Veiled Innocence (Book One, The Soul Cycle)

by Jones, Krystle

  He raised a white brow. “There was a man with you, was there not?”

  Lian gasped. “Rowan! Then he’s here?”

  The man nodded. “He… had some terrible wounds that needed to be cleansed and bound before the Darkness had a chance to roam free. But yes, he is safe.”

  Lian didn’t miss the sparkle in Vishka’s dark eyes. She blinked, and it vanished, rendering her expression unreadable once more.

  “My queen also bids me to bring you to our Court,” the man said. “Come. There is much to discuss.”

  Before they could ask questions, the pale man turned gracefully to the emaciated garden and waved his hand in a crescent moon arc in the air. The air shimmered, and the untended garden dissolved in a veil of gold and silver dust, revealing a radiant courtyard lit by gentle afternoon sunlight.

  The man beckoned for them to follow him. Then he stepped into the sunlight, his pallid robes lighting up in a blaze of white. He was beautiful, and the sight brought tears to Lian’s eyes.

  The garden was extraordinary, the most beautiful she had ever seen. Her breath caught in her chest as they followed the silver man down a walkway made of thousands of glittering crystals. The path wound around exquisite, fully blossomed flowers that had been no more than dried up plants a few moments before. Lush greenery spilled over the tops of tall pillars, and birds serenaded them from the limbs of the weeping willows and lilac trees that peppered the garden. It was warm, and the air smelled sweet and sharp with a myriad of scents Lian had never smelled before.

  “I am sorry that our queen cannot be here to greet you herself,” the man said without turning. “She sends her apologies.”

  Lian glanced at Vishka, whose expression still held a hint of distrust, but otherwise she looked as amazed as Lian felt. The garden was beyond lovely, and though it calmed her, it did not make her any less curious.

  “Who is this queen you speak of?”

  The silver man stole a glance at her over his shoulder. “She is Dreaka, oldest of the Immortals.”

  Lian almost stopped walking. “Dreaka? As in, the Goddess of Light and Life? The one who controls destiny?”

  The man looked at her strangely. “She has been called many things over the centuries, but I suppose a goddess is as good a name as any.”

  Lian was speechless. It couldn’t be real. She didn’t believe in the gods. “And what is your name, sir?”

  The man smiled like he was hiding a secret. “I too have many names, but you may simply call me Lord Winter.”

  A small gasp escaped Vishka, but when Lian looked at her, Vishka shook her head, as if saying, “Not now,” and so Lian kept her mouth shut.

  They came to a set of long, slender rose quartz steps, and Lian lifted her tattered skirts to keep from tripping. Vishka hadn’t taken her eyes off Lord Winter; she studied him with an expression Lian couldn’t place.

  When they reached the top of the stairs, Vishka spoke. “My Lord, where are we?”

  Lord Winter’s smile broadened. “We are in the Court of Eternal Life. Nothing here grows old, nor does it ever die. And it is here –” his hand swept the expanse of the ornate arched oak doors that stood before them –“you will find the answers you seek.”

  He took a step forward, and the doors opened for him of their own accord. He stepped inside, followed by Lian and Vishka, into a large oval room filled with tall windows and sunlight. Birds sang from the rafters, and the air smelled of honey and sugar. At first, Lian thought the domed ceiling had been painted to look like a nighttime sky, but when she squinted her eyes, she noticed the stars were twinkling and bright round objects were spinning in the heavens. Tapestries hung from the walls; Lian recognized some of the stories they told. One in particular caught her breath.

  “This one.” She pointed to a girl with golden ringlets flanked by a fully armored knight and a woman with long dark hair with a crown on her head. “This is us, isn’t it?”

  Lord Winter nodded. His sapphire blue eyes sparkled. “Very good, child. This tapestry has yet to be completed since your story is still unfolding.”

  Lian noticed that parts of the fabric held no color, as if the weaver had run out of ideas. “Our story,” she murmured, running her fingers along the silky material. It rippled under her touch, like water, and she hastily withdrew her hand.

  “Come.” Lord Winter guided them to a dais carpeted by white velvety petals.

  Lian knew what they were the moment her bare feet treaded them. “Yeullises,” she exclaimed, picking up a petal and stroking it. “I haven’t seen one in years.” She remembered her first vision, of the yeullis that disintegrated in her hand. “Well, at least not a real one,” she muttered.

  Three thrones sat atop the dais. The one on the far left looked like it had been carved from ice, and that was the one Lord Winter sat in. The one on the far right looked soft and golden, like it had been made from sunlight. The largest stood in the center, and a vine of white yeullises wound around its tall crystalline frame. Lian stared at it, not quite believing her eyes.

  Lord Winter watched her. “The queen’s favored flower,” he said. “They bring her much joy. Do you know what ‘yeullis’ means?”

  Lian nodded. “‘Inner light.’ They are named so because on the first eve of Summer, when daylight is at its longest, they glow as if lit from within.”

  Lord Winter chuckled, reaching out to gently stroke one of the soft blossoms. “Yes… lit from within…” he repeated, turning his gaze to Lian.

  Lian shifted uncomfortably. He’s giving me the same look Vishka did at the campfire. Is there something wrong with me, something I cannot see?

  She didn’t have time to ask because Lord Winter’s face turned more serious. “Now we must speak of the reason you have been brought here. A great task lies before you.”

  Vishka’s head snapped forward. “What do you know of this task?”

  Lord Winter stroked the goatee on his chin. “Probably as much as you do, my dear. The queen is not allowed to speak of what she sees.” He held out a fist to Lian, palm up. “I believe I have something of yours.”

  White light swirled around his fist, and when he opened his fingers, the teardrop sat in his palm.

  “My necklace!” Lian reached to her throat. Her throat felt so empty without it, she wondered how she didn’t notice it missing before. “I forgot about it.”

  Lord Winter motioned her forward, and she ducked her head as he draped the necklace over her neck. Lian cupped the gem in her hands. Its fire-white glow was gone, and its chain glittered in the sunlight, as if smiling up at her. It looked pretty and innocent.

  “Do you know what that is?”

  Lian’s head jerked up at Vishka’s quiet voice. She blinked. “It’s a necklace,” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

  “Just as I thought.” Vishka took a deep breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them, they flashed red. “You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”

  Orris’ voice echoed in her head. “Don’t pretend you didn’t see it yourself! The crystal is proof! She is the key to everything!”

  Lian’s eyes darted to the crystal and then back to Vishka, who was once again watching her with a peculiar, narrowed-eyed glare. “You know what Orris meant, don’t you?”

  Vishka blinked her eyes several times, as if trying to snap out of a trance, before shaking her head. “Not entirely.”

  “But you do know something. If you know anything about what’s happening to me, then please tell me!”

  Lian thought she saw sadness reflected in Vishka’s eyes, but her voice was low and unwavering. “It’s not as simple as that.”

  Lian was about to press on when Lord Winter spoke up from behind them. “Perhaps what you are looking for, young lady, is not to be found in this world.”

  She whirled to face him. “What do you mean ‘not to be found in this world’? That doesn’t make any sense. I only want to understand what’s happening to me, what I’m supposed
to do!”

  Lord Winter rested his hand on the arm of his throne, and frost formed beneath his fingertips. His cool gray eyes sparkled as he leaned forward. “Did you think Eresea was the only land there ever was? Oh no, child. There are many, many realms on a vast number of planes.”

  “But that doesn’t help me!” Lian’s face flushed. Hysteria started to creep into her voice. “You know something.” She looked at Vishka. “Both of you, and yet you still won’t tell me what it is! All this time, I thought I was losing my mind or that my dreams, these hallucinations, were just a figment of my imagination. But I didn’t imagine them. They were all real.”

  “They were real,” Lord Winter said gravely. “Everything that has happened to you has been a test, to see if you were really worthy to bear the crystal.”

  Then I’m truly not crazy.

  Extreme relief flooded her, and she took a deep breath, letting it out slowly in an attempt to calm herself. “Please, you have to help me,” she said, calmer this time. “Just tell me what’s going on. What is this, really?” She jerked the necklace toward him. “How am I the key to everything? For that matter, what is everything?”

  Lord Winter seemed unfazed by her outburst. Instead, he looked over her shoulder at Vishka. “It has begun.”

  Lian looked at him, trying to calm her heart. “What has?”

  Lord Winter turned still as snow on a winter morning. “The greatest war the world has ever seen.”

  He stood and twined his fingers behind his back. “The reason we cannot tell you what you want to know is because we are both forbidden, for to do so would directly alter the future, and as Immortals we are bound by such rules.” He paced in front of the thrones, snow flurries twirling in the air where he walked. “All I know is that when the crystal appears, it marks the arrival of the Great Darkness.” He paused and looked at her. “We all have our parts to play, but I fear yours will be the most difficult.”

  “But…” Lian bit her lip as the heat rose in her face again. “What if I don’t want this? I didn’t ask for it.”

  He looked down at her hand, where she still clutched the teardrop. “That crystal has marked you,” he said. “It belongs to you and you to it. You are bound together, and whatever happens to it will also fall upon you.”

  Lian started to speak, but he lifted a hand, cutting her off. “Should you choose to reject it, then another will take your place. But don’t think because you ignore it that the impact of all of this on you will be any less significant.”

  There was a long silence as she let this sink in. She stared at the crystal she so dearly loved and feared at the same time.

  “Don’t think because you ignore it that the impact of all of this on you will be any less significant.”

  “I…”

  Lian swallowed and closed her eyes. From the back of her mind, like a gentle wind blowing through a meadow, the dream voice whispered to her. “You are strong enough to face what lies ahead. Believe in yourself. It wouldn’t have appeared to you otherwise.”

  Lian ran her thumb along the crystal’s glossy surface. She looked sharply at Lord Winter, who stared at her with an expression akin to awe. “I accept.”

  The corner of his lips turned up in a wry half-smile. “So it shall be, Lady Lianora.”

  Lian started to smile at him, but a slew of images flashed before her eyes, a field where thousands battled, a blood red sky, cold dead hands shooting from the earth, a woman dying in the arms of a man, and feathers dark as the midnight sky. They came in a slew without warning, and she clenched her teeth together. Her eyes slammed shut as she tried to force the images out.

  “Go. Away.”

  Her grip tightened around the crystal, and she imagined a warm, white light at the center of the onslaught of visions. The light grew and grew until at last there was nothing left but the scent of yeullises. She felt the warmth of a hand resting on her shoulder blade, and when she looked up, Lord Winter was looking at her with concern.

  She simply nodded and sighed, deep and heavy, to ease her jarred nerves. He kept his hand on her shoulder until her breathing slowed before letting it gracefully drop back to his side.

  “You shouldn’t fight the images, my Lady,” he said. “They are sent to help so that you may have some foresight to things yet to come.”

  Lian blinked and held up the jewel. It faintly glowed, steadily growing brighter as the light in her mind subsided, as if the crystal was reclaiming the light she saw in her mind a few seconds before. “Where did this come from?”

  “It was with you all along,” he said. “You merely had to summon it.”

  She recalled weeping in her chambers all alone, feeling much like an outcast in her own home, when that teardrop had entered her life. She remembered the cheer it had brought her and felt a pang of guilt as she wondered again if it had been a mistake to trust it.

  Lord Winter looked upon her almost with pity. “You have many difficult trials ahead of you, I am afraid. But you are not alone in this fight, child.”

  Lian gave him a timid smile.

  He lifted his head, eyes growing distant. A second later they refocused. “Come.” He glided past them down the way they had entered. “You cannot linger in this realm any longer. Our time is up, and Darkness grows stronger with each passing moment.”

  Lian and Vishka, who was unusually silent, followed him down the path. Lian glanced once more at the tapestry with her story on it as they passed, briefly wondering what it would look like when it was complete. Then they were out the doors and outside in the courtyard.

  Sunlight bathed her grimy skin, and she suddenly felt very out of place in this perfect world, in her rag of a dress, dirt smudged face, and wild, unkempt hair. She hoped Lord Winter hadn’t noticed, but honestly how could he not? It had been days since she had last bathed. She blushed and folded her arms over her chest.

  Lord Winter led them back to the lake, where they first met him. It was twilight, and the sky was tinged a lighter blue toward the horizon, telling of the rising sun and the dawn of a new day. He turned to face them, and the sunlit courtyard faded back to the dead garden behind him.

  “My dear friends,” he said, “I must send you forth now to reclaim that which is truly yours.” He turned his eyes to Lian. “Your kingdom will be rebuilt, my Lady. It will be grander than it was before, but you must first conquer the Darkness which threatens to destroy Eresea. No peace can be found in this land until it is stopped.”

  “How will I know it, this Darkness you speak of?”

  He stared at her long and hard. “You have already met.”

  Orris. And once, I saw it in Anna… and even in myself. She shivered. What does that mean?

  Her stomach flipped, and she stared at the teardrop. “I… I’m not sure I can defeat it.”

  To her surprise, it was Vishka who stepped in front of her and shook her hard. “You will. You must, or we’re all damned.”

  Lian gave her a wry glance. “Thank you for putting it so delicately.”

  Lord Winter looked at Vishka, whose back was still turned. “Your soul will find peace, but it may not come in the way you expect.”

  Vishka whipped around so violently that Lian stumbled when she released her. Her eyes widened, and her face suddenly paled. “Yes?”

  Lord Winter smiled at her, kindness radiating from his eyes. “At some point, you are going to have to learn to forgive yourself.”

  Vishka stared at him, her mouth a tight, straight line, but said no more.

  Lord Winter extended his hands to them. “It is time.”

  “Wait!” Lian said. “What about Rowan?”

  “He will meet you on the other side,” Lord Winter said. “Please.” He held his hand to her. Vishka was already gripping his other hand, staring at her expectantly.

  Lian hesitated but finally clasped his hand. When she did, it was like thousands of slivers of ice sliced through her veins and tendons, and she cried out. Her necklace sparked to life at Lord Winter
’s touch, and once again, they found themselves enveloped in a brilliant white light.

  When the light dimmed, they stood atop a hill on a slender dirt road facing what looked like a rather old cottage. Lord Winter was gone, as were the statue and garden. The scent of wildflowers had been replaced by the sharp scent of the pine trees circling the cottage. It looked worn, like it may fall apart at any moment. Despite its haggard appearance, candles flickered merrily from several windows, and smoke drifted lazily from the chimney.

  Rowan was still nowhere to be found.

  Lian turned to Vishka, who was staring at her intently with that same sharp-eyed expression she wore earlier, as if she were studying her.

  “What?” Lian snapped. “Why do you keep staring at me that way?”

  Vishka blinked. “Nothing,” she said, then began walking toward the cottage. “I assume he brought us here for a reason,” she called over her shoulder. “Shall we find out?”

  Lian jogged down the hill after her, pebbles digging into her sore feet as she stumbled along. When she finally drew alongside Vishka, she was already rapping sharply at the crooked wooden door. It looked ready to fall off, held together by two rusty bolts that hadn’t seen oil nor polish in years.

  Light footsteps approached; Lian could hear a baby wailing. The candlelight under the door darkened as whoever was on the other side stopped in front of it. “Who is it?” The woman’s voice was meant to be threatening, but it came out as more feeble and afraid.

  “We mean you no harm, lady,” Vishka said. “We are travelers seeking food and shelter for the night.”

  The door shuddered as a bolt was unlatched, and it creaked as the woman cracked it open just enough to peer out. Her face was darkened by the glow of the fireplace behind her. “How many of you are there?”

  The moon peeked behind the dense cloud cover, casting shadows along the bones in her thin face as her eyes widened upon spotting Vishka. Her eyes drifted down to the saber at her hip. “Please,” she said, “I don’t want any trouble.”

  Vishka unfastened the saber from her belt and gently laid it on the ground before the door. “Neither do we,” she said with the most gentleness Lian had heard from her. “My companion and I are lost and need a place to stay for the night. I swear to you we will be gone at first light.”