With narrowed eyes, I watch the creak in the door. My ears try to pick up a sound, any sound, that could give me an indication of what to expect. When they finally do, just as my hand moves to the doorknob, I freeze.
Custos lets out a disrupted croak as the pained whimper drifts toward us.
“That sounded human, right?” I ask him quietly.
He nods, and I wrap my fingers around the doorknob. “Good. That rules out the worst.”
Before I get the chance to pull the door open, the leader of my protective kettle pulls my hair.
“Ouch,” I whisper. “What was that for?”
The hawk swoops down to the ground and pulls at my pant leg.
A smile creeps upon my face. “Oh yes, good thinking, Custos.”
I pull out the short blade hidden in my boot and wait for Custos to settle back on my shoulder.
“Ready?” I ask, and his talons dig into my shirt.
With one fast movement, I pull the door open. It takes me a millisecond to realize I won’t need my weapon. No one is jumping out at me. The whimpering has stopped, but there’s no doubt where it came from. Several of the traps that line the walls have been set off. Whomever broke into my barn managed to avoid the first trap, judging by the three arrows lodged into the wall on my right. Dodging them slowed him down enough to get doused with flammable liquid and set on fire.
I scan the floorboard in front of me. Yep, burn marks. The trail of black spots leaves no room for doubt about the intruder’s next move. He dove for the bucket of water on my left, that has tipped over and is still dripping.
“And there it is,” I say manner-of-factly.
Three small steps take me to the edge of what is normally a pretty solid wooden floor with no more than slits showing the dark void below. Now, the boards have moved aside and down, creating a large hole with a view of the endless blackness. Inches from the tips of my shoes, bloodied fingers are straining to hang onto what remains of the floor.
I lean forward so I can see my unwanted guest. “Hello there. How can I help you today?”
The man attached to the fingers is about nineteen years old. He has black hair covered in grease and green eyes that look up at me with a mixture of relief and despair. Scorch marks decorate his arms and face, and there are burn holes all over his shirt.
I study him shamelessly while he searches for an answer.
Custos scurries over and softly pecks at one of the fingers.
With a squeal, the man pulls back his hand, swinging dangerously by the other before wrapping it back around the floorboard five inches further to the right.
“Help me, please,” he finally manages.
“Sure!” The fake smile on my lips almost hurts.
I squat down in front of him. “But first, I’d like to know what you’re doing here.”
One finger slips, and he groans. “I’ll tell you everything. Please help me up.”
“I will,” I answer, examining my fingernails, “after you tell me.”
“Fine.” His voice goes up a couple of octaves. “I was hiking in the forest when a bear attacked me.” My gaze drops down to his green shirt, which is streaked with red between the holes. There’s a gash in the side that could’ve been made by a bear’s claw, but it could also be the result of climbing the fence around my premises.
I frown. “Where’s your backpack then? Did you drop it?”
“I did.” He nods. His dark eyebrows are pulled together when he sends me a pleading look. “It fell into the pit. Please don’t let me fall too. Please.”
He sounds convincing, yet something about his story is off.
“Tell me exactly what happened with the bear.”
He groans. “Please pull me up first. I can’t hold on for much longer.”
I stand up and take a step back. “I’m sorry, but I don’t trust you. Your story doesn’t make sense.”
“Why not?” he exclaims. “I encountered a bear; I swear! I’ve never seen one so big in my life.”
“What kind of bear?”
“A black bear, of course; it’s the only one that lives here.”
“Hmm.” Anyone could know that.
And then it hits me. The thing that doesn’t add up in his story.
“Bears never come close to my home. They sense the monsters that visit frequently.”
The muscles in his arms are starting to shake from the effort of holding on. “Please… I don’t know what it was doing here. I’m telling you, it attacked me, and I figured climbing over your fence was my best shot.”
I tap my lips with my finger. He is so full of bull that it’s almost funny. Even if a bear would come close, climbing over the fence would trigger my alarm. What are the odds of a bear approaching and my alarm failing on the same day? And I’m not even counting the tripwires set up everywhere.
I cock my head. “You don’t seem surprised to hear that monsters visit me on a regular basis.”
He focuses on his fingers, trying to get a better grip. His breathing is fast, and sweat trickles down his temples and over the stubble on his cheeks. “Monsters are everywhere, why would that be a surprise?”
“No…” Slowly I shake my head. “You know who I am, what I am. You know what I do.”
He clenches his teeth. “I swear-”
He yells in panic as his other hand slips from the edge. I drop back down quickly and grab it.
“Didn’t your mother teach you not to swear?” I say. My voice is low with repressed anger. My patience has vanished. “Now, tell me the truth, or I’m throwing you in.”
“All right, all right!” He swallows and licks his lips. His weight pulls at my arm, and I grunt.
“You better hurry.”
“I know who you are. You’re Vex Connor, a Soul Jumper, the Soul Jumper.” He gives me a sheepish grin. “Everyone admires you. I just wanted to see how you did it all, you know. What kind of tools you use, how you live…” His voice trails off, and he breaks eye contact.
After a short silence, I shrug. “Well, that still sounds crazy but much more plausible than your other story.” I grab his arm with both hands and haul him up.
He collapses on what remains of the floor and clutches his hands to his chest.
Custos shrieks, and I nod at him. “Yes, turn off the traps for a minute, please.”
The hawk flies to the other end of the barn, close to the ceiling to avoid the booby traps that are higher up on the walls. I block the intruder’s view as Custos picks up a rope, drops the loop at the end around the handle of the device I built and pulls.
With a sound like a collapsing bookcase, the floor boards pop back up until the black void below can only be seen through the cracks.
I stick out my hand. “Let’s go. I’ll give you a cup of coffee before you leave. You can wash up while the water boils.”
* * *
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IMPORTANT NOTICE
All Soul Jumper stories can be read in random order. You can start with the story that appeals to you most. It is, however, recommended to start with Force of the Kraken.
I hope you enjoy them!
BOOKS BY
TAMARA GERAEDS
The Cards of Death series
The First Demon
The Second Premonition
The Third Sin
The Fourth Soul
The Fifth Portal
The Sixth Ghost
The Seventh Crow
The Soul Jumper series
Dream of Death
Force of the Kraken
House of Decay
Flames of Fury
Fog of Deception
Demon of the Shadow
Rage of the Siren
Curse of the Coven
Wrath of the Gargoyle
Tree of Terror
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tamara Geraeds wa
s born in 1981. When she was 6 years old, she wrote her first poem, which basically translates as:
A hug for you and a hug for me
and that’s how life should be
She started writing books at the age of 15 and her first book was published in 2012. After 6 books in Dutch she decided to write a young adult fantasy series in English: Cards of Death.
Tamara’s bibliography consists of books for children, young adults and adults, and can be placed under fantasy and thrillers.
Besides writing she runs her own business, in which she teaches English, Dutch and writing, (re)writes texts and edits books.
She’s been playing badminton for over 20 years and met the love of her life Frans on the court. She loves going out for dinner, watching movies, and of course reading, writing and hugging her husband. She’s crazy about sushi and Indian curries, and her favorite color is pink.
The Seventh Crow Page 23
