Rain of Ash: Skydancer Book 1 (The Zyne Legacy)

by Gwen Mitchell

  The number of people crammed into the cavernous space shook her meager understanding of the world she’d been initiated into. For some reason, she had never thought of the Zyne in terms of a population. Even after seeing the enormity of the Arcanum, knowing it was one of many Zyne fortresses around the world, she hadn’t imagined there were so many of them. She faced an ocean of strangers, which wasn’t usually enough to make her nervous, but her heart and feet stuttered.

  Kinde guards, in their black suits and sunglasses, marked all the exits and were interspersed throughout the crowd. The curious on-lookers quieted as she walked down the aisle beside Aldric. The judgment and animosity plainly visible in their faces curled her stomach. The overall tone of the room was somber, with an anticipatory undercurrent that set her teeth on edge.

  “What do you think they will do after they take the relic?” Aldric whispered in her ear. “Do you want to go back to the life you had before you knew anything of the Zyne?”

  No matter what she wanted, she couldn’t go back. Even that life had been tainted by the demon. Eric was dead, her career most likely in ruins. She didn’t even care about that anymore. She couldn’t lose Kean and Astrid. Bri shook her head and hissed under her breath, “They can’t do that.”

  Aldric’s low tone still managed to project vehemence. “Protect the Legacy comes before any other law, my dear. Many rules can be overlooked in the name of that one.”

  Bri didn’t have time to formulate a response, because she finally realized where her father was leading her. Near the center of the Council forum was a crescent-shaped platform, carved out of the same shiny granite that decked the room. Behind it ranged twelve of the most intense scowls Briana had ever faced in her life…and one empty seat.

  Aldric reluctantly handed Bri off to a Kinde guard when they reached the bottom of the aisle. He gave her hand a quick squeeze before letting go, which she was certain was meant to warn, not reassure her.

  In fact, all assurances abandoned her the next moment. What if she didn’t get back to Astrid and Kean in time? What if they died because of her? And the worst part — the part that made her feel like she was falling through quicksand as she shuffled forward — what if the Council cursed her not to care? What if they made her forget the last two people in the world that mattered to her? She tasted bile on the back of her tongue.

  The Kinde guided her to a lone stool on the opposite side of the sparkling floor, and pressed her shoulder until she sat down. What was she doing here? How had things spiraled so quickly out of control? First Eric, then Geri. Her visions were proving false and coming true, in turns. She hadn’t seen any of this coming. Gawain’s hand in it was still unclear.

  A Soul Eater was coming for her. She wasn’t supposed to face him alone. Cold laughter rained through her memory, stinging icy shards, filling her lungs with ash and blood. He wanted the mirror. He’d always wanted the mirror, even centuries ago. But now there was something more. He was methodically punishing her, hurting the people she loved. Slowly cutting away pieces of her heart and soul. Why?

  Her burden. Her curse. But she was out of time to figure it out.

  The bleakness of her thoughts was enough to momentarily distract her from the fact that she was sitting center stage. The gathering had quieted to hushed murmurs. Her father took his seat behind the ominous black table, his dark robes and deep frown now blending in with the other twelve — a matched set.

  Twisting her hands in her lap, a familiar hotness spread through Bri’s system as the attention of the room focused on her, made all the more intense by the raw power of this place. Unlike her last visit, her Inner Eye was open now. She felt the magic in her bones, and was swamped with all of the emotion that pressed on her buckling shields. A tingling sensation began between her shoulder blades and radiated up and across her scalp.

  She searched her father’s face for something to steady her. She found no comfort there. If she ever needed bolstering, now was the time. She wasn’t sure if she was more likely to scream at the Council in rage or break down and grovel, but hysterics were imminent.

  Tears blurred the corners of her vision. The stone surrounding her seemed darker and colder. She gripped the sides of the stool and fought back a shiver as her insides twisted into knots.

  A soft throat-clearing, and the last of the whispering voices in the hall died. Some of the lights in the very back of the room faded. The spotlight didn’t normally intimidate her, but this was different. This could very well be the performance of her life.

  Bri faced a Council of thirteen witches who already looked prepared to suck up her memories and spit her back into her old life — one she now knew she’d be miserable in. She would rather die than go back.

  No, you would rather fight!

  Only a host of magically-inclined spectators and a cadre of immortal guards stood in her way. Her coven was locked in a fortress of endless labyrinthine hallways, and somewhere in the shadows, her enemy lurked, waiting for just the right moment to pounce.

  At the far end of the crescent table, a woman Bri had never seen before stood. She was tall and willowy, with artfully-styled mahogany hair and a voice like a clarinet. “Briana Celene Spurrier, daughter of Danielle and Aldric, we’ve convened this morning to address allegations made against you by the North Wake coven Sigma. Because of the seriousness of the charges, you’ve been brought here against your will. However, if you would agree to cooperate and blood-bind yourself to speak only the truth, the Council will not act on their right to forcefully interrogate you. Do you agree?”

  Bri blinked several times, trying to follow all of that. She didn’t have a Zyne translator on-hand. The Council speaker waited patiently for her answer. Bri cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, but what exactly is entailed in a blood-binding?”

  A quiet wave of whispers flowed behind her, but she ignored them, looking pointedly at the speaker for an answer.

  “It is a spell, sealed with blood, which binds you to tell the truth, or meet consequences.”

  “What consequences?” Bri fought to keep her hands relaxed and folded neatly in her lap when she longed to wrap them around her knees.

  The clarinet-lady gave a surprisingly throaty laugh. “In this case, a candle will go out.”

  As she said that, a young man dressed in a navy blue version of the black Council robes knelt in the center of the floor and laid out a candle, a very long needle, and various alter items.

  “Oh.” Bri let out the breath she’d been holding. “You mean, like a magical lie detector?”

  “Precisely.” The Councilwoman bowed her head.

  “Can I choose to not answer a question?” She couldn’t let herself get backed in to revealing the mirror, but anything that would help make this process go smoother and get her to Astrid and Kean faster was definitely worth a try.

  “We will not force you to answer a particular query if we are satisfied with your answers to a line of questioning as a whole.”

  “Okay.” She slid off the stool. It was awkward, performing an unfamiliar ritual with step-by-step instructions in front of an audience of hundreds of experienced magic-users. Her cheeks were hot by the time she managed to get the candle lit — on the third try. She resumed her seat, and the room fell eerily quiet again. The silence stretched on, grating like sandpaper on her nerves.

  The burly Council member in the middle of the table addressed her first. “Are you aware of any reason the North Wake Sigma would have to implicate you in the deaths of coven members Earl Stuart Moaggen and Geraldine Elsabeth Cameron?”

  “I didn’t kill anyone,” She answered automatically. Why was there no mention of Eric? Had Gawain kept that part a secret? Or did the lives of mundanes simply not matter to the Council? Both possibilities disturbed her. The flame on her candle didn’t flicker.

  “Please answer the question.”

  Bri frowned. “I’m not privy to Gawain’s reasons for doing anything he’s done the past few days.”

  “Mi
ss Spurrier,” clarinet-lady interjected, “this will go much smoother if you don’t search for loopholes in the questions.”

  Bri thought for a moment. What was the harm in giving the Council her side? Gawain knew she and Astrid and Kean weren’t killers, but he’d still turned them in. She didn’t have to lie, just lay out specific facts and let them draw their own conclusions. “All right. If I had to guess at his reasons, I’d say mainly pride.”

  “Pride?”

  Bri nodded. “He doesn’t want to admit there’s a murderer right under his nose. My coven refused to be corralled away from the truth like a bunch of mindless sheep. So the shepherd called the wolves on us. Things are out of his control. His Guild burned down, and his coven wants someone to blame. Given my history, I’m a convenient target.”

  The Council puffed up at that, mumbling to each other behind their hands. They didn’t seem too impressed with her take on things, but a few she recognized from her last visit to the Arcanum studied her in silence. One man, to her father’s left, scribbled down notes and thoughtfully twirled one corner of his dark moustache. “Mr. Wanely?” he said, “Do you care to give us your testimony?”

  Bri lifted her eyes from the mesmerizing flame of her truth candle and twisted on the stool to glance over her right shoulder.

  Gawain was sitting on the first row of benches behind her. She was shocked she hadn’t noticed him, but she made up for that error by boring through him with her eyes as he stepped forward. He’d had time to change into another crisply-pressed brown uniform, which he’d probably worn to try and look official, but it was just all wrong against the old-world décor and the somber blacks and blues that most of the Zyne in the chamber wore. He’d re-bandaged his nose too. He lit his own truth candle beside hers and stood on her right, keeping a wary distance.

  “My reasons for seeking out the Synod’s interference in this matter are simple. The situation did grow beyond my control. For the well-being of those I’m oath-bound to protect, I required assistance in uncovering the truth. My attempts to warn, beseech, and even bargain with Miss Spurrier and her trial coven have been met with nothing but resistance, even though I’ve suspected them at the heart of the problem for some time. It is my belief, and that of my coven, that a curse has attached itself to Briana, quite possibly her entire line and anyone associated with them. Whether intentional or not, her presence in Evergreen Cove has something to do with the fires and deaths the island has suffered.”

  Well. He’d obviously practiced that little speech.

  “Are you aware of any such curse?” the interrogator asked Bri. His question didn’t leave much wiggle room.

  “Well…” Bri’s candle flame flickered, and she bit her tongue, waiting for it to steady. She looked up from the floor and sought her father, but his face was a blank mask. There was no way to tell what he was thinking. What would shame him more: perjuring herself and getting framed for murder, or losing her family’s piece of the Legacy and getting booted out of the Zyne world forever? Wasn’t there an Option C?

  She puffed out a breath, trying to figure out a way to say it, but finally settled on just telling as much of the truth as possible. If she didn’t get out of there soon, none of this would matter anyway. A hint of premonition just beyond her reach had her stomach doing lazy rolls, and acid burning up the back of her throat. “I can’t deny that Gawain is partially right.”

  Another shudder of whispers behind her, and the Council members all looked like their seats had sprouted spikes. Gawain rocked on his heels beside her, and she could imagine his haughty smirk without the need to turn her head.

  “But it’s not a curse that’s been hunting me. It’s a demon — A Soul Eater.”

  At that, the whispers erupted into a murmur, punctuated by a few gasps. The voices grew louder when her truth flame didn’t twitch.

  Gawain paled, and his temple throbbed rhythmically.

  The Council speaker called the hall to order, then said, “It is clear you believe this to be the truth, but can you provide any proof?”

  Bri bunched her hands in her lap as she shook her head. “But I know the demon killed Earl and Geri. Both times I saw him in a vision just before.”

  The room went utterly still. Even the clouds over the glass dome seemed to freeze.

  “And why would a Soul Eater be hunting you?” the speaker asked.

  She paused only a half beat before answering. “We have a history.”

  “You’ve just been initiated,” her father said curtly.

  Bri nodded and scanned the faces of the other Council members, letting them see the truth in her eyes, not just in the candle at her feet. “I know it — the demon — from before. I’ve seen him in my regressions. He knows me.”

  The crowd waited silently while the Council discussed things amongst themselves in voices too low to decipher. Bri thought she felt the delicate shift of the energy in the room, as it slipped from judgment to sympathy. Even Gawain seemed to look on her with pity when the Council dismissed him from her side. Or she could have imagined it.

  Clarinet lady stood again. “Would you agree to share your memories so that an outside witness can vouch for your testimony on this matter?”

  “I…” Bri swallowed the thickness in her throat. She didn’t want to even touch the memories herself, much less share them. But Astrid and Kean needed her. She needed the Council’s help. “If I can choose which to share, then yes.”

  “This interrogation is meant to test Briana’s guilt in a murder allegation, not her involvement with a Dark One,” Aldric argued.

  “But if she could prove we have a Soul Eater in our midst, both issues would be resolved,” Councilor Bellini added. The other Council members agreed, and her father sat rigid in his seat, a deep frown etched into his stony features.

  Bri appreciated his effort to protect her, but she didn’t see any other way without wasting more precious time. She was at the Council’s mercy. “How does it work?”

  Clarinet lady stepped out from behind the table in answer. The only sound of her approach was the swish of her robes against the polished stone. She stopped a foot away and bowed her head slightly.

  “My name is Anika Mayberry. I am an eighth degree Oracle, and walking in others’ memories is my gift.” Close up, her eyes were a warm whiskey color, her somber expression less distant. She lifted both of her hands toward Bri’s face. “If you will permit me?”

  Bri leaned back, her breath catching. “Will it hurt?”

  “It should not.” Anika cupped Bri’s cheeks in her hands gently. Her palms were silky soft, very human feeling. Bri relaxed as Anika’s thumbs pressed over her closed eyelids. “Try to empty your mind. When you are ready, focus all your thoughts on the Soul Eater.”

  Bri forced the merry-go-round of panic inside her to steady, even though her instinct was to let all of her worries spiral through her consciousness. She recalled the most vivid and recent image first — Geri’s blood soaked body laying prone on her foyer floor. She pictured Geri’s face as she gazed into the mist and silky light from the ledge in Bri’s dream. With effort, she replayed the raspy whisper of the demon.

  Skydancer.

  She saw him standing before the wreckage of torn and maimed human flesh, as waves of blood lapped at his fiery shore. She remembered his face — the soulless cold in his eyes, the protruding bones of his cheeks as he loomed over Vivianne in the torture chamber. I know what you are, Skydancer. Do you know what I am? That blackness leaked out, and swallowed the memory until she was standing on the ledge, staring into the fathomless abyss. His face appeared again, twisted in rage.

  The golden eagle burst up to the heavens, a falling star in reverse.

  She tried not to, but as the vision of the eagle blazed through the sky, she thought of Kean and Astrid — of the three of them huddling around a lantern on Lover’s Bluff. When she thought of Astrid and Kean, she wondered where they were now. And like it or not, she saw the vision she’d tried hardest to block fr
om her mind: a fly buzzing from Eric’s slack mouth, Geri crying tears of blood, Kean’s limp, ashen body.

  No! Her control snapped. She remembered the mirror’s soft glow, beckoning her to touch. To See.

  It’s him Bri. You have to See.

  He’ll come for you — a Soul Eater.

  Do not face him alone.

  Briana’s eyes fluttered open when Anika released her. The other Oracle’s cheeks were streaked with tears as her eyes swirled from white to golden brown. Her hands trembling as she lowered them to her sides. She opened her mouth once, closed it.

  Bri shook her head, her eyes wide and imploring. She was prepared to fall to her knees and beg. It could not be all over now. Not like this. Anika had seen the mirror.

  Please. Please. Please. Bri chanted in her head, holding back a scream at the injustice.

  The collective breath of the entire chamber held, waiting for Councilor Mayberry. “She speaks the truth.”

  Those four words started a momentary frenzy. Bri’s gaze stayed riveted to Anika’s face, seeing the words that hung on the tip of her tongue. Bri willed them back with every fiber in her body.

  Please.

  Her witness wiped the wetness from her face and collected herself before saying, only loud enough that the Council could hear, “You have truly faced a Soul Eater, Skydancer.”

  Her father whipped to his feet. “That’s enough!”

  The hall fell silent.

  “It cannot be,” the fat Councilman touted. The others sat stock-still, gawking, or turned to each other in shock.

  Anika sniffed and held her head regally high as she ascended the dais and resumed her seat. She paused for a moment, considering what to tell them. Or perhaps just how.

  Bri’s heart froze in dread. Her secret. She’d failed. She’d failed them all. Again.

  Anika’s gaze swiveled to hers and they locked together. A swirl of uncertainty clouded the other Oracle’s eyes.