THE ABSENCE OF SOUL (SOCIETY'S SOUL Book 1)

by Amanda Twigg

  “Not normal at all.” He reached for the ceremonial sword sheathed on his chest. “Stay here, Hux.”

  “Thisk!” she called, as he turned to climb down.

  “Yes?”

  She groped for a warning, but her visons weren’t welcome. He’d made that clear. “Be careful.” She’d never felt more like a coward.

  “Did you… Do you know something?”

  “Just be careful.”

  He clambered out of sight, and the wind sounded louder in his absence. Landra dithered at the shaft’s entrance to peek over the edge. The Warrior’s blue aura-light shifted in the gloom below.

  Shelk, Thisk! I can’t leave you to face this alone.

  Before the thought completed, her boots were on the ladder and she was heading down.

  “Citizen,” Thisk growled, and she heard rebuke in his tone. “Pull the trap and bolt it behind you.”

  The wooden panel fell into place and all light fled, leaving a darkness she knew was wrong.

  She fumbled the locking ring into position then followed Thisk’s blue aura to the bottom rung. Her boots settled on the midlevel, and she was home.

  “Where are the emergency lights?” she whispered.

  “Don’t know.”

  Wariness trickled red shades into the Warrior’s aura, similar to the ones he’d displayed in the remote lands. What had seemed appropriate for confronting hunting beasts was enough to loosen her bowels here in Hux Hall.

  “Draw your sword,” Thisk whispered.

  “Not my knife?”

  “Gods of the mist, no. We don’t know who’s out there.”

  Shouldn’t Father be out there and the hall guard? Who are you expecting to find? Not Templers, I bet.

  She eased her blade free as he cracked open the door. Solid blackness endured and continued into the corridor. She waited for a rush of warmth to touch her cheeks, but the iciness of Hux Hall offered nothing.

  “We’ve been invaded,” she whispered, relieved to share what she knew at last.

  Thisk stilled, and Landra didn’t want to guess what he was thinking.

  “Stand behind me,” he said.

  As she hunkered behind his broad frame, he kicked the door wide and stepped out with his sword raised.

  “Halt and identify yourself,” a panicked voice challenged.

  Bright flares in Thisk’s aura signaled battle readiness, but Landra recognized the challenging tones. They belonged to a familiar member of the Hux Hall guard, who had a crimped blue aura.

  “Wait, Thisk,” she said, stilling the Warrior’s arm. “That’s a three-bar in Father’s guard.”

  “You sure?”

  “Sure. That’s Hyana’s voice.”

  She felt Thisk’s chest heave before he spoke again.

  “Who’s in there? This is Ranger Warrior Fourth Thisk. Report, soldier. Why have I been stopped?”

  Hyana approached the doorway and pulled out a hand lamp. A bubble of yellow brightness captured the soldiers’ forms. Three more battle-armored guards stood firm at Hyana’s back with their swords raised.

  “Thisk?” Hyana queried.

  The Warrior ranger edged forward.

  “It is you, Fourth, sir,” Hyana said with relief. “We thought you were lost, man. Do you have the Hux girl?”

  Landra started forward, but Thisk swatted her back.

  “The child is safe.”

  A cycle ago, Landra would have fumed at the Warrior’s insult. She understood his ways better now, but, no, even after all they’d been through together, she bristled at him naming her a child. She’d endured enough in the remote lands to demand more respect.

  “What the shelk is going on?” Thisk demanded.

  “Hux Hall was attacked sir. They came in through the shaft. Were over us before we knew it.”

  “Who attacked?”

  “Templers is the word, sir. I wasn’t here myself, but Vesi saw ‘em wearing robes. Once the hall guard woke up, the shelking buggers ran like rats from a flood. Did a powerful lot of damage first, though. We’re going to be clearing for days, even when the power’s back on.”

  “Where are the raiders now? In prison?”

  “No, sir. They melted like ghosts and took their injured with them.”

  “Any of our soldiers hurt?”

  Landra held her breath, waiting for the answer. She’d planned to harden to trouble, but her world had just shifted beyond recognition.

  “Some,” Hyana said. “Seemed like they wanted mischief more than killing. They came through the shaft from below, hacking off power roots on their way up. Chief won’t let any Templers back in to fix the problem, so we’ll not have lights anytime soon.”

  “And our people?” Thisk insisted, a growl in his voice.

  “Yes, well, there was a scuffle in the stateroom, and the chief took a knock. I think they went after him in particular. Baylem went crazy and took them all on without help until a couple of cadets got called in. There’s no word on her or the lads yet. We were left here to guard what’s left, sir, with special instructions to look out for you and the Hux girl.”

  “Lads? Was Dannet there?” Landra asked. She was so panicked she nearly gave away her vision and asked who had died.

  “I didn’t get told details,” Hyana said, “but I’m sure he’s fine. I saw him leave with the others.”

  Not Dannet. That’s good, but who? She didn’t dare let herself think about it.

  “Where’s the chief now?” Thisk demanded.

  “Warrior Hall, sir. Said it could be secured better. I’m supposed to take you there. Sorry about the challenge before. Thought you’d arrive through the front door, and we’re all on edge.”

  “Don’t be sorry for doing your duty, Hyana. Take us to the chief now.”

  “It’ll be a march, sir. There’s battle armor in the guard room, and a detail will take you.”

  “Changing can wait. My conversation with the chief is long overdue.”

  “Might not be safe, sir. I can’t guarantee your safety if you march through the base in ranger getup. It’s bound to cause a stir.”

  “I’ll take the chance.”

  “Groke, Fen, take up shaft guard positions,” Hyana ordered. “This way, sir.” He gestured toward Thisk.

  The Warrior sheathed his sword and reached for Landra. “Come on.”

  She’d listened to the conversation with building despair and couldn’t think of her father or Baylem’s smiling face without descending into guilt-ridden anguish.

  Thisk tugged her to his side and gripped her collar possessively.

  “Did I cause this?” she asked. “Is this retaliation for what I did in the temple?”

  “Probably not,” he whispered next to her ear. “It’s more likely my fault. Don’t say anything until we know more. Admit nothing.”

  They stepped out of the shaft into the swell of light from the guard’s hand lamp, but the waiting soldiers froze when they saw Landra. She nodded to Ellis, a soldier she’d known for years, but he snatched his glance down to his feet rather than offer a greeting. An unfamiliar girl stared openly and set her jaw dangling.

  “Do I look as bad as the guards think?” she asked.

  “Worse,” Thisk said, “but it’s nothing a bit of scrubbing won’t cure.”

  Landra knew that wasn’t true. No amount of washing could hurry away the darkening of her cheek or her scars, just like no amount of reassuring could convince her the hall would ever be the same.

  “If you won’t wear battle armor, at least pick up a fresh cloak for Citizen Hux,” Hyana said. “It’s a way to Warrior Hall, and she’ll cause a riot looking like that.”

  “There’s a good city cloak in my room,” Landra said. “If we drop by on the way, I can pick it up.”

  Hyana sucked air through a gap in his teeth, and his aura juddered.

  “Problem?”

  “Like I said, citizen, there’s been a powerful lot of mischief. Can’t be sure your cloak’s still there, but we ca
n look if you want.”

  He led them through the narrow accommodation corridor, which led to Landra’s room. She could have navigated it with her eyes closed, but the narrow space looked different in the patchwork of bobbing lights. Every soldier’s breath and boot stamp sounded louder in the dimness, echoing in a strange and dreadful song. Snatches of light captured the damage. Pictures hung askew on the walls, and broken furniture littered the floor.

  She spotted her door swinging at an angle on a single hinge. So, her room had been violated. As she touched the door panel with one finger, it whined on a screw as it rocked.

  “Sorry, citizen,” Hyana said. “Guess it wasn’t good to have the Hux name during the raid. Good thing you were topside, if you ask me.”

  “Can you give me a minute?” she asked.

  Hyana nodded. “Here, you’ll be needing this. He backed away, but Landra stopped Thisk’s retreat by grabbing his sleeve.

  “Can you wait? This doesn’t feel like home anymore.”

  “Welcome to a ranger’s life. We’re never any place long enough to feel like we belong.”

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  “I know. I’ll be here ‘til you’ve finished.”

  She climbed over the door corner and raised her lamp high enough to take in the room. Her furniture remained in place, but the drawers hung open and her bedding and clothes formed a heap on the floor. She searched for the puzzle Dannet had given her but without success. The oddments, which usually rolled around the bottom of her room’s planter, had gone too.

  Just as well I took you with me. She reached back to touch the Collector.

  The chaos made her want to run, but she rummaged in the heap of clothes in search of a cloak. The one she remembered was there, and she settled the blue cape around her shoulders, draping the hood down her back. Before she left, a mouse scurried through the pile.

  Landra stilled her new instinct to kill the creature for food and offered it a small bow. “It’s all yours,” she said. “There’s nothing left for me here.” After a final glance around, she left the room she’d grown up in, not knowing if she would ever return.

  Chapter 28

  Their departure through Hux Hall brought more anguish. Landra peeked through an open door to the armory and saw empty racks where weapons used to rest.

  Hyana spotted her glance. “The chief ordered the armory, stores, and kitchen stripped.”

  It was another change, and every discrepancy from the home she remembered fed her misery.

  If I hadn’t gone with Oakham, none of this would have happened.

  The main exit was deserted now, and she recalled her last trip this way, when she’d chased Thisk to the overlevel. It felt like a long time ago and in a different life.

  Hyana held the exit door open. “Warrior Prenderman will take you from here. I’ll supervise the clean-up crew. After, we can barricade the shaft and close the hall.”

  “Thank you, soldier,” Thisk said, pushing Landra into the main corridor.

  She refused to look back, preferring to remember Hux Hall as it had been in her youth.

  Their new escort party looked tired, as if struggling through the final hour of a double-duty shift, but when their stares fell on Landra, interest broke over their features. Warrior Prenderman removed his glasses for cleaning and balanced them on his nose to scrutinize her appearance. Tiny pops in his aura betrayed his fascination.

  “Lead the way, Warrior,” Thisk ordered, tugging Landra’s hood over her face. His glare told Prenderman to mind his own business.

  “Yes, Fourth, of course.”

  The guard herded his team into position with Landra at the center of the group. On their trek across Central City, she glanced from beneath her hood once, when their route took them through the main concourse. A glimpse of the ceremonial dais sent her blood racing. She recalled the same gold drapes and blue bunting from pictures of Chief Hux’s investiture. Warrior statues framed the stage, larger than life and with sword tips raised in salute. There’d not been such preparations in her lifetime, and she couldn’t reconcile the grandeur with the troubles her world faced. Full-powered lights bathed the empty stage in yellow beams.

  Draining the magic well. A deep sigh pushed breath from her lungs. Is this real? Will I be the new chief elect? It didn’t seem likely after her misadventures, and she was torn between disappointment and relief.

  A sudden feeling of displacement wobbled her stride. Hours ago, she’d been foraging for food and battling the elements. An unexpected part of her wanted that simple, dangerous life back. Her glance shot to Thisk. If he was having problems with the transition, he hid it beneath his dark features, but there was a definite stiffness to his ranger aura when the grand façade of Warrior Hall’s entrance came into view. Depictions etched on the wood around the wide doorway showed hard-fought battles, violence, and blood.

  Thisk shared a word with the immobile Warriors who guarded the entry. From their expressionless faces, perfect insignias, and ice-still auras, Landra could have taken them for mannequins. They didn’t sport many achievement ribbons, but their azure cloaks fell in sharp pleats. As Thisk spoke, the guards’ gazes turned on Landra with widening eyes. She tried to bury herself in her cloak, but there was nowhere to hide. Once the conversation ended, Thisk pushed Landra through the entryway. Ceremony usually accompanied a soldier’s first passing through the door in recognition of a graduation to elite status.

  Not this time.

  She was through without fuss and facing a large depiction of her father’s sword emblem on the facing wall. It made the place belong to him as much as Hux Hall ever had, but there was no time to dwell. Thisk moved with a purpose, leading her through the maze of tight corridors without need of consulting wall maps. He finally halted in front of an identical door to the one outside Hux Hall’s command room. Despite outward calmness, his aura swirled with dark shots of anxiety. This has to be Father’s room.

  “Surely we’re cleaning up before seeing the chief,” she whispered, trying to keep the door guards from overhearing. She wanted to look her best to face judgment.

  “Some problems don’t improve with time. Best we face this sooner than later, and the chief will want our report at once.”

  Landra had experienced her share of nerves, fear, and anxiety in her short life, but the dark shades swirling through her aura represented all three varieties of dread. She hadn’t seen Father since her fight for the Collector and couldn’t guess how his anger had built during all that had followed. Her knees weakened as if ready to buckle.

  “Name and business?” a female door guard asked. At the ranger’s glare and a lift of his collar badge, she disappeared inside.

  “Take your lead from Chief Hux,” Thisk said, running grubby fingers through his unkempt curls. He looked ready to say more, but the door swung wide and banged against the wall. Chief Hux filled the frame, his thunderous grimace making Landra wish she’d bolted for the remote lands. He summoned them inside, and the door closed.

  This was a smaller room than the Hux Hall stateroom, and Father’s furniture crowded the space like it didn’t belong, but his grand desk still formed a focal point for business. Without bookshelves, his dusty volumes formed uneven stacks on the floor, but the base’s history record had travelled complete with its stand. A man with beady eyes, shocking white hair, and a slender frame sat next to the desk.

  Chief Hux sat down and signaled for them both to face him. “So, you decided to come back.”

  When neither of them responded, Chief Hux opened a drawer and removed a trinket. He set Oakham’s insignia pin on the desk, folded his arms, and glared.

  Not Father anymore. Today, you’re my chief.

  Chapter 29

  Chief Hux retrieved a sling from the desk and threaded it over his head. He grimaced as he rested his arm in the fabric.

  Landra worried as a daughter. Enduring years of neglect hadn’t destroyed her love for the man. You were attacked and driven from your
home. Are you injured, Father? Dare I ask? She started forward.

  Thisk’s firm grip tightened on the back of her jacket. “Dignity, Chief Elect.”

  She remembered her situation and followed the ranger’s example, settling her hood back and coming to attention.

  Chief Hux’s gold-flecked eyes speared her and then slid to Thisk, scrutinizing them both, as if taking in every nuance of their filthy, worn appearance. Whatever injury he’d taken, it didn’t affect his sharpness or the spiking intensity of his aura. She waited for him to ask a question or for Thisk to explain.

  “Well, aren’t you two just a pair,” her father said. “Hux Hall was attacked, the treaty is failing, unrest threatens to collapse Warrior rule, and you two turn up six days before the chief elect ceremony looking like a couple of exiled criminals.”

  Six days. Landra couldn’t believe how long she’d been in the remote lands.

  “I can explain,” Thisk said.

  “Stand down, Fourth. I want your report, Chief Elect.”

  Landra snapped a glance to Thisk and then to the man at the back of the room. She’d tried to keep the promotion a secret, so Father’s mention of her new rank set her off-balance. The pale man didn’t look like a Warrior, but the length of his hair told a different story. He crossed his legs and examined his fingernails. Elegant curls spun through his thin, blue aura.

  Chief Hux offered her a reassuring nod. She stepped forward, looking her father in the eyes, rather than focusing on Oakham’s insignia badge. She opened her mouth to ask what he wanted to know, and the nail-primping soldier jumped to his feet. The man stood at the podium behind the chief’s desk, opened the history tome to a blank page, and picked up his pen. It hovered over the sheet.

  Landra’s hand flew to her mouth. There wasn’t any part of her tale she wanted shared, let alone recorded, but her father nodded his insistence.

  “Tell me everything you’ve done since we last met,” he said. “Lyster will record your words. Pay him no attention.”

  “A revised training schedule arrived under my door,” she started, and the historian’s pen scratched as he penned her words. She gaped at him, bringing the report to a pause.