“We’re going to need Will, too. We don’t have a chance without him,” Maya said.
“Then send these two,” Khal said, nodding toward Robert and Ocken. “Let them go after him, but you’ll be setting sail with us in half an hour.”
Maya clenched her teeth, tightened her fists, and looked at Ocken and Robert, then back to Khal. She sighed and said, “Fine.”
Robert and Ocken nodded, then started to leave.
Khal caught Ocken by the arm and said, “There’s no sense in returning to Shadowhold, we won’t be here.”
“Where should we go?” Ocken asked.
After a moment, Khal said, “Celesti. Celesti is closest to the uncharted northland of the elves. They will strike there first. If all goes well, we will meet you there.”
“Yes, sir,” Ocken said as he turned and left with Robert in tow.
Maya stood at the railing, watching them disappear into the city.
“Come,” Khal said behind her. “We have much to plan before our departure.”
Maya followed Khal into her room, the door permanently open as it slumped against the wall.
“I’ll send someone to get that fixed for you,” Khal said.
Maya shrugged. “So what’s our course of action here?”
“You’re the queen, you tell me,” he said.
“We need to show Berxley we’re still in control. But we can’t do that on our own. We have to make sure they know the rest of the kingdom is still behind us,” Maya said.
“So how do we do that?” Khal asked.
“Aside from traveling the entire kingdom demanding fealty?” Maya asked. “I don’t know.”
“Could you use your magic to create an armada flying the flags of all the other provinces?” Khal asked.
Maya shook her head. “It’s too big—too taxing. I could do one ship, maybe two. But not a whole fleet.”
“Maybe you won’t have to do the whole fleet,” Khal said. He brushed off the empty plate and crumbs that sat atop the map of Aralith. Placing his his finger on Shadowhold, he moved it along the coast towards Berxley. “If we stop in Havan along the way, we can pick up one of their ships. If any of the kingdoms still side with us, it will be them. Then we continue on to Berxley. You use your magic to create a third ship and fly Kent’s colors.”
Maya placed her hand on her chin. “Hmm. That might work… But what about when I meet with the governor? I can’t keep the illusion up the whole time, and they’ll notice if a ship just vanishes.”
“Then don’t create a whole ship,” he said. “We’ll take a second ship from Havan and you can simply change the colors of the flag. If we time it right and sail into port as the sun is setting, they’ll see the flag, but then when it gets dark they won’t notice when the illusion drops.”
“That’s perfect,” Maya said. “I can do that. So to Havan, then?”
“To Havan,” Khal agreed.
A surge of adrenaline flooded Ocken’s veins. He had been getting tired of that stuffy boat. Throughout his early life growing up on the harsh desert wastelands, there wasn’t a body of water in sight, and his people got their water from cactuses and moisture trapping. Ocken wasn’t made for life at sea.
If he wasn’t so annoyed at Will for leaving without him, he’d almost be thankful. The last thing Ocken planned to do was set sail for the open ocean. He would deny it to his grave if anyone asked, but few things terrified him more than water.
Ocken wasn’t afraid of death; he simply would rather face it in open combat than be dragged to the bottom of the ocean.
Looking out over the city from atop the escarpment, he shook his head in wonder and dismay. The city was split in two, separated by a tear in the earth now filled with water from the Crystal Cove. People were calling it “the Javelin” because it was a straight line that terminated at the site where the palace had once stood.
That wasn’t the only casualty, though. Half the buildings or more lay as a smoldering mess. Ocken couldn’t possibly understand what the people were feeling. He had never had a home to call his own.
Turning his head toward the harbor, he stood still. The sails unfurled on the Wave Wraith, then the great ship exited the cove and left Shadowhold behind.
“Come on,” Robert said from behind him. “Will’s got a big lead on us.”
Ocken turned and grunted, then followed after Robert.
Resting on his shoulder was his newest weapon: a claymore. He hadn’t named it. He didn’t think he could. The loss of his beloved Melody—a strong, beautifully crafted swordstaff—still affected him.
He’d tried several different weapons in the queen’s stockroom at the old Revenant base, the official royal armory having fallen into the Javelin with the rest of the palace. None of the weapons had felt right, though. The average sword was like a butter knife in his hands, a hammer seemed too barbaric, and the halberd was too fragile.
The only thing close to comfortable was the claymore. That was it. That was all he called it: “the Claymore.” It could never replace Melody, and there was a hole in his heart because of it.
It hurt him almost as much as—
No.
Ocken wouldn’t go there. It had been years—almost two decades. He would not drudge up the past. One pain was enough; he needn’t reopen old wounds.
“You care about her, don’t you?” Robert asked.
Ocken shook his head and narrowed his eyes. “Hmm?”
“Maya,” Robert said in clarification. “You hated that ship. We could all see it, yet the look on your face as it left the harbor seemed almost like regret.”
“She is our queen,” Ocken stated.
“It’s more than that, though,” Robert said. “Don’t deny it.”
“I was there…” Ocken said in a flat voice, turning back toward the city. The ship was already out of sight.
“You were where?” Robert asked.
He stared out at the glistening ocean, prolonging the silence. At last he turned and said, “The day she was born.”
“And…?”
He supposed he felt like her protection was his responsibility somehow. But she had Khal and her mother.
Her mother, Ocken thought, wincing. In Riley’s body.
Ocken didn’t have any children of his own, but Riley had been as close to a daughter as he had ever had. He’d known her since she was twelve and they’d traveled together for nearly fourteen years.
Fourteen years was the longest time he’d ever spent with a single person besides his mother and brother, Thren. Yet it almost seemed that since the day of his birth he was destined to have people taken away from him.
First had been his father at the hands of a kranack—soulfiend he later learned they were called—then his mother to disease. Shortly after, Thren died defending his kingdom from those who sought to tear it apart from the inside. That’s when Ocken had met the love of his life, but even she was lost to him now.
Ocken fell into the service of Riley’s family shortly thereafter, charged with defending the Soul Render. After Drygo killed Riley’s mother, the queen of Berxley, and captured the Soul Render, Ocken and Riley sought a way to get it back. That was when Will showed up.
With Riley gone, Ocken felt it was his responsibility to uphold her family’s duty of protecting the stone. At the same time, he had an obligation to protect his queen as one of her royal guard.
His decision had been an easy one, though. Since the day Maya’s mother returned to them in Riley’s body, Ocken hadn’t been able to look her in the eye. He tried to avoid her entirely and, when he couldn’t, he would avert his eyes as she stepped into the room.
All he saw was Riley. Not Evangeline. Not the queen’s mother. Riley. But she wasn’t Riley. She never would be. Riley was gone.
9
Will’s stomach rumbled. The sun was beginning to set and he hadn’t had anything to eat in nearly twelve hours, since he’d foolishly taken off without grabbing anything to eat.
I told
you to go back and get supplies, Lotess chided.
Will brushed her off, but he couldn’t ignore the hunger pains. He needed food, and he knew he’d have to get it the old-fashioned way. There was only one problem: he didn’t have a bow.
That’s not a problem, Lotess said. Your power is effective on animals as well, remember?
Will smiled and nodded, but still refused to acknowledge her.
You’re not going to be that sore about an ‘I told you so,’ are you? she asked.
Will laughed. “Maybe I just like to make you squirm,” he responded. Then he added, “Thanks.”
Leaving the northbound road, Will ventured into the forest.
He knew how to hunt. It had been one of the only ways that his family survived after their father died. Hunting also provided an opportunity for stealth and weapons training.
Will didn’t have the time or the resources to do it properly, though, and so he trudged through the forest, hoping to stir up a rabbit or pheasant. When he came across a deer lying down, his eyes went wide and he froze, a big smile rising on his face.
He loved venison.
You can’t kill that deer, Lotess said.
Why not? Will asked. I could feed a whole family with that meat.
But you’re not a whole family, are you? Lotess asked. You’re one person.
So? Will asked.
So… that would be wasteful, she replied.
Will snorted, then shouted, “Go on! Get out of here!”
The deer didn’t move.
Will cocked his head, confused.
“I said scram!” he shouted again.
Still, the deer lay unmoving.
Will advanced toward it, purposefully stepping on fallen leaves and branches. At first he thought maybe it had already been wounded by another hunter and had escaped only to later succumb to its wounds, but he couldn’t see an arrow or any blood.
As Will drew closer, he noticed the rise and fall of its chest. The deer was still very much alive. Maybe it was sick.
Will shook his head. He wasn’t a doctor. He wanted to eat the deer, not nurse it back to health. Kneeling down beside it, he cautiously placed his hand on the deer. It didn’t jolt or react in any way to his touch.
Odd.
“What’s wrong with it?” Will asked.
Lotess shrugged inside his mind. I am no more a healer than you.
Will tapped into the power of his Soul Sight and switched his vision from the normal spectrum of light into the deep blues of the soul realm. The color of the creature before him was flat and dull. No glow meant no soul. How did a living creature have no soul?
“The only time I see something like this is after I’ve destroyed a man’s soul,” Will said. “But I haven’t used my power since last night.”
Lotess remained silent.
Will released the Soul Sight and the colors of the world returned to normal. “You don’t think there’s someone else out there with the same ability as me, do you?” he asked.
Impossible, Lotess said. Drygo’s power was your counter.
“My counter?” Will asked.
There were six core magics in the beginning. A power and a counter power, Lotess explained. Each pairing held similar powers with opposite effects. Iket’s power was the one opposite to my own. You can remove or destroy souls—Drygo stole or strengthened them.
“I get it,” Will said. “The only other person capable of doing something like this would have been Drygo? But he’s dead, right? What about that creature he turned into?”
The stone has been destroyed, so Iket is gone as far as I know. Whether that creature is still Drygo or not, I’m not sure, she said. But I do know this: Iket couldn’t have done this, nor any of the other gods.
Will’s stomach let out a low growl again. The deer’s death would have to remain a mystery for now. He needed to eat. Pulling out his knife, he prepared to slice into the deer. It wouldn’t be a waste if it was already as good as dead, right?
The sound of voices caused Will’s hand to falter.
He looked up from the deer, suddenly alert. Had someone followed him? He thought he’d slipped away from Shadowhold without attracting any attention.
Sheathing his knife, Will crept through the forest in the direction of the voices. This time, though, he avoided making a sound—another skill his mother had taught him.
The sun had fully set by that point and darkness reigned. Through the trees, Will caught sight of a flicker of light. They’d set a campfire. The voices were still muted, but grew louder the closer he got.
A slight ridge rose up behind the fire and Will could see the shadows of at least six figures cast up onto the stone wall behind them. Not knowing whether they were friend or foe, Will decided to scout them out first.
He cut a wide berth around the camp and climbed up onto the ridge. Getting down on all fours, he crawled over to the ledge.
Four men and two women milled about the site. They were all well armed—unusual for a group of travelers, but maybe not considering the highwayman that often patrolled the roads. Perhaps these were the highwaymen.
One of them stood at the edge of the camp, peering out into the darkness. Another man sat near the fire, rotating a skewer bearing what looked like a skinned rabbit. Will’s mouth began to water.
The cook lifted his head and asked, “What is it?”
“I don’t know,” came the soft reply, confusion in his voice.
“Probably just an animal,” one of the women said. She, too, was sitting near the fire, whittling a piece of wood with her knife.
“Animals don’t talk,” the sentry replied.
“I didn’t hear anything,” the cook said. “Did you, Gaylia?”
“Nothing,” the whittler replied. “I think you’re imagining things, Ilbryn.”
“This whole place has me on edge,” Ilbryn said, walking back to sit at the fire. “Camus, where is it that we’re going again?”
“Some place called Shadowhold,” Camus replied without looking up from the skewers.
Gaylia, Ilbryn, Camus? These weren’t common Aralithian names. And who hadn’t heard of Shadowhold?
“You heard what Ophi said, ‘the queen must be killed,’” Camus said.
Ophi! Will practically shouted to Lotess. These are elves!
“And by all accounts,” Camus continued. “The queen’s place of residence is this ‘Shadowhold.’ ”
Will squinted and, sure enough, he could barely make out the points in their ears. Elves. Here. There hadn’t been elves in Aralith since…
…since we ended the war and drove them back to our northern kingdom, Lotess said.
Your kingdom? Will asked.
Did you forget that I, too, am an elf? she replied.
They’re here to kill Maya, Will said. It’s only been a week and Ophi’s already on the attack. We have less time than I’d thought.
“She’s a queen, though, right?” Gaylia asked. “She’s bound to have guards.”
“What difference does that make?” one of the others chimed in. “Ophi wants her dead. Do you think a couple of men will be a problem? We’re elves.”
Will had heard enough. He wouldn’t let them kill his friends. Pulling himself up into a crouch, he drew his knife.
One of the elves walked over to their pile of belongings at the base of the ridge and began rifling through his sack on the ground. Knife held high, Will hopped down onto the elf’s back, flattening him onto the ground, and plunged the blade through his heart.
The rest of the camp bolted to their feet and drew their weapons, turning on the intruder. The closest elf charged at Will.
Sidestepping, Will drove the knife up under the elf’s chin as he passed. As his body fell, the weight of the corpse wrenched the blade from Will’s hand.
The remaining elves barreled in with rage at the seemingly unarmed intruder.
Will brought his hands together and pulled them apart, producing a staff of blue energy.
&n
bsp; Freezing in their tracks, the elves’ jaws dropped, anger giving way to fear.
Will’s staff lanced through the nearest elf, her body falling to the ground as Will’s power destroyed her soul. The remaining three shook away their surprise and advanced on Will as one.
Will lunged forward, extending the staff with his right hand and impaling the sentry, Ilbryn.
Camus raced in from Will’s right. Will lifted his left hand over his right arm and fired a blast of energy that caught Camus in the chest—his body crumpling like the others.
Gaylia turned and ran.
As much as it pained him, Will couldn’t let her get away. The lives of everyone he cared about depended on it.
He hoisted the energy staff up with his right hand and tossed it like a javelin. It hit in the center of her back, causing her body to collapse.
Will released the magic and the staff dissipated.
He stood and loosed the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.
Behind him, one of the elves sputtered, coughing up blood. It was the elf with the knife in his throat.
Will reached down and grasped the knife hilt, preparing to yank it free, when the elf’s hand shot up and grabbed his wrist.
The elf, clutching the pendant around his neck with his other hand, held it up. His lips quivered, but he managed to say, “Thallan.”
Will cocked his head in confusion.
“Thallan,” the elf said again, immense pain splayed across his face.
Prying the elf’s hand off his wrist, Will wrenched the knife and put the elf out of his misery.
He reached down, tore the pendant from the elf’s neck, and held it up to the firelight. Etched on its surface was a fist holding three arrows.
What or who is Thallan? Will wondered. And why is this important enough for the elf to mention with his dying breath?
After wiping the blood off the pendant on the elf’s tunic, Will placed it around his own neck.
Soul Shade (Soul Stones Book 2) Page 6