Inside, Rozenn stood by the fire, blond hair flowing around her shoulders, eyes glistening. She held Aryn, the baby nuzzling her shoulder. Chellai and Thanelan ran to embrace him while casting wary glances at the stranger, their usual chatter subdued. “We was hearing a story, Lord Raze,” Chellai whispered.
“My papa is dead.” Thanelan’s eyes watered. “We buried him in the back with Lanya.”
“My mum and my papa are dead too,” Chellai said and bit her lip.
Raze squatted before the children, heart breaking for the teary pair as he embraced them. Love welled and rushed like a storm over his soul for the little boy, the scrawny body held tight. “I love you both and will always look after you.”
“Are you hungry?” Rozenn asked. Raze straightened and introduced her to Danzell. “If it’s no trouble. Something simple, Roz.”
She handed Aryn to him, and he cradled his sweet son while he watched her work, holding back what he longed to say and tamping down the aching sadness churning in this chest. He gazed down at the baby, disoriented by the presence of his family that wasn’t his family. His stomach twisted, and his sorrow threatened to erupt in his eyes. He handed the bundle to Danzell. “I’ll be back.”
He bolted through the door and reeled down the steps, choking back his tears. The night drowned in stars. Frogs chirped, and bats swooped over the dirt yard in their hunt for insects. He sat on the porch steps and breathed, attempting to manage the unbearable loss.
The door opened behind him, and a moment later, Rozenn sank beside him. “You’re feeling Samoth, aren’t you? You swallowed his soul.”
He angled his head to face her grief. Beautiful and kind, his lover, the mother… He loosed a gust of air and closed his eyes, quelling his confusion. “I did. And his love for you and our…your children is overwhelming. I’m…experiencing it as my own.”
“Thank you.” She held a hand to her mouth and stifled her cry.
“I care for you,” he said. “I always have, but this is different. I’m…” Words deserted him. Lost, desperate, in need of her comfort and touch, in love beyond his ability to cope. “I’m not sure how to handle this.”
“You’ll learn and so will I. Things will feel different between us, but you aren’t Samoth. You will never replace Samoth. You’re Raze, and your passion belongs to Bel.”
“I shouldn’t have swallowed his soul.”
“Nae.” She touched his arm. “I’m glad you did. I like that in a strange way he’s lingered. He was a wonderful man, and his qualities and skills will serve you well. You will adjust as you’ve done before, as he did. You will find your balance.”
How could he explain that it extended deeper than qualities and skills? Samoth’s soul streamed with thoughts and emotions, memories of experience. Raze kept those impressions to himself. For want of a choice, he would adapt. “You’re right, Roz. That helps.” His heartbeat settled, and the pain softened into a dull ache. Bel waited for him, and he loved her to the core of his soul. Though Roz would always hold a place of longing in his heart, the feeling belonged to another man.
~
Danzell doted on the baby, dangling the Temple key over its pudgy fingers, the child’s face the epitome of concentration. Raze and Rozenn returned, the two of them bruised by sorrow, though the tension that propelled them out the door had softened like autumn’s first snow.
Her heart felt for them. Her souls were cerebral, thinkers with little time for the vicissitudes of emotion. She’d seldom needed to manage their complex feelings of love or grief. Ideas and inspiration generated enthusiasm, little more. And other than the essence of her dead husband, none of the souls she’d swallowed belonged to friends. She’d avoided all the entanglements such associations would entail and was glad of it.
The talk around the table turned to horses, Vax’s plans for a new barn, and the skills boasted by the young farmhands. Raze relished the talk, and she regretted that his simple life had become so unhinged. She would help him reclaim that dream, then claim her own.
When the fire burned low, the gathering dwindled, Garrick to bed and Orson out to smoke a pipe as if he were an old man. Before Rozenn retired, she handed Raze a glowing pendant. His brow furrowed. He looked up at her, then at Vax.
“It’s Lanya’s.” She winced. “I…I don’t want it. No one does. We loved her, but she was so cranky. We decided to leave its fate to you.” She exhaled and kissed his forehead, then headed for her room, the children in tow.
He held the glowing soulstone in his palm. “She’s right; Lanya was rigid and grouchy, and though I also loved her, I’m not about to swallow her soul.” He held it out to Vax who shook his head.
“What should I do with it?” Raze asked him. “I can’t sell it? We can’t leave her stuck in there?”
“May I offer a solution?” Laddon said.
Danzell startled. He sat on the hearthstone that had lain vacant a moment before. She cleared her throat. “Someone I know has a suggestion.”
“Laddon?”
She nodded.
“They can burn it,” Laddon said. “Unbound souls exist beyond the physical realm and aren’t subject to pain like those who reside in mortal bodies. No one can destroy a soul, but the sphere containing it is another matter.” He held his hand in the flames. “When the pearl is reduced to ash, her soul will fly free.”
Danzell blew out a breath. “It’s going to sound horrible, but he assures me that a soul is impervious to physical pain.”
“Who’s she talking about?” Vax narrowed his eyes. “What’s she threatening?”
“She sees unbound souls,” Raze replied. “Like Talaith but without the madness.”
“Nae,” Laddon said. “Tell him it wasn’t an unbound soul that troubled her but the slavers’ souls she swallowed. She murdered the men and women who killed her sister, then swallowed every one of their souls.”
Danzell inhaled, the account chilling. In her act of revenge, the woman had obliterated her life. “Her story is far different than mine.”
“What do you know?” Raze rubbed his forehead.
Skepticism lined Vax’s face. Danzell paused, uncertain of his readiness to hear from the dead. “Because Laddon told me,” she said. “He visited with her before she died.”
“Why didn’t he bring her to the freehold?” Raze asked. “When he learned she was ill?”
“He was already dead.”
Raze frowned and stared into the fire’s crimson embers, attempting to fold his brain around the implications. He glanced at Vax. “The soul who speaks to Danzell is Laddon Demiris, and he’s the sole reason we hold any chance of saving Bel. I mean to hear what he has to say. You’re welcome to listen, but I don’t blame you if you’d rather not.”
The old man stayed put. “I don’t want to swallow Lanya’s soul either.”
Danzell lowered her voice. “Laddon says there’s no physical pain. He says when the pearl burns to ash, her soul will be free.”
“Free for what?” Vax asked.
“Free to be reborn.”
“You’re telling us to burn Lanya’s soul?” Vax grimaced.
“To burn the container holding her captive,” she said. “And the choice is yours; I’m only sharing Laddon’s advice. I believe we can trust him.”
“I do too,” Raze said. “Vax?”
The old man’s chin drew back, and he blinked at the fire. “I suppose I won’t stop you.”
Raze untwisted the wires binding the cap on the simple pendant. He emptied the luminous sphere into his hand and rolled it in his palm.
How many times had Danzell done the same before placing it between her lips? Swallowing a soul had irreversible consequences, and yet, it seemed easier than casting the pearl into the flames.
“I’m not leading you wrong,” Laddon said.
“I have faith in you,” she said and faced the two men. “It’s your choice, Raze, yours and Vax’s.”
Raze tossed the sphere in the coals. Flames curled arou
nd the glowing shell, brightening until it burst in a flash of brilliant color, an entire rainbow in an eyeblink.
“That’s it?” Vax asked. “Is she gone?”
Laddon leaned toward Danzell, and a mischievous smile creased his eyes as he told her what to say. She peered at the two men, unclear what the message meant. “Lanya says if she’d learned about what you planted in the garden, she would have paddled both of your behinds.”
Vax’s eyes bulged, and Raze barked a laugh. “I guess she knows about the slaver’s body.”
~27~
Danzell rose early, prodded awake by Laddon, the soul full of plans. She and Raze set out for the main road with saddlebags stocked, Raze in the lead.
Laddon wandered beside her horse, eyes on the sunrays spearing the darkness above the peaks. “I aspired to train as an artist,” he said, the man transformed into a chatterbird. “My first swallowed soul belonged to my uncle, a man with a magnificent eye for the subtlety of light. To him, a graceful generosity infused the world. It tendered an endless invitation to discovery, a summons to listen and see with a quiet mind so we might uncover its secrets.”
“I hope I’m not stuck with you for the rest of my life,” she told him, though in truth, the handsome ghost had grown on her.
“Intermittently,” he replied.
“I appreciate your discretion.”
“For the most part, I appear when I’m in your thoughts, Danzell. “Don’t think of me, and you will enjoy your privacy.”
“Hm. Now that you’ve planted the seed, I imagine I’ll think of you at the least opportune times.”
He smiled. “I have a task for you.”
“I’m listening.”
“Raze will return to Avanoe alone. You and I shall ride for Kestrel.”
The suggestion that he “rode” tickled her imagination but taking orders from a ghost hadn’t been in her plans. She tightened her eyes and focused on Raze’s back. “Why?”
“Best if you rely on your instincts.”
“He’ll demand the answer as much as I.”
“Benjmur’s weakness resides in Kestrel, and Benjmur is the key to your brother’s defeat."
“Nallea.” Danzell frowned. “Raze won’t risk his family.”
“Thus, the vagueness of my original reply to your query.”
With a sigh, she pulled alongside Raze. He eyed her with the same wariness she’d encountered in Espen. If forced to guess, Samoth looked back at her more than the gentle man who’d become her friend. “I suppose I shouldn’t worry about you,” she said.
He arched his eyebrows.
“I’m not used to your new skills.”
“You haven’t seen them all yet.” His hand rested on the hilt of his sword. “I don’t know their full extent, or how they’ll change as I practice and as we integrate.”
“It’s a strange thing, this soul swallowing, isn’t it? I’ve concluded that Laddon is right about me. I don’t require any additional scholarly opining inside my head, not at the cost of myself.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” He faced the road ahead. “Bel had me questioning the merits of the practice when I first met her. Even in my limited experience, I’ve seen wisdom and tenderness passed from soul to soul, as well as fear and brutality.”
“Raze, I’m not going with you to Avanoe.” She hadn’t intended to deliver the decision so abruptly, but better to blurt it out than save it for the fork in the road. He cocked his head, eyes squeezed into slits. She adjusted her cowl in the brightening sun. “Laddon wants me in Kestrel.”
“And you know I need Laddon in Avanoe. He has to convince Athren he’s well and explain to her that Sajem killed him, not the Anvrells. That means I need you.”
Laddon shook his head. “Tell him that Kyzan mustn’t learn of your ability, or he will brand you a madwoman in addition to a murderess. Instead, I will share secrets with him known only to my mother. She will believe him.”
Danzell relayed the statement.
“Like the slaver buried in Lanya’s garden?” Raze huffed.
“Ai,” Laddon said. “The same.”
“The same,” Danzell echoed. “It’s not ideal, but he’s right. From Kestrel, I’ll sail for Tegir.”
For the balance of the ride to the main road, Danzell worked as a translator conveying the stories of the dead to the living. She shared all the intimate details of a life between a mother and son, everything Laddon told her from their moments of childhood tenderness to their spats, to the secret dreams she would recognize as his. If Raze failed to convince her with the words of her son’s soul, then nothing but his living body would do.
~
Danzell rode into Kestrel’s Keep through the rear gate, exchanging the forest’s dirt road for the city’s cobbled streets. She’d passed under that gate before, the same one Sajem’s assassin used after pounding an arrow into Lord Rydan’s chest. The following fight had squandered lives, and she might have lost hers as well—if Sajem had found the courage to kill her.
After the fight, Benjmur had slain their sole captive before the slaver had a chance to reveal who ordered the death. An accident as he claimed? That was the first of several occurrences in which she’d questioned Benjmur’s character. The links connecting Sajem to the governor weren’t forged of iron, but they rattled in Avanoe’s direction. What was the lord’s objective? To inflate his self-worth, to fill his coffers, or rival Ezar? Had he played a role in the destruction of her conclave? Or had he picked a side and simply remained loyal to Kyzan?
Fidelity was commendable, and she understood the appeal of empire. It grew from a desire to organize, secure, and create stability. Heaped on top of the perceived benefits lay a balm of addictive power. Her vision of rule varied from her brother’s, and for the first time, the merits of seizing the throne piqued her interest.
Kestrel’s streets wound like those of Tegir, but the hilly Vales’ city encompassed a mere fraction of her home’s territory. If she wished, she could walk from one end to the other in a matter of hours. But it also possessed a quaint prettiness, gardened with arbors and lawns, glades of elegant trees, and the magnificent falls with their arched bridges.
The setting sun hammered the waves into a shield of rose and gray. She rode into the Anvrell’s rear yard and handed her reins to a groom at the stable. The steward announced her and escorted her to a candlelit salon to wait. A repast of crusty bread and smoked eel arrived on a silver salver along with a bottle of wine. She poured herself a half-glassful and browsed the leather-bound books lining the shelves.
“Lords Rydan and Azalus Anvrell and Lady Nallea,” the steward announced at the door.
Danzell dipped her chin and ignored her irritation at the introduction of the men first, a slight unheard of in Ezar. “My lady, lords, my regrets for arriving unannounced.”
“A pleasure under any circumstances, Lady Tegir,” Lord Rydan said, bowing at the waist. He’d aged ten years since his springtime wounding, face haggard and body honed to a frail wisp of his previous self. His hair and beard sported a wealth of gray.
“Welcome to Kestrel,” Nallea said. “It’s good to see you safe. Our escape from Tegir left us no time for proper farewells.”
“My flight was equally hasty,” Danzell said. Azalus waved them toward an arrangement of cushioned chairs, and she accepted a seat. “I’m afraid I bring difficult news regarding Raze.”
Lord Rydan stiffened and Azalus frowned. “My brother left for his freehold after our arrival from Tegir. Surely he’s there.”
“Slavers raided his home,” she said. “They slew two of his people, a woman named Lanya, and Samoth, his horseman. He swallowed Samoth’s soul, and I’m certain you will notice the difference in him. He’s been on the road without an opportunity to notify you. Thus I’m taking the liberty.”
A moment of shocked silence sucked the air from the room.
“By Sajem?” Nallea whispered, fingers pressed to her lips.
“Ai. He captured Belizae, a
nd Raze followed them to Avanoe. To the Governor’s Hall.”
“To my father?” Nallea’s forehead creased. “I don’t understand.”
Danzell shared a glance with Azalus before she answered, “Lord Benjmur and Lady Athren are holding Belizae hostage until you return Laddon.”
“Laddon?” Azalus jolted to his feet. “What does this have to do with Laddon?”
“They accuse you of imprisoning or murdering him.”
Nallea gasped. “That’s ridiculous!”
Rydan’s jaw clenched, and anger gleamed in his steely eyes. “This is an act of aggression that won’t go unanswered.”
“I’ll gather a company of guards.” Azalus paced behind the chairs. “We’ll go by sea.”
“Nae, wait!” Nallea’s hand rose to her pendant, fidgeting with the star-shaped stone. “This must be a mistake. My father wouldn’t do something so cruel.”
Danzell sighed. “I’m sorry, Nallea, but I share the truth as Raze spoke it. I came from his freehold. I saw the graves.” She faced Rydan and Azalus. “We found Laddon’s body. Raze rides for Avanoe with as much proof as we could muster. I cannot speak to whether Lady Athren is prepared to accept our evidence. And there’s the murder of my sister. Benjmur has threatened to hold Raze for trial.”
“This makes no sense!” Nallea cried. “My father was there! He knows we had no hand in the Empress’s death. Something is terribly wrong.”
Azalus’s face blazed with fury. “Your father’s actions are suspect, Nallea. I don’t trust him.”
“He’s my father. How can you say that?” Nallea gripped her skirt as if she intended to tear it. “None of this makes sense. He wouldn’t act so rashly. He wouldn’t attempt to harm my family. I’m going to Avanoe.”
“Nae, you’re not.” Azalus scowled at her. “You’re staying. I’ll go.”
“You can’t stop me, Azalus.” Nallea clenched her fists. “Especially in light of these accusations!”
Legacy of Souls Page 17
