The events of the past day flooded him all at once and he wept. He wept for John, he wept for his father, and he wept for this man whose body he now wore. Will thought of Robert and how he abandoned him. When Will needed him most, Robert had left him.
Was it possible he left because there was no hope? He had not shown resignation, though. Will remembered ice running through his veins as their eyes met. However, it was possible the gravity of the situation distorted his senses. He needed to know the truth.
Robert could be anywhere by now, though.
No, Will knew he couldn’t look for Robert. He needed to leave the city. But where would he go? How would he get there? Wherever he would go, he knew he couldn’t stay here.
Will went downstairs. Before exiting his refuge, he peered through the gaps in the boards of the doorway. His current host didn’t have the greatest of eyesight. The blurs he saw during the chase didn’t come from his speed, but vision impairment. He could see up to about ten feet just fine, but distances were a struggle.
The narrow streets were filled with people going about their day. About a block to his right stood a group of what appeared to be four guards. Two of them stopped and questioned different people as they passed. The other two were checking inside windows of buildings as they advanced up—
His vision crystallized and flashed to the bluish purple of the soul realm, revealing the glow of their souls. A heartbeat later, pain shot through his head. Will fell to the floor, grabbing his head and closing his eyes. As quick as it came, it was gone. He opened his eyes and his vision had returned to normal.
That had never happened before. Why now? Why had he seen that otherworldly soul realm? He didn’t even know how to enter that realm. Was it the black magic inside him? Did something cause it to flare at this exact moment, or was it just random?
He had more questions than answers.
Will decided that figuring out what was wrong with him was a higher priority. Being from Celesti, Aralith’s center of learning, there was only one logical place to check, and he was willing to bet a place like Shadowhold would be large enough to have one.
Getting back to his knees, Will once again looked through the door. The guards were a lot closer now, but he could only see three of them. Where was the fourth?
A figure in a black tunic stepped in front of the door. Without a sound, Will flung around, placing his back to the wall next to the doorway, flattening against it as much as he could.
“Anything?” said a muffled voice in the distance.
There was a pause.
“Nah. It’s abandoned, dust everywhere.”
The guard moved on and Will resumed his post at the door. He watched them continue their search as they went steadily farther away. When they were out of sight, he slipped out of the building and into the streets.
His stomach rumbled and he realized he hadn’t eaten in at least a day.
There was only one problem. He had no money. He couldn’t buy food without any money. Will stepped out into the street and approached the first person he saw.
“Excuse…” Will paused. A low and gruff voice he did not recognize came out of his mouth. The sound was muffled and vibrated his ears as if they had water in them.
Wonderful, Will thought, another side effect of this body.
By the time he came to grips with his new voice, the individual had walked away, not even aware that Will had addressed him.
“Excuse me,” he asked the next nearest person. She was a squat lady wearing a frilly dress, carrying a parasol. “Could you spare a coin for a hungry man?”
She gasped in surprise and hurried off without saying a word.
Will turned around and approached a man, a blacksmith judging by his attire, and said, “Excuse m—”
“Buzz off!” he spat.
A few more attempts at charity ended in abject failure. The good people of Shadowhold were not so good after all.
Will wandered through the maze of alleys and bridges to the market that he had seen earlier. It was located in an open square littered with stalls and merchandise along its outer edges. People hobbled about to and fro finishing their errands for the day.
He walked around checking out the various goods for sale. He found vegetables, fruits, fish, bread, clothes, shoes, and things he wouldn’t buy even if he had the money.
Still coinless, stealing seemed the only course of action. Begging would attract too much attention from the guards, and he didn’t know what else to do. The baker’s stall appeared to be an easy target. There were a few people there, enough for a distraction, but not so many that people waiting would notice anything suspicious.
He moved near the stall, trying to look inconspicuous. When the baker wasn’t looking, he grabbed a piece of bread from an open crate and stuffed it under his shirt.
Shaw didn’t know where else to begin but at the beginning. The king had offered him no assistance whatsoever. He didn’t even know what the man looked like. All he had was this thing inside of him, this little piece of Drygo floating around. He didn’t know how he felt about that.
Relieved, first off. He wasn’t dead. Terrified, second. Would it let the king suck out his soul long distance? Was he permanently at the man’s mercy? Could the king now read his thoughts? He hoped not, but then he didn’t think so or he’d be dead already.
The only person he hated more than the king right now was Will Sumner.
“Hey, Shaw,” someone said, interrupting his thoughts. Shaw glanced in the direction of the voice and saw Henrik Markle walking toward him.
“Henrik,” Shaw said in a flat voice. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with the drunkard.
“Haven’t seen you at the taverns lately,” Henrik said. “Where you been?”
“On assignment,” Shaw answered as he walked away.
Henrik kept pace with him and wouldn’t leave him alone.
Shaw stepped up on the platform where Will had been executed. Henrik didn’t follow, choosing to wait at the bottom.
Shaw took stock of the scene. The bodies had long since been cleared away and the blood scrubbed off as best as could be. Two dark stains still lined the end of the platform. He knelt down and touched the stain. Damp, but not with blood. It smelled of vinegar.
“What’re you looking for?” Henrik called up.
“Were you here for the execution this morning?” Shaw asked.
“Sure was,” Henrik replied. “Never miss it. Not that I had much choice. Old Hobbs closed the bar to be here himself.”
Perhaps Henrik could be useful after all.
“Tell me about it,” Shaw said.
“Strangest execution I’d ever seen,” Henrik said. “And I’ve seen a lot of them. No, that’s not true, there was that time when—”
“Just cut to the chase,” Shaw snapped.
“Oh, yeah,” Henrik said with a frown. “Fine, fine. The king got all upset about something—don’t know what—and then he jumped down here. Lots of screaming and people running away. The king went all the way to the north of the square.”
Shaw jumped down and tried to imagine what the king had seen. The stone must have preserved Will’s body somehow, allowing him to move about without a body.
“Some man ran from the king,” Henrik continued. “Then he called for the guards to take up the chase. I think one of them was Harrison. You know Harrison, right?”
Shaw nodded. But he hadn’t seen Harrison since he’d made his report to Drygo after failing to acquire the prisoner.
Shaw was not a deeply religious man, except when it served him. But he offered up a quick prayer for the man at the very least as condolences for his family. It should have pained him more, but the hole from losing Gill dominated his thoughts.
The king didn’t normally make a habit of executing guards. If he did, no one would ever sign up, despite the good pay.
This stone must really be important, he thought.
“Any idea where they chased him?” Shaw asked.
“Nope,” Henrik said. “But the marketplace is that direction. Hard to avoid it. That’s where I’d check if I were you.”
Shaw thanked Henrik, left the square, and made his way to the marketplace.
Standing in the center of the market, he was at a loss.
Which direction had he gone? Shaw wondered.
“Hey!” a man yelled. “You have to pay for that.”
Shaw turned and looked at the baker’s stand. He saw someone fleeing, but he couldn’t make out any distinguishable features.
“Get back here!” the baker called out. “Thief!”
Normally, Shaw would be required to give chase, but this was not a normal circumstance. He had bigger problems than some petty thief. He picked a street at random and left the market behind.
Will ducked into a nearby alley and let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He slowly walked to the end of the alley, down a stairway leading to a deserted street, and under the tunnel created by the street above. His legs groaned in protest as he sat down, leaning against the wall.
So this is what “old” feels like.
Will pulled out the bread and bit into it. It was dry and stale, but he hadn’t had a proper bite to eat since before Celesti. That might not have mattered much if his current body had had a decent meal, but by the rumbling in his stomach, the previous owner hadn’t faired any better than Will the last few days. This whole ordeal was still quite confusing to him.
Finishing the bread, he sat there for a while and rested. It was hardly a meal, but it would work for now. John, Robert, Drygo, and this mystery man consumed his thoughts. He sighed, staring at the ground at his feet.
Fear reared its ugly head in the pit of his stomach. Not the fear he felt hours earlier, his head on the chopping block, or the fear of watching John suffer. As good as it would be to reunite with Robert, Will dreaded their conversation. He feared his judgment.
It was Will’s fault John was even there that night. Will had convinced Robert to let him come, that they needed him. It was Will who suggested John search the easiest part of the castle. He had promised Robert John would be fine, but then Will raised the alarm and John got caught.
Will closed his eyes, shook his head, and decided it was best if he kept moving. But he was thirsty now, the dry bread doing little to help a parched tongue. Will pulled himself up off the ground and left the tunnel in search of a tavern.
After a few minutes, the scent of salt water drifted in on the cool breeze. His hunt was taking him closer to the harbor. Before long, the low rhythmic crashing of the waves filled his ears, growing steadily louder. As he turned the corner, the Coral Cove came into view. His mouth dropped in awe as the sun glistened and sparkled off the water. At the dock nearest him, a ship sailed in and workers busied themselves tying it down.
One of the men unloaded a crate full of bottles from the ship and carried it into a building directly across from the dock. In front of the door hung a sign that read The Golden Rose, swinging back and forth in the wind.
Will pushed open the door of the tavern. As he stepped through the door, he was assaulted with the stench of stale beer, sweat, and vomit. The ceiling hung low, which made the room feel smaller than it was, a matter complicated by the poor lighting.
To the left of the entrance was a bar along with four barstools in front of it. The barkeep stood behind it cleaning a mug with a dirty rag. Behind him were shelves of wine bottles and beer kegs. To the right sat six tables plus another five booths that lined the walls. They were mostly full with men of all shapes and sizes.
Will scanned the room for Robert. He didn’t expect to see him, but a tavern would be the most logical place to find him if he were still in Shadowhold. Though Robert wasn’t a huge drinker, he could down an ale or two from time to time. To Robert, the value of a tavern lay not in its golden liquid, but in loose tongues that provided another form of gold.
As he expected, Robert was nowhere in sight. Will approached the bar and took a seat.
“What’ll it be?” asked the barkeep.
He wouldn’t have minded an ale, but he had no way to pay for it.
“A water,” he replied.
The barkeep gave him a quizzical look, but came back a moment later with a glass of water.
Will nodded his thanks and took the drink. A moment later, two men came through the door and sat down at the bar beside him. One was mildly overweight and had a crooked nose while the other was thin and gaunt.
“Merle, Stan,” the barkeep said, greeting the pair. They both acknowledged him with a wave.
“Got a pretty good haul today, how ’bout you?” asked the man with the crooked nose. Will gathered that was Merle.
“Not too bad. I’ve had better, though,” replied Stan, “these taxes certainly ain’t helping any.”
The barkeep came by and took their orders.
“They’re bearable when the fish are ’round and the catch is good,” said Merle. “But I don’t know how the king expects us to pay in the winter months when we can barely feed our families.”
Stan added, “Three times now the king’s men have come by demandin’ to inspect my ship. Then they claim I’ve exceeded my limit and confiscate half of my catch. Between the taxes and these so-called ‘limits’ I just can’t keep up.”
The barkeep returned and handed them both a mug, white foam cresting the tops.
“I hear ya, mate,” replied Merle as he took a huge drink. Then he lowered his voice, “Cheer up, though, rumor is the Raven is about to make his move.”
The other man set down his own mug and scoffed, “Don’t go believin’ everything you hear. The Raven and his Revenant are nothing but a fairy tale. Probably started by the king himself so you’ll keep working, looking for a deliverance that will never come.”
“’Tis true, it is. I know it is,” Merle said, nodding with confidence. “Got a friend whose cousin’s nephew’s friend is supposedly part of the lot.”
“Ah, listen to yerself, ‘friend of a friend of a friend.’ No, I’m tellin’ yeh, it’s a load of hogwash and yeh best stop talkin’ like that or yer liable to get arrested for dissent,” Stan said, finishing his first mug. “I gotta take a leak.” At that, he stood up and walked off.
“What’s this about the Revenant?” Will asked with a measure of hesitation in his voice.
Merle eyed Will suspiciously then said, “No one knows really, only rumors and stories. Word is they’ve been responsible for stealing military goods, poisoning their food supply, that sort of thing. They’re a thorn in Drygo’s side. No one ever sees them, though, and none of them have ever been caught. They’re like ghosts.”
Will had heard the stories, too. They were what inspired him and his brothers to rise up and fight. Nothing important ever happened way up in Celesti, though, it was too far from the king’s royal seat.
“And this Raven?” Will asked.
“Nothing to tell. Shrouded in mystery that one.”
He took a swig of his ale.
Will frowned. “What did you mean they’re about to make their move?” he asked
“Well, up to this point, they’ve been more of a nuisance than a real threat. Suppose they’re looking to do something big like assassinate someone or attack a garrison. Beats me,” Merle replied.
“Say someone wanted to join them, what do they do?” Will asked.
“I dunno,” was all he said.
“Didn’t I hear you say you knew a man who was a part of it?”
“If you heard that then you also heard I don’t really know him or if he even exists. No, I reckon you can’t find what don’t want to be found. I reckon it finds you.”
7
“Where are we going?” Robert asked.
“Never you mind,” the older man said.
The stranger squatted in an abandoned alleyway at the far edge of the city, the massive cliff face towering directly above them. Robert could tell they were down near the harbor, but he couldn’t se
e it.
“If you expect me to go any farther, I want to know where we’re going,” Robert demanded, stomping his foot.
The man stood and got in Robert’s face. “You think I care whether you come or not?” he asked. “Because it matters little to me.” Then he squatted down again.
Robert blinked and took a step back. “Then why am I here?”
The man took a deep breath and his shoulders sagged a bit. “Because I thought I saw a spark in you, and, with the right care, sparks can turn into infernos. But perhaps I was wrong.”
Robert huffed. “You’re the one who intervened. I would have went all inferno on that platform just a few minutes ago.”
“No. You would have been snuffed out of existence before it set anything alight,” he said, smirking. “But there’s that fire. At least I don’t completely regret bringing you along.”
His hands reached around on the ground, feeling the different stones.
“Maybe I would feel better about this if I at least knew your name,” Robert said.
“My name?” the stranger asked. “My given name is no longer of any importance. But everyone calls me Talon—Ah, here we are.”
His fingers slid between the gaps in the stones. He grunted as he pulled, lifting the stones up out of the ground. Instead of the single stone coming away, a whole section came away at once. The stones were stuck to a metal panel, which Talon pulled free from the alley floor and slid a foot away.
A shaft lay beneath it, a ladder leading into the darkness beyond.
“Get in,” Talon said, motioning for Robert to enter.
Robert didn’t immediately move. He was growing more uncomfortable by the minute. A strange man with a strange name telling him to go into a strange hole in the ground… What if he went in and never came out again. Who knows what manner of creatures might lie beneath or maybe he was about to be sold into slave labor.
Soul Render (Soul Stones Book 1) Page 6