by White, Gwynn
Soul-Forged blinked at her side. “Tell him about all those yummy souls I munched through in the tavern.”
Teeth gritted, she pulled him from his sheath and held him up for the king to see. “We reaped the Nyhans killed in the tavern, sire.”
Soul-Forged glowed happily.
Drawn to the light, Elion, Sundamar, and the king’s eyes focused on him.
“That is truly an amazing sight,” Elion breathed.
She shrugged and said what they wanted to hear. “As soon as Soul-Forged and I find the Bone—which we will, sire—we can restore it to strength with the souls of the Fae who stole him.”
“Liar, liar, your pants are on fire,” Soul-Forged chanted. “Tell him what you really plan, Nasty Reaper.”
It took all her effort to ignore him and to concentrate on the king.
After a long, silent pause, the king nodded. “I’ve had the privilege of working with two Soul-Reapers—you are the third. In each instance, it was only after the first Reaping that things settled down in the triad of power. I expect the same will occur with you, Soul-Reaper. No one can doubt that you’ve been sorely tried. The challenges you’ve faced have been extraordinary.” His voice hardened. “Just don’t be found wanting again.”
Soul-Forged at her side, she bowed low. “It’s not my intention to fail again, sire.”
The king slid a finger under her chin. “Rise, Lady Caeda.” Once she was eye to eye with him, he added, “Now that you have reaped, I know the mantle sits firmly on your shoulders. From now on, I don’t care what you do, or who you use to help you, but find our Bone and return it to me for safekeeping.” He slapped both Elion and Sundamar on the shoulder. “The council will need briefing.” Halfway to the door, he stopped and looked at Dominik.
His face had regained most of its color, and his chest rose and fell in peaceful sleep.
The king’s lips twitched. “I will inform the princess so she can check on him.”
And then they were gone.
She looked around for the healer, but he had vanished, too. She was alone with Dominik. Who knew how long that would last before she was called to Izanna’s dungeon cell? Not wanting to be disturbed, least of all by Taliesin, she closed the door.
Suddenly exhausted, she looked around for a chair. There wasn’t one, so she sat on the edge of Dominik’s bed.
The wound above his heart was no more than a thick pink line.
She ran a gentle finger down the tender skin, and a flush of cold anger swept through her. He’d come so close.
“The Sad Fae was a breath away from his end,” Soul-Forged taunted. “The Nasty Reaper was afraid she’d lose her love.”
She pinched her eyes shut. Thanks for the recap. Don’t forget to add that you were no help at all. And I’m not in love with—he’s betrothed, and that’s the end of it.
Soul-Forged sniggered. “If you say so, Nasty Reaper.”
You’re the one who’s nasty. You could have helped us in the tavern. You could have prevented this. She waved at the closed wound, at Dominik’s sleeping form. And when you did help, all you wanted was to stuff yourself on souls, even though you knew I don’t support it.
“You would grind my Bone to dust.” He hummed that five-note tune he loved so much. “You cannot be allowed to find it, you cannot.”
So you’d rather see me and countless others dead? You’d rather see the Nyhans wield it against us? Is that what you want?
The off-key singing stopped. Soul-Forged’s anger rolled through her head and down her body. “I once had a kingdom, too, filled with my kind. Your kind—Fae just like you—killed them without thought. Fae must pay through blood and tears and loss. My Bone keeps you fighting. My Bone could wipe you all out—or make you wipe yourselves out.”
She balled her hands around the blood-crusted sheets. These are innocent Fae you’re allowing to die. Just like your... kind were innocent.
Soul-Forged snorted. “I thought I told you, Nasty Reaper. There are no innocent Fae. It could be anyone. Anyone!”
Unlike you, I’m not going to stand by and watch war destroy everything good in this world. I won’t watch your evil Bone destroy innocent lives. Her gaze fell on Dominik’s sleeping face—the slight flutter of his ebony lashes telling her that he was dreaming. And if you won’t help me, then I’ll find someone who will.
“Good luck with that.” Soul-Forged started to hum.
She gnawed her cheek. You said you’d tell me your real name. What are—were you and your kind?
“Lalalalalala!”
She cringed at the racket in her head.
“Soul-Forged will never tell! Not ever.”
It was a relief when Dominik stirred. “Water.”
She grabbed a jug from a nearby bench and filled the accompanying glass. Wordlessly, she moved the stone off his forehead, propped his head up, and brought the glass to his lips.
He took a few sips, then laid back on the pillow. He allowed her to replace the stone, watching her every move though eyes brightened by the healer’s drugs. “I must be in love. It doesn’t even bother me that I lost half my blood, as long as you’re here with me.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“Is that another word for ‘in love’?”
She took his hand. “You’ve got to stop telling me you love me.”
“Why? It’s the truth. I’ve loved you from afar for a long time now. What harm could it do to love you from up close?”
“Taliesin is coming to see you,” she replied, trying to ignore the swell of pain in her chest. “And I’m pretty sure the healers have got you doped.”
He chuckled, and his hand clamped around hers.
“You should sleep,” she said, looking studiously at his neck to avoid his eyes, his lips, his tanned chest, the rippled muscles across his stomach—
“I don’t want to sleep. I want to kiss you.”
Her head snapped up. No longer hazed with drugs, his brilliant green eyes caressed her—like he saw every inch of her: the beaten daughter who had run away; the guard who had loved Yatres, and would have done anything to defend her king, the Sword, the Bone; and the Soul-Reaper who now longed to destroy the Bone, even if it meant her king labeled her a traitor. He saw her. And he loved every inch of what he saw.
“Kiss me, Caeda.”
“Taliesin! Yoo-hoo, Sour Fae! The Nasty Reaper and Sad Fae are k-i-s-s-i-n-g.”
Not caring what her manic Sword thought or that Taliesin could arrive at any second, she leaned in and brushed her lips against his. Nothing like the brutality that had brought them together, her touch was soft against his warm, firm mouth. His hand curled through her hair, and he tugged her closer.
Possessively.
Heat burned in her. She swung her legs up onto the bed and crushed her body to his. He rolled toward her, tumbling stones onto the bed. She smiled, happy to be so wanted. His tongue swept into her mouth. She moaned at the taste of him, meeting him stroke for stroke. Finally, breath coming in rasps, he broke away, only to nibble her lip.
The door clicked open.
She swore and pulled away from him.
A Fae cleared his throat, the sound wonderfully familiar. She looked across the room at Dain.
His brown eyes were hard, and his lips set in a straight line. “What the hell did you think you were doing, Caeda?”
She held up her hands. “Kissing Taliesin’s betrothed. Surely you, of all Fae, know what a kiss is.”
He swatted the air. “I meant at the tavern.” He glowered at Dominik. “You could have been killed, and Caeda taken by those bastards.”
Dominik pushed her aside and sat up, although his arm still clasped her waist. “Did you catch any of them?”
Dain crossed his arms. The steel strapped to his chest clanged against his vambraces. “The tavern was already a bloodbath by the time we got there. And the Bone was gone.”
Just as they’d expected. She suppressed a sigh of relief that the Bone hadn’t fallen into
the king’s clutches.
“We’ve picked up Lady Izanna. Caeda, I was commanded to tell you that she’s in the cells.”
She winced at his unrelenting harshness. “I’m sorry, Dain. But we had to go alone.”
He barked a humorless laugh. “And I’m sorry to break it to you, Soul-Reaper, but you don’t get to go anywhere alone anymore. Don’t you realize you could have been killed tonight?”
She jumped off the bed and folded her arms. “Having a fancy Sword has in no way diminished my capacity to reason, Dain. We didn’t want anyone else getting into trouble.”
Dain glared at them both. “What kind of trouble? Because I know you’re not talking about the Nyhans or a couple of thugs. You both know better than anyone how to handle that. So what are you hiding?”
She gnawed her cheek. “I can’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
“Because you won’t understand,” Dominik said. “I barely do.”
Dain scratched the back of his head. “I will if you tell me. And I’ve already figured that things are happening… between you two.” He swore. “Caeda, I hardly know you right now.”
She shook her head decisively. “You might hate me if you knew my plans. But please trust me when I say that Laylea would approve.”
His brown eyes were calculating as he watched her watching him. “It’s the Bone, isn’t it? And that?” He jerked his chin at Soul-Forged.
“Nasty Reaper, tell Loyal Fae that I object to being jerked at.”
“His name is Soul-Forged. And he doesn’t like having chins jerked at him.”
Dain’s shoulders slumped. He walked over to the bed and brushed her face. “Caeda, you’re my best friend.” He glanced at Dominik. “And… and you clearly care about him. Whatever you two are doing, or trying to do… please, just let me help you.”
Dominik canted his head. “For my part, I say thank you, but this isn’t my call to make.”
She held her breath and closed her eyes. Oh, how she wanted to tell him everything. But what could she say to make him understand? He had seen the Reaping, but it hadn’t affected him the way it had her. Hardly surprising; he couldn’t see souls the way she could. Only a Soul-Reaper could truly grasp how evil the venerated Bone was.
And could she really put him at risk of the king’s wrath? It was enough that Dominik was in the firing line—in more ways than one.
Dain sighed, probably at her silence. “At least let me come with you next time you pull a stunt like this. An extra sword at your side won’t do any harm.”
Dominik grinned. “That depends. Will the sword try to talk to her? Because if it does, I guess the answer will be no.”
Dain managed a smile. “No. But I may chat her ear off.”
She smiled, pleased that the two Fae she cared for seemed to be getting along. Her arms wrapped around Dain, surprising herself as well as him. “I promise I won’t do anything stupid without calling you first.” She yanked away and shoved his shoulder playfully. “I’ve missed you.”
He gave her a crooked smile. “I missed you, too. Now please go and see Izanna before I get nailed by Garrik for delaying you.”
Her pulse spiked. Protecting Dain from Garrik wasn’t the only reason to rush. She had to get the truth from Izanna before the Bone-Crushers arrived. Whatever happened, the king could not learn of the Bone’s whereabouts before she had a chance to destroy it.
She turned to Dominik. “I would invite you to come with me, but Taliesin is visiting.”
He grimaced. “That’s the best reason for leaving. But I still have some healing to do.” He scooped the stones off the bed. “I have to get my balance back before I can take in more magic.”
Her smile faded. Would Dominik be back to full magical strength when she needed him to go with her to rescue and destroy the Bone?
If not, Izanna and the Nyhans would pay for this.
19
Followed by two guards assigned to her by Dain, Caeda strode through the Round Palace to the dungeon. Dawn had broken, cold and bright, on a snowy world. From the windows, the maze was blinding and bleak. No one would be partying in there today.
The Fae, mainly servants, stared unabashedly at the dried blood caking her clothes and skin, and crusted in her braid. Imagining their whispers about the crazy, blood-soaked Soul-Reaper and her glowing Sword, she tucked her hands into her pockets and sped up.
The entrance to the dungeon tower loomed.
Guards bowed as she swept toward them.
“What level is Lady Izanna on?” she asked the sergeant in charge.
“One level down, my lady.” He cleared his throat. “The Bone-Crushers have already been. They and the Frost-Forgers left about ten minutes ago.”
Her heart sank. She hid it behind a crisp voice. “Did they discover anything?”
“Didn’t say, my lady. Only that they’d be back after you’ve seen her.”
Maybe, just maybe, that boded well. “Thank you. I won’t be long.”
She strode to the spiral stairs. Her boots slid on the slick stone, and she had to grip the railing to keep from falling. As she descended, the air turned dank. The stench of unwashed bodies, mildew, and feces rose up to meet her.
Nose scrunched, she reached the landing and shivered.
No fires or torches burned here. The only light spilled in through a small, barred window. Skin itching at the iron bars, she strode down the row of cells, all empty, but for one.
Izanna lay on a stack of filthy hay.
The simple black tunic and leggings she’d worn to the tavern were ripped and bloody. Her arm spread out beside her, twisted, and with the bone poking through her skin at an impossible angle. All five of her fingers on that hand were blue with frostbite. Welts from the iron rippled her battered face. Both her eyes were swollen closed. Her labored breaths came out in clouds.
Caeda cringed, hating seeing someone in such pain, even if it was self-inflicted. She spoke into the silence. “Where is the Bone?”
Izanna’s eyes peeled open. “Soul-Reaper,” she croaked. Slowly, she clambered to her knees, cradling her arm like a newborn. “There has been some horrible mistake.”
She turned to her guards. “Leave us.”
Their brows creased, but they obeyed, withdrawing to the stairs. She waited for the click of their boots to fade before she spoke. “Are you saying you weren’t in the tavern? A tavern filled with Nyhan soldiers, where Dominik was nearly killed? You know I saw you there.”
Izanna sniffled through her broken nose, and her shoulders curled in. “I already told the B-bone-Crushers—” She trembled. “I—I wanted the g-glory of finding the Bone. I—I’d hoped the king would reward me.”
Her jaw tightened. What game was Izanna playing? It was astonishing that she’d held up for so long, but she had to know that pleading innocence would get her nowhere. With so much at stake, she had to get the truth from her.
And so would the king’s torturers, if she didn’t hurry.
“So you came into the tavern, told your Nyhan friends that the Soul-Reaper had just walked in, and then you left us to be captured. Left Dominik to be killed.”
“No!” Izanna wailed. “I only followed you in, I swear it.” She bounced on her knees. “I left as soon as I realized you’d seen me.”
She snorted. “Mere seconds before Dominik and I were cornered. How convenient.”
Izanna hiccupped back tears.
It didn’t help.
Fresh lines tracked through the grime and blood on her mottled face.
“Greedy Fae isn’t pretty anymore. But Greedy Fae still wants something,” Soul-Forged sang. “And that something will get her killed!”
Be quiet, you unhelpful slug.
But what did Izanna want? The Bone, or simple glory?
What did it matter? They were one and the same. And Dominik had nearly been killed in Izanna’s quest for power. It was better that she confess without violence, rather than be subjected to another round with the Bo
ne-Crushers. It would certainly make Caeda happier. Torture was just one more Yatres tradition she was coming to detest.
She used her sharpest, most uncompromising voice. “You think you can play me for a fool? Let’s look at the facts. One, you arrived on the day Ayda was killed and the Bone stolen. Two, you immediately started asking shady questions. Three, you had opportunity to steal the key from Ayda. Four, you were in the tavern.”
Izanna bit down defiantly, even though fresh blood spilled from a cut on her mouth.
“You have to see how bad it looks for you. Everyone knows you’re obsessed with the Bone. And I’ve seen what your magic can do. You could have tricked the wards and killed my friends.”
Izanna turned her face away.
“The Bone-Crushers are coming back.” She pointed at Izanna’s arm. “Do you want more bones to look like that?”
Izanna whimpered. “I have friends. Powerful friends. They won’t let—”
“Did one of those powerful friends help you steal the Bone? Perhaps the one who spirited you here from Trikarlock?”
“I didn’t steal the Bone!”
Not caring about the iron, she clenched the bars dividing them. “Izanna, I beg you, listen to reason. You’ve been used. I’ve just heard one of your noble friends toss you to the wolves. He begged the king to make you pay. The only thing that can help you now is the truth. Tell me where the Bone is, and I will plead your case with the king.”
Izanna bowed her head, letting her matted hair fall into her face. “I don’t know.”
What did Sundamar Dakar have on Izanna that she’d take the fall like this? Knowing she’d get no answer, she stuck to the easy questions. “Where did the Nyhans move it to?”
Izanna tossed her head back. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.”
She turned to Soul-Forged. I don’t believe she’s innocent. But maybe she doesn’t know where they’ve moved it.
Soul-Forged merely whistled an annoying tune.
She ground her teeth and spat a curse at him—which he also ignored. Sick to her stomach that she’d failed—again—and that this stupid Fae would suffer for it, she turned away. “The Bone-Crushers won’t stop just because you deny it. But you leave me no choice— I’m going to find the Bone with or without your help.” She added for Soul-Forge’s benefit, And that applies to you, too.