The Legends of Regia Box Set: The Complete Series. Books 1-7

by Tenaya Jayne

  He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “I’m no hero. I don’t have any illusions about that, but you said I could hold a soul. I need to learn how. If someone I executed was innocent…could I somehow give them a chance to right the wrong?”

  She pursed her lips. “Hmm…that’s quite an idea, X.” She considered the possibilities. “Go ahead and cut that tree down. I have some work to do on this concept. We’ve got our work cut out for us. I’ll try to get most of it done before dinner tonight. We can talk about this again then.”

  He picked his axe back up as she strode back to her house. She knew now what she was going to do with the other stone from Mordian.

  Maggie took the stone from its hiding place in the crack in the wall and sat down on the floor with it. Her heart began pounding as she laid it down in front of her. The stone was the same cloudy white as the one hanging around her neck. Her mind raced through flashes of ideas. The necromancer spell had cracked her stone in half. Inspired by that, she decided she needed to cut this stone in two as well.

  Touching the tip of her bone wand to the stone, she closed her eyes and began building the spell with whispered words. A surge went out from her hand, into the wand, and filled the stone. The stone vibrated on the floor, gently at first. The tremors grew until the stone jumped. Light flashed painfully into her eyes as the stone broke into two equal pieces. Smoke rose up from the split edges.

  She hummed and chanted a few Mordian words, as she ran the tip of her wand around the rough sides of each piece, over and over until both were smooth and rounded. She put her wand down and held the stones in her hands. This will work.

  She got up from the floor, placed the stones on the bed, and spun a long strap of black leather out of thin air. Instinctively, she knew how long she needed it to be, just as she had known the right size to make X’s clothes. As she tied knots around the stones her vision blurred, and her necklace flashed. Her hand trembled as she lifted the stone and looked into it. She saw X, perhaps only a day or two in the future…what she saw confirmed the truth of what he said he’d dreamed.

  Maggie had finished her work by noon, and running on excited jitters, she busied herself with making bread and beginning soup for dinner. Anxious to show him what she’d done, she didn’t want him wandering off to go fishing that afternoon. The constant sound of his axe allowed her to keep tabs on him without having to glance in his direction every few minutes.

  He finally quit in the late afternoon. She couldn’t help but be impressed with his physical stamina. She wished she could exert herself the way he did, for such long periods of time and still stay upright. He put his axe down next to the house, and then began walking away.

  “Wait! Where are you going?”

  He laughed as he turned back around. “I’m filthy. I’m going to wash up, so don’t watch me on your little magic spy glass, because I won’t be keeping my pants on this time.”

  She smirked and nodded. “Are you coming right back?”

  “Yes. I’ll be right back.”

  He ducked into the house and grabbed a clean set of clothes before heading off toward the river. She paced and stirred the soup while she waited. When she heard him coming back she quickly dished up food for him, anxious for him to eat so they could move on to their discussion.

  “Here. Eat fast.”

  He sat down, his hair dripping, and smiled amusedly at her. “I don’t want to burn my tongue.”

  “You won’t. It’s the perfect temperature. I swear.”

  He touched the surface of his soup with his fingertip. “You’re right.” He tucked into his food while she waited impatiently.

  “I’ll listen to you while I eat,” he said over his mouth of bread. “You’re obviously bursting to say something.”

  She shook her head. “No. I’ll just work while I wait.”

  She pulled her wand from the deep pocket in her skirt. He watched intently. She squinted and moved her wrist back and forth in quick little jerks.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Starting your truth seeing spell. It will take a few layers to mature.”

  His eyes widened. “Just like that? You’re going to make the spell, then what? Shove it on me?”

  She laughed and turned her wrist in a circle, a wisp of red smoke rose out of nothing. “Were you expecting a bit more ceremony?”

  “I don’t know. I guess.”

  “Relax and eat. I’ll not spring anything on you. It might take a few tries before the spell takes hold anyway.”

  She continued to turn her wrist, adding new colors of smoke to the red. He kept eating, not taking his eyes off what she was doing for a second. Every color he knew mixed into the ball until it was black as shadow. The glowing red of fire embers shone through cracks in the smoke. She pointed her wand straight at the cloud, shrinking it down into the size of a coin.

  “Stand up, X.”

  He did, bracing himself for the unknown.

  The smoke floated toward him and stopped right in front of his face.

  “Swallow it.”

  He exhaled unevenly, his pulse hammering. Here goes nothing, he thought, and opened his mouth. It moved in. He closed his lips over it. For a second it hovered under the roof of his mouth then it slid under his tongue and branded him. The heat of it seared through the soft flesh in the bottom of his mouth before gliding down his throat, burning like a shot of strong whiskey. The heat pooled in his stomach and then vanished.

  He looked at her questioningly. “Did it work?”

  “I created the necromancer spell just for you. I picked you long ago,” she said.

  A rush of heat, like a warm breeze, flashed inside him and then was gone. “That’s a lie! It was an accident,” he said confidently.

  She smiled broadly. “I guess it worked. From now on you will know when someone has told you a lie.”

  “Can you really talk to animals?”

  “I can.”

  No heat rushed on him this time, but he couldn’t say he felt nothing. There was a solid sensation inside him, like pressing against a boulder. This was truth. It was hard and immovable.

  He smirked devilishly at her. “Are you attracted to me?”

  She scowled. “Bastard.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  She pursed her lips and then smiled. “No.”

  He felt heat again, but this time it had hard cool places. He allowed himself time to fully experience the sensation before it faded. “That’s a half truth.”

  “You’re right. I’m not attracted to you romantically, X. I’m growing to like your personality. I recognize that you’re very nicely put together. I’d have to be blind to not see that, but I don’t fantasize about you and me. I’m not sure what my type is, but you’re not it.”

  “That is the whole truth,” he said easily. “I’m sorry for asking that. I shouldn’t have. But knowing how you feel makes me feel better, because I can honestly say that is how I feel about you. You’re very beautiful, Maggie. Like you said, I’d have to be blind to not notice, but there is nothing else. I think I’m growing to like your personality as well. Thank you for this gift of truth.”

  He held out his hand to her. “Friends?”

  She smiled and shook his hand. “Friends.”

  Her eyes brightened, and she jerked her hand out of his.

  “What? Oh, I’m sorry!” he said. “Did I hurt you? I know I shouldn’t touch anyone ever. I’m not used to having to avoid all contact yet.”

  “It’s not that. You didn’t hurt me, or pull anything of me to yourself. I could stop you if your power was doing that without your knowledge. No, I just want to give you something now. It’s what I’ve been anxious for all day…here.”

  She pulled something from her pocket and held the mess of leather straps out to him. “Hold out your hands.”

  He did without hesitation. She unwound the leather straps that were fastened like a harness around the round white stones and placed them in his hands
. They fit nicely in the centers of his palms and she fastened the straps over the backs of his hands, securing the stones in place. “These stones will act as soul cages. I have no idea how many souls will fit inside them, perhaps there is no way to overflow them.”

  He flexed his fingers, adjusting the leather. The power in his hands lit up and reached into the stones. The force pulled the stones flat against his palms like a vacuum seal and held them there. Amazed, X moved his hands and found having the stones there was not only comfortable, it was comforting, like having glass doors shut over the portals in his hands.

  “Wow,” he said quietly. But then he frowned and walked toward the house. He picked up his axe, trying to move his hands naturally on the handle with the stones over his palms.

  Maggie walked over next to him.

  “It feels awkward. I’ll have to practice.”

  “You won’t need to wear them all the time, unless you just want to.”

  “They feel good. I just need to get used to them…I…Thank you for this.”

  “It was a sacrifice, I’ll admit. Those stones are priceless. But I support this vision you’re contemplating for your life, strangely vigilante as it may be. And it’s not without thought for myself. The more accomplished you become in your gifts, the safer I will be from the wizards. Should any decide to come here, that is.”

  “Why would they?”

  “For me. If they discovered I’m alive, they would surely come to collect me.” She shivered and rubbed her arms as though cold. “I’m the last witch.”

  Before dawn, X got ready to go to the village neighboring the one he grew up in. He hadn’t been there since he was a child. No one would recognize him there. He put on his coat and pulled the hood up over his head. He fastened the stones on his hands, and then covered them with his fingerless gloves. Lastly, he slid his dagger into his belt and took up his bright, virgin, executioner’s axe.

  His hands tightened on the handle. He swung it a few times. After the second swing, he barely noticed the stones. As he continued to mimic the movements he’d need to remove someone’s head, the stones began to add a strange balance to his body. They didn’t hinder his accuracy or coordination, just the opposite. A surge of adrenaline went through his chest. It felt so damn good. All the magic inside him, and around him, felt good.

  He turned to begin the five-mile walk, when the door on Maggie’s house creaked open.

  “Catch,” she said, throwing him an apple. “I’ll be watching you.”

  He smiled. “Thanks. I hope this works like it did in my dream.”

  She frowned.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Be careful…Mind your hands.”

  He held out his gloved hands for her to see. “I am. I will.”

  “I have one more gift for you.” She came toward him and handed him a handful of black leather.

  He held it up and smiled, bemused. An executioner’s mask. “You and your gifts. I’m quite the freak now. Are you proud of the number you’ve done on me?”

  “In a way, I must say that I am. Guilt for ruining your life notwithstanding…Good luck, X.”

  He walked quickly through the forest. The adrenaline pushing him on like a sweet, cool breeze at his back. Why wasn’t he scared? When he thought about what he was about to do, why did it feel okay? Had the magic really changed him that much already?

  The dawn broke right before he arrived. People were awake or waking, already beginning their day’s work. His memories of this village were faint. He hadn’t expected it to be this large. X meandered through the streets to the center, where there was a large well, and an open market.

  The people he passed did double takes, or openly stared. Most of them moved aside and gave him a wide birth. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He caught a kid running past him by the arm, and then remembering he must not touch people, quickly let go of the boy.

  “Hey, where does the governor live?”

  The freckled face looked up at him with wide eyes before pointing across the square. “Over there, sir. He lives in the brownstone house with the tile roof.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Did he send for you? You’re our new executioner aren’t you?” the kid’s gaze fell and held on X’s axe.

  X smirked. “Perhaps.”

  The kid took a few backward steps, staring at him, before he turned and ran.

  X headed toward the governor’s house. His dream had been right; this would just fall into his lap. He paused at the door and listened. He didn’t want to wake the man if he wasn’t up.

  Faint noises of movement came through the door. He knocked.

  “Oh, bloody hell, can’t they even let me finish my coffee before they start in on me? Why did I ever let the stupid people push me into this position for a second term?” someone muttered behind the door. “Who is it?”

  “I’m your new executioner,” X said loudly to the door.

  The door swung inward. The middle aged man looked at him in surprise for a moment. He blinked, inhaled, and soothed his sleep-rumpled, salt and pepper hair back.

  “Take that hood off.”

  X pushed his hood off his head. The man blinked a few times, and then frowned. He looked at the axe X carried, and then stepped back and ushered him inside. He shut the door behind him.

  “You’re the prettiest executioner I’ve ever seen,” he muttered.

  “Is that a problem?”

  The man harrumphed. “What’s your name?”

  “Executioner.”

  “Your mother gave you that name at birth, did she?” he said snidely.

  “Call me X. What does it matter what my mother named me? Or that I’m pretty? I’ll wear a mask when I collect heads for you, if you’d prefer.”

  The man blew out a breath and extended his hand. “I’m Johnston. Governor of this fine village.” He wrapped sarcasm around the word fine as he said it.

  X looked at his hand and took a step back. “Forgive me, but I don’t touch anyone.”

  Johnston shrugged and let his hand fall. “Whatever. I’ve got a man waiting for your axe right now. The people grow more uneasy everyday he still lives. He’s a bloodthirsty monster—killed six young girls. If he escapes…” He shuddered. “We caught him by sheer luck. Most believe him to be a warlock, or some kind of demon, possessed with hellish powers. That’s how we lost Monk, our last executioner, in the struggle to subdue him…You don’t look like much. I can see you’re strong, but I’m not sure you’re up to the task, no matter how many heads you’ve chopped off. And you’re axe looks unused.”

  “It’s new, true enough. Why don’t you give me a chance? I’ll charge you nothing. Let me kill this man in private, so if you’re not pleased with my abilities, I’ll leave and never come back, and you won’t lose any face.”

  Johnston shook his head. “The people need to see him die, or the hysterics will never cease…but I like your proposition. There is someone else also waiting to die, just a normal criminal. You can kill him privately first, and then I’ll make my decision about you.”

  “Shall we go now?” X asked.

  He huffed and grabbed a mug off the desk behind him, downing the contents quickly. He wiped his mouth. “All right, let’s go.”

  X put his hood back up as he followed Johnston to the stone building they used as a jail. He felt calm and wondered that he could feel calm at all. He was about to take a human life.

  The place was dark, dank, and felt disgusting. Even the air. There were three cells. One was empty.

  Looking through the bars, X knew immediately which man was the one everyone feared. His eyes danced when he saw X. He didn’t have a scary appearance in the way of broken teeth, or a wild unkempt beard. At first glance, he looked normal, which was one thing that made him frightening. The man gave X a chill in his heart.

  The other man looked at X with placid acceptance.

  “Found a new headsman, have you Governor?” the man asked in a bored tone. “
I almost welcome his axe, just to get out of this shit hole and away from that devil next to me.”

  “Well, you won’t get any fresh air before your head jumps off your shoulders. You get the privilege of being this young man’s job interview.”

  The criminal sighed and leaned his head back against the filthy stone wall. “How insulting.”

  Johnston looked at the guard. “Go get me a round from the wood pile out back.”

  He nodded and went outside. In a minute he was back, carrying a two-foot-tall section of tree trunk. He set it down at X’s feet. Axe marks grooved the top. It was a chopping block all right, but this one had only ever had wood chopped on top of it before. X stared at it, not moving as the man was brought out and forced to kneel. He didn’t whimper or beg as he leaned over the block.

  X’s hands tightened on his axe handle. His focus sharpened as he looked at the sweat beads on the back of the man’s neck. The soul hovered in his chest, a wisp of grey smoke pockmarked with black. The man’s breathing and pulse hummed loudly in X’s ears, mingling with his own. He inhaled and swung his axe upward and brought it down.

  A shock went through his heart. A fraction of a second, a flash of light on his axe, and the edge separated the head from the body. The soul drifted up and hovered for a second in front of X. He lifted his right hand. It was effortless. The soul flew right to his hand, swirling into the depths of the stone, and there it stayed. Nothing of the man’s spirit went inside X, much to his relief.

  Neither of the other men could see the soul or what X had done with it. The guard picked up the head and carried it out of the jail.

  Johnston eyed X appreciatively and nodded. “Excellent precision. You’re hired.”

  “Thank you, sir. When would you like to handle the other one?”

  “In about an hour. I’ll spread the word around the village. Meet me at the platform in the square, with your mask on, pretty boy.”

  “Yes, sir. Shall we discuss my fee now or after?”

  “After.” The governor cast a quick glance at the man behind the bars and then left the jail.

  Alone with the man, X approached the bars, looking inside him. His soul was completely encased. Black oily cords of disease writhed around and around it like snakes.