A Soul for Trouble Page 8

  Her body stilled. The softness of her curves pressed against his chest. He stared down at her trembling lips. Why would anyone ever cast her aside? Lightning lit up the sky, driving away the shadows on her face for a brief second. The beauty of her spirit called to him. The sudden urge to kiss away her fears overwhelmed him.

  The first raindrops pelted them from the heavens, but neither one of them moved. His head inched closer to hers. She lifted her chin, yielded to him. Just before she closed her eyes, the golden-green halo in them flashed, and she gasped.

  Dev released her and backed away as if she’d burned him. Dear Jussip, what had he been thinking? She was the Soulbearer, and he’d almost given into his baser desires and kissed her.

  And judging by the flash he’d seen, Loku had witnessed his moment of weakness. Some protector he was turning out to be. Sometimes he couldn’t even keep his head on straight when he was around her.

  “I refuse to end up like her,” Trouble whispered. Her shoulders sagged under the weight of her confession. The rain ran down her hair, forming tiny rivulets along her clothes.

  For the last century, he’d questioned the gods’ wisdom when they’d punished him and made him the Soulbearer’s protector. His duty had exposed him to the worst in humanity—the weakness, the greed, the cruelty. All things he had seen in himself at one point, but magnified threefold. And yet, as he stared at this fragile girl in front of him, he finally understood why fate had chosen him—to save her. “And you’ll never have to, Arden. I promise you that.” A scream pierced the night, followed by the distant clang of swords. The familiar coldness of undead crawled up his spine.

  Dev tightened his grip on his sword.

  Chapter 12

  Arden spun around. Her wet hair lashed against her cheeks, and the smell of rotting corpses filled her nose. All the blood drained from her face. It had taken the necromancer three days to catch up with them, and now he was nearly on top of them.

  Distant voices shouted between the sounds of fighting. Some unsuspecting party had stumbled across the undead. Would they have any idea how to kill them?

  Loku snorted. “Ranellians refuse to believe undead exist. What makes you think they’ll know what to do when they meet them? It will be lambs to the slaughter.” Dev grabbed her arm and steered her to the horses. “Let’s go before they find us.”

  “But what about the others?”

  “They’ll slow the necromancer down and give us a chance to escape.” She wrestled free from him. “But they’ll die unless we help them.”

  “Better them than us.”

  “How could someone who calls himself a knight think that way?” His face hardened, and he reached out to grab her again.

  She ducked out of his grasp, refusing to be affected by his cowardice.

  “I’m a knight of Gravaria, not Ranello. I owe no loyalty to this kingdom. My only duty is to keep you alive and unharmed. Now get on your horse, and let’s go.”

  “He has a point, my Soulbearer. Best to run away now and live to see another day.” They both told her to run, but her heart kept her feet planted in the ground. Why would the Lady Moon give her these powers and allow her to become a Soulbearer if she couldn’t use her gifts to help others when they needed her? She’d faced the necromancer once. She knew how to destroy the undead.

  “Don’t even think about it. You’re already exhausted from your training. There’s no way you can fight him on your own and win. ”

  “Then you’ll just have to help me,” she told Loku. To Dev, she said, “You may not owe any loyalty to this land, but you’re sworn to protect me, and I’m a Ranellian.” She grabbed her sword and ran in the direction of the fighting, ignoring Dev’s shouts for her to come back.

  The wind whipped through the trees, causing their branches to claw at her face like dozens of spindly hands. The clouds blocked any light from the moon. The rain came at her sideways now, so she lifted her arm to shield her face.

  She paused at a clearing. A bolt of lightning illuminated the scene in front of her, and her heart jumped into her throat. A score of undead with their glowing red eyes shining in the darkness battled an equal number of humans in the storm. “Sweet Lady Moon, what was I thinking? ”

  “I was wondering the same thing. You wanted to help them, so do it.” The smell of death drew closer, and she turned just in time to see an undead plow toward her. The fat in his face had obviously vanished days ago, leaving the loose skin clinging to his prominent facial bones. What had once been a man was now reduced to a skull, with a sinister light radiating from his hollowed eyes.

  She tightened her grip on the hilt of her rain-slicked sword, bracing for his attack. The clang of steel echoed in her ears, and she took a step back to keep her balance. “Either Dev must have been holding back on me, or this undead is stronger than him.”

  “The first, I’m certain. Aim for the head.”

  “What? ” she managed to ask before she dodged another swing of the undead’s sword. His miss opened him up enough to allow her blade to slash through the bloated stomach. He stumbled back as his guts spilled onto the ground but continued to attack.

  A death cry pierced the night, accentuated by a peal of thunder. The humans began to fall while she struggled just to keep one from slicing her to shreds.

  “You can hack at them all you want, but until he loses his head, he’ll keep swinging.”

  “What about fire? That worked before.”

  Loku’s laughter grated on her already frazzled nerves. “I’d like to see you cast and fight at the same time. Even Dev needs to pause before he casts.” A growl drew her attention to her left. Cinder lunged at the back of an undead’s neck, hauling him to the ground so Dev could decapitate it. They made it look so easy.

  “Arden, look out! ”

  She snapped her head back to her attacker and spun out of his way. A line of fire blazed down her back where the blade traced along her skin, forcing the air out of her lungs.

  “Keep spinning with your sword up.”

  She followed Loku’s command, and her blade embedded into a solid mass. The resistance she met there slowed her down, but it didn’t stop her from sawing through the bones and sinews of the undead’s neck. His head rolled off into the darkness.

  Her lungs burned as she leaned over and sucked in the cool, damp air. She stared at the black blood that coated the sword. “I liked the scythe better. It made a cleaner cut.”

  “Perhaps we should steal one from the next farm we come across.” Despite the violence raging around her, the corners of her mouth twitched. “I’d look pretty funny riding through the kingdom with one. ”

  “But you’d make a memorable impression, my Soulbearer.” Another cry caught her attention. She straightened to her full height. Even though she’d destroyed one undead, the others kept fighting. She drew upon the fire that ached along her back, feeding it down her arms. A flash of lightning provided her with a glimpse of her targets, and the fireballs flew from her fingers.

  Instead of consuming the animated corpses like before, the flames fizzled out in the downpour. The sound of gravelly laughter echoed around her—laughter that wasn’t Loku’s. A chill raced down her spine.

  “Did your mentor not inform you that fire spells are useless in the rain?” he asked.

  Arden turned in the direction of the voice. A familiar cloaked figure stood a few yards away from her. She threw up her shields before the Necromancer could hit her with another one of his agonizing spells.

  “At least he taught you how to block a spell.”

  The words, although softly spoken, echoed in her mind and surrounded her like a plunge into an icy river. “What do you want with me?” she asked, hoping her voice didn’t waver from her shivering.

  “Arden Soulbearer, didn’t you know you’re a unique individual with powers that surpass most mages in this world? Only you can control a god.”

  “How do you know my name?”

  “You left something behind at
our last meeting.” He held up a thick, golden braid. “Now that I have something of yours, I know where you are. I can find you, learn your secrets, help you fulfill your deepest desires.”

  She reached to grab her hair back from him, disgusted to know he had a piece of her, but Loku stopped her. “It’s a trick, my Soulbearer. He wants you to lower your defenses so he can attack. Don’t fall for his threats.”

  Something invisible poked at her shield, looking for weak spots. She reinforced them and glared at the Necromancer. “You speak nothing but lies.” From under the hood, two red orbs flashed. “I can speak to you of the true horrors of this kingdom. Have you seen what the king does to witches like you?” The image of five people tied to trees while flames licked at their writhing bodies filled her mind. The odor of burning flesh made her stomach heave, and the victims’ screams drowned out the battle around her.

  “Get him out of your mind, Arden.”

  With a whimper, she shut her eyes and forced the image away, knowing it would haunt her later. What if she was caught before she made it to Gravaria? Was this the fate that waited for her?

  “Yes, horrific, wasn’t it? King Heodis forced me to watch as he reduced my family to ashes for practicing magic. But we could change that. Wouldn’t you like to see justice dispensed?”

  Her thoughts turned to Hal. She’d love to see him on his knees, begging her for forgiveness after everything he had done to her and her mother. She laughed as Jenna and all the other people in Wallus who called her a freak cried out for mercy when she had her revenge.

  “It’s all an illusion. Don’t believe anything he says.” The Necromancer took a step toward her, and a new wave of magic assaulted her shields.

  “I can help you. I can free you of Loku.”

  “The only way you can free me of Loku is by killing me.”

  “That’s what your mentor wants you to believe. I have the power to free souls. I could teach you how to do it if you come with me.” He held out his hand, beckoning her.

  To be free of Loku? To no longer be a Soulbearer, but to have the chance to live a normal life? Was it even possible?

  “Your soul is bound to mine. He’ll not only remove my soul, but yours as well, leaving you a hollow husk of what you once were. You’d be like the other undead you see around you. An animated corpse forced to do his bidding. His slave. ” She gritted her teeth. “I refuse to be anyone’s slave.”

  “You choose to believe the god of chaos over me? Who’s to say he doesn’t want you for his slave? A body forced to do his bidding.” The Necromancer tilted his head back and laughed. The dim light caught on a scar that stretched from the left corner of his mouth and disappeared under the shadow of his hood. “Pick your fate, Arden, but know I won’t lose this battle. I always get what I want in the end.”

  The words had barely left his lips when Dev called her name. Keeping her shields up, she searched for him in the stormy darkness. Her heart raced when she couldn’t find him. “Dev,” she shouted back.

  The Necromancer’s mouth curled up into a snarl. “Perhaps I can help you make up your mind.” He pointed past her and said something in a rasping language she didn’t understand.

  Four undead stalked a lone figure with a wolf at his side.

  “Stop playing games,” Loku said. “We need to end this now.”

  “We? ”

  “You have to trust me. Let me help you defeat him.”

  “But if I give in to you—”

  “If you don’t, Dev will be killed and turned into an undead. Do you want that? ” Her mouth went dry. What would she do if Dev became her enemy? He seemed to be her only ally in the craziness that filled her life over the last week. The seconds ticked by as she watched the four undead surround him and begin attacking. He and Cinder tried to hold them off, but fatigue labored his swings. He wouldn’t last long against them.

  “What do you have in mind? ”

  “There’s more than one way to kill an undead. Coat your hand with the blood on your sword and trust me.”

  As she smeared the black goo across her palm, Dev’s voice cried out. One of his attackers’

  blades sliced through his thigh, and her protector fell to the ground.

  “Give yourself to me now, Arden.”

  She closed her eyes and surrendered to Loku. He seized control of her body. Magic like she never imagined coursed through her veins. Ice crystals coated her hand, and the wind whipped around her with renewed fury. All she could focus on was saving Dev. Her lips began to move, and words she’d never used before tumbled from them.

  The power welled up inside her, threatening to explode. Fear gripped her. Her pulse raced in her ears. What had she agreed to do? The storm intensified. Sleet stung her cheeks. Her knees wobbled. How much longer could she bear this before it destroyed her?

  “Don’t worry, my Soulbearer. I could never harm you.” A pair of invisible, strong arms encircled her, keeping her hand up while Loku continued to cast through her. She leaned back against the warmth and security he offered and let the oblivion consume her.

  She lost track of time. Seconds could have passed, or hours. When her consciousness returned, her body felt like all the life had been drained from it, leaving her a limp rag doll. She fell to her knees and slowly opened her eyes.

  An eerie silence hung in the clearing. Even the rain had stopped. Tendrils of white fog swirled around her, parting to reveal the Necromancer encrusted in a block of ice in front of her.

  She gasped, stumbling back into the mud. What had they just done?

  The crack of glass shattering broke the silence. “The undead are frozen,” a voice shouted through the fog.

  “Destroy them while you can,” Dev answered, and the tinkle of more ice breaking reverberated through the clearing.

  “We turned them into ice, Loku? ”

  “I told you there was more than one way to destroy undead.” Her eyes grew heavy, and her sword slipped from her fingers. They had beaten them. Dev was still alive. And the Necromancer had been stopped. She would have laughed in delight if she could’ve found the strength to do so. But all she wanted to do now was curl up into a ball and sleep. Her enemies were all ice sculptures now. There was nothing to fear.

  A loud crack rumbled the ground under her, and something hard smashed against her temple. A red flash of pain filled her vision before the blackness descended upon her.

  Chapter 13

  When Dev saw the first cracks in the ice surrounding the Necromancer, he ran toward Trouble as fast as he could with his injured leg. Magic illuminated the fissures forming in the ice, and the resulting explosion catapulted fist-sized chunks through the air. He dropped his sword and dove for her, but he couldn’t get to her before one of the blocks connected with her temple. Her eyes widened for a second before they rolled back, and she collapsed into the mud.

  He shielded her from the rest of the debris with his body and his magic, exhaling with relief when he felt her warm breath on his hand. He still couldn’t believe what he’d just seen.

  Trouble, the little slip of a barmaid he’d rescued less than a week ago, had turned the Necromancer’s army into statues of ice. Of course, she didn’t do it alone. Her eyes glowed bright yellow-green while she cast, and her voice deepened when she recited the incantation.

  Loku had seized control of her.

  His shields buckled, and he looked up. Even though the rain had stopped for the moment, lightning still illuminated the sky and the face of their enemy. The scar that ran along the Necromancer’s left cheek added a new level of sinister to his snarl.

  “Give her to me,” he whispered.

  “You’ll have to kill me first.”

  Shadows emerged from the darkness around them. “I won’t have to, mage. The Ranellians will do that for me. You know how low their tolerance for magic is.”

  “So you can expect the same treatment from them.”

  The Necromancer laughed, sending a chill into the very core of Dev’s b
ody. “Sooner or later, I always get what I want.” He produced a dagger from under the folds of his cloak and held it out for Dev to examine. The same dagger that killed Robb.

  The memory of his failure tore at him like a barbed whip. He lifted his body, muscles poised to spring, but stopped himself. The Necromancer wanted him to lower his shields and attack. That was the only way he could get to Trouble. He cradled her in his arms, pulling her closer to his chest. Whatever happened to him, he refused to let her suffer the same fate as the prior Soulbearer. “As long as my shield holds, no one will hurt her.”

  “And how long will it hold with your leg bleeding like that?” The Necromancer’s hand tightened around the dagger’s hilt. “I can feel your magic weakening with each beat of your heart.”

  The Ranellians circled them, coming close enough to where he could see the stark lines of their features in the night.

  The Necromancer ignored them. “As long as my shield holds, we can continue this stalemate for days, Protector.”

  Dev sized up the humans. He needed to make sure they were on his side. “And who do you think they’d attack first? You, who ordered the undead to attack them? Or me, who came to their aid?”

  “The law of the kingdom still stands.” He inched closer so that his shield butted against Dev’s. “King Heodis is not known for his mercy.”

  From the crowd, a voice replied, “And I intend to carry out the King’s justice.” Steel flashed through the air and sliced through the Necromancer’s wrist. His screams echoed off the trees as his hand fell to the ground, the fingers still clutching the hilt of the dagger. Before the Ranellian could come in for another attack, red magic exploded from the Necromancer’s other hand, knocking all the humans to the ground.