Silver's Redemption (Soul Merge Saga Book 3)

by M. P. A. Hanson

  Leigh was wide eyed at the logic. “You got their character so quickly after meeting them?”

  “I used Romana’s memories.” Silver admitted, yet she said nothing about her breakdown. Leigh’s loyalties – despite her insistence otherwise – were split. Besides, Silver wasn’t in the habit of sharing.

  “How strong is the connection between the two of you?” Leigh wondered. “Last time I saw Romana there was a circle of gold in her eyes, like her Ancient powers were taking over what was left of you inside of her.” She peered at Silver’s own eyes.

  “I am not affected by the bond.” Silver brushed away the question with an outright lie. “If anything, the fact that Romana’s eyes are changing shows a weakness in the bond.”

  Leigh nodded happily. Content with the knowledge that Silver seemed fine. “I suppose it does.”

  “They cannot use their natural speeds.” Silver stated, bringing the topic back to the two thieves. “Not through inability but from a lack of discipline.”

  “If you would like, I will attempt to aid them tonight.” Leigh offered. “Miria will return soon and will help me.”

  Silver considered it carefully. “Don’t go easy on them.” She finally decided. “They can’t forget who they’re living with.”

  Leigh bowed her head in acknowledgement and followed the two men. Meanwhile Silver headed into her rooms to find a hot meal of soup awaiting her. Lena was truly a psychic, Silver though as she fell into slumber.

  She awoke the next morning, aware that she was not alone in her bedchamber. Considering she slept in a hidden room which was enchanted with myriad concealments that went into place whenever she slept, there were only two people in Dalmorin that her intruder could be.

  Silver did not turn, aware that she had left her mask of the floor with her other clothes.

  “You should know, master thief, that men have fought and died over my face. If I ever find out that you have looked upon it I will cut out your eyes, and I won’t grow them back.”

  She slipped the covers away, ensuring she never faced him and that her long, black, unbound hair shielded her face from his view. Yet she still felt exposed in the loose sleep-clothes she wore as she stood.

  “I could have killed you while you slept.” Keenan stated, and Silver itched for her armour.

  She merely pointed above to the ledge over the bed, where Theria looked down at them both. Her familiar answered for her.

  “Had you moved threateningly you would have died quickly,” Theria reassured him as Silver crossed the room to where Lena had drawn up a bath. Once she was behind the screen she pulled it around her, feeling more secure now her face was hidden, especially considering the thief hadn’t left yet.

  “Why did you sneak in, if not to kill me?” Silver asked, breaking the silence as she debated getting into the bath or not. “Though getting in was impressive, I’ll grant you that much.”

  “Call it curiosity.” A distant voice answered. “I also find it satisfying to know I broke through even your security.”

  Silver refused to ask how he’d managed it. She would examine the enchantment later and see what exactly he had done to get in. She extended her wings but kept her clothes on as she began to wash the dust and sweat from them with care, Last night’s flight had done a number on them, though the broken feathers had replaced themselves in her sleep.

  Her mask flew neatly over the screen to land beside her, closely followed by a clean set of armour. The halfling was acting too comfortable around her, she noted as a feeling of unease crept through her. Why was he acting so pleasantly towards the woman who cut his feet off only yesterday? Thief lords did not fetch clothes for insane murderers lightly.

  “So what is it you want?” Silver asked. “I presume your fetching my clothes comes at a price.

  She pulled on the comfortable leather and sighed at the feeling of control it brought. Ordinarily she wouldn’t have taken it off, even to sleep, but last night she had been exhausted – a dangerous state for her to be in considering the mistakes she had made.

  “There is such a thing as merely behaving civilly towards another person.” Keenan remarked. “Passing your clothes over was hardly a great task.”

  There was a slightly mocking quality to his voice, but also caution and disbelief hidden in the undertones.

  “Your brother Roan,” He continued as she resumed washing her wings, “Has been reported missing by the king of the elves.”

  Silver was around the screen in a flash, her wings sending water drops everywhere as they flapped in her agitation. Too late she remembered she hadn’t put her mask on.

  Keenan was looking right into her eyes.

  She reached for her blades, only to find Keenan hadn’t given her any. Her eyes darted to her closet and the knives glinting through the open door.

  The thief turned away as soon as he realised what he’d done. He was looking pointedly away from her, yet she knew he had seen her. Had the damage been done?

  His resigned expression and the certainty that punishment was coming were what saved him.

  “I don’t want to get blood on this rug.” Silver muttered, pulling on the leather mask covered her cheekbones and framed her eyes. “So if you tell me everything about my brother’s disappearance I will choose to believe you saw nothing unless certain side-effects occur.” Such as him turning into a drooling idiot.

  His entire frame slouched in relief.

  “Roan has been gone for three days.” He reported instantly. “He was taken from the Palace Tree in Elvardis. One of the servants says she saw your brother leave of his own accord.”

  Silver froze.

  “Alda.”

  “It would appear so.” Keenan replied. “We have reports of him getting onto a boat at the port town of Mathos, but our source says he was hooded and the ship the boat returned to left the instant he was aboard.”

  “What was the name of the boat?”

  Keenan hesitated. “It was a prison ship, by the name of Discovery.” He replied. “Discovery only docks at land once every three months. You’ll have to wait a while before seeing it again.”

  “Or else I’d have to get my own ship.” Silver muttered.

  “You’d be hard pressed to find one that out gunned Discovery.” He advised. “And managing to disable a ship without sinking both it and its cargo isn’t something a lot of captains can or will do. Not to mention that you’re limited to hiring pirates as Discovery is a royal vessel and belongs to the king.”

  “Well, luckily the king is my almost-brother-in-law.” Silver muttered.

  Chapter Twenty

  MISTAKE

  Romana looked at the triplets and their older sister in front of her, scarcely able to believe what she was seeing. They were nearly identical, dressed in the clothes of the slave shop, and the triplets were just under seven years old. But the four sisters were all destined to be wytch queens and members of the elite circle known as The Coven.

  Their names had been discarded when they were brought by a merchant needing helpers for his desert caravan, but the crystal bowl used for initiations had told her them. She also knew that the one on the left, with the kind brown eyes and flyaway hair, was the reincarnation of her old mentor, Sarah, while another of the triplets was the reincarnation of her old mentee, Bronwyn.

  She must have been staring for a while, because they looked uncomfortable under her gaze. But she couldn’t help drinking in the sight of the little girl. She had the same mannerism of tilting her head slightly and the same sense of only being half conscious of what was going on in the room as Sarah had.

  Romana shook herself and smiled. This was not Sarah, no matter the similarities the memories and experiences that had made her mentor who she was were not a part of this little girl’s life. Though they shared a soul and had the same power she had to keep in mind they were separate people. And the same went for the girl who was Bronwyn’s reincarnation. The girl had a harder look to her, and Bronwyn had been too you
ng to have developed the sense of self that the desert children had.

  “Lillian, you have powers over time.” Romana said gently, “Zada, you have powers over objects through telekinesis, Halo over birds and Erika,” She took a deep breath. “You are the tree wytch.”

  She glanced at the bowl and wasn’t surprised at the other name she saw there. “You are all to be mentored by me.” She smiled. “I can’t tell you how rare it is to have so many wytches from the same family.” She hoped that would justify her staring earlier.

  It wasn’t strange to have so many wytches come to the isle with the same powers as dead wytches. It was normal and accepted in fact. After the battle with Kobos and the fall of the old Isle of the Gifted more than a few wytches had died, among those there had inevitably been wytch queens of great power who had been major targets in a fight. Add to that the mortal state that most wytches existed in and there were quite a few who reincarnated.

  Cass, the only vampire wytch in history was the only one who could really relate to exactly how strange meeting your old friend’s reincarnation was.

  “How much can I get for them?” The merchant asked in the background, reminding her of his reeking presence in her audience room. “They have good powers yes? Will be expensive to replace good slaves.” He spoke common tongue badly, like most desert dwellers. Yet typically he was excitable at the prospect of gold entering into his possession.

  “By the laws of the wytches these girls are free women and so are unable to be sold or kept as possessions.” Romana snapped as the flames across her skin flashed dangerously.

  “But there was a reward.” The trader stammered. “I was told there would be hundreds of bags of gold.”

  “We lied.” Romana said. “And you are going to leave, without your memories of ever having met these girls.”

  The trader screamed as she entered his mind as painfully as she could. Romana had always hated slave traders and she made no effort to be gentle as she ripped the memories from his mind before teleporting him back to his caravan. As a finishing touch she confiscated his goods as a tribute to the isle for safe passage.

  She was smiling, but the girls looked half terrified. With a sigh she shook herself; this vindictive side she was developing couldn’t be good for her.

  Four pairs of eyes, all the colour of dark honey, gazed at her with a mix of fear and respect.

  “I’m sorry about that.” Romana said. “Slave owners and I have a bad history. You are all legally free girls now. No one has any right to sell you. My name is Romana, but you can call me Romy if you want.”

  The nickname had taken off on the isle and the majority of the wytches used it now.

  As if on cue, someone called from the doorway. “Romy, are you responsible for the cartloads of stuff that just appeared on the temple steps?” Averna called, popping her head around the door.

  “Consider it a tribute from our visitor.” Romana winked. “Fate has just sent me four new students.”

  “Bring them to the dinner tonight.” Averna suggested before disappearing with a wave to the four girls.

  “Would you like to come?” Romana asked. “It will be here and you can meet some of the other wytches.”

  It was actually a meal for the members of the Coven, yet these girls would someday be wytch queens themselves and Romana grew more hopeful as she thought of the empty gems that occupied the medallion of the Coven now fused into her flesh above her heart. Once these girls passed their first initiations four of those fifteen empty gems would fill with the essence of their powers; making the Coven just that tiny step closer to being whole.

  But it would never be whole while Silver and Grandmother Black lived. They were two of the rogue wytch queens who the Coven never spoke of because there was no hope of ever convincing them to come back. Yet Romana had to wonder if the Coven wanted them back at all, with such dark gifts as manipulating souls and demons, neither of them were particularly in line with the more traditionally ‘good’ powers of the Coven. Even Averna was only accepted because of her strict code of honour and Romana’s word that she would never harm another wytch.

  She almost didn’t notice the minute nods that came from the four girls in answer to her earlier question. Shaking herself from her musing Romana smiled.

  “Good, you’ll enjoy it, wytch feasts are rarely dull. Now do you have anything with you? Clothes? Toys?” It was a long shot considering they had been slaves and she wasn’t surprised when they mutely shook their heads. “Well we can fix that.” She smiled.

  “Joanna?” She called mentally to the thread wytch. “Are you busy?”

  It took a second for the other wytch queen to reply. “Never too busy for you, Romana. Why don’t you come round for some tea? Casey brought round some biscuits earlier and I could use some help finishing them off.”

  “I have four new girls who all need clothes.” Romana informed her “Is there enough for them?”

  “Of course there’s enough, but four at once? And you’re to mentor all of them?” Joanna was clearly shocked and it was a relief to hear her friend sound so normal after Silver had so brutally invaded her mind at midsummer.

  “Three are triplets, one is their older sister and all of them are to become wytch queens.” Romana replied. “I’ll bring them over.”

  “Don’t be surprised.” Romana told the girls. “We’re going to teleport to Joanna’s house. She’ll make you whatever clothes you want. You just have to think of them and she can create them.”

  There was surprise and even a little awe in the faces of the girls as they grasped each other’s hands. Their trepidation was not something Romana was unfamiliar with, most new wytches were terrified of the isle, but thankfully Joanna was usually the one who put them the most at ease.

  It only took a second before they were outside Joanna’s modest house, standing on her porch by a table already laden with cakes, biscuits and tea.

  Joanna sat on the U shaped rattan sofa that surrounded the table of goodies. The sofa cushions had always fascinated Romana because they never seemed to stop changing. The threads of the patterns were constantly moving, forming one pattern then another depending on Joanna’s mood. By the looks on the three girls’ faces they were impressed as well.

  “Come sit down sweetings.” The thread wytch smiled warmly, patting the cushion beside her. “Help yourself to whatever you want.”

  Romana waited until the four girls had all squeezed around the table before sitting next to Joanna on the end.

  “They all need clothes, I presume.” Joanna asked. “What do you want to wear dears? Picture whatever you want and I can make it in seconds.”

  The girls, who were tentatively helping themselves to cake, looked questioningly at her. Finally Zada piqued up. “What’s wrong with what we’re wearing?”

  Joanna looked at the slave tops and shorts with despair. “Wouldn’t you prefer something a bit more like this?” She asked, and as she spoke the door to the house opened and outfits and dresses started zooming out and presenting themselves flamboyantly to the girls. When one jacket actually bowed, Halo burst into giggles, followed closely by Lillian, Zada and finally Erika.

  “There we go.” Joanna smiled triumphantly, looking directly at Lillian. Within seconds threads were streaming from the house in long lines, like fine hairs gliding across the wood of the porch yet never knotting or getting caught.

  Right before their eyes the threads began to change colour from white to startling orange and then from the bottom up they began to weave together so quickly Romana doubted the girls could see it with their human eyesight. It took maybe a minute at most before a beautiful scoop neck orange tunic with petal shaped sleeves and midnight blue leggings had been formed.

  Lillian gasped in surprise. “How did you do that?”

  “When someone thinks about a design really hard in their mind I can sense it and make it into a real piece of clothing.” Joanna smiled. “Go on, take them and put them on indoors. They’re yours now
.”

  “Don’t I have to pay for them?” The girl asked.

  “You’re my students.” Romana reminded her. “Everything you need will be paid for by me.”

  The girls looked shyly at her. “Thank-you, miss.” Lillian said, getting up and cautiously taking the clothes from where they hung, unaided, in the air.

  One by one, each of the girls came up with an outfit, then another and another until Romana had four piles of clothes almost taller than the girls themselves folded in front of her.

  “Are you sure you don’t want anything else?” She asked the girls. “You only got three pairs of shoes each.” She wasn’t too concerned, considering that they could come back any time, but still, she wanted the girls to have everything they would need.

  There were nods from everyone, less timid than the nods from just hours ago. That was good; wytches were outspoken by nature, and Romana knew that these girls would get there eventually.

  She teleported them, without warning this time to her apartments, luckily, since a wytch could be expected to mentor many students at the same time, and Romana had wards who came to stay as well, she had plenty of rooms.

  They arrived in the audience room, and Romana quickly showed them the way into her apartments and ushered them into their rooms to unpack.

  “I see reincarnation has become more popular since I came back.” Silver’s melodic voice was the first indication that Romana was not alone.

  Her first reaction was uncontrolled joy; her sister was here, alive and hopefully with news of Keenan or Tommy. Her next, more level-headed reaction was dread. Silver never came on a social visit. Her sister needed something or wanted to kill someone.

  “Are Keenan and Tommy still alive?” Romana had to ask.

  “Concerned about lover boy?” Silver mocked. “I chopped off his feet, but they grew back. Tommy is drinking his demon blood like a good boy every few hours. Maybe he’ll get addicted if he keeps chugging it down like water. Could be interesting to find out, don’t you think?”

  Romana should have known the news would have only made her more anxious. “What do you want?”