King Of Souls (Book 2)

by Matthew Ballard

  “How do I know you’re not lying?”

  Arber never hesitated. “I saw a vision of Keely. An atter struck her hip in the desert. Did that happen?”

  Danielle’s pulse quickened, and she leaned forward. “How did you know that? Did Aren tell you?” But as she spoke the words, she knew Aren couldn’t have told Arber. Danielle thought back on his brief visit to Brees’s home. He’d paid no attention to Keely, nor did he ask about her. She leaned against the blurry crystalline wall and winced. The sweat soaking her dress sizzled like bacon in a skillet. She straightened and used the cloth covering her wrist to soak up a bucket of perspiration streaming down her forehead.

  The conversation’s direction caused a pang of dread to darken her thoughts. What would he reveal next? Did she want to know?

  “The visitor said the Heartwood’s survival was of extreme importance to humankind,” Arber said. “The visitor said the visions were of a future that might be, but I had the power to change it.”

  “How?” She thought she knew, but wanted to hear him say it.

  “The visitor told me to destroy either Elan’s Heart or Lora’s Heart. If I did, shard magic might die, but humanity would live on.”

  “Saved? From the Obsith?” Danielle said.

  Arber shook his head. “In the visions, I saw the plague decimate the Obsith.”

  Danielle’s stomach twisted. “Without the Heartwood, the plague will kill everyone won’t it? Does the fruit’s antidote fade over time?”

  “I can’t say for sure, but every vision has come true since my…failure.” Arber hung his head.

  “You wanted Pride to destroy Lora’s Heart didn’t you?”

  Arber lifted his head and stared without focus as if recalling old memories. “The visitor assured me no harm would come to you or Ronan. I refused to help otherwise.” His focus sharpened as his gaze locked on Danielle’s. “Yes. I wanted it destroyed. You would too if you’d seen what I’ve seen.”

  “But, that didn’t happen,” Danielle said.

  Arber shook his head. “If I failed to destroy either heart, the visitor told me to meet a man named Martell at the forest’s edge. The visitor said he could help me.”

  “Help you with what?”

  “Help me stop the invasion. If we could convince the emperor of the Heartwood’s importance, he might alter his plans.”

  “He didn’t believe you, did he?” Danielle said.

  Arber shook his head. “No. He thought it was a trick.”

  A horrible thought struck Danielle. If Arber hadn’t visited the desert, the plague wouldn’t have spread. The Obsith could’ve lived ignorant of the Ayralens for decades longer. She almost spoke the theory out loud, but realized he would've reached the same conclusion by now. “Arber, it would’ve happened regardless. You know that right? It was only a matter of time.”

  “The emperor seemed surprised by visit, but not shocked. It felt like he’d been waiting for the news.”

  “What bargain did you make with him?”

  “Danielle, I saw thousands of sorcerers gathered in Zen. The Obsith have ten times as many shaman and sorcerers as we have wardens and guardians. Even if you added the Meranthian shard knights the ratio wouldn’t change. That’s too large an advantage to overcome, and that’s without their pet dragons.”

  “Arber, the bargain?” Danielle said.

  “The emperor promised to leave the forest whole…and to leave you unharmed. In exchange, I’d lead him to Lora’s Sphere.”

  “How did you know where to find it?”

  Arber shrugged. “Even though I’ve released the magic, I feel an affinity for it. I feel it now.”

  “Why didn’t you come to me with this before you gave Lora’s Heart to Merric Pride?”

  Arber raised his eyebrows. “Would you’ve believed me?”

  Danielle recalled her emotional and mental state last summer. “No. I would’ve thought you’d lost your mind.”

  A slight smile flickered across Arber’s face. “Maybe I have.”

  Danielle stood, crossed the room, and sat beside Arber. She gripped his massive hand and squeezed. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. It was wrong, and it’s not true.”

  “So you believe me then?”

  She leaned her head against his shoulder and nodded. “I’m sorry about Martell. He sounds like a good man.”

  “He was a good man. There are others like him among the Obsith. They’re a decent people Danielle, and don’t deserve what’s about to happen to them.”

  “Martell was a shaman?”

  Arber nodded, and his grin widened. “I couldn’t figure out how he could walk all day in the desert and never sweat. Once I discovered his power, we had a good laugh about it.” His grin faded, and his expression turned bleak. “I didn’t even think about the plague when he fell sick. I shouldn’t have listened to the visitor. If I’d left the desert people alone, they wouldn’t be dying right now.”

  “Our contact with the Obsith was unavoidable. It just so happens it was you.” Danielle said. “Besides, there’s no point reliving a past we can’t change. We need to find solutions to our present problems.”

  Arber nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Did the emperor reveal anything of his plans?”

  “He didn’t, but Martell believed he’d need both spheres to carry out his plan.”

  “Then Meranthia’s next.” Danielle sighed.

  “He won’t know where to find it,” Arber said.

  “Which means he’ll have to flush out Ronan just like he did me in the Heartwood,” Danielle said.

  “In my visions, I saw Freehold under attack,” Arber said.

  Danielle nodded. “We can’t leave camp without Lora’s Sphere.”

  Arber raised his brow as if surprised. “We?”

  “You didn’t think I’d leave you here to die? Not after everything you’ve just told me, did you?”

  Arber’s face reddened, and his condition appeared unrelated to the heat. “Thank you for believing me Danielle. No matter what happens, my spirit can rest easy. But, the emperor must have a dozen sorcerers guarding Lora’s Sphere.”

  “We’ll make it out of here Arber. There’ll be no talk of dying.” Danielle turned her head toward the sphere she felt less than twenty yards away. “How much do the Obsith know of guardian powers?”

  “I can’t say for sure. I’ve not mentioned them to anyone. Not even Martell.”

  A loud grating noise came from the cell’s crystal door, and a moment later it slid free. A stiff breeze blew through the open door settling over Danielle and Arber.

  Fresh cool air washed over Danielle’s skin drying sweat in her hair and face. She experienced instant relief on a level she’d never dreamed possible. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the moment shutting out the figure standing outside the prison’s open doorway.

  The high-pitched whine marking Aren Broderick’s unwanted presence shattered Danielle’s brief respite. “On your feet.” His gaze flickered between Arber and Danielle. “The emperor wants to see both of you right now.”

  A Forest Find

  A thunderous groan preceded a loud crack that rang like a funeral toll across the Heartwood. The first tree, engulfed in flames, split near its center separating the upper limbs and branches from its thick root base. As the tree fell, a storm of smoke and embers blew upward sending an avalanche of ash and charred debris shooting skyward.

  Ronan’s mouth hung open too stunned to move. A cold numb sensation started at the base of his skull and spread along his spine creeping into his fingers and toes. At his side, his sheba blade hung still and limp.

  Rika loosed an earsplitting screech and glided in a semi-circle around the first tree’s wreckage. She tilted left arcing downward toward the forest floor three-hundred feet below.

  Dozens of Ayralen archers leaped from the falling tree’s fiery upper decks. Bloodcurdling screams rose above the first tree’s groans. Its human defenders fell into a tomb of black smoke and
ash a hundred feet below.

  Ronan sheathed his blade and raised his hand preparing spirit to shield the falling archers when the sky went black. Movement, swift and sudden, jerked Ronan’s body sideways ripping him off Rika’s back.

  Ronan’s shield flashed, and a spider’s web of glowing blue lines crisscrossed its outer shell. From the billows of smoke, a mid-sized dragon roared, streaming spirit magic from its ten-foot tail.

  The dragon arced lower disappearing into the churn of smoke and ash. Ronan plummeted, and the nauseating sensation of falling set his heart racing.

  Rika’s wings flapped in desperation, but she couldn’t overcome the dragon’s crushing blow. She fell a few feet to Ronan’s right while her shield pulsed with shades of white and blue like an earthquake’s aftershock.

  Ronan’s stomach lurched, and he twisted his body sideways trying to grab Rika’s extended talons. If he lost contact with her, he couldn’t shield her body from impact. His fingertips brushed her leg then slipped away before his hand closed on empty air.

  The gulf separating Ronan and Rika widened and filled with thick clouds of black smoke and ash.

  Ronan pushed layers of spirit around his body hoping to blunt the trauma of impact. He searched the surrounding smoke for Rika’s shield but would’ve had more luck staring through a stone wall. He channeled magic into his vision, but he couldn’t overcome thousands of tons of burning ash.

  Ronan gained speed as time itself slowed. At any moment, he’d hit the ground, and he braced himself for his second crash landing that month.

  Impact came without warning. Ronan’s shield burst into a radiant globe of blue and white energy shining like a beacon in the twist of burning limbs and branches. He bounced six-feet off the ground and craned his neck sideways searching for a flash of light marking Rika’s location.

  From what appeared ten miles away, a hazy flash of white energy blazed bright enough to mark Rika’s location.

  Ronan’s shield clattered and sizzled before resting against the embers of a fallen tree limb. His shield strained to protect his body from the orange coals glowing like a campfire under his backside. He felt his magic reserves drain under the relentless pressure.

  Ronan rolled sideways while keeping his gaze locked on Rika’s position. He stood and sharp pain flared in his lower back sending jolts of agony through his upper hamstring. He channeled Elan’s healing magic and quenched the pain. He prayed Rika’s shield withstood the dragon’s blow and a three-hundred foot fall, but he had serious doubts. If he could find her in time, he could heal her injuries.

  He staggered forward pushing aside burning limbs and bobbing globs of fiery leaves and fruit. White smoke curled from his shield, but the raw heat seeping through sent sweat rolling through his hair and down his face.

  Ten-feet ahead, a clear patch of ground revealed itself not far from Rika’s crash site.

  Ronan paused in the clearing and peered through the heavy smoke scanning a smoking pile of dead heartwood. Amid the blackened limbs, Rika’s dark leather armor would make too perfect camouflage.

  Rika’s silver boot buckle gleamed atop a blackened branch seeping white smoke from its ash covered bark. She’d lost her hawk’s form and lay motionless between two broken branches.

  A hard lump formed in Ronan’s throat, and he stumbled over a mountain of twisted branches until he stood six feet from Rika’s limp body.

  Rika lay high atop a mountain of deadwood. She appeared unconscious, and the shield surrounding her body had burned away.

  Ronan began climbing the pile of wreckage and froze.

  Beneath Rika, the limbs twisted and moved causing her body to jumble and slide inward. Flames licked the wreckage opposite Rika, and if her movement continued, she’d fall face first into the fire.

  Ronan froze, his gaze locked on the moving pile.

  Beneath the heartwood mountain, a pair of glittering sapphire eyes opened. A massive dragon’s head twisted to face Ronan. Smoke curled from flared nostrils at the end of a long ebony-scaled snout. It blinked and tilted its massive head staring at Ronan like some rare delicacy.

  A sharp pang of fear constricted Ronan’s chest and spiking adrenaline rushed through his muscles. On rubbery legs, he lifted a shaky palm toward Rika and channeled spirit surrounding her with a fresh shield. “I mean you no harm.” Despite his best effort, his voice shook as he spoke.

  Near the dragon’s head, a charred corpse lay face down with arms and legs splayed across uneven limbs and branches. A singed burlap robe worn by Obsith sorcerers clung like a second skin to a child-sized body. The riderless dragon showed no concern for the corpse and kept its gaze leveled on Ronan.

  Ronan’s gaze flickered toward Rika before settling on the dragon’s pure blue eyes. “I don’t want to trouble you. I just need to collect the woman lying atop your back. Then I’ll be on my way.”

  A heavy external force pressed against Ronan’s mind, and on instinct, he pushed back. He pulled in a ragged breath, and his eyes widened. The last time he’d experienced something so strange, he stood in Lora’s Garden speaking with her spirit.

  Ronan recalled Rika’s words about a dragon’s ability to communicate when they chose. He let go a sharp breath and decided to take a risk. The muscles in his shoulders tensed, and he closed his eyes before opening his mind.

  The mental push came again, softer, as if hesitating. Finding no resistance, the entity entered Ronan’s mind with the looming presence of a grand noble. Its baritone voice spoke in Ronan’s mind with clarity unlike any he’d ever experienced.

  “Why do you fear me human?” The dragon spoke in Ronan’s head. He lowered his gleaming black head until his gazed stood even with Ronan’s.

  Ronan’s toes curled, and goose bumps rose on his flesh. The voice felt alien and awkward like a person starting a conversation while standing an inch from his face. He pushed out a short hard breath and tried to stay calm. Pushing his thoughts outward he spoke. Ronan tipped his head toward Rika. “My lady friend is lying atop your back near that flame, and I’m afraid for her life.” As an afterthought he added, “and mine too.”

  The dragon’s eyes narrowed, and he cocked his head an inch to his right as if confused. “You say strange things for a being whose soul shines like the sun.”

  Ronan had heard enough about his bloody soul. “Please, I mean you no harm. I’ll collect my friend and leave you in peace.”

  The dragon opened its long ash streaked snout revealing three rows of gleaming white teeth. It shook its massive head and glared narrowing its eyes. “I’ll not let you have her human.”

  Ronan froze and leaned away from the dragon’s overpowering stare. He channeled both enhancement and shield magic increasing his strength and physical protection. He thickened the shield already surrounding his body giving it enough resistance to stop a pack of angry saber cats. In a blur of motion, he pulled free the sheba blade strapped to his back. Crimson light filled the darkness and reflected from the magnificent dragon's gleaming black scales.

  As Ronan brought forth his blade, the dragon lowered its neck and closed its sapphire eyes. With a guttural scream he sent his blade downward in a streak of glowing red death. An overpowering sense of wrongness settled over him like a smothering blanket. He froze his blade a hair’s breadth from the dragon’s neck.

  The dragon cracked its right eye open revealing a thin sliver of its ocean blue eyes. “Kill me!”

  Ronan stiffened as if slapped. A thin layer of sweat and ashen grime coated the back of his shaking hands. His body screamed for him to finish the beast and take Rika. But, a kernel of doubt festered like one of the thousands of burning embers dotting the forest floor.

  “I’m begging you. Kill me and take her. I’ll not harm you.” The dragon’s words came desperate and haunting.

  Ronan released the power flowing through his blade and sheathed it. “Why should I kill you?”

  “I’ve destroyed your forest and killed your people. I’ve earned the right to a qu
ick death.”

  Ronan shook his head. “I’ll not kill you outright. I’m not a butcher.” He slipped past the dragon’s head and climbed atop the heavy limbs and branches that buried its body inside a heartwood coffin.

  As Ronan moved past its snout, the dragon made no move to strike or lash out. It twisted its neck following Ronan’s movement up the wreckage until he reached Rika.

  Ronan knelt and scooped up Rika as if she weighed no more than a child. He placed two fingers against her neck and felt a strong steady pulse. As a precaution, he channeled flows of white magic and wrapped them over her body repairing any lingering injury.

  A low groan escaped her throat, and her lips parted as if to speak.

  Ronan moved backward easing down the twisted wreckage until he stood near the dragon’s head. He knelt handling Rika like a piece of his grandmother’s fine white porcelain stretching her out on the ground. He slipped free his jacket, folded it into a neat square, and slipped it beneath Rika’s head. With a wave of his wrist he strengthened the shield surrounding her and bent brushing her lips with his. “Rest for a minute my love. You’ve taken a hard fall.”

  “I’m broken human. Please finish me. Don’t make me grovel,” the dragon said.

  Ronan stood and faced the beast, but the fear he’d felt a moment ago evaporated. “Is that your master?” Ronan nodded toward the sorcerer’s charred corpse.

  The dragon’s eyes narrowed, and he bore his jagged teeth. “I greeted his death with joy in my heart. If I could do the same to his brethren, I would, no matter the price.”

  “What’s your name?” Ronan said.

  “You don’t need my name to end my life,” the dragon said. “Enough chatter. Use your blade and end this.”

  Ronan tipped his head in greeting and slid the backpack from his shoulder. “My name’s Ronan Latimer, and if I’m to kill you, I should know your name at the very least.”

  The dragon’s brow furrowed with annoyance. “I’m called Thoth by my kind.”