Dragon Soul (Daughter of Shadow Book 1)

by LJ Swallow

  "I doubt she will unless threatened physically like last night."

  Last night. Again, I was torn between helping Calla and destroying her. I've been taught for years how unnatural dark magic users are. How their souls are corrupted. But how can she be? Look at her.

  The sun shines from her pale hair with the strange streak almost glowing beneath the rays. Galen doesn't know what this signifies either, but I'm sure there's information in the history books. A scholar at the stronghold will know.

  My stomach growls as the aroma of roast boar drifts from a nearby stall. "I need something to eat. All I have in this pack is bread and cheese." I point at my bag over my shoulder and Galen sighs at me. We're prepared to leave quickly if needed, horses tethered close by. This situation is unpredictable and my discomfort grows when I look at Calla again.

  "Don't you want to watch the test?" he asks.

  "Not really. Foregone conclusion that she'll fuck up. If we need to take her and leave, I need to eat first.”

  My belly leads me to a rough wooden table where a woman has lain plates piled with charred meats, other with juices running from them. The middle-aged woman's size suggests she enjoys her wares too. She wipes a hand across her face, and streaks it black from the coals she cooked over.

  "A fine feast for a fine man!" She throws her arms up in excitement glancing around. Her loud voice attracts the attention she wants: a lightbringer chose to eat at her stall. In order to avoid conversation, I lay down two gold coins and shove meat from the plate into my mouth.

  She watches, wide eyed with great expectation as I chew, and I become aware of a whispering circle around me. My attentive crowd vary between excited boys holding wooden swords and shields with a crudely drawn Lux symbol, and older girls on the cusp of womanhood staring dewy-eyed, their heads no doubt filled with stories about brave strong warriors. Holding dreams of marrying one from the Order of Lux with our legendary prowess, but these girls are too young to experience my other prowess. I laugh to myself at my inflated ego.

  One brazen girl stands forward and straightens her shoulders. She sucks on her bottom lip, gazing from beneath her lashes.; this girl represents 'raven-haired beauty'. Her face is paler than others around; those people browned from labouring in the sun. The embroidery around a rich purple gown indicates she's from one of the wealthy town families.

  I prepare to give a small bow and back away, but I need to be careful. I may be a member of the Order, but the gentry are several steps above me. They could make choices for me that I don't want, and the girl before me knows this.

  "My father would like to meet you after the fair, lightbringer." Her voice is sultry and her expensive scents overpower the stench from the great unwashed around us.

  Oh crap, I don't want marrying yet.

  "At your service," I say, as expected of my status, then add, "As soon as I've finished my business here."

  An explosive sound cracks through the air and bounces off the trees at the edge of the clearing the fair is set in. The noise is joined by screams and shouts and I'm immediately on guard, hand moving to my sword hilt.

  A tiny trail of smoke moves upwards from the testing area, and I close my eyes in despair. Persuading Calla to leave would've been easier if she hadn't drawn attention to herself. How could Galen expect this to end well? I shove my way through the people who crowded the stalls but who now join those watching the new spectacle in the judging area.

  "Hey!" A man protests as I bump into him, aggression in his face as he looks up at me. I look down my nose and he backs off as soon as he sees the Lux symbol. By the time I reach the front of the crowd, the staging area is empty save for wooden benches and tables and a stench of rotten eggs.

  I crane my head to look for Galen and hope Calla is with him, but commotion fills the every inch of the place as some turn and run, whereas others surge forward shouting obscenities.

  I spot his gleaming silver hair, the elf a head above most in the crowd, and push my way towards him. "She wouldn't use shadow magic unless threatened, huh?"

  Galen's impassive expression doesn't change as he watches the activity around.

  "I hope they arrested her," murmurs a woman in front of us and pulls a shawl tighter around her shoulders. "We all saw what she did."

  I touch the woman's shoulder and she looks around in surprise. "I missed the action. What happened?" I ask.

  "The dragon girl. She’s a shadowmancer."

  "You call her the dragon girl?" Galen tips his head. "Why?"

  "The weird girl has a dragonkin pet she sneaks around with. She works in the apothecary, no doubt perfecting her dark arts. I bet the dragon helps." The woman beside her nods in agreement. "Stupid of her to show the magic now. In public."

  "Excuse me." Galen melds into the crowds as he moves away.

  Shit. What did Calla do? I thought she'd accidentally exploded something—or someone. But did she show her dark side? If this magic is uncontrollable, there's no way we should take her to the stronghold.

  "Was anybody hurt?" I ask.

  "I don't know. She created a smoke screen." The middle-aged woman nudges a stocky man beside her. "Didn't she?"

  "Yeah," he half-grunts. "You should get in there and sort this out, lightbringer."

  I nod. "I'm planning to. Did you see what happened next?"

  "The town guards took her."

  I straighten. How bloody complicated does this need to be? I should never have listened to Galen. "Back to town?"

  "Maybe. Esme, can we leave now? Nothing more is happening."

  With a small bow, I push my way to the edge again. Galen's tall figure stands nearby, arms moving as he talks to someone. I approach.

  "Where is she?" I hiss.

  The two men talking to him stare back. They're dressed in crude armour and self-importance. One straightens his metal helm and the other scowls at me. "Oh, look at this. A lightbringer came to interfere in our business."

  "Galen?" I ask and ignore the guard.

  "It would seem that the young lady who made a mistake with her magic has been arrested. She's in the town gaol." Galen's eyes remain on the two men. "I'm explaining that we must take her."

  "Take her where?" the guard asks sharply.

  Galen's elven features sharpen further as he smiles. "This daughter of shadow needs to be dealt with permanently, rather than taking up space in your cells. Correct, Rohan?"

  The older, grumpier guy with no helm scratches his head. "Permanent, you say?"

  "The lightbringer came today to detect any rogue magic. It seems a threat to the town has been hidden for a number of years. This was very careless of you not to notice." He gestures at me. "Or perhaps there is sedition operating in this town, Rohan. What do you think? After all, this place is located close to the Ebon territory."

  I catch up with Galen's meaning. "I agree. Now we have located this source of shadow magic, I believe we need to remove the perpetrator and ensure she's killed. A public hanging won't work. We all know those who practice shadow will rise again."

  Helmeted guy breaks his staring. "He's right, Vic. We don't want her sort tainting the town's reputation."

  Galen pulls himself straight. "I also think Lord Ashville will be disturbed to hear the local enforcers have harboured such a person in his town."

  "We haven't harboured her!" he protests. "We knew nothing. These aberrations are hard to spot."

  "Galen." I place a hand on his arm. "Time is of the essence."

  "Come. Take us to her, good gentlemen." I bite back a smile at Galen's false politeness as he takes one man's chainmail covered elbow and guides him away from the quiet corner. The other guard hesitates, eyes on a local stall. Is he sizing up the mugs of ale or the serving girl with huge breasts straining against her white smock?

  "Come on," I say and stand to block his view. "You can indulge your vices later."

  The look he gives me with a wink answers my question: both.

  6

  CALLA


  The small cell they throw me in stinks of urine, and I frighten a rat the moment I land on my backside inside. Now, I'm sitting on empty grain sacks on the floor attempting to hear nearby conversations. One guard spends a lot of time marching past my cell in a self-important manner, keys jangling against his armoured legs. Occasionally he shouts questions.

  I don't answer. I'm still stunned by events at the trial. I swear I had the correct ingredients, and had thanked the stars that the test was something I was confident I could do. So what in the king's name happened? Whatever concoction I produced exploded, and when it touched my skin, the energy from last night flooded through. Magic exploded above my head in a cloud of shadow-containing green sparks, and I knew my life was over.

  I was dragged away, followed by shouting from the crowds about my evil. I fought tears: I've never done wrong in my life—not deliberately. Never stole, never injured anybody—badly anyway. But last night, with Thomas, when the magic spewed from my body... Has that event triggered something evil inside I never knew about? The shock from my arrest has been replaced with shaking fear. They walked me past the gallows in the town, with whispers that's where I'll end up.

  Tried for a public display of shadow magic, and I've no defence.

  Fear rises again and I retch, but my stomach is empty.

  "Shadow bitch." I jump as the metal door rattles, the man with the keys shaking it. "Get up. Time to go."

  I stagger to my feet, a vain relief heating my soul. "I told you this was all a mistake."

  The man beckons with one finger and says something in a quiet voice. Unable to hear, I move towards him, and the moment I'm close enough, he seizes my dress collar and drags me towards him. "You're the mistake."

  His breath is rank, teeth rotten, and my cheek squashes against the cold bars. He moistens his lips as he glances down at where my cleavage squashes against the bars too.

  "Someone's here to take you." His spittle hits my face, and I close my eyes.

  I grit my teeth but don't reply. My insides knot again. Are they killing me tonight? No trial?

  "Is this her?" asks a male voice with a soft accent but harsh tone.

  The guard steps to one side revealing a man dressed in fine clothes, taller and more muscular than the guards. His long-sleeve black tunic is cinched at the waist by a large belt and his leather trousers cut to fit rather than the roughly cut most in the town wear. His face is lit by the lantern on the wall behind, the light highlighting strong features and carved jaw. His bright eyes pierce my mind, and I stare back hoping he can read the good in me. He folds his hands behind his back and looks at the guard to his left.

  "I'd like to take her immediately."

  His soft voice cajoles, that of someone who can persuade others to do what he wants. Or he's a man who is used to people granting his wishes without question. The expensive clothes suggest he's a nobleman, but not one I recognise. A visitor to the fair?

  Metal jangles, then slides together as the guard unlocks the cell door. He curls a hand around my upper arm, and his fingers bite into me as he drags me out. I trip and land on my knees at the nobleman's feet. Cheeks heating, I blow hair from my face and stand.

  "That was once a beautiful dress." The man chuckles, and I self-consciously brush at the dirt from the cell now covering the bottom half. Pointless, because the rest of the dress is filthy.

  I meet his dark brown eyes, refusing to let him humiliate me further. "Thank you. My aunt made it for me."

  His mouth tips up at one corner. "What a shame you've ruined everything today."

  I shiver at his undertone. "Where are you taking me?"

  "Away." He turns his head and clicks his fingers. Another awkward looking guard close by hands him a long cloak, which he wraps around himself. The man strides away, and the two guards exchange confused glances.

  I sigh. "I think he wants you to follow too. With me."

  Scowling at my impertinence, the guard shoves me in the back towards the hewn-stone stairs. The underground cells are lit by candles casting enough light to see where we walk across the rough stone, but not enough to shine on the surroundings and reveal the faces of others in their cells. Some shout obscenities at me as we pass. Outside, dusk shrouds the town, surprising me how long I've been down there. I was taken to the cells mid-afternoon, and now the half-moon peeks from behind gathering clouds.

  The nobleman's figure is silhouetted in the door, his back to us as he pulls on gloves. The same shiver passes through. He doesn't carry a visible weapon, but a weapon isn't the only way he could hurt me.

  A guard stands either side of me, both holding my arm. Overkill for a girl who's half their size, and a useless opponent. Unless I summon the magic that keeps escaping from me, but I have no idea how.

  Silently, the nobleman beckons. The guards glance at each other, and I'm beginning to wonder if they share a brain and can’t remember whose turn it is to use it. I suppress a laugh, but not well enough, as I'm rewarded with a slap across the back of the head and shoved forward.

  The cobbled streets are half-empty; laughter and music carry through the still night air. Most are still attending the fair and will continue their celebrations into the night. The evening holds the same warmth as yesterday night, reminding me of the events that triggered this situation.

  A teenage boy stands nearby holding a horse by the reins. The horse’s size and sleekness eclipse the horses the town gentry ride. Compared to this, theirs look like ponies. He's standing obediently with his head bowed—saddled and ready to leave.

  The guards follow the nobleman towards the horse, and he turns back to us. "Thank you. I will take her now."

  I’m confused over what is happening here. Why aren’t I still in a cell waiting for a trial? My question is answered when the man drops a small leather pouch into one of the guard's hands. The unmistakable jingle of coins.

  He's buying me?

  "Can you manage her?" asks one guard in a doubtful voice. "You know she used Ebon magic, don't you?"

  "I'm not afraid of magic." The nobleman takes a leisurely look at me from head to toe. "Or her."

  "Don't you have a carriage?" I ask him. "You seem wealthy."

  He snorts and indicates the horse. “No. We ride.” Powerful hands take my waist, and he effortlessly lifts me upwards onto the saddle. Joining me, the man sits behind and pulls me against his body, one arm around my waist and the other taking up the reins.

  Without another word, he instructs the horse to lead us slowly through the town. The council’s house and gaol are at the edge, and we're soon away from the crooked buildings and head out towards the woods.

  We reach the main road from our town towards the next shire, and as the horse canters, I grip the saddle, panicking for many reasons. One that I might fall, but the man’s hold on me is tight. He holds me closer to his chest, and I catch his rich woody scent. I work with many oils and spices, but I can’t identify these.

  I’m unable to move my arms beneath his strong grip, and I’m surrounded by the heat from his body. I'm scared of him, but his manner is distant but not dangerous. His grip could be harsher, treatment stronger, but his taciturn nature means all my questions remain answered. I don't know how far, where, or who I'm riding with. Even my attempt to complement his beautiful horse is met with silence. I've ridden before, many times, but never on as powerful and handsome a beast as this one.

  As we move onwards, we cross to the Old Road. Our town is one of several belonging to one noble family. I've seen them many times—the father and sons were at the fair, picking their choice of maids and mistresses. The shire is bordered by forests between this and the next, leading into Ebon territory. In the opposite direction, other shires lie between here and Northpass, the kingdom’s main city. The ones I'd hoped to travel through free from the life and drudgery mapped out for me, through passing a test.

  Instead this. But what is this?

  My head lolls as the stress turns to exhaustion, and I sink forward against t
he man's arms. He swears, and I jerk myself upright again with a muttered apology.

  "No, we should stop. We have a long journey ahead, and we're almost at the first point."

  I'm too tired to ask any more questions.

  7

  CALLA

  The moon is at its pinnacle as I watch it bob in the sky above, dipping in and out of the clouds. Tree branches thicken overhead and the horse's canter slows to a slow trot, dust kicking up around us. I pull myself forward and look around.

  "Where are we going?"

  Silence.

  "Will you talk to me? You're an incredibly rude man," I snap. "You abduct me from a gaol cell without explaining why and then drag me away on your horse."

  I can't turn to face him from my position, but would love to look him in the eyes to show him my scorn and pretence I'm not scared.

  Warm breath mingles in my hair as he laughs. "Abduct you from gaol? How would one do that? It's called freeing you."

  "Who are you?"

  When he doesn't reply, I shove at him and attempt to swing my legs over to climb from the slow-moving horse.

  "Settle down," he says.

  "Don't talk to me like I'm your horse." My escape attempt has left me half-hanging from the horse, and with a twist of my body, I sink from the flanks and into the dust with an oomph.

  He pulls the horse to a halt and laughs at me. "Where will you go, Calla? Into the forests between shires? I'm sure you know that more than wolves prowl those grounds."

  I wrap my arms around myself. No fool would run into the forests bordering the Ebon realm, or face what lives hidden in the dark. Folktales tell of monstrous wolf-bear hybrids living in the depths. Ones left behind when our king's men drove back the Ebon from this land and slaughtered their numbers. The Ebon's battle pets bred, free from their masters and free to grow in savagery.

  Thieves and murderers are left at the edges of these woods as punishment. Now this man has brought me here.

  "Is that what you're doing?" I ask in a hoarse voice. "Sending me to my death?"