Twin Soul Series Omnibus 2: Books 6-10

by McCaffrey-Winner

  He can’t hear you! A voice roared gleefully in Ford’s head.

  “I heard it!” Hana cried in pain. “Ford, I heard it!”

  “Go!” Ford screamed to her. “Get away from here! Warn the others!”

  “I don’t know where!” Hana cried in despair.

  Ford pointed behind her. “Go to the shore, then head north!” he shouted. “Quickly, before it kills again!”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Don’t worry about me,” Ford shouted, gesturing again with one clenched fist. “Just go!”

  Hana twisted around, torn between helping Ford and alerting the others. Finally, with a sob, she thrust herself away as fast as she could toward the shore, leaving a blast of wind behind her.

  In his harness, Ford felt the wind blow on him. In a flash of inspiration, he rolled up his sleeve to the bitter cold, pulled his knife from its sheath and slashed down quickly, letting the wind blow his blood far and fast.

  “Here I am!” Ford shouted, as he floated with the wind. “Come and get me!”

  In the distance, the snow serpent roared with the joy of the hunt.

  #

  “Hana?” Angus cried when he spotted a figure in the far distance moving toward them up around the seashore. The figure seemed to falter, falling, and then lifted once more, moving in a serpentine line northwards.

  “Ophidian!” Angus shouted. The dragon god appeared beside him, his expression furious. Angus pointed to the distance. “Is that Hana?”

  “What if it is?” Ophidian asked in a surly tone.

  A screech distracted them and they both turned to see Krea Wymarc dive toward the distant figure. It was falling, lifeless, toward the ground.

  “Take me to her!” Angus ordered. Ophidian’s eyes glowed red with anger. “Please?”

  And they were there. Angus dove, using abilities that he didn’t think about and grabbed Hana by the arm, then dropped further and wrapped his other arm around her.

  “It’s okay,” he said to the limp form. “I’ve got you.”

  “Ford,” Hana said in a whimper. “It’s after him.”

  “Ophidian!” Angus bellowed, causing the others to turn toward him.

  “I heard,” the dragon god said. “But I can’t take you there with this magic —”

  “Empty!” Angus ordered, glaring at the god.

  “That’s one way to do it,” Ophidian murmured. The next moment they were gone.

  Chapter Nine

  Ford was tired. He’d covered his arm with his jacket as soon as he had the beast’s attention but he was still dripping blood and he was freezing from its loss. He’d managed to lure the serpent from the village up to the foothills and now into the mountains as the breeze that Hana had sent, slowly dying, had wafted him further and further away.

  At least they’re safe, Ford thought as he glanced to the ruined village in the distance. He imagined it was some Issian outpost, a new settlement that wasn’t on his map. If it had been, I might have thought to come here first.

  “Up, up, up!” Ford ordered the balloon as the serpent gained altitude climbing among the hills. The balloon pulled him upwards. Ford grinned and shouted back down to the blue-white shape slithering below. “I’m up here!”

  The serpent bellowed in rage and anger, increasing its speed and climbing further upwards and further away from the village.

  “Up!” Ford called again to the balloon. His eyes narrowed as he gaged his progress: was the balloon rising slower? How long would Reedis’ spells last? He knew that the balloon might stay inflated forever but the spell to rise or fall, that was something that would wear off, wouldn’t it?

  The beast below was everything Ford remembered from his distant past. It was a serpent which slithered and writhed with four legs set at great distance along its bulk. The head was huge, nearly as large as its body, and it had no neck, the head joining directly to the sinewy body. Atop its head were curled horns and small ears. Its eyes were huge and dark, its mouth wide — it looked like it could open its mouth as wide as its body.

  At least it can’t fly, Ford thought thankfully to himself.

  Fly? The word was scarcely in Ford’s brain when the world erupted in a maelstrom of motion.

  “Ford!” A distant cry came even as Ford felt something rip into his midriff, tear him and suddenly he was streaming upwards and in pain, pain, pain!

  You taste good! The beast shouted triumphantly.

  “Ford!” It was Reedis, crying in terror and alarm. Ford tried to turn toward him, but found it hard. He tumbled in his harness and found himself looking straight down into the dark eyes of the serpent as it leaped straight up for him, chewing mightily on something —

  The lower half of Ford’s body.

  #

  They burst out into the sky just as they heard a shriek of triumph and saw the blue-white serpent leap upwards, snapping its jaws tightly around captain Ford’s lower half.

  “Ford!” Annabelle cried in terror. She shrieked in horror as the beast’s jaws tore the captain in half. Ford’s head and torso lurched upwards as the serpent fell back.

  “Ford!” Reedis added his pained voice to Annabelle’s.

  “Hana!” Angus cried to the girl he was holding in his arms. She groaned at his words. “We need you!” He turned in his balloon harness and snarled at the serpent below. He waved his hands and threw a venomous curse its way. It streaked from him as a bolt of fire.

  The serpent shrieked in pain as the bolt hit just behind its foreleg and it turned to face its attacker, bellowing in rage and vengeance.

  “Krea Wymarc!” Nestor cried toward the wyvern. The winter wyvern turned red eyes toward him. He smiled at her. “I love you,” he said. Then, to his balloon, he said, “Empty.” With that, he plunged downwards.

  “Hana!” Angus cried, seeing the prince fall and instantly guessing his intentions. “Blow him toward the serpent!”

  “Fire!” Reedis cried furiously, throwing a fire bolt of his own toward the serpent.

  “We can’t kill her!” Annabelle cried in warning.

  “It killed the captain!” Reedis shouted back, hurling another bolt toward the enraged serpent.

  “But we can’t kill her,” Annabelle shouted back. “Now matter how hard we try.”

  “That is for the gods,” Ophidian added, eyeing the purple mage with disgust.

  Reedis pointed back down the mountain to the village, still burning in the distant. “What about them?”

  “You do not want Pallas dead,” Ophidian said. In the distance, Krea Wymarc screeched in agreement. He waved toward her. “Trust us on this.”

  “Then help us!” Angus bellowed.

  “I am,” Ophidian said, surprised. He gestured toward Nestor who lurched even closer to the serpent.

  With a jolt, Nestor landed on the serpent’s back. He clung on for dear life even as the serpent bellowed in rage. It jerked upwards, trying to shake him off and catch the upper half of Ford at the same time.

  With a cry of horror, Nestor saw that Ford was hanging upside in the remains of his harness.

  “Captain Ford!” Nestor cried, straining to reach one hand upwards toward the dying man.

  “My King,” Ford said, glancing at Nestor with a pained look of surprise on his face. “Promise me —”

  “Anything!” Nestor shouted back.

  “Promise me you’ll forgive her,” Ford called down. He groped his hands against the harness and pulled free from it. “She is so sorry.”

  And he plummeted down, falling into the gaping jaws of the triumphant serpent.

  “Richard!” Reedis cried down from the heavens above.

  Nestor slammed his fist against the heavy scales of the serpent in anger and fury. He wanted to hurt it, to kill it. He reached around his person, looking for anything, any weap
on — and found the vial that Annabelle had given him.

  With a snarl, he pulled it out and plunged it deep into the serpent’s hide, feeling the glass vial shatter and give way as he did so, cutting his hand to ribbons and —

  “Nestor!” dimly the cry came to his ears over the roaring, the pain, the joy, the —

  A screech followed and he landed hard on something soft.

  And then he knew no more.

  Chapter Ten

  “Shh, shh!” a voice came to him. “You’re not to move!”

  Where am I? Who am I?

  Dimly he remembered falling. He remembered crying in horror. The cold, he’d been freezing cold.

  I am so sorry! Can you ever forgive me? The words were not his. They were strange in his head and he grew frightened. I was mad with terror and rage. I didn’t mean it!

  “My King,” a voice came back to him. Richard. Captain Ford.

  Nestor opened his eyes. And closed them again just as quickly. The room was spinning.

  “It will take a while,” a voice cautioned him. “You must give it time.”

  “Wymarc?” Nestor asked, his eyes still closed. His voice was just above a whisper.

  “We’re here,” Krea’s voice came back to him with a deep warmth. Krea. The name brushed at Nestor’s memory and he winced.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Nestor said with all his heart. “I didn’t know —”

  “You must hold onto that, my prince,” Wymarc said with Krea’s voice. “It is important that you hold onto that.”

  Important?

  Krea. She was important.

  He loved her flowing grace, her kind smile. How could he have ever thought to hurt her?

  I’m so sorry. I didn’t know, the other voice said in his head.

  I didn’t know, Nestor repeated the thought. And then his eyes jerked open and he found himself looking up at Krea’s body, saw the concern on her face. “What happened?”

  “It was a very strange choice,” Ophidian’s voice came back from another part of the room. Nestor twitched his head in the god’s direction and regretted it as the world spun behind his eyes and his stomach protested.

  “What was?”

  “I’m sure the love potion helped,” Ophidian continued, ignoring his question. “But I never would have guessed.”

  “Father!” Wymarc scolded in Krea’s voice. Nestor could always tell when the wyvern spoke and when Krea used her voice herself. There was something… something in the tone.

  Nestor went rigid in thought and fear.

  I am so, so sorry. The thought was in a different tone.

  “What happened to the serpent?” Nestor asked, his voice gravelly and hard.

  A hand patted his shoulder soothingly.

  “You happened, Nestor,” Ophidian told him approvingly.

  Pallas? Nestor said to the other voice he’d been hearing.

  Your friend, the serpent replied miserably. I only meant —

  You’re a girl! Nestor thought in surprise.

  Epilog

  “Feeling better?” a man’s voice said above him.

  “I was dying, I was cut in half —” Captain Sir Richard Ford said in surprise. He realized he felt no pain. “And now I’m not.”

  “Of course,” the man said.

  Ford opened his eyes and smiled. “Hello, Terric,” he said to the god of Death.

  “Balance has come,” a small child’s voice piped up from Ford’s other side. He turned and realized that he was seeing Aron, the god of Judgement, for the last time.

  “You were on the ship,” Ford said, suddenly remembering all the other times he’d seen the lad.

  Aron smiled and nodded at him. “You remember now.”

  “The others?” Ford said, first to the boy and then to Terric.

  “They continue,” the god of Death said.

  “They are needed,” Aron said, smiling and bouncing on his feet.

  “I thought as much,” Ford said. He glanced around. “Arolan?”

  “This is not his territory,” Terric said sadly.

  “Did I fulfill my oath?” Ford asked, glancing to the god of Judgement. Aron nodded. Ford sighed. “Good.” He said to both of the gods, “Please convey my respects to him.”

  “You served him well,” Aron said. “That is all he asked.”

  Ford nodded and glanced to Terric. “Can I stand?”

  “If you wish,” Terric said. He helped Ford to his feet for the last time.

  Ford gestured to the two gold hoops in his ears. “Will they suffice?”

  “They will,” the god of Death agreed. He waved a hand. “Bryan, please escort our friend onwards.”

  “With pleasure,” the Ferryman said.

  “Please give my regards to your mother and sister,” Ford said as the Ferryman grasped his hand and Terric placed gold coins in his eyes.

  “Certainly,” Bryan replied.

  “It was interesting, wasn’t it?” Aron said to Terric in the silence that followed.

  “I don’t think he could have done better,” Terric said, pocketing the two gold coins once more.

  Iron Air

  Book 8

  Twin Soul series

  Chapter One

  Rabel Zebala opened his eyes to a world of white. He closed his eyes immediately, dazzled by a brilliance that threatened to blind him. The sun. The sun was just on the horizon, rising — he guessed — and it filled the room with a fiery white light.

  Finally the sun rose high enough that the world beyond his closed eyes was only bright, not blinding, and he took the chance of opening his eyes, narrowed to merest slits.

  The room was white. In fact, Rabel realized, the room was ice. He stood up, letting the blankets wrapped loosely around him fall away. He was still in his clothes.

  Then he remembered. He had been riding a dragon. They’d been fleeing, flying in the night through a blizzard and… there was a girl as well.

  Ellen. The little street urchin.

  He raced out of the white room into the brilliant morning air, crying, “Ellen!”

  A small form appeared over the crest of a hill. She waved at him and Rabel’s chest eased.

  “We were just getting food,” she cried, waving behind her. Another form came into view: a young man, in his late teens or early twenties, striding along behind her with a glum expression and a heavy sack on his back.

  “Who are you?” Rabel demanded irritably. He was annoyed with himself over his fear for the child, more annoyed that she was with a stranger, and relieved beyond imagining that nothing untoward had occurred. Unless the stranger was dangerous.

  “What? Don’t you remember?” the young man called back. His expression changed, as he said gruffly, “You summoned me.”

  “Oh!” Rabel said, enlightened. He cocked his head apologetically. “I didn’t recognize you.”

  The young lad nodded and guided the little girl over to the ice cave.

  Rabel turned back to examine it, then back to the lad. “Your doing?”

  “With the last of my strength,” the lad agreed. He placed a hand on Ellen’s shoulder. “She’s quite a taskmaster, in case you didn’t know.”

  “I only begged him,” Ellen said in her defense.

  “She’s got ability,” Rabel said, half apologizing.

  The lad nodded in agreement and gestured for Rabel to precede them into the cave.

  #

  Inside, the sack was poured out onto Rabel’s bedding to reveal bread, cut meats, a jar of butter, a couple of bottles and a few herbs.

  “Eat,” the lad said. Rabel nodded gratefully, tearing up a piece of the bread and handing it to Ellen.

  “We’ve had some already,” Ellen said, shaking her head and pushing it back to him.

&n
bsp; Rabel didn’t need further encouragement, chomping down the slice and reaching for some meat.

  “Where are we?” he said when he’d swallowed. He eyed the bottles warily.

  “Right where you told us to be,” the lad replied.

  “You’re Jarin,” Rabel said, examining the young man carefully. In human form, the dragon had dark hair and green eyes. He seemed younger than his body, as though he was less matured than his years would indicate. Rabel thought for a moment, then asked, “And where did I tell us to be?”

  “You told us to land just after we were across the border,” Ellen said. “We did and Jarin made this cave and we slept.”

  “So now what?” Jarin said. “Tell me why I don’t leave you right now.”

  “He’s Krea’s father,” Ellen said, grabbing his head to get his attention. “She’s the winter wyvern.”

  Jarin turned his gaze on Rabel. “You can’t be,” he said finally, “you’re not old enough.”

  “I told you,” Ellen said in irritation, “he made a deal with Ophidian.” She glanced toward Rabel and gave him a look, worried that perhaps she should not have revealed that secret.

  “Your father had us call you,” Rabel said.

  “My father?”

  “Ophidian,” Ellen said.

  “The god?” Jarin asked. He glanced to Rabel for confirmation. “You’re saying that I’m the son of a god?”

  “That’s what he told me,” Rabel said.

  “Annora Wymarc said —” Jarin stopped and closed his eyes in pain. “Annora is no more.”

  “She is not,” Rabel agreed. “Wymarc twinned with my daughter —”

  “Your daughter!” Jarin exclaimed. His brows furrowed. “Krea? Krea is your daughter?”

  “You’re repeating yourself,” Ellen said.

  “If I am, little girl,” Jarin replied sharply, “it’s because I cannot believe the words themselves!”

  “What did Annora Wymarc say?” Ellen prompted. Jarin gave her a questioning look. “You were saying…”