Splinter (Trapped Souls Book 1)

by Ricki Delaine

  He reached down for the keys on his belt, his gaze falling to his fingers. “What?” They weren’t there.

  Feeling a clench of cold punch him in the stomach, he moved back into the main area, his eyes darting across the floor. The paths he’d taken on the dirt-softened rock floor. From the door to the pens. Where were they? He must have dropped them in front of one of the cages in the other room.

  Pushing back panic, he jogged into the center room, moved beyond the serving table and wine, and into the room past it.

  ˜ ˜ ˜

  Careful not to let the keys rattle, Theron chose the obvious one. Appearing as ancient as the door, it was larger than the others and made of iron, instead of steel. He looked up at the carvings in the door-frame. They hadn’t been there when he and Ria had come through just a few days ago. He doubted they were ornamental. They could be part of a spell, made to harm anyone who wasn’t supposed to get into the room. The question was, would the key alone allow him in, or would it take something more?

  The runes flared when he put the key in the lock and his stomach lurched. He didn’t drop his gaze as he turned the key, watching the symbols flare brighter and brighter, but finally, the light faded, the lock releasing with a heavy metallic click. He let out the breath he’d been holding. What would have happened if he’d tried to enter without the key? He was happy enough not to find out. Carefully, he edged the door open a crack and could see flickering light beyond.

  “Who’s there?” Something tight in his chest loosened. Lynea. He hesitated, listening for any noise that said the Emerald Lady wasn’t alone. The angle of the door didn’t let him view very much of the room, so he couldn’t be sure. After that first question, silence fell.

  Taking a chance, he said quietly, “My lady.”

  “Theron!” He heard cloth shifting and the sound of footsteps. Then the door was opening. Lady Lynea looked drawn and pale. Anxiety lined her expression and her posture, in a way that he had never seen before. It made him angry to think what she’d suffered these past days. She was wearing one of the new kimonos, white with delicate blue flowers. Its light color only serving to highlight the dark circles under her eyes. “My Protector?” Her eyes moved around the hallway, not settling anywhere. She was looking right through him, surprise and fear added to the worry he saw on her features. He realized he hadn’t dropped the Mamoru’s shield. He was still virtually invisible.

  Quietly, he murmured, “Yes, my lady. I am here, just hidden. Step back into the room for a moment.” She frowned, but did as he asked. He followed her, unraveling the thread of power keeping him shielded from sight. Watching her eyes widen, he wondered what it must look like to her. He looked down at his hands, but it was too late. He smiled, just a little. If he had a chance to use the gift again, he’d have to look for it, when he reappeared. He took a deep breath and let it out, willing himself to ignore the dull, whole-body ache that made itself known once he’d finished.

  When her expression crumpled from surprise to something else, he opened his mouth to reassure her that it was truly him, but before he could, she stepped up, throwing her arms around him. “Theron. I was so afraid you were dead.”

  It felt too good to have her so close, so warm. He wanted nothing more than to stay there forever. Carefully, he put his hands on her arms, pulling her back enough to look into her eyes. “Did they hurt you?” She had lost weight. Her eyes, that brilliant green, so uncommon and which had always burned bright with whatever mood took her, seemed dull – as if someone had dimmed her heart’s fire.

  “No. I’m fine.” Obviously not true, but now was not the time. Looking around the small room, he snatched up the few other items of clothing there. He hesitated when his eyes fell on the jade comb the Emperor had given Lynea, on the floor in the corner near the door. The delicate tines were broken, the miniature dragon that had decorated it was missing. He wondered briefly what had happened to it, and would have mourned it except that the Emperor had given it to her. He left it where it was.

  Quickly, he scanned the room for anything else. The tatami mat, the small table and candle he recognized from his earlier visit. With the exception of the rune-etching on the door frame and the repaired door, the room was the same. He found himself resisting the urge to look under the small pillow to see if there would be another sheaf of paper, filled with fine script. “My Protector, you should not have come.”

  “Don’t talk like that. I have to get you out of here.” He reached for her hand, but she pulled away.

  “No. I can’t.” She shook her head, stepping back from him.

  He reached for her again, not understanding how she could expect to stay. “My lady. I can’t leave you here. Do you know what he intends?”

  “He intends to marry me.”

  “He …” and he looked into her eyes and he couldn’t tell her the truth. “Yes. But then, my lady. What then?”

  Her gaze traveled the room, falling on the uneaten food on the tray on the tiny table. The candle almost burned to nothing. “I don’t know.” Her voice faded off uncertainly. “He means to have you collect something for him.”

  “Yes.”

  Her brows drew together, and she closed her eyes. “He said you’re not strong enough. He said you’ll die.”

  “He’s wrong. He can’t see everything, Lynea. No one can.”

  “The gods can. He is of the gods.”

  The gods wouldn’t perpetrate the evil their ruler had. Marriage and life both was sacred in the eyes of the gods. The demon-creatures in the next room, the plan he had for Lynea. If that was not evil, what was?

  She took a breath and she was near enough to him that he felt the soft gust of it across his neck when she exhaled. “He said you’d come for me.”

  That made him pause, but not for long. He looked into the hallway, as empty as it had been when he’d arrived. “Did he.” Stepping back to her, he took her hand. She didn’t pull away this time. “Well let’s not disappoint our lord ruler.”

  ˜ ˜ ˜

  Oshiro couldn’t find the keys. He had looked everywhere. Through all the rooms, past winged horrors and hissing lizards. As terror tightened his chest and made it difficult to breathe, he stopped just long enough to fill his cup with wine again and empty it.

  Already knowing it would be pointless (for he had used the keys after he offered the lady her evening meal), he went to the room where she was being held.

  He found one of the keys, which was good. It had been left in the door to the room the Emerald Lady had been in. The rest were gone, though, as was the lady. The terror Oshiro had felt since discovering the keys missing was suddenly gone. At least he wouldn’t be stationed here any longer. He wouldn’t be stationed anywhere, most likely.

  He almost found it a relief. He should report the escape. The captain would want to start the search immediately. The lady and whoever had helped her might still be on the grounds. After that, well, the consequences of Oshiro’s failure would follow soon after. For Oshiro, anything beyond that wouldn’t matter.

  He may as well have some more wine.

  ˜ ˜ ˜

  Lynea’s fingers were small and warm and real. Theron had to keep from tightening his grip on them just to make sure he didn’t lose her again. He focused instead on the hallway in front of them, stretching out, dark and forbidding. They had been running for some time now. It wouldn’t be long before someone discovered the room she’d been in was empty. He still wasn’t confident the Emperor would keep his word. He wanted to get Lynea away from here as quickly as he could.

  He hated to push her, but, “Hurry, my lady.”

  “I … yes.” She sped up and he lengthened his stride to keep up with her new pace. He could hear each breath next to him, coming fast and strained. Dark strands of hair had come loose from where she’d tied it back and were hanging in her face, lifting with each puff of air.

  “Just a little longer.”

  She laughed, breathless. “Who are you trying to convince, my P
rotector?” She paused a moment, and he felt a pang when she pulled her fingers from his to lean forward, putting her hands on her hips while she caught her breath. She looked down the hall in front of them and captured his gaze again with a significant look. “It took half an age for the Imperial Guard to walk me down here, surely it will take us nearly as long to leave.”

  She was right, of course. Looking down, he nodded and huffed a breath. “Wishful thinking.”

  “How are we going to get out of here?”

  “I’ve done it before.” He knew that wasn’t really an answer, but he didn’t really have one. She was still for a few breaths, waiting for him to continue with that quiet, watchful way of hers. He suspected that, as always, she was seeing more than he wanted her to. Willing himself to relax, he hoped it wasn’t obvious how worried he was. It was his job to make sure she was safe.

  At this point, he wasn’t sure he could do his job.

  She frowned, the delicate crease between her eyes showing her emotion. She stepped forward, reaching out and taking a hold of his right hand, pulling it to her. “How did you get out before? And were you wounded then, too?” His makeshift bandage was coming undone, one edge hanging loose. Thankfully, the bleeding had almost stopped, but he could still see a few spots where it had soaked through. Carefully, she unwrapped it enough to pull it taut, binding it and tying off the end again.

  He watched her careful attention to his makeshift bandage, his mind shuffling through possibilities. Should he chance the dungeon door? It was the only exit he was certain of now. He would have to go past the room the Emperor had been. “I will have my men stay their hands.” If the Emperor hadn’t raised the alarm yet, it meant the other things Tatsuo said may be true as well. Lynea’s life depended on Theron completing his errand.

  Almost as if she read his thoughts, Lynea said again, “He said that you would come for me.”

  “Yes,” he said carefully, “You mentioned that earlier.” She was looking down at the floor now, her hand still held gently in his. “Did he say anything else?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “What else did he say, my lady?”

  “He said you would also bring me back.”

  Something cold settled in Theron’s chest. It was pushing all the air from his lungs. “Why?”

  “Because I – if you don’t, then …”

  “Lynea?” Her grip tightened on his. He took hold of the fingers of her left hand, where she’d wrapped them around his. “What did he do to you?”

  She looked up at him again, her eyes brighter than they should be. She turned her hand over, reaching with her free hand to lift the sleeve of her kimono up. What he saw made his stomach churn. He understood then, why the Emperor was so willing to let her leave with him.

  Red, ugly and raised on her wrist, there was a mark that almost looked like a brand. A dragon, two inches long. It was moving. Moving. He reached towards it, to prove his eyes wrong. It turned its head and looked at him. The tiny jaws opened and it hissed, sinking fangs into the reddened skin beneath it. Lynea cried out, stumbling against him. Panic exploded in his chest and he grabbed her before she fell, thinking this spell, or curse, was killing her. But her grip on his hand tightened painfully and his heart started again. She took a shuddering breath and opened her eyes. He looked at the mark of the dragon on her wrist again. It wasn’t moving anymore, and he almost doubted what he had seen. But it was longer than it had been before, reaching further up her arm. Intuitively he knew, it would continue to grow. When it reached her heart, it would kill her.

  “This can’t be,” he muttered. “How did he do this?”

  “I don’t know,” and her voice broke on the words before she took a deep breath, making a visible attempt to calm herself. She made a fist of her left hand, grimacing. He knew she must hurt, with the twin punctures the dragon had left in her wrist. “And I don’t know how long I have, with this marked upon my skin.” She exhaled slowly, and he knew she was trying not to worry him.

  Now the Emperor’s promise made sense. That was why the Emperor was so confident Theron would do what he wanted and bring both the stone and Lynea back.

  Almost speaking his thoughts, Lynea finished, “But he said that he would remove this curse if you bring me back before the solstice. If you also bring the stone, as he requires,” her voice stumbled on that last, before she said with a small smile, “The wedding will still take place.”

  He was still reeling over the sight of what that man had done to her when she smiled at him. With a smile that spoke of her dreams, still intact, it seemed. She stood here suffering from what the Emperor had done, and yet she still expected to be Empress. But it wasn’t going to happen. Before the solstice was over, she would be dead. Either from this curse or by the Emperor’s hand directly. Unless Theron could somehow find their way free of this horror.

  He needed to let her know that the wedding she was so hopeful for was a lie. The words were on the tip of his tongue, when a flicker of movement further up the corridor caught his attention.

  He looked up to see a much smaller version of the winged horror he had faced in the woods. It was watching them, nearly hidden in the shadow on top of an unlit torch. Theron had the eerie sense that it understood what they had been saying. He reached for the blade in his belt, but as the knife slid free, the creature scuttled up the wall, claws digging into the stone. Opening dark gray wings that blackened at the edges, it took off, heading back towards the hallway and room where the Emperor had been, with that other, unknown speaker.

  Lynea’s eyes followed his. Her gaze seemed indifferent as she said, “A spy.”

  “How do you know?”

  “A guess. Our Lord Ruler talked about seeing everything, in all lands. He talked about how he knew you would be back.”

  Of course he would have spies here as well. Theron should have been looking for them. Does he see what they see, or do they tell him, somehow? Well. He’d likely witnessed their exchange, then, and knew the trap had been sprung. Theron would become a thief to save Lynea. But first they had to get out of here. Taking Lynea gently by the elbow, he urged her forward.

  He said it again. “No one can see everything Lynea.” It was a reassurance, for both her and himself. He’d find a way to free her from this curse.

  They passed through the hallway where he’d fought the ryouken. There was no sign of the corpses now. Theron could almost imagine he still smelled their blood on the air. The door to the room where the Emperor had been was closed. Theron resisted going to the room, wanting to see what was in it. Would the Emperor be there, with his mysterious companion?

  They kept going. The Emperor must know how Theron had entered the tunnels. He wondered if the door was still open. Taking her hand again, he led her past the scene of his earlier confrontation, down to the junction where the halls split and finally to the door that led into the dungeon. Reaching for the heavy wooden handle, he tugged. With a dull scrape, it opened.

  There was his answer. Tatsuo had been true to his word. At least, for now. Lynea must have picked up on Theron’s hesitance. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Let’s go.”

  They left the dungeon, and skirted most of the grounds, heading for the surrounding wall. Theron still didn’t want to risk the front gate, regardless of the Emperor’s assurance. Unknowingly almost mirroring Ria and Kino’s path, a few minutes later they crossed the splash of torchlight, after watching a scowling guard pace across and out of sight. Still half-expecting it, no call of alarm followed them.

  The lady had no trouble scrambling over the stone barrier, hitching her robes in tight before starting the climb. Theron supposed it wasn’t much different than sneaking through her window, as she’d done just a few days before, to see him in the stables. He couldn’t help cringing when the delicate silk kimono snagged on the rough stone, his mind going back to the seamstress’ visit and how she had forbidden Lynea to wear any of the new dresses until the week of the wedding. />
  It was disorienting, surrounded by trees after their rush across the palace grounds, but taking a moment to look at the stars put them on the right path. Moving as quickly as he dared, Theron led the way, pointing out roots and other obstacles, knowing that Lynea would have trouble in the dark.

  Several minutes went by, punctuated only by the sound of twigs snapping and leaves rustling. Theron concentrated on their direction, using that to keep his mind off the throb of his wounded forearm.

  Faintly, he could see the stone on his wrist glowing and tugged his sleeve down over it. He didn’t want to frighten Lynea (and didn’t really feel up to answering any questions. Especially since he had no idea what to say). The way was rough going, tangled roots reaching out to trip them, the scratch of branches across bare arms and catching at their clothes. Theron bit back a curse when his grip slipped and he took another face full of leaves. Lynea laughed, but cut it short with a hand over her mouth. Breathless and a little desperate, she asked, “My Protector, is it much farther?”

  Theron could hear the strain in her voice and knew it was more than the physical effort of stumbling through the woods at night. The Emperor’s done this to her. “No, my lady. Almost there. My companions are just past that thicket there.”

  “Companions?” And pushing through the bushes around the camp, they stepped into dim light.

  Ria and Mako were at the far side of the small open area, checking the saddles and talking quietly. Glancing around quickly, Theron felt his heart skip a beat before he saw his adopted father sitting cross-legged on the ground near Kit, several feet away from the others. He had his eyes closed, but when he and Lynea stepped further into the clearing, the older man looked up and caught Theron’s eyes. Something in his father’s gaze threaded uneasily through the young Protector. Theron dropped his eyes, his jaw clenching.

  Ria spoke, her face lighting up when she saw him. “We had better leave, Theron, er, Mamoru,” Ria said, with a quick glance at Kino. “Mako noticed that the patrol routes are shifting this way.” Mako was nodding, his expression grim. The village girl’s mouth twisted briefly and eyebrows creased, she looked quickly at Kino before saying, “We had a little run-in with the guards on the way out. That may be why.”