Twin Soul Series Omnibus 2: Books 6-10

by McCaffrey-Winner

Nestor shrugged. “I never have trouble separating them.”

  Krea found herself beaming at him, even as she experienced a moment of surprise when she realized that Wymarc also approved.

  But he killed you! Krea thought.

  And now he’s sworn his life to me, Wymarc replied smugly. And he’s a prince. With a little guidance and a little help, he could become something, you know.

  The thought warmed Krea’s heart and she smiled at the prince. Nestor smiled back for a moment before flushing and hastily bending back to his reading.

  He was blushing! Wymarc giggled.

  Krea couldn’t believe the wyvern and shook their head vehemently. Nestor glanced up at that with a worried look, then back to his reading when he felt her — their — gaze on him.

  “You should go to the Hall of the Gods and see which one favors you,” Reedis said to Angus, oblivious to the by-play between Nestor and Krea Wymarc.

  Ford glanced around the library and started wandering away.

  “Where are you going?” Annabelle asked sharply.

  “I was wondering if there might be books on different types of wyvern and sea serpents,” Ford replied absently.

  “Yes, there is!” Hana said, jumping up from her chair and leading him toward the section where she and Krea Wymarc had seen the book that Terric had pointed out to them. She frowned as she searched for the book and then brightened when she found it and passed it to him.

  “Thank you,” Ford said, gesturing for her to precede him to the table, even as he opened the book and began scanning the pages.

  “Maybe there are others there,” Reedis said, retracing Ford’s steps.

  “We’re going to need to take a break soon,” Nestor said. “My eyes are watering from all this smoke.”

  “I can help with that, maybe,” Hana said. The others looked at her and she smiled, shyly. She waved a hand toward the double doors and a gust of wind opened them, pushing them gently all the way back against the outside wall. And then a swirling gust of wind picked up from the back of the room and gently wafted the worst of the dust and smoke up the far corridor and curled it around and out into the hallway.

  “We’ll take it from there, dear,” Hissia’s voice came from outside the library.

  “Of course!” Hanor, her partner, agreed affably.

  “Thank you!” Hana called to them, smiling at their kindness. She caught Angus’ look and whispered, “The gods of air.” When his eyes widened, she added, “They kindly gave me the power of air when I lost my Meiko.” Her voice caught on the kitsune’s name.

  Angus gave her a worried, sympathetic look. “We’ll get her back, I’m certain.”

  A moment later the winds dropped and the door closed.

  #

  “You’ve wasted a day and we’ve learned nothing!” Ophidian growled as they all collected for dinner in the dining hall that evening.

  “On the contrary,” Wymarc said, “we’ve learned quite a lot.”

  “Two days,” Arolan said grimly. “We’ve only got two more days to stop Pallas.”

  “We know that Pallas is the only ice serpent there is,” Reedis said slowly, wiping his eyes to remove sleep from them — he’d been found asleep over his book only ten minutes before.

  “We know that fire is its nemesis,” Angus said.

  “We know that of the hundred damaged books, only two mentioned twin souls,” Hana murmured, glancing toward Krea Wymarc.

  “And we guess that Lyric’s magic destroyed at least a dozen books,” Krea said.

  “And we know that twin souls are created in many different ways,” Reedis said.

  “Including eating,” Angus muttered, still in shock at the discovery.

  “Yes,” Wymarc said with Krea’s voice. “Among some of the twin-souls, man flesh is considered a delicacy.”

  “Among some gods, too,” Ophidian added, happily observing Angus twitch in response.

  “Father!” Wymarc said with a half-groan. “Please stop tormenting the lad.”

  “We have no idea how to find the creature,” Nestor said with a frown.

  “And no plan of what to do when we do,” Hana added with a sigh.

  “We should bring the hatpin,” Reedis said brightly. The others all looked at him. He threw up his hands. “What?”

  “I think it goes without saying,” Ford said lightly to his friend. He glanced to Ophidian. “This child of yours is fire-born?”

  “Perhaps not,” Arolan said. “Pallas was known more for snow and ice than fire or steam.”

  “The tear fell in icy waters,” Wymarc said. “Where a tear falls influences the twin soul that it becomes.”

  “So if piercing a heart with a dragon-fire hatpin works with you,” Angus began — and stopped, giving Wymarc a horrified, repentant look.

  “My dear,” Wymarc said with a sniff and a toss of Krea’s long white tresses, “if you’re going to keep apologizing every time for binding us to life, we’re not going to get anywhere.”

  “What else could work?” Annabelle asked, breaking the awkward silence. She held up a hand, flicking up her index finger. “Food. Water, earth, blood.”

  “Blood usually works well,” Ophidian said, with a sly glance toward Angus.

  “Lightning,” Angus said suddenly.

  “Lightning?” Ophidian said with a snort. “I’ve never heard —”

  “But is it possible, great god?” Angus asked quickly. “I just wanted to list all the possibilities.”

  “A sleeping draught,” Annabelle suggested. Ophidian glared at her. “It worked once.”

  “Once,” Ophidian agreed.

  “I think we’ve learned all we can about how to bind the serpent,” Richard said. “I think we should concentrate first on how to find it.”

  “Pallas will still be mostly torpid,” Arolan said, glancing toward Ophidian for confirmation. “It won’t have gotten far.”

  “How far, sea god?” Annabelle asked.

  “No more than two or three thousand miles,” Arolan said. “Maybe less.”

  “It would try for the sea,” Ford said.

  “Or some body of water,” Arolan agreed.

  “We need a map!” Reedis declared.

  “Eat first,” Sybil said. “You’ll need your strength.”

  “And then your rest,” Avice said in agreement. “You can start again in the morning.” She glanced toward Angus. “Except for you,” she said. “When you’re done, you must make your choice.”

  “Choice?” Richard asked.

  “He needs to go before the gods,” Hana said in a small voice.

  “And you all need to find rooms,” Avice said. She glanced toward Hana and Krea Wymarc. “You two have yours already but the others…”

  “Rooms, goddess?” Nestor asked respectfully.

  “Unless you want to sleep in the halls,” Avice said.

  “We find rooms in the house,” Krea told him.

  “The infirmary is for the sick,” Avice agreed. “And you’re all better now, so you need to move out.” Under her breath, she muttered, “I’ve got to clean them and get them ready for the next lot.”

  “Are you expecting them soon?” Annabelle asked.

  “Ten, maybe twenty years from now,” Avice said with a shrug. “Although sometimes someone will appear uninvited.”

  “Do you need help cleaning?” Ford asked.

  “Not from you, my dear,” Avice told him.

  “Us?” Krea asked, gesturing to Hana.

  “You’ve already done the dishes,” Avice told her with a kindly shake of her head.

  “I’d be happy to help,” Annabelle said.

  “And I,” Reedis added.

  “I will do whatever I can, goddess,” Nestor said.

  Avice snorted and said in a low voice,
“No doubt you will.” She nodded to Reedis and Annabelle. “You two can help. Once you’ve all found rooms.” She made a dismissive gesture.

  The humans took the hint. Nestor bowed deeply to each of the gods in turn and the rest followed suit.

  #

  “You’ll know your room when you find it,” Krea Wymarc assured Nestor after the prince had tried the tenth door without luck.

  “They all seemed locked against me,” Nestor said miserably. “There can’t be that many more people here — we would have seen them, right?”

  Krea shrugged. “I don’t know if the rooms work that way.”

  “Well, maybe I’ll be sleeping in the dining hall,” Nestor muttered. “Or the library.” He brightened and motioned to Krea who followed him in surprise as he made his way back to the library. Her eyebrows rose as he tried the door to the library. The doors opened easily but Nestor closed them again, crestfallen. “Just the library,” he told her glumly. “Although if I find the right room, maybe I can borrow a book or two.”

  “You like reading, don’t you?” Krea asked.

  He smiled at her. “When I’m reading, I’m not a prince, nor a disappointment to my father. I’m just a person in a different place or learning something I never thought to know.”

  “I like that,” Krea said, placing a hand on his. “It sounds comforting.”

  “It is,” Nestor agreed, covering her hand with his. “It’s like spending time with friends.” He frowned. “I don’t have many friends.” Shyly, he glanced up at her. “Would you be my friend?”

  “Of course!” Krea said, squeezing the hand she’d covered with her own. Nestor squeezed his hand over hers, lightly, and then let go, turning around. “I didn’t see a door there before!”

  There was a regular door just opposite the library’s double doors.

  “It wasn’t there before,” Krea said. “I think the house makes them.” She pulled on his hand. “Go on! Try it!” She told him. “Maybe this is your room!”

  The door opened at Nestor’s touch and he peered inside. He turned back to Krea and called excitedly, “Come, have a look!”

  He led her into a well-appointed study. There was a large desk, a plush, comfortable chair, a crackling fire with two chairs arranged on either side, and bookshelves all around. A hallway led to another room and bathroom.

  “Look!” Nestor said as he returned to the large study desk. There were several book spread on it. Nestor sat down and picked up the first book. The light on the desk brightened, illuminating the words evenly. “It’s another book on twin souls.”

  “Is it?” Krea asked, taking the one chair by the fire that let her observe him.

  “It is,” Nestor said. He started reading steadily, out loud to Krea. She smiled at him and closed her eyes to better hear his words.

  Some time later, she found herself being gently shaken. “Krea?” Nestor said. “Wymarc?”

  Krea opened her eyes blearily and found Nestor crouched worriedly beside her.

  “What is it?” she asked. “Oh, did I fall asleep?” she said, flustered. “I didn’t mean to! You were reading and —”

  “I think you need some rest,” Nestor said. He stood and lowered a hand toward her. “May I escort you back to your room?”

  Krea took his hand and nodded thankfully.

  Chapter Six

  The next morning, Ophidian met them all at breakfast, along with Arolan.

  “We’ve only two days left,” Ophidian said.

  “I think we’re going to have to split up,” Nestor said. “We don’t know where the serpent went, except that it probably went to some water —”

  “If it got to water, we’d know,” Arolan said. The others gave him dubious looks, so he continued grimly, “Because the world would be frozen.”

  “We need maps,” Reedis said, repeating his demand from the night before.

  “I have them,” Nestor said, yawning mightily. He held up a rolled parchment triumphantly.

  “Didn’t you sleep?” Krea asked in alarm.

  Nestor shook his head. “I couldn’t,” he confessed. “I needed to know.”

  “Very good, my prince,” Ford said, moving to sit beside him and gesturing for the map. “And what did you learn?” he asked, moving plates to make room for the map and spreading it in front of them.

  Nestor pointed to a spot on the map. “This is the House of Life and Death,” he said. He moved his hand to the far end of the map. “And there is the ocean,” he said. He moved a hand further up, back toward Issia. “There are streams here,” he said. He pointed to another place. “And here.” Then he frowned. “But beyond that, I see no water.”

  “So we’ve only got to search three places,” Ford said. He looked over at Arolan. “Can you take us there?”

  “Yes,” Arolan said. “But all those are vast expanses, it would take time to search all the lengths of the rivers — even more to search all the sea.”

  “I think, my lord, I can help,” Nestor said. He pointed to the maps. “Wouldn’t the wyvern try to make the quickest approach?” He glanced to Ford. “Can’t we draw straight lines to the nearest parts of the rivers and the ocean?”

  Ford frowned for a moment then nodded emphatically. “Indeed!”

  “And we could split up from there to cover a greater area,” Krea Wymarc said.

  “But only you and Hana can fly,” Angus protested. “And if you found the serpent, what then?”

  “I could carry someone,” Krea Wymarc said, glancing toward Nestor.

  “I don’t know if I could,” Hana said shyly to Angus. “But I could try.”

  “That leaves the three of us on foot,” Ford said to Reedis and Annabelle.

  “Actually,” Reedis spoke up, “if there is any chance of making things here, I believe I might be able to create some lifting balloons.”

  “Could you?” Ford said in surprise. Then his expression changed. “That would get us in the sky but how would we move?”

  “Or get down again?” Annabelle added.

  “I can help on the moving,” Arolan said. He grinned as he added, “You might recall I provided your airship with a little push a while back.”

  Ford smiled at the memory of the frozen sea god blowing the royal airship Spite onward to the bitter north.

  “I think I can arrange a spell that will let us ascend and descend on command,” Reedis said. He nodded to Annabelle. “I could teach you as well, if you wish.”

  “I’d be delighted!”

  “Good,” Reedis said with a sigh, “because I’m pretty sure that five balloons will take a lot of effort!”

  “Five?” Annabelle asked in surprise, gesturing to herself, the mage, and the captain.

  “Because I believe that the prince and the apprentice might also benefit,” Reedis said. “If only to give their hosts a rest from their weight.”

  “Very well,” Ford said. “So now we have to learn how to build these balloons of yours.”

  “Yes,” Reedis agreed with a laugh. “I know nothing of the sewing or assembling of the balloons themselves!”

  #

  Reedis claimed Angus and Annabelle for his spellwork, leaving Nestor, Ford, Hana, and Krea Wymarc to do the sewing.

  Unsurprisingly, the prince knew nothing of the art.

  “Good!” Ford exclaimed, clapping him on the shoulder, “Now’s the time to learn!”

  Ford, to Wymarc’s surprise, was quite adept with the needle. He smiled at her expression as he explained, “I grew up on ships. I learned to mend torn sails and make my own clothes.”

  “My mother taught me,” Hana said with a sad look. “She made me make father’s burial gown.”

  Avice appeared in the room, waving to a corner. “There’s ten bolts of fabric. Let me know if you need more.”

  “Thank you,” Wyma
rc said, dropping into a deep curtsy and motioning for the others to imitate her.

  Avice sniffed and left the room.

  “Usually she uses the door,” Ford said in a small voice as he looked at the place where she so suddenly wasn’t.

  “No, dear,” Wymarc corrected him, “usually she doesn’t.”

  Ford quirked an eyebrow at her. “She was just being nice, earlier. She told me, once, that her sudden appearances had caused her dear husband some unexpected increases in his workload so she’d stopped in respect of him.” Krea Wymarc smiled. “She must be feeling comfortable with your constitution or she wouldn’t indulge herself now.”

  “How big are the balloons to be?” Hana asked, moving toward the nearest bolt of fabric. It was nearly twice as tall as she was, and topped Ford’s head by a good few inches.

  “They need to be man-sized,” Ford said. He moved past her and hefted the roll, carrying it to one of the nearby tables. He closed his eyes for a moment, recalling Reedis’ balloons. “And then we’ll have to rig a rope netting around the balloon to which we attach ourselves.”

  “Oh,” Krea said, “that sounds difficult.”

  “Didn’t Annabelle wear one of these when Ophidian found her?” Wymarc asked, glancing to Ford. Ford quirked his eyebrows in thought but before he could answer, the door burst open and Annabelle rushed in, a large bunch of fabric bunched in her arms.

  “I thought you could use this,” she said, placing the bundle on an empty table. “It’s the balloon I used.”

  Ford rushed forward, spreading it out and eyeing it critically. He turned to the witch. “Did Reedis examine this?”

  Annabelle nodded and sighed. “He did,” she said. “He said that the fabric is too worn to use again.” She eyed the bolts of cloth lining the far corner and went to the table where Ford had placed a roll, fingering the fabric critically. “This is a much better weave, it will be best to work with it.”

  “So we’ve got five balloons to make,” Ford said to the others.

  “Three will do in a pinch,” Wymarc said. Ford raised an eyebrow to the albino woman who maintained the wyvern’s soul. Wymarc held up Krea’s left hand and began flicking up fingers as she counted, “You, Reedis, and Annabelle. Hana can take care of herself —” she shot a smile to the dark-eyed girl who nodded back with just the least signs of worry “— and I’ll take Nestor on my back.”