Soulkeeper Read online

  “Is that what breaks you?” she asked. “You fear you cannot protect us?”

  “I know I can’t,” he said. “I couldn’t save the miners in Oakenwall. I couldn’t save Marigold from Gerag’s possession. Tonight it was my own sister who needed me, and I failed like I’ve always failed. I’ve failed you, Adria, Brittany…”

  His guilt crushed him into silence. His hands clawed the earth and snow. His jaw trembled with his every breath. Shivers shook through his upper back and shoulders, and he felt himself a beast struggling to escape a cage.

  “Brittany’s death,” she said. “You blame yourself, don’t you? How did she die, Devin? Please, tell me. I need to know why you think it was your fault.”

  “My fault?” At last his tears began to fall, more stubborn than the cold itself. “No, it wasn’t her death that was my fault, Jacaranda. She passed away from pains in her chest. I wasn’t even there when it happened. I arrived a few minutes before the reaping ritual.”

  Jacaranda looked to the triangle of stones between them. Her sharp mind made the connection. Still no pity as he expected. She said nothing, only waited for him to continue. Her gaze was a weight upon his already tired shoulders. He wanted to explain his grief to her. He wanted to break himself down into pieces so she might see the true wreckage of his existence.

  “If only I’d prayed harder,” he said. “If I’d more cleanly drawn the symbol of the Sisters upon the earth. I even saw it, Jacaranda, I did, I saw the brief shimmer of the luminescent memories and emotions that were her soul break free of her forehead… and then I reached out for it.”

  Devin lifted his palm and stared into its center. He remembered the orb of light steadily rising within the blue shaft stretching up to the stars themselves. To touch a soul would burn your flesh to the bone, but for one brief moment he thought he could reconnect to his lover. He would touch, not fire, but the eternal personification of his love. It was a fool’s delusion.

  “I pulled my hand away for only for a split second,” he said. “But it was enough to damn her. The soul retreated back into her body. I prayed, I begged, I cursed the Sisters and covered the ground with their symbol… it changed nothing. The reaping hour passed, and her soul remained.”

  Devin forced himself to a stand. He couldn’t bear the close proximity to the grave anymore. Jacaranda stood with him, and she brushed loose snow from her knees.

  “When I found you here that night,” she said. “You were performing another reaping ritual for her soul, weren’t you?”

  Devin softly nodded, and he felt almost embarrassed to admit it true.

  “The whole world changed. My sister heals with a touch. Tommy commands fire and lightning. I thought that perhaps things had changed for me as well. Perhaps I could finally do what I failed to do years ago, and send Brittany’s soul through the void to Anwyn’s waiting arms. I didn’t, of course. I failed like always.”

  Jacaranda took his hands in hers, and he was touched by the simple gesture.

  “Why does this bother you so?” she asked. “Brittany’s soul is in the Goddesses’ hands, is that not what you believe? Even if it takes until the end of all days for the Sisters to call her soul onward, she’ll still make the voyage.”

  “Because…” Devin felt heat growing in his neck. Could he be so vulnerable as to admit it? He couldn’t look at Jacaranda. He couldn’t speak the words if he saw her violet eyes watching him intently. “Because I thought, if she moved on, then maybe I could move on, too. That maybe I was finally ready for another to occupy that same place within me that she once did.”

  Jacaranda’s silence lingered heavily, each second a prolonged torment. Fog rolled alongside them. Scratches of daylight peeked over the distant walls.

  “Do you love me, Devin?” she asked softly.

  “I don’t know,” he whispered back. “What I do know is that I am blessed to be in your presence, and that your smile is a warm fire across my heart. I know that whatever time I spend with you is never enough. Is this love? Perhaps not yet, but it’s close, and I’d give anything to make it closer.”

  Jacaranda moved beside him. Devin didn’t know what her response would be, and he both feared it and anticipated it in equal measure. Her left arm slid about his waist underneath his coat. Her right took his hand and guided it over and around her shoulder, tucking her body against his in a gentle embrace. She pressed the side of her face against his shoulder and slowly, softly, exhaled.

  “Do I love you?” she whispered. For whom she asked, he did not know.

  She stood on her tiptoes and gently kissed his lips. Electricity sparked throughout his entire body. There was a trembling hesitancy to her kiss that made it feel all the more special, like catching in your palm the first snowflake of winter. When she pulled away, they each inhaled shallow breaths.

  “I don’t know if I can,” she whispered. “The thought of anyone touching me floods me with panic, but—but not you. Not in the same way. Give me time, Devin. I don’t think I love you yet, but maybe one day.”

  For Devin, that was more than enough. He cherished her embrace. The times since the black water had been lonely and isolating. He’d been wrong to think his troubles unique. Everyone carried different burdens, true, but they carried burdens nonetheless. All the world was changing, and if they were to survive, they’d need to cling to one another. They needed to trust one another. Tommy, Adria, even little Tesmarie and Puffy, they were his lifeblood now.

  Devin leaned his head against Jacaranda’s and wished he could give her a shred of the comfort her presence offered him. Time slipped away, and Devin did not regret a single second of it. The way she shifted showed that something bothered her, and he patiently waited for her to give it voice.

  “I’m scared of Gerag,” she said, finally breaking the silence. “He knows I’m alive now, and that you were involved. He might send Tye after us, or reveal my escape to the church.”

  Devin had given some thought to the problem, but not as much as he should, given Adria’s disappearance. He let the situation slide through his mind, the pieces of it breaking down into options and decisions.

  “Once Adria is safe, you and I will hunt down and kill Gerag Ellington, no matter the consequences afterward,” he said. “He’s a man undeserving of a burial, but you… you deserve the world.”

  Jacaranda playfully snickered at him.

  “Is this how a Soulkeeper flirts?” she asked.

  “This is how a man who has not flirted or courted in six years does, perhaps,” he said, laughing.

  She kissed his cheek, her lips just as electric as the first time, and then leaned her head atop his shoulder. Together they watched the sun crest over the walls of Londheim. Lancing golden rays pierced the surrounding fog, and for the first time that night Devin realized the two of them were not alone.

  “Devin?” Jacaranda said, stiffening against him, her shoulders twisting so his grasp about her broke. She pulled her arm away from his waist, her hand naturally falling to her dagger.

  “I see them, too,” he said softly. “Stay calm. They can do no harm.”

  Men, women, and children drifted through the fog. They walked with their heads to the sky, searching for something they could not find. Their skin was pale as the moon, their clothes muted as if covered by a fine layer of dust. Their outfits varied wildly in styles, like locked moments of time drifting about with ethereal quietness. An elderly man approached them directly, though he showed no sign of seeing them.

  “Tasha?” he mumbled to himself. “Where are you, Tasha? Grandpa promised you kisses when he returned home.”

  Devin took Jacaranda’s hand in his and clutched it tightly. The ghostly man passed through them, his gait never slowing. His passing was a layer of ice sweeping through Devin’s body from one side to the other. He let out a soft gasp. Little could compare to that strange touch. The presence was frost, yet fire seemed to burn from every inch of his skin.

  Did the Sisters grant them this vision? O
r was this another part of the changing world? He watched these wandering souls and gave his heart to them. In the time of Eschaton it was said that even these would be carried home in Anwyn’s arms as the earthly realm was swallowed into nothing and made anew, a perfect place free of the void-dragon’s corruption. Then they would know peace. For now they looked skyward, as if they knew that was where they belonged. Each one whispered and muttered to themselves the names of loved ones and forgotten places, lost in their own world of memories.

  Devin searched these wanderers without admitting to himself the reason. He didn’t want to give it voice or form, as if that alone might deny it happening. The bodies were steadily fading into the fog as the sun rose higher. Their numbers thinned, one by one, until in the far corner of the graveyard he saw his most precious ghost.

  “Brittany?” Devin said. He dared not believe it. There she was, dressed in her finest coat and gray Soulkeeper garb. Her tricorn hat tilted to one side atop her head, just as she always preferred it. Jacaranda slipped her hand from his. Confused emotions whirled through him at a rapid pace. Six years after her death, he could see her. Talk to her. He walked without realizing it, closing the distance between them. She lingered in the fog, eyes to the brightening sky.

  “Brittany,” Devin said, louder. “Brittany, it’s me!”

  She paused. His heart lit like a bonfire. Her eyes, her perfect blue eyes, turned his way. At first they showed only confusion, but then a tiny spark of recognition twisted her head. Her brow furrowed. Her mouth opened slightly. Every move she made was an instant link to a thousand memories, each little habit equally beloved.

  “Devin?”

  He’d carried a wish to hear her speak his name since the reaping ritual. The snow crunched beneath his boots as he ran. His arms reached out as if diving to save her from falling off a cliff. All else faded to black in his vision, just her, shining like a pale candle.

  Brittany vanished into the fog before he ever touched her. He collapsed to his knees. His chest heaved. The sun rose higher, its warmth a mockery. The Soulkeeper stared into nothing, his entire mind numb. He didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to speak. He didn’t want to do anything.

  Jacaranda’s hand gently settled atop his shoulder.

  “She saw you. She remembered you. I hope that gift was enough.”

  His tears fell upon the snow. The weight of the night broke him. His arms slumped. Long-closed wounds bled afresh, and he wondered how long until the hurt would cease. He wiped at his face, painfully aware of Jacaranda’s presence.

  “Fuck me, I’m a mess.”

  Jacaranda laughed. It was so pure. So genuine. She knelt beside him, took his chin into her hands, and gently turned his gaze her way.

  “It’s time to go home,” she said. “Don’t make me carry you.”

  Her smile lit his darkness. Joy among misery. Compassion among sorrow. She was everything a Soulkeeper could wish to be, and it made him cherish her that much more.

  “I don’t need to be carried,” he said. A broken laugh sent more tears rolling down his face. “But if you’d like, I’d love for you to walk at my side.”

  CHAPTER 43

  Darkness greeted Adria’s eyes when she opened them. Her stomach hitched, and for a moment she feared she’d vomit. Where was she? What was going on? She tried to move but nausea pinned her body firmly in place. A sound thumped in her ears. A heartbeat. Was it hers? If only she could sit up… no, she was already standing. Her feet shifted side to side. Not imprisoned, then; only her hands were locked in place.

  “It wakes,” a voice spoke from the darkness. Adria’s breath caught in her throat. She knew that voice. Her most recent memories crashed into her, and it took years of trained discipline to remain calm when she responded.

  “It does.”

  A soft blue light wafted upward like electric mist from her feet, though its presence upon her carried a weight like water. In its steadily spreading glow she caught the grim smile of Janus hovering mere feet before her.

  “You do not cower, plead, or threaten,” he said. “There might be hope for you yet.”

  “Flattered,” Adria said. She tugged again with her arms. She could see her robes and most of her body in the glow, and that included two metal poles sticking up from the smooth ground. The poles ended with two circles, each one a manacle about her wrists. A bizarre construction of metal surrounded her on either side, taller than her and containing dark rivets and juts that she had no names for.

  “Indeed, you absolutely should feel flattered,” he said. “Your brother and his friends search for you even now despite the danger. Their meddling summoned forth a sliver of the void. A shame they killed it. I can’t think of a more fitting fate for a Soulkeeper.”

  “They’ll find me,” she said. “And when they do—”

  “Spare me,” Janus said, cutting her off. “We have more important matters to discuss.”

  The madman paced before her, his hands clutched behind his back like a debating professor. Adria watched him, noting his jittery movements, and how his cheek twitched like someone kept pricking him with a needle.

  “Viciss finally told me the reason for your captivity,” he said. He looked torn between laughter and rage. “The reason for everything, really, the chambers, the secrets, our own centuries of imprisonment. Such a cosmic joke. A world-shattering blessing will soon be placed into your hands. Frail human hands of a human woman. Are you worthy, Adria? Can any human be worthy?”

  Adria ran the seventy-nine prayers of Lyra’s Devotions through her mind. Which of them might help her here? None of them begged for harm, only aid, succor, and strength. Perhaps the circle that had protected her from the owl, but that had lasted only a moment.

  “You ask a question I cannot answer,” she said. “Worthy of what? What blessing could you offer that I would not refuse in a heartbeat?”

  “My blessing?” He laughed. “Your mind thinks so small, Adria. The dragons themselves offer this blessing. Only a fool would refuse.”

  Perhaps if she could disorient Janus she might escape the manacles around her wrists, not that she’d have any idea where to go afterward. Darkness stretched in all directions, deep and ominous. Sena had encountered this monster before, and lived. What prayer had she used…?

  “Perhaps I am merely a fool,” she said, trying to stall.

  “I think not,” he said. “If you were, I’d have turned your body to lilies and scattered it across the river, a much kinder fate than the ash the Goddesses would leave you as.”

  He wasn’t paying attention to her, not really. Janus was absorbed into his own thoughts, debating something she was not privy to. That was fine with her. She started quiet, hoping her whisper would go unnoticed.

  “I am blind, but Lyra gives me sight.”

  Janus’s palm slammed across her mouth, silencing her.

  “Oh no you don’t,” he said. His forehead pressed against hers, and his jade eyes twinkled in the ethereal glow. “I would have us talk, but if you insist on misbehaving I will send you back into unconsciousness, and this time I’ll make sure the journey is far more painful and unpleasant than the last.”

  Adria felt a sensation like fire burn across her lips. When Janus removed his hand she tried to open her lips, but something was wrong. The skin stretched, but it would not open. Her mind rebelled against the reason, but the more she struggled the more certain she was of the bizarre horror he had inflicted upon her. Her lips no longer existed. Her mouth was but one smooth covering of skin.

  “Much better,” Janus said. “I have things to say, and you have things to hear, so let’s prevent you from doing something you will regret.”

  Adria nodded, for what else might she do? Janus resumed his pacing. His jade eyes watched her carefully, analyzing the slightest twitch or emotion she revealed.

  “Your precious holy texts are correct when they say the Sisters arrived upon a barren plane of rock and decided to create life upon it. What they neglect to me
ntion is the first world they built. From the beginning, they created with a flawed mentality: Their creations were either perfect or imperfect, and they could not stand the latter. They created a painted world, beautiful but pointless. Its inhabitants were no more alive and wondrous than an elaborately carved rock.”

  Janus paced before her, the speed of his steps steadily increasing along with his story.

  “The Sisters deliberated upon their failures, singling out various aspects of existence they simply did not understand. They flooded these aspects with a piece of their own essence to give them form, substance, and power. Their lone act of brilliance, the creation of the dragons. Chyron, master of time both beginning and ending. Gloam, king of thought and reason. Viciss, lord of cyclical change. Aethos, the purest of them all, the embodiment of energy in all its forms. And last, Nihil, seed of all discord and conflict.

  “The dragons set about correcting the mistakes of the Sisters. Chyron declared that all beings have their end, whether it be days or centuries, to lend urgency to their lives. Nihil’s gift swept through the land, and no longer would beings thrive solely through symbiotic exchange, but through conflict. Let animal and plant devour one another, destroying the weak and elevating the strong. Gloam looked upon the Sisters’ sentient creations and gifted them with doubt, fear, and uncertainty. They would not walk certain of the Sisters’ presence, their minds locked in rigid, preapproved patterns, but instead would question everything so that invention and creativity could flourish. Viciss shaped the seasons and the tides so that there was always a sensation of change and renewal. Aethos lent his aid to the others, shaping the world with eruptions of lava, shifts in tectonics, and great downpours of rain so that the land could support a great variety of life instead of coddling a few, singular creations.

  “The greatest of these new beings shared in the dragons’ gifts and contained the same innate mastery over elements, time, and thought. They were homages to the creator, sharers of the responsibility to breed a world full of life and awe. These were the dragon-sired, most beloved of all, and for thousands of years we walked the Cradle in a true paradise.”