Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Book Description
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Thank you!
Acknowledgements
Wayward Hope, Book Two of the Wayward Gods Trilogy
By L.D. Greenwood
Copyright © by L.D. Greenwood.
All rights reserved.
Reproduction in whole or part of this publication without written consent is strictly prohibited.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of my imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
I greatly appreciate you taking the time to read my work. Please consider leaving a review wherever you bought the book, or telling your friends about it, to help spread the word.
Thank you for supporting me.
To the real Ellie. Love you, Momma.
Wayward Hope
Book Two in the Wayward Gods Trilogy
Written by L.D. Greenwood
Even gods make mistakes.
I managed to stop Drekvic and keep the realities safe, but unless I figure out how to actually be a goddess, they won’t stay that way. The realities are blending together and if Fate can’t show me how to connect to the balance, it’s only going to get worse.
It doesn’t help that Rakshina’s past love is on a hunt for revenge against my new roommate, and has somehow managed to turn ghosts into powerful shades that can affect the first reality. As the world falls apart around me, do I really have time to be entertaining these feelings for Chester? Love has no place in my life while I’m trying to save the world.
CHAPTER ONE
Hot air tickled my nose and I stifled a sneeze. Spring was around the corner, but it was still chilly outside, and the residents of the city had their heaters turned up too high. I ran a hand over my damp forehead. It was too hot to be wearing a sweater, but I wanted protection from the splintering wood in the attic I was asked to visit. I’d already cut my finger climbing the ladder, and I didn’t want to worry about any other minor injuries.
The space was larger than I had imagined, overcrowded with large boxes draped in sheets. The smell of mold and damp was overpowering, and I stepped carefully through the maze of items, worried about falling through the floor. Newspapers were stacked in damp piles by the wall, tied together with string; I pretended not to notice the mouse that was chewing its way through the daily mail section.
The antiques dealer always sent her son up when she needed things, afraid to climb the ladder herself; she claimed there was a ghost. I wondered if she’d opened the antique shop as an excuse to hoard things, as the attic was so full I was worried that the piles would fall over if I brushed against them.
Learning that I was interested in paranormal activity, the woman’s son had written to tell me about a violent ghost. Ghosts couldn’t harm anyone physically, but their energy could make magic backfire, and if it was agitated or emotional, plants and animals would feel it, too. The owner’s cat wouldn’t leave the first floor.
“This place is a dump,” my partner said, his voice far away.
I turned to see his black hair disappear under a dusty sheet as he looked around the room. I sighed, wondering if I’d ever be rid of him.
“It’s an attic in an old antique shop. What did you expect?” I asked, grabbing the back of his jacket to pull him away before he stole something.
I didn’t trust Drekvic. I’d begrudgingly allowed him to become my partner after Fate, his mother and a former goddess, had cursed him to follow me. He couldn’t go more than a mile away from me without feeling extreme pain, and it was easier to keep the retired siekewa around than to let him roam free. Besides—and I wouldn’t admit it—he had a knack for sensing distorted energy, a talent he had acquired in his soul bargaining days.
Sadly, Drekvic wasn’t my only shadow. I also had to deal with Chester, the soul collector I had stupidly developed feelings for after stopping Drekvic from destroying the world. Things were a bit… complicated at the moment. Chester was looking out the slanted window, absently playing with the shell earring I’d given him. After two straight weeks of practice, I’d managed to make a communication device that would allow me to hear him through the first gate, even if I couldn’t interact with him. I reached up to touch my matching earring and looked away, blushing.
Chester lived in the spirit world. He was assigned to watch me four months ago when I went to save my sister. Fate had never reassigned him, so he continued to follow me, even in my own reality. Talking to him required me to open one of the gates between reality and the first in-between plane, which was exhausting. The shell acted like a miniature gate, but just for sound.
It had been Joy’s idea. She was my third shadow, a soul converted into a powerful energy source called a cairn. She lived in an opal-like stone on my right hand. She was part of me, the only reason I could continue to do what I did: free ghosts from their prisons to move on to the Beyond.
It wasn’t a glamorous job, and it certainly didn’t pay the bills, but I dedicated all my free time to making sure no souls would spend an eternity lost.
I put my hands on my hips, looking around. Our path from the trapdoor was marked with footprints in dust an inch thick. It was too dingy, the windows fogged with age, and I couldn’t sense any spirits, much less the young boy allegedly tormenting the shop owner. Most ghosts didn’t travel from their place of death, and my research hadn’t turned up any obituaries or news articles from the area. That didn’t really mean anything though; the boy could have died before the area was developed. Ghosts didn’t have expiration dates.
“I don’t see him,” I said to Drekvic, and he stopped snooping to look at me.
“He’s a ghost. You’re not supposed to see him,” he scoffed.
I glared at him and he raised his hands to placate me.
“What’s going on?” Chester asked in my ear. I sent a hint of Joy’s power to the shell.
“We can’t find the ghost,” I replied. Chester moved from the window, sinking through the floor to check other rooms of the shop. It was unnerving to see, and I had to remind myself that he technically existed elsewhere.
“I hate when he does that,” Drekvic muttered. We followed our tracks back toward the ladder when a large stack of old radios fell into the space where Chester had been standing. The crash was loud and sent electronic pieces scattering across the floor.
My heartbeat banged against my eardrums, and I swallowed the tightness in my throat. Ghosts couldn’t interact with reality, shouldn’t be able to make a mess. I still couldn’t see anything, but Joy tapped on my thoughts to get my attention.
There’s a dark shadow in the corner. It’s not a ghost.
I turned, an ominous presence making itself known.
“Get back,” Drekvic said when he came to join me. His hand reached out and he placed himself between the shadow and me. “It’s a cast off.”
An old lamp, solid silver and at least thirty pounds, flew from a nearby pile, hitting Drekvic’s shoulder with a loud thud. He grunted as it fell to the floor, the bulb shattering and the clank drawing Chester back upstairs.
“Get out of there, Ellie,” he said, and I could almost feel the heat of him next to me. I could tell he wanted to grab me, but he’d just pass through me, no more solid than the ghost I was chasing.
“What’s a cast off?” I demanded, my voice rising in pitch as I pulled power from the sapphire ring on my right hand.
There was a loud scraping noise and a sofa tucked behind some boxes dragged itself from the wall and started flying toward us. I threw up my power, staggering with the effort it took to block its progress.
The darkness in the corner flickered as it slowly took shape. The boy was so small, with dark hair and sinister red eyes that seemed to glow in the shadows around him. His mouth was open in a snarl, his sharp teeth a startling white. The sweltering heat drained from the attic as he raised his hands.
The shock of cold air forced a choked cough out of me. Drekvic stepped backwards, running into me as the sofa lurched forward again. I threw up my hand, but it was too late. We fell forward onto the cushions as it knocked into us, my elbow digging into his stomach as we landed.
He grunted, but we had little chance to react before the sofa hurtled toward the wall with us still on it. The thing was going to throw us right through.
“No!” I shouted, throwing my magic into it. “That’s enough.”
My concentration stayed steady as the sofa hurtled to a stop, launching us ungracefully onto the dusty wood of the attic floor. Drekvic landed on top of me, knocking the wind out of me. His face was pressed against my thigh, and I kicked him as I scrambled to my feet, untangling our limbs.
Cursing, he rolled away, but I’d already stood up to face the snarling shade. My hands glowed with sapphire light, illuminating the musty space.
“Ellie!” Chester shouted, clearly agitated.
I ignored him, focusing all my energy on the boy. I reached out with my magic, trying to sense what he was, and felt the swirling power inside of him. It was all shards of broken glass, rubbing together painfully.
“He’s a siekewa’s cast off,” Chester said, clearly not liking being ignored. “It’s too strong for you to collect right now. Come back later.”
“I can’t,” I replied, taking a step forward.
The boy growled and turned toward the wall as though he was going to disappear through it.
Joy! I shouted to her, and she threw out her cage. The boy ran into it and fell backwards. He could no longer leave the attic—and neither could we.
I can hold him, she told me, the silvery glow of her power lighting up the boy’s thin form.
He was so skinny that I could clearly see the outline of his bones under his skin. Would my sister have been like this boy, if I hadn’t saved her? I took another step forward, trying to fill myself with as much compassion and understanding as I could.
The boy’s eyes were sparking with anger. He tried to throw me backward with a rush of oily energy, but I deflected it easily. Now that I could see him, he wouldn’t catch me off guard again. He got more desperate with every step I took, throwing pieces of furniture and various knick-knacks at me again.
I deflected those as well, not worrying about the damage. The woman downstairs had already lost enough to this shade; I wasn’t going to worry about the last pieces of junk that she had left up here with it. I could see him starting to panic, his eyes getting wider as he scrambled backwards.
As I moved, Joy’s cage became smaller and smaller, until I was close enough to touch him and her magic circled us like a cocoon.
I knelt down and put a hand on his shoulder. He was glacial, making my hand seize up, but I didn’t let go.
Infusing my voice with power, I spoke the only words that I thought would reach him with as much compassion and empathy as I could.
“No one is going to hurt you ever again.”
I looked into his eyes, watching the red fade into a luscious ebony. His skin was the color of volcanic soil, shining in the light of Joy’s magic. His lower lip started to tremble as tears trickled from the corner of his eyes.
I pulled more magic from my sapphire ring, creating heat to warm the poor child. It sank deep into his soul, melting the shards of ice that had torn him to pieces for so long. His skin started to heat up, his cheeks taking on a hint of rouge. He started sobbing, burying his face in his hands as he cried.
I wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him until he was sitting in my lap, warming him further. He was so light, all skin and bones. I stroked his unruly hair and rocked him until all the darkness was gone. He didn’t hug me like a normal child would, so used to not having someone to count on. I kissed his forehead, wishing I could take away his pain.
I sensed the moment he moved away from me, accepting his death. His body became faint in my arms, only a gentle warmth remaining from his touch.
Joy dropped her shields and Chester moved forward. In moments, he had pulled the boy from me, fading slowly as he ferried him to the Beyond.
I remained sitting and sniffed. I’d never dealt with a broken soul before. I never wanted to do it again.
Drekvic dropped down next to me. Despite being free of his dark powers, I still smelled a hint of ash clinging to his skin. He looked thoughtful, his hazel eyes catching the light from the window. He had a faint bruise on his jaw, probably from where I’d kicked him, or, maybe the lamp.
“Are you okay?” I asked, feeling that I should.
“I don’t like this.” His brow furrowed while I waited for him to elaborate.
“The soul had too much energy left. I don’t understand why a siekewa would have let it go.” He leaned back on his hands, and I turned so I could see him better.
“What does that mean? Should we be worried?” I asked, noticing he had taken extra care to lightly gel his hair into a simple, casual style that accented his angular face.
“I don’t know yet.”
He stood up and wiped his grimy hands on his black jeans, frowning at the smears. I paused, gathering my emotions before standing myself. I didn’t like the idea of a siekewa getting involved in my work, but considering they bartered souls for power, it was likely that I would have to deal with more in the future.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said, kicking a loose battery on my way back toward the ladder. I was eager to get home and wash away the muck.
CHAPTER TWO
The scratch of my pen was the only sound as I stood at the table making notes. The Victorian-style house I called home was built in the 1990s and had an old, cozy feel to it. My office was on the first floor, books lining the walls around the main feature, my raised table that took up most of the room. I did most of my work there, and it was the only place in the house I’d managed to ban Drekvic from entering.
I drew another interlace pattern, this time in a dark teal color. I’d been working on them for months, so the design came easily: a star with five-points, looping in and around itself. It was simple, often used in Celtic magic. For a believer, the symbol had power, but for me, it was a form that worked well for the magic I was trying to perform.
Each pointed end represented one of the primary colors, with the fifth point representing the absence of color. The thought was that depending on the person, their addiction patterns would follow a certain color, and by bonding their color with my interlace, I could unravel it, thus unraveling their compulsive tendencies.
I had originally tried using just one color, but quickly found that it didn’t work--souls were more complicated than a color wheel. By changing the colors to match the soul, I was better able to adjust to their needs. The outline needed to be in a color opposite to their needs and the test rat I was working with in the lab had a very tan soul. Thus, the teal pen.
I saw a shadow in the doorway and looked up, frowning. I really didn’t want any vis
itors, but it was just Joy, her silvery form insubstantial.
I watched her, still getting used to the fact that I could sometimes see her now. I set the pen down and absently twisted her opal ring around on my finger. It glowed faintly as she used her magic to take form outside the cairn.
“I wanted to talk to you,” she said, her silver lashes low on her cheeks as she looked at the patterns on the rug. She rarely met my eyes, and I wondered if it was because she knew it bothered me.
In this form, her eyes were pale white with no pupils. It made me flinch the first time we had tried this, and even though I told her it was only surprise, she tried to make me more comfortable having another soul inside my skull.
“What about?” I asked, looking back down at my pattern. It was smudged. I grimaced, making a large mark across it, knowing I’d need to start again.
“The soul we met today,” Joy said, leaning to look at what I was working on. She saw the smear and my new mark and frowned. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I replied, sighing. “It’s probably another dead end anyway.”
“You’ll figure it out.”
“What about the soul?” I asked, setting the pen down again as I leaned my hip on the table and tried to not pick at the bandage covering my splinter.
“Drekvic said it was a cast off, but I think he was wrong.”
“Oh?”
“The soul was very strong, and very angry. Ghosts shouldn’t be able to interact with this world physically, even if they are cast offs.” She tapped her cheek, looking thoughtful. While she spoke, she forgot to hide her face, and I smiled at the look of consternation that made her brows furrow. Joy had the most expressive face.
“You think he was something else?”
“I think he was a calling card,” Joy said, biting her lip. “I think a siekewa left him there for you, so you would find him.”
“What?” I asked, jerking my head up as my stomach flipped over.
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