Soul Siphon: Set includes four books: Midnight Blade, Kingsbane, Ash and Steel, Sentinels of the Stone (Soul Stones)

by T. L. Branson

  With no opposition coming, Drygo swung his great sword and separated the King of Havan’s head from his shoulders. Drygo caught the diamond as it fell from Rommel’s hand. The man’s body slumped to the floor, head rolling to a rest beneath Drygo’s feet.

  Drygo turned to face his men. Callum alone stood, two of his royal guard lay dead, the others gravely wounded.

  “You’re hurt,” the king said to Callum, seeing the red line at the base of his neck.

  “No, Your Majesty. He was but a novice,” Callum said, indicating the dead boy at his feet. “It’s only a scratch.”

  The attack ended as quickly as it had begun. When word spread that their king was dead, the soldiers of Havan quickly laid down their weapons.

  Callum approached Drygo after a thorough search of the keep.

  “Report,” Drygo said.

  “We only lost ten soldiers in the attack, sire, not including your personal guard. Four hundred of Havan’s own men lie dead and another two thousand have sworn fealty to you,” Callum said. “The city is ours, and with it, the whole country.”

  ***

  On the ninth day since the attack on Sunbury, Drygo stood at the top of the escarpment looking down on his city. As it was still morning, the city lay in the shadow of the cliff, the sun not yet high enough in the sky.

  Over half of the buildings had been reduced to rubble. The city would need to be rebuilt. Drygo determined never to forget this horrible attack by renaming the city. He would name the city Shadowhold, both for its physical attributes and as a personal reminder that he’d hold on to the shadow of the way things were before the attack. Before his wife…

  He turned his head, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and descended down the escarpment. Walking into the city, he stepped over crumbled stone and splintered wood. The stench of decay permeated every inch of the city. Carrion birds flew into the air as Drygo approached. Many weeks and months of rebuilding lay ahead for the people of Shadowhold.

  Callum led the way back to the palace, keeping an eye out for any stowaways who might have hidden, seeking the opportune time to strike. But that time didn’t come.

  Drygo returned to his study, sat down in his chair, and pulled the diamond from his pocket. The bouquet had turned as black as death itself, the leftover food covered in flies and filth. Only the pink bow remained unchanged, as timeless as his love. He picked up the bow, breathed in its scent, and set it back on the desk.

  He stared at the diamond, watching it writhe and swirl beneath the surface. He rubbed it gently, with care.

  “I’m sorry,” Callum said from behind him. “Sorry that she’s dead.”

  Drygo did not shift his gaze from the diamond.

  No, he thought. Not dead. Stuck. Stuck in this infernal stone.

  Drygo had sought it out, the Soul Siphon, a legendary soul stone imbued with the power of the gods, to save his wife from her illness. As she lay on her deathbed, the queen allowed the stone to take her soul, preserving her life inside.

  Now, the king could not reverse it. His power could not pull her out. But there was a stone that could, the Soul Render, and he would stop at nothing to find it, unlock its power, and save his queen.

  SENTINELS OF THE STONE

  CHAPTER I

  An explosion shook Haerford Castle.

  Riley screamed and covered her head with her arms. She didn’t know what was going on. One minute she was having tea with her friend Lexi Campbell, the next she’s being dragged off to her room and locked inside.

  “It’s for your protection,” her mother said.

  When Riley asked what was going on, she couldn’t get a straight answer. She demanded that the guards answer her, but no one listened to a twelve-year-old. At least not once the queen had overruled her.

  One day, Riley would make sure no one questioned her or ignored her orders.

  Another blast sounded in the distance and the walls vibrated. A loud crash echoed through the room.

  Riley let out another scream and dived under the little desk where she did her schoolwork. Peeking out from behind her long golden locks, Riley spied a splintered frame housing a portrait of her late grandmother lying on the ground.

  Perhaps she wasn’t ready to give orders yet. Not when a painting shook her nerves. Her mother was so strong. She hadn’t shown even an ounce of fear as she ushered Riley to safety and gave orders for her royal sentinels to secure the castle.

  Yes, one day Riley would be strong like her mother—but another explosion reminded her that today was not that day.

  The door slammed open and Riley jumped, banging her head on the desk. She winced and let out a muffled cry.

  “What are you doing down there?” Riley’s mother said as she entered the room. “My poor darling. Come here.”

  Riley crawled out from her hiding place and ran into her mother’s outstretched arms.

  “There, there,” her mother said. “You’re going to be all right.”

  “Momma?” she asked. “What’s going on?” Riley pushed herself away from the queen of Berxley and crossed her arms, pursing her lips. “And tell it to me straight. I can handle it.”

  The queen’s face grew stern and she let out a deep sigh. “We’re under attack from Shadowhold.”

  “But why?” Riley asked, having figured as much from the explosions.

  “Because Alexander Drygo,” the queen said, pausing as she looked absently upward, “is a single-minded man who cannot be reasoned with. He would not take no for an answer, so he decided to get his way by force.”

  “He’s not a very nice king,” Riley stated.

  The queen chuckled. “No, he’s not very nice at all. Though he once was. Grief has a way of changing the heart of a man. Remember that, Riley. Grief is a powerful motivator and your worst enemy. Do not let it rule your heart.”

  Her mother sighed again. “Sweetheart, I need you to be brave now.”

  Riley straightened her back and clenched her jaw.

  “There’s a good girl,” the queen said. She pulled something from her pocket, placed it into Riley’s hand, and closed her fingers around it. “I need you to keep this safe. At all costs. Don’t let it out of your sight, you hear me?”

  Riley nodded.

  Her mother smiled and pulled her in tight for a hug.

  Another blast shook the castle.

  Riley didn’t scream this time. Not with her mother there. In the arms of her mother, she felt as if all the world would soon be put right.

  “My queen,” one of the sentinels said.

  He was a large man, strong and muscular, carrying the largest swordstaff Riley had ever seen. The man often protected her when she left the castle, though she didn’t know his name.

  “They’ve almost breached the keep. You must go,” the sentinel said.

  The queen didn’t turn to acknowledge him; she just stared forward at Riley as if it might be her last.

  “Momma?” Riley asked.

  “Be brave, my daughter,” the queen said, standing. She turned to the sentinel and said, “Take care of her.”

  “With my life,” the man said, bringing his fist to his chest.

  “You know where to go,” she said.

  The sentinel nodded.

  As the queen walked away, she turned and said to Riley, “Remember: Be brave, and do not grieve.”

  “Momma!” Riley shouted and ran after her.

  Big, strong arms reached down and held her back as the queen disappeared from sight.

  “Momma, no!” Riley cried out. She sobbed in the sentinel’s arms. Though the queen wouldn’t say it, Riley somehow knew she wouldn’t see her mother again.

  She fought against the sentinel’s muscled arms, but when they didn’t slacken, Riley gave in and sagged in resignation. The sentinel stood her upright and beckoned her to follow him.

  He led Riley through the castle, down darkened stone hallways with torchlight flickering on the walls. Large green and gold tapestries, showcasing Berxley’s
colors, hung from the ceiling. They passed through the central hall, past the many portraits of Haerford queens going back fifteen generations.

  All her life Riley expected that one day her portrait would join them. That future grew more and more bleak with each passing second.

  With her mother gone, fear crept up within her. Her breath caught in her chest and she struggled to breathe. She stopped and the sentinel turned to look at her. She stood with her back against the wall, her chest heaving beneath her royal gown. She hadn’t had time to change before they left.

  “What’s wrong?” the sentinel asked.

  “What’s going to happen to my mother?” Riley asked.

  He frowned and said, “Nothing is certain.”

  “And what about Lexi?” Riley asked.

  “What about her?” he replied.

  “Is she… safe?” Riley pressed.

  “The queen ordered all nonessential staff to evacuate prior to sealing the keep,” he explained. “Lexi and her family should be fine.”

  The pressure in her chest eased somewhat and her breath steadied.

  “Can you keep going?” the man asked. “We have to get out of here before the keep…” The sentinel paused. “We just need to get out of here.”

  Riley wiped a tear from her eye and nodded. She would be brave. She would be strong. For her mother. Riley nodded at the sentinel.

  He turned and led her to a tall painting of her great-great-grandmother, a woman named Mona. Nobody had really cared for her. Her portrait was an ugly thing, a testament to the artist’s lack of interest. She wasn’t evil, but neither was she particularly endearing. She and the people of Berxley tolerated each other.

  Or so Riley was told. Riley had never met the woman. She died some time ago.

  The sentinel ran his hand along the back of the portrait’s frame. Something clicked and the portrait swung toward them.

  Riley gasped in surprise.

  A dark corridor stretched out before them. Riley’s jaw hung open, eyes wide. She hadn’t known this existed. No one ever bothered to move the old portrait. No one dared. Some even said that to look at the eyes of Mona would make a person go insane.

  It was all rubbish of course, Riley knew that, but most everyone else looked the other way as they passed or increased their pace so as to quickly get out of her sight.

  Now Riley wondered if the rumors had been started intentionally to draw attention away from this passage. Whatever the truth may be, she was thankful for it.

  The sentinel lit a torch that hung just inside the corridor and led them down through the darkness. The stone walls of the castle receded and gave way to dirt mixed with rocks of varying sizes. With it went the warmth of the castle. A chill coursed through Riley’s bones. She shivered and wrapped her arms around her shoulders.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “It’s not much farther,” the sentinel said.

  They continued on for another minute and then the tunnel ended. Riley stood on a small outcropping overlooking the ocean. The light of the setting sun cast splashes of red across the sky and the ocean sparkled with the lapping of the waves against the base of the cliff.

  Directly above them loomed the walls of Haerford Castle, her home, sitting at the edge of the cliff on a peninsula jutting out from the mainland. There was only one way in and one way out. At least that’s what she thought until now.

  Riley stood captivated by the scene as the sentinel proceeded down a set of steps carved out of the cliffside.

  “Come on,” he called back to her.

  Riley nodded and followed after him.

  At the bottom of the steps sat a small, one-man sailing vessel moored to a single dock. It rocked gently in the water, in stark contract to the events unfolding in the castle above.

  The echo of an explosion soared down the cliff followed by a large chunk of the stone wall. It plunged into the water with great force, emitting a tall plume of spray in its wake.

  Riley let out a squeal of fright and jumped into the boat.

  “Let’s go, please,” Riley said, huddling into a corner at the back of the boat.

  The sentinel dipped his head and raced about the boat, preparing it for departure. As he untied the boat from the dock it lurched free, wind filling the sails.

  They sailed away, leaving everything Riley knew behind. All she had of her home was a gift her mother entrusted to her in their final moments together.

  Riley lifted the brown cloth and opened it. A deep blue stone stared back at her. It glowed and something beneath its surface swirled and writhed with life. Across its face was etched a rising sun, symbol of the goddess Lotess.

  She’d never seen anything like it in her life. What was this mysterious stone? And why had her mother told her to guard it with her life? What was so special about it?

  Shouts erupted in the distance.

  Riley’s attention snapped up from the stone. A sleek balinger raced toward them. On its deck, men ran about at a frantic pace.

  Riley gasped and ran to the sentinel’s side.

  “We’ve got to go inland,” he said more to himself than to Riley. “We can’t outrun them at sea.”

  The boat cut to the south, away from the balinger, and aimed for the shore. The balinger continued closing. With each second that passed, the shore seemed farther away and the balinger closer.

  They were still five hundred feet out and the balinger was right on their tail.

  Four hundred and the prow of the balinger cast a shadow over their sailboat.

  Two hundred and a huge wooden maiden drifted above their heads.

  One hundred and the balinger rammed into them, pushing them off course and back to the north.

  The sailboat ran ashore. The balinger, not able to stop, plowed in behind them, digging up huge ruts in the sand and toppling the sailboat onto its side. Riley and the sentinel spilled out onto the beach.

  The sentinel jumped up and assisted Riley to her feet. He held her hand tight and pulled as they ran up the beach and into the woods. Shouts grew louder behind them as the enemy’s men spilled from their own vessel and gave chase.

  They ran through the forest, pushing aside growth and underbrush as they ran. A thorn dug into Riley’s arm and tore the right shoulder off her gown. She hissed in pain, but the sentinel would not stop.

  They emerged from the forest into a clearing. A clearing filled with enemy soldiers.

  One of them, a decorated man who gave off the aura of great importance, sat upon a magnificent horse. He looked at the sentinel and said, “Ocken.” His gaze shifted to Riley. “And the young princess.” He smiled a decidedly malicious smile. “What a pleasant surprise.”

  CHAPTER II

  “Callum,” the sentinel—Ocken—stated flatly.

  “That’s Grand Marshal to you, traitor,” Callum spat with venom as he hopped from his steed and moved toward them.

  Ocken stepped in front of Riley, providing her a measure of protection.

  Despite his efforts, Riley had never been more scared in her life than she was at this moment. Nothing like this ever happened at Berxley. Nobody had any quarrels with them. Ever. And the Haerford queens kept to themselves. They didn’t butt into politics or domestic disputes, they didn’t enact embargos, and they didn’t grant asylum to fugitives.

  There wasn’t a reason in the world as to why King Alexander Drygo would invade their kingdom. Not a reason at all—until Riley remembered the stone still clutched in her hand.

  She tried to put her hands behind her back without drawing attention.

  “What do you have there?” Callum asked.

  “Excuse me?” Ocken replied.

  “I’m not talking to you,” Callum said. He turned back to Riley. “What are you hiding behind your back?”

  “N-nothing,” Riley stuttered.

  One of Callum’s men came up from behind and grabbed Riley’s arm. She screamed. The man ripped the brown cloth from her hand and pulled out the gem.
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  Ocken spun to attack the man, but he was already out of reach. He shoved Riley back into Ocken’s arms and turned to Callum. The man tossed the stone to the grand marshal and returned to his spot among the ranks.

  Callum caught it and turned it over in his hand.

  “The Soul Render,” he said with a laugh. “King Drygo will be pleased.” Callum glanced up at the castle, revealing their king’s position.

  Ocken’s fist clenched at his side, but he said nothing.

  “You’re an even greater traitor than I thought,” Callum said, lifting his eyes from the stone. “Your friend, the one who you saved from a life on the streets, nay, spared you from death, is desperately seeking this stone and what do you do?” Callum shook his head. “You find it first and then keep it from him.”

  “He’s not well,” Ocken said through clenched teeth. “He’s not been well since before Evie died.”

  “You’ve no right to speak of my queen so casually,” Callum said, his voice rising.

  Ocken ignored him and turned to speak to Callum’s men. “Surely you all have noticed. The violent temper, the lack of mercy, this single-minded determination to crush everything that stands in the way of what he wants,” Ocken said, thrusting an arm out toward the castle, which rocked with another explosion as if on cue.

  As Ocken’s eyes met those of the gathered soldiers, some turned away in shame, others grew more determined and resilient.

  “He is our king!” Callum roared. “And he is my friend. I thought you were our friend as well, but it would not appear so.” Callum looked to a man at his side. “Seize them.”

  Before the soldier could move the ground shook beneath their feet and a great roar reverberated around them. The cliff and the castle broke free from the peninsula and fell away into the ocean below.

  “No!” Riley screamed and rushed forward, stretching out her arm as if to reach out and save her mother from certain death.

  Shock and confusion erupted in the crowd.

  Ocken wasted no time. He shoulder-slammed Callum, knocking him to the ground. The stone soared into the air. Ocken snatched it and mounted Callum’s horse. The source of their confusion shifted to Ocken, but they were recovering quickly.