A Soul For Atonement (The Soulbearer Series Book 4)

by Crista McHugh

  One only had to look at Varrik to see where Arden had inherited her fair coloring. What had made her freak and outcast in Ranello answered any doubts about who sired her. With the exception of the shape of her mouth, Arden was a feminine version of her father, right down to the pointed tips of her ears, which had long been cut away by her fearful mother.

  Her father was pouring tea when she entered, but he wasn’t alone.

  Near the window and looking rather uncomfortable in the confined quarters stood Sazi.

  Arden stopped short and glared at the Ornathian. “What are you doing here?”

  “Please sit down and have a cup of tea, daughter,” Varrik said without looking up.

  Cinder abandoned her for a bowl of roasted meat beside the fireplace, but Arden stayed where she was. “Not until she answers my question.”

  “That’s it, Arden. Find out what she’s hiding, why she’s always interfering with your attempts to save Dev,” Loku said. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say she couldn’t wait to spill his blood.”

  The same image of Dev being led to the altar for execution flashed in front of her eyes, only this time, it was Sazi swinging the club.

  Arden’s throat choked, and she stumbled back a step. The violent images were nothing more than Loku trying to bend her to his will by using fear, and yet, no matter how many times she told herself that, it did little to ease the panic swirling in her gut.

  Sazi tilted her head to the side, her ebony brow creased with concern. “What is he telling you, Soulbearer?”

  “Nothing of your concern.” She turned to her father. “If she’s here, then you already know what happened to Dev.”

  “I do, and I’m terribly sorry to hear it.” He held out a cup.

  Arden sized up the two mages before her, wondering what her odds were in successfully learning the new location of Loku’s ashes. “Great, I’m already thinking like Dev. If this keeps up, I’ll be praying to Lady Luck.”

  “Not as long as you have me.” Loku’s magic filled her veins. “We’re wasting time, Arden. Time Dev doesn’t have.”

  He was right. She should be finding what she came here for, not having tea with the man who held the information that could save Dev’s life. She succumbed in desperation and welcomed the power he offered her, but like a bursting dam, it overran her defenses and left her struggling for control.

  Her father set the cup aside, his blue eyes deadly serious. “Arden, I strongly recommend you sit down and hear us out.”

  Her mouth moved, but it was Loku’s voice that came out. “Where is it?”

  “Where is what, Loku?” Varrik asked, the countenance of his face reflecting the same calmness as his voice.

  Her muscles tightened like a tiger waiting to spring. “My body.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Liar!” Before she could stop him, Loku lifted her arm and shot a ball of yellow-green magic from her palm toward Varrik.

  Her father barely blinked as the spell collided with the protective dome of his shield. “Arden, remember, it’s you who control him, not the other way around.”

  “Ah, but she let me take control.” Loku launched another spell, this time creating hundreds of tiny fissures in Varrik’s shield. “You’re no match for a god.”

  The third spell shattered Varrik’s defenses, and her father fell to his knees. Loku wasted no time invading his mind. Years of memories flew by in a haze, but one particular memory drove the breath from her lungs.

  Her mother’s face, staring up in love at her father.

  Guilt slammed into her like a knight’s jousting lance, and she scrambled to regain control. “Stop it, Loku.”

  “No, Arden,” he said aloud, “not until I find what I want.” A fresh wave of power surged through her, raw and greedy and full of hatred. Varrik cried out, pressing the heels of his hands to his temples. “Where did you hide it?”

  Unshed tears gathered in the corners of her eyes as she watched her father suffer. She had to end this. She had to be the Soulbearer. Arden gathered her own magic and focused on the containment spells Dev and Varrik had taught her.

  Before she could cast the first spell, though, something smashed against the back of her head, and her world turned black.

  ***

  Callix’s chest heaved as he lifted the hilt of his sword to deliver another blow, if needed.

  But the Soulbearer didn’t move. A trickle of blood flowed from the spot where he’d struck her, but the faint rise and fall of her chest told him he hadn’t killed her.

  Yet.

  Sazi rushed to help Varrik while the wolf nudged his mistress with his nose a few times. When she didn’t stir, the wolf looked up at Callix with bared teeth and a low growl.

  Fear locked his feet to the ground where he stood, and his attention flipped from the unconscious Soulbearer, to her wolf, and finally to her father. “Are you hurt?” he asked.

  Varrik was slow to rise, but he shook his head. “Nothing too serious,” he replied with a wince, “but I have a feeling I’ll have one hell of a headache for the next few hours.”

  “Let me take care of that.” Sazi hovered her hand over Varrik’s brow, and the lines of pain faded from his face. “Better?”

  “Much.” He came closer to where Arden lay and crouched beside her. “Did you have to hit her so hard?”

  “What?” Callix lowered his sword, but didn’t sheath it right away. “It’s not like we didn’t see Dev do it dozens of times to the prior Soulbearer.”

  “And we wondered why Robb succumbed to the madness so quickly.” Varrik brushed his daughter’s hair aside to uncover the wound and cast a healing spell. “Soulbearer or not, she’s still my daughter.”

  Callix kept his mouth shut. Varrik showed her more mercy than he cared to witness. If she’d been his daughter, he would’ve fought back. If she’d been his daughter, he wouldn’t have given her a chance to let the chaos god seize control of her. If she’d been his daughter, he would’ve bound her in the strongest mithral chains he could find and locked her in a remote tower until death claimed her.

  The Soulbearer was a threat to everyone around her, and this proved it.

  Sazi joined Varrik beside the fallen girl. “Did you hear what he said at the end?”

  “I did, and it eases my heart to know she was fighting back.”

  Callix shook his head and finally sheathed his sword. Varrik was a fool. A man who let emotions cloud his better judgment. And one day, he might end up dead because of them.

  The wolf whimpered and licked Arden’s face.

  Sazi stroked the wolf’s ears. “She will be fine, Cinder. I will show you.”

  The Ornathian gathered Arden in her arms and carried her out of the room with the wolf following closely behind.

  Callix turned to leave, but paused when Varrik spoke.

  “A word with you, please, in private.”

  He closed the study doors and waited for Varrik to sink back into his chair and take a sip of tea before asking, “Are you going to berate me for saving your life?”

  “On the contrary, I wish to thank you for diffusing the situation without causing her much harm.” A faint spark of amusement glowed from Varrik’s eyes. “Perhaps there’s a bit of Protector in you, after all.”

  Callix’s jaw tightened, and he bit back the retort that sat on the tip of his tongue. Leave it to a Milorian to mock him for not wanting to take the path that had been chosen for him. Once his temper cooled, he managed to say, “You know what he was trying to find.”

  “I do.”

  “And what if he tried to extract that information from you again?”

  Varrik’s lips rose into a sly grin. “He’d find himself very frustrated because I have no knowledge of its current location.”

  The air blew out of Callix’s lungs, and he found himself chuckling. Once again, Varrik had outsmarted the chaos god. “And does he know that?”

  “I have no idea, but I’d rather keep this between the two of
us, which is why I’m having this conversation with you while Arden’s out of the room. Let him keep thinking I have the answers. Diversion is sometimes the best way to protect the truth.”

  “Why share this with me at all?”

  “Why indeed?” Varrik’s grin didn’t wane as he took another sip of tea. “If history is correct, the Jaquoix family has a particular interest in keeping Loku bound within the Soulbearer.”

  Callix flexed and curled his fingers over and over again. The first Soulbearer had been his great-grandfather, Piramis de Jaquoix. The next four were also members of his family, ending with his uncle, Quertus. From birth, he’d known he’d been selected to follow them, first as a Protector, then as a Soulbearer. Such was the fate of a younger son.

  And just when he’d begun to dread the duty he’d been sentenced with, Devarius Tel’Brien offered to become the Soulbearer’s Protector in his stead.

  That alone was enough to keep the little niggle of guilt burning within the center of his chest. He slumped down in the chair across from Varrik. “So what’s the next step in your plan?”

  “That remains to be seen.”

  By Ivis, the man loved to talk in riddles. “Meaning?”

  “I’d like to have a chance to speak with my daughter without Loku interfering.”

  “Good luck there. You saw how little control she had over him.”

  “I saw him take control, but I also saw her trying to regain it.” He finished off the last of his tea and poured a fresh cup. “She’s demonstrated before that she has the ability to contain him.”

  “But there’s a flaw in your logic. Unlike before, she has something to lose if she doesn’t appease Loku. Other than her mind, that is.”

  “Are you referring to her fiancé?”

  “She’s human enough to let her emotions rule her.”

  Varrik cocked a brow as though to say Callix had little room to talk. Unlike his pure-blood mentor, the Jaquoix family had diluted its elvan blood lines to the degree that the last emperor was considered more human than elf.

  “Point made.” Callix tipped his face up to the ceiling. “He’s made some deal with her, one that makes me believe he’ll tell her where the Blood of Lireal is in exchange for his ashes.”

  “I know.”

  “Then maybe you just tell her the truth so she doesn’t try to kill you to save Dev?”

  Varrik blew on the steaming tea to cool it. “Because she won’t let Loku kill me.”

  “Are you certain of that?” He leaned forward, searching for any hint of doubt in his mentor. “She’s known Dev longer than she’s known you.”

  Varrik paused, his cup inches from his lips, and stared into nothing. “She will not allow him to kill me,” he repeated, his words shakier than before.

  But he’d already revealed his uncertainty. “Do you have another plan in the works?”

  “Perhaps.” Another sip. “But first, I must speak with Arden.”

  “You’re asking for trouble.”

  Varrik gave him a weak smile. “Perhaps I am, but I still believe in my daughter. Sazi said she has a good soul, and I will trust in that.”

  “Fine, but if you need me to knock her out again, just give me a shout.” He managed to keep his words light and his posture nonchalant as he stood and exited the study.

  The second he closed the doors behind him, his façade crumbled. His hands shook, and the same frantic pulse consumed his heart as it had in the days leading up to his turn to become the next Protector. He’d escaped that fate, but just barely. And now the man who’d taken his place was about to be executed.

  Callix raked his fingers through his hair, wishing he could silence the what-ifs. Syd had been the sixth Soulbearer, the one who followed his uncle, Quertus. It wouldn’t be that hard to imagine himself in Dev’s place. What if he were the one waiting in an Ornathian dungeon? Would he even have someone who cared enough about him to embark on such a dangerous mission? Or would he have already succumbed to the madness that consumed all the Protectors once they became the Soulbearer?

  He closed his eyes and drew in a shaky breath. He couldn’t dwell on things he had no control over. He could only control what was happening now.

  And until the Soulbearer and the chaos god left Lothmore, he would be on guard for any signs of trouble.

  Chapter 8

  Arden’s head pounded like a herd of stampeding cattle when she opened her eyes. Darkness surrounded her, with the exception of the red glow from the dying embers of a fire. A second passed before her eyes adjusted to the dim light enough to make out the shadows. Cinder lay stretched out beside her on the bed, the steady rise and fall of his chest one of sleep. A glance around the room revealed a familiar bed, wardrobe, and washstand.

  Her room in Lothmore Palace.

  But in the chair beside the fire sat a creature with large, dark wings that burned orange from the fading firelight. The person turned to her and said in her musically accented voice, “Are you awake, Soulbearer?”

  Sazi.

  There was little hope of hiding from her, so Arden propped herself up on her elbows and winced. Every little movement intensified the pain in her head. “I’m awake, unfortunately.”

  “Does your head pain you?” Sazi rose and moved the side of the bed, placing a warm hand on the place where the throbbing originated.

  A warm, peaceful magic flowed into Arden’s aching skull, and the pain disappeared.

  “Better?” Sazi asked.

  “Much.” She sat up all the way and tried to piece together the holes in her memories. She remembered arriving at her father’s home, but once Loku took over, it became a blur. “What happened?”

  “You let him have too much control over you,” Sazi replied like a teacher correcting an errant pupil.

  “Tell me something I don’t know.” Arden ran her fingers through her tangled hair until she found the matted knot in the back. “I have you to blame for this.”

  The chaos god didn’t answer.

  She turned to find Sazi watching her, her brows drawn together. But when she’d realized she been caught, the Ornathian averted her gaze.

  “Let me guess—my father contained him.”

  “No, Soulbearer, I contained him.” She wrung out a washcloth and handed it to Arden. “For the blood in your hair.”

  Arden swiped the cloth over the knot, slowly dislodging the clots. “And who do I have to thank for this?”

  “Callix.”

  Figures. “And I suppose you’re here to keep me from finding that stupid relic and saving Dev’s life.”

  The sharpness of Sazi’s glare froze Arden, as did the bite in her whispered words. “There is nothing stupid about the Blood of Lireal. It was a gift from the goddess that protected my people for many generations.”

  “Then why are you blocking me at every turn?”

  “Because your intentions cloud your judgment.” Sazi snatched the washcloth back and rinsed it out in the basin. “You are so desperate to save Dev that you are blind to the consequences of your actions.”

  The words hit Arden like a slap in the face and revived her ire. “And you’re just counting down to the moment when you can smash his head open and appease your precious goddess.”

  Now it was Sazi’s turn to freeze. “What has he told you?”

  The image of Dev being led to the altar haunted her again, and she drew her legs up to her chest to drive away the chill forming in her heart. “He’s shown me what will happen to Dev if I fail.”

  “But has he shown you what will happen if he succeeds?” She offered the washcloth, but when Arden didn’t take it, Sazi sat on the edge of the bed and took over removing the blood. “Remember, there was a reason why his soul was extracted from his body. The minute he finds a body to inhabit, he tries to seize control, but as long as he resides within you, he can be contained. That is your duty as the Soulbearer.”

  Her eyes burned as she listened and understood why Sazi was refusing to help her. “I never a
sked for any of this.”

  “No, but you were chosen for a reason.”

  “Yeah—Loku saw I was Varrik’s daughter and thought I’d get him close enough to retrieve his ashes.” She’d known that since the last time she’d come here, and yet the truth still stung. Just when she thought she could reach some level of peace with Loku, he pulled another stunt like this, manipulating her to his will.

  “But he was wrong.” Sazi turned to face Arden and placed her hands on her shoulders. “There is a great power within you, Arden Soulbearer. One that grabbed Loku’s attention, yes, but one that you possessed long before him. And I have seen you use it for good.”

  “And yet I can’t use it to save the man I love.” The frustration that burned in her eyes spread into her chest and squeezed her heart.

  “Do not say that yet. We still have time.”

  “We?” Arden raised one brow as she waited for Sazi to respond.

  The Ornathian smiled. “Yes, we. I cannot help the way Loku wishes I would, but I will do all I can to help you with your mission. You will need a guide through my people’s lands, after all.”

  Arden blew out a sigh of relief tempered with caution. Perhaps she’d finally found an ally who wasn’t trying to manipulate her. Perhaps not. But at least Sazi was willing to offer some assistance instead of blocking her efforts. “And do you think we’ll be able to find the relic in time?”

  “We can only hope.” The sincerity in her words matched the warm vibe she radiated.

  Hope. For the first time since Dev was taken, the emotion bloomed inside Arden’s chest. Yes, she could hope.

  “Rest now, Soulbearer. We have much to discuss in the morning.”

  Sazi left the room, and Arden curled up around the warm, slumbering fire wolf. Sleep evaded her, and she dared not release Loku from his containment until she felt strong enough to control him. Her mind raced with dozens of scenarios, both good and bad. Finding the relic and rescuing Dev. Not finding it, and Dev dying. Exchanging Loku’s ashes for the relic, only to have Loku flood the world with chaos again. Not cooperating with Loku, only to be driven insane in retaliation until she finally took her own life at the feet of the next person chosen to be his Soulbearer.