Soul Shade (Soul Stones Book 2)

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Soul Shade (Soul Stones Book 2) Page 7

by T. L. Branson


  The camp lay silent save the crackling of the flames behind him.

  Will walked over to the fire and sat where Camus had only minutes before. Lifting the skewer off the rack, he pulled it to his mouth and took a bite.

  10

  Sowena stared out the window at the pillar of smoke that billowed into the sky, the mid-morning sun still hiding behind the mountains to the east.

  It had been two days since that thing attacked. No one else in Luton had encountered it. No one else had even seen it. Except Sowena. But it was still out there on the hunt… somewhere.

  If Sowena had to guess, she would bet the smoke in the north was evidence of yet another attack. Only that one seemed larger, more severe. She hoped everyone was okay.

  Hinges squeaked and Sowena spun to find Rowland standing in the doorway.

  “It’s not one of ours,” he said, shaking his head. “I walked all the way to the northern end of town and that smoke is beyond our borders.”

  “Who, then?” Sowena asked.

  “It could be any number of farms, homesteads, or villages between here and Celesti,” the man answered. “It could even be Celesti itself.” He took off his hat and fiddled with it in his hands. “How is she?”

  Sowena turned her head to where Maggie lay peacefully on a cot. Sowena frowned and said, “No change.”

  Rowland walked over, the wood floor groaning with each step. Kneeling beside his wife, he clasped her hand. “Hang in there, Maggie. You’re going to be okay.”

  Sowena swallowed and closed her eyes, fighting off the tears. She saw his pain, which reminded her of her own. Her parents were dead. Her house was gone. Her life as she knew it had been forever changed.

  All of her plans, all of her dreams—they suddenly seemed meaningless, like someone had taken a hammer and smashed them to tiny pieces. Perhaps her mother had been right. The time for dreams was over. Now was the time for action.

  “I will find a way to wake you,” Sowena said quietly. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  Wood groaned as the River Raider bobbed up and down on the ocean waves. Khate stood on the deck, gazing out over the bow of the ship at the bright reds of the setting sun. To the east lay the southern half of the isle of Kent, open ocean greeted them to the west, and somewhere up ahead sat Kent City. A pillar of smoke from the volcano on the northern part of the island rose up into the sky.

  Their trip was taking longer than Khate would have liked. The River Raider was anything but seaworthy—her name telling everything there was to know. Khate guessed the ship hadn’t seen anything rougher than another vessel’s wake in years. Gripping the rails, Khate felt like she was the only force keeping the ship together.

  They’d left the shallows of the mainland two days prior to leap across the channel to Kent. The three hours it took to make the journey had been the most nerve wracking. Khate was sure each wave would be the one to do the River Raider in for good.

  Once they’d reached Kent, the large swells had died down, but the wind had not. The coast of Berxley was relatively flat besides the slight incline where the old castle once stood, but Kent was nearly one giant mountain in the middle of the ocean. The wind whipped down off its slopes, stirring up the water.

  Khate turned and marveled at the untamed beauty of the isle. Lush, green trees spanned every visible inch of the mountain from the coast to the summit. It reminded Khate of the setting of a book she’d once read to her children about flightless dragons that died off long ago.

  “What’s eatin’ you, lass?” Bryn asked, sidling up beside her.

  Khate startled and said, “What makes you think something’s bothering me?”

  Bryn nodded at the railing. “Hold on any tighter and you’re likely to grind it to powder.”

  “Just a little seasick, that’s all,” Khate said with a forced smile.

  “Bah!” Bryn replied. “If you were going to be ill, you’d have done it by now. There’s something else that—” he paused, then said, “Look, I get it, you don’t want to share, but tell me straight. I’m too old to play these games.”

  Khate chuckled. “Just thinking of my family. They’re the reason I’m out here.”

  “If you’re missing them, why’d you leave?” he asked.

  “I didn’t leave,” she said. “They were taken from me, like has happened so many times before across Aralith.”

  Bryn frowned. “So… what? You’re looking for revenge?”

  “Not revenge—perhaps justice?” There was a pause. “But I guess what I’m really looking for is hope.”

  “And you’re looking for it on Kent?” he asked in disbelief.

  Khate snorted, but held her peace.

  Bryn neither moved nor spoke. His eyebrows were raised and arms crossed, waiting for an answer.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” Khate said, turning and focusing her eyes on the horizon.

  Silence drifted between them.

  As minutes passed, the sky darkened, but the red glow remained thick ahead—not to the west with the setting sun, but to the nor’east. Khate scrunched her brow.

  “What’s that about?” she wondered aloud.

  Bryn followed her gaze and his eyes went wide. “Kaeden! What do you see?”

  Khate looked up at the lanky man in the crow’s nest.

  Peering through a spyglass, he said, “Looks like a fire.”

  “What manner of fire is large enough to create such a sight,” Bryn said to himself.

  Khate grabbed a hold of the rope net that functioned as a ladder and climbed up to join Kaeden.

  “Can you tell where it’s coming from?” Bryn asked.

  “It appears to be Kent, Cap’n,” Kaeden answered.

  “Mount Hanwick?” the captain asked.

  “No, sir,” Kaeden said, shaking his head. “The city.”

  “Preposterous,” the old sailor bristled.

  Khate swiped the spyglass from Kaeden and peered through. Khate could make out the silhouette of a city through a thick haze of smoke off in the distance. The pillar she’d seen earlier was coming not from the volcano, but the city itself.

  Nearly half of the city was ablaze.

  “He’s not lying,” Khate called down to Bryn, “but we have a bigger problem.”

  “Aye?” the old man asked.

  “The harbor’s gone,” she said.

  “What do you mean ‘gone’?” Bryn replied, craning his neck to meet her eyes.

  “I mean someone’s torched the whole port,” she answered. “The docks, ships, everything. It’s all alight.”

  “What in Iket’s name is going on?” Bryn wondered aloud.

  Khate handed the spyglass back to Kaeden, grabbed ahold of the escape rope next to the nest, and slid down to the main deck.

  “We’re still a ways out, but once we get closer we should start looking for a safe place to moor along the coast,” Khate said. “We don’t know what we’re walking into.”

  Bryn rubbed his chin and said, “I’m beginning to think I undercharged you.”

  “You said you wanted an adventure,” she said.

  Bryn clenched his teeth and huffed, then walked off and went below decks, presumably to find the others and prepare them for an emergency docking.

  Twenty minutes later, the city loomed just under two miles away. They were close enough to hear the screams drifting in on the wind and see the blur of figures rushing around in the streets.

  Soldiers marched in a line, pushing citizens back. The people were so incensed. Khate watched in horror as men hefted rocks and chucked them at the soldiers, only to be brought down at the end of a spear. Kent was in a full-scale riot.

  The only part of the city that seemed untouched was the gargantuan stone wall standing nearly thirty feet tall at the north end of town, which divided the island in half. The northern portion was a militarized zone, rumored to be used for training Aralith’s mainland forces, while the southern half belonged to the local population.

 
Riots would certainly slow things down, but Khate was not deterred. She’d spent the last month searching for the stone and she wasn’t about to let some fires turn her away.

  Kaeden spotted a tiny inlet and alerted Bryn. Together, the crew turned the River Raider and guided her in slowly until the bow ran aground on the small beach.

  As soon as the ship stopped moving, Khate swung herself over the edge, climbed down, and hopped onto the sand in ankle-deep water.

  “Hey!” someone called out.

  Heavy footsteps thundered on the ship above, then Bryn and PD’s heads popped up over the railing.

  “Where do you think you’re going, lass?” Bryn shouted down to her.

  “I’m going to scout out what’s happening,” Khate said. “Take care of your ship—I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

  At that, she turned and charted off into the jungle, leaving the blustering old captain behind.

  11

  The portcullis on the canal rose, granting the Wave Wraith access to Havan’s private harbor. Maya stood on the quarterdeck beside Khal as he maneuvered the ship through the narrow passage. The canal widened out into a small marina that had three docks and could comfortably admit six midsize vessels or four larger ones.

  The Wave Wraith had been crafted with this port in mind as Maya had known from the start that one day it would become her flagship. If the five hundred ton galleon were any longer, she wouldn’t fit. As it was, two smaller four hundred ton galleons occupied the outer ports, while two modified one hundred ton balingers sat side by side at one of the inner docks.

  Fortunately, one space remained open for the Wave Wraith and Khal steered her in with the precision of a hardened sea captain. The crew flew into motion, furling the sails and mooring the ship.

  Maya waited for them to finish as the full moon climbed higher in the clear night sky. A hawk screeched and Maya’s eyes were drawn to the silhouette of a small figure alighting upon a tall parapet of Havan’s castle in the city’s nor’west corner. Somewhere on the streets above them, a pig squealed and snorted as it ran away from its owner who shouted after it.

  As the gangplank was lowered, a contingent of Havan’s guard clambered into formation at its base. Maya proceeded down the ramp with Khal, her mother, and Jade flanking her.

  “M—my queen,” one guard said, stepping out of formation to face them. He lifted his right arm and brought his fist to his chest in salute. “We were not expecting you or we would have been sufficiently prepared for your arrival.”

  “Did you not see our flag?” Maya asked. Despite her question, she wasn’t bothered. In fact, she preferred it if no one fawned over her. She didn’t want to be that type of queen.

  “Of course we espied the royal crest, but no one in the tower recognized the vessel,” the man explained. “It wasn’t until we saw Your Majesty near the helm that we realized you weren’t pirates.”

  “Do you often get those?” she asked the man.

  “Beggin’ your pardon, Your Majesty?” the man asked.

  “Pirates. Do you often have pirates approaching your gates?” Maya reiterated.

  “N—no,” he replied, shuddering.

  “Then why—nevermind. It’s of no concern,” Maya said with a smile.

  The man shifted uneasily and refused to make eye contact.

  “Do I make you uncomfortable, lieutenant…?”

  “Briggs, Majesty,” he said, bowing. “And, no. What makes you say that?”

  “You haven’t stopped shaking since I arrived,” she said. “Are you unaccustomed to receiving royalty? Though I have not come in quite some time, I was under the impression my father visited frequently, did he not?”

  “No—I mean yes—I mean—”

  “Speak clearly, soldier,” Khal ordered.

  The man snapped to attention and saluted the new Grand Marshal. “Sir, yes sir.”

  “Now answer the question,” Khal added.

  “We were just surprised, sir,” lieutenant Briggs said. “With the reports of anarchy in the wake of the death of His Majesty the king, we assumed you’d lay low until the unrest passed.”

  “In fact, it’s that very thing that brings us here,” Maya said. “I need to speak with governor Kessler immediately.”

  “We’ll make sure she’s in the audience hall as soon as possible,” Briggs said. He looked over his shoulder and signaled one of his men who broke ranks, running for the castle. “The royal suite is being prepared as we speak and should be ready when you arrive. Would you like to retire for a brief respite?”

  “No, thank you lieutenant,” Maya said. “The matter is of utmost importance. We will retire when our business with governor Kessler is concluded.”

  “Very well,” Briggs said, bowing. “Right this way, Your Majesty.”

  As one, the soldiers turned and filed in around Maya and the others, escorting them up the ramp to the city above and through the streets to the castle.

  You handled that well, Merva remarked.

  You were expecting I wouldn’t? Maya said.

  Well, considering recent history…

  What’s that suppose to mean? Maya asked.

  Perhaps if you’d have been a bit more diplomatic with the young boy you might have all of your friends surrounding you at this vulnerable time, Merva explained.

  Lieutenant Briggs didn’t kill my father. Lieutenant Briggs didn’t destroy half of my city, Maya answered. And if he had, perhaps I might have responded similarly.

  Forgiveness, Maya, is a key characteristic in any noble queen’s rule, Merva instructed.

  My pardon must be earned.

  On the contrary, Merva said. It must be given, why else do you think they call it forgiveness?

  Maya looked away, as if diverting her gaze would let her avoid confrontation. Perhaps Merva was right—

  Of course I’m right, the goddess said.

  Maya clenched her jaw and gave a snort. Sometimes it was no fun having a goddess hear your every thought.

  But I am handy in a pinch and I’ve always got your best interests at heart, Merva said.

  Reluctantly, Maya said, I’ll grant Will my forgiveness the next time I see him. I promise.

  You should also apologize for how you treated him, Merva added.

  Don’t push it, Maya retorted.

  Lieutenant Briggs pushed open the large, iron double doors of Havan’s castle and continued marching forward, Maya’s party in tow.

  The entryway looked much like her own palace in Shadowhold. To the right sat a small lounge tucked into an alcove. Instead of a double grand staircase that wrapped around the center of the room, though, there stood a single set of ordinary steps that ascended to the floor above. At the base of the stairs, another pair of doors led to the servant’s wing, if Maya remembered right. It had been some time since she’d last visited, though, so she couldn’t be sure.

  The floor was a brilliant white marble with the royal crest emblazoned across it. Hurrying past two servants who were busy scrubbing the stone, Briggs beckoned them to follow him quickly with a forced smile.

  Maya thought his behavior curious. He’d seemed on edge throughout their entire interaction, but even more so in the last few moments. As Maya was pondering this, she tripped and kicked one of the servant’s buckets, spilling soapy water all over the floor.

  Both of the maids gasped and everyone backed away to escape the expanding puddle—everyone except Maya. She knelt down, apologizing profusely, and picked up the bucket. Beneath the bucket was a line of red paint.

  The maids increased their scrubbing, trying to remove the paint with all haste.

  “Never mind that, this way please!” Briggs called out, but Maya ignored him.

  She stepped back and took in the scene. Across the royal seal, someone had written the word “traitor.”

  Maya stood there speechless, blinking in shock.

  She heard Brigg’s voice from atop the staircase, “Please, I must insist that we—”

&n
bsp; “What is the meaning of this?” Khal demanded.

  Briggs started back down the steps as he said, “It’s nothing, really. Governor Kessler is waiting, let’s—”

  “The governor can wait,” Maya said. “Answer the grand marshal’s question.”

  Briggs pursed his lips and said, “This is really a conversation you ought to be having with Her Excellency.”

  “I’m asking you,” Maya said. “I don’t trust politicians to speak the truth or to speak it plainly.”

  Briggs took a deep breath and let it out with a shudder. “The truth is—”

  “The truth is,” a voice boomed from the floor above, “Havan was not immune to the outbreak of unrest and string of lawlessness that had swept the nation in the aftermath of the king’s death.”

  Governor Kessler stood with her hands on the railing, looking down at Maya and Khal. “Please, Your Majesty,” she said and gave a bow, “let’s continue this conversation in my chambers and leave these ladies to get back to their work.”

  Khal opened his mouth to respond, but Maya held up her hand and nodded her assent. The company reformed and proceeded up the staircase, following Briggs and the governor down a large corridor. At the end, the hall branched off to the left and right, but the party proceeded forward, through another set of doors that opened to Havan’s audience chamber.

  Instead of proceeding to the dais, the governor turned to the right and led them through a small door. On the other side sat a quaint office, bookcases lining every inch of wall space. The governor stood in front of the chair behind her mahogany desk and motioned for the four of them to sit down.

  Maya took a seat opposite the desk, but Khal remained standing; Jade and Evangeline sat on a plush sofa at the left side of the room. Two guards took up a flanking position behind the governor and four more around the door.

  “Are you expecting a coup?” Maya asked.

  “Don’t be silly, we’re merely—”

  “I’m not joking,” Maya said with a stern voice. “The canal gates—which I have never seen closed—were barred upon our entry, soldiers had been pulled from all over the city to put together a proper welcome, we were escorted by a whole contingent of guards, and someone defaced the palace and slandered my name.”

 

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