all too close to ugly serrated fangs, its foul breath and the smell of blood hitting him squarely as he moved out of its path. It was trying to cry out, but the only sound that came was a gurgle. The kill wasn’t as clean as it could be, and the body didn’t know it was dead, still trying to charge Theron as its legs buckled.

  He didn’t wait for its eyes to close before he turned again. The one he kicked had regained its feet, sharp face and red eyes whipping around to focus on him. It was fast. Before he could bring the bloodied knife up, it lunged with a growl, jaws snapping shut on his forearm.

  He couldn’t help it, he screamed and the blade fell. Dimly, he heard the clatter as the weapon hit the floor. The creature’s fangs tore at his arm, ripping through cloth, skin and muscle. The pain was incredible, and his mind whited out for a few precious seconds. Then the ryouken shook its head, instinctively trying to rip its prize free. Gasping desperately at the surge of pain and the burn of needle-sharp teeth, Theron reached for the dagger on the floor. White and red haloed his vision, pulsin
g in time to his heartbeat. The beast shook its head again and Theron grit his teeth against the scream that wanted out. His fingers strained to reach the blade, catching at the edge of it and feeling it nudge further away. He let out a sound of frustration that was almost a moan, inaudible over the steady growl of the ryouken. His vision was fading from red to gray, and he became aware of the steady dripping warmth of his blood down the length of his arm.

  You’re losing blood. Do something or you will die here.

  He couldn’t reach the knife. Giving up on it and taking hold of the sheath on his belt, he yanked. The leather straps creaked but didn’t give. Really wanting to scream now, he pulled again, stretching the straps to their limit and past it, until finally it came free in his hand. The beast shook its head again. Theron would swear he could feel the rip and tear of the tendons in his arm. Biting back any other sounds, putting all of his desperation and fear behind the sheath he held, he drove it into the beast’s left eye. His stomach lurched at the feeling of the hardened leather sinking home with a horrible, wet squelching sound. The creature collapsed, but its teeth didn’t release his arm. It had locked its jaws and the weight of it dragged him to one knee.

  In the sudden complete silence, Theron could finally reach over and grab the knife, slotting the blade between the creature’s jaws and twisting. The only sound now was the gasp of each breath as he tried to hold back the pain. The wretched thing didn’t want to let go, even dead. Its cold, lifeless eyes still seemed to glow, red and malevolent. If there was ever something evil in the world, this was it.

  It took sawing at the jaws of the ryouken to get it to release him, but he did it, hissing as nerves shrieked and the teeth came free. He was bleeding freely now, too. That was bad. Cutting a strip of cloth from the bottom of his shirt with shaking hands, he wrapped it quickly, tightly around the wound.

  Forgetting what he’d been listening to before the ryouken came at him, he only thought of finding Lynea now. The tunnel was split in front of him. He just needed to decide which way to go. As he knotted the makeshift bandage and those thoughts flashed through his mind, those moments before the fight came back to him – along with the memory of voices from the open door. He started to stand, glancing towards the door, only to meet the eyes of the Emperor. Habit almost made him drop his gaze, but anger kept it there. One side of the ruler’s mouth turned up. “Ah. Finally you arrive.” Cold, black eyes slid over Theron, slipping down to the stain of blood on the floor and rising again. Expression twisting in distaste, he stepped back delicately. “You seem unwell, Mamoru.” For someone so unaffected by the violence he did to others, it seemed odd, that step back. As if the sight of blood bothered him.