Twin Soul Series Omnibus 1: Books 1-5 (Twin Soul Series Book Sets)

by McCaffrey-Winner

  “Angus,” Krea said. She saw his eyebrows rise and explained, “He’s my father’s apprentice.”

  “And what is he to you?”

  “We’re betrothed,” Krea said. She turned from her head, looking around in the dark night, wondering where Angus was and what he was thinking at that very moment.

  “And you don’t want him,” Jarin guessed. Krea snapped her head back, her flashing eyes meeting his. Her anger ebbed as she noticed a look of … pity? … fear? … coming from him. He gestured for her to answer.

  “I... my father is getting old, I can’t take care of him by myself,” Krea found herself stammering. “Angus is a good man.”

  “Whom you don’t want to marry,” Jarin said. Before she could respond, he added, “When is the date?”

  “We’re supposed to be married today,” Krea admitted. Again, she darted her head around, peering toward where the Temple might be, wondering if Angus was waiting for her there.

  “Ah!” Jarin said, nodding to himself. Krea looked back to him. He leaned down to bring his eyes level to Krea’s. “You are in a very grave dilemma: you are torn between two oaths.” He shook his head. “And you must choose one before the sun sets this evening.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “You’ll die,” Jarin said. “Horribly.”

  “Like when I lost my finger?” Krea asked.

  “Much, much worse,” Jarin told her. “I’ve only seen one person refuse the call.” His lips tightened into a thin line and he looked away from her to some distant memory before he turned back. “That is more than I ever want to see.”

  “The woman,” Krea asked, “was she special to you?”

  “She was half of special,” Jarin told her. Krea gave him a questioning look. Jarin sighed. “What do you know of the twin souls?”

  “Twin souls?”

  “Some bodies are only big enough for one soul,” Jarin said, giving Krea a pitying look. He pointed a finger at himself. “I am not.” Krea’s eyes widened. “Annora was not.”

  “Two souls in one body?”

  “Which is why there was only a woman’s body left behind,” Jarin said. His eyes grew wistful. “Oh, Annora, you saved her!”

  “How?” Krea asked bluntly. “You said she was dead.”

  “She is,” Jarin agreed, further confusing Krea. She arched a brow at him half in inquiry, half in demand for answers. “One soul is dead.” He told her. “But the other lives on in you.”

  “In me?”

  Jarin moved close to her, grabbed the fabric of her sleeve. “Slide it back, I want to look.”

  Krea made a face and slid the sleeve of her blouse up.

  Jarin’s touch on her skin made her jump. It didn’t burn but it felt... like nothing she’d ever felt before. She looked at the lines his fingers traced on her skin. The lines grew brighter, fading slightly when his fingers left them but remaining visible where before they were not.

  “You must be in great pain,” Jarin said with much feeling in his voice. “Wymarc, I am so sorry.”

  Krea pulled away from him, angrily rolling her sleeve back down. She met resistance where the lines on her skin tugged at the fabric.

  “If you choose your new life, you will save more than one soul,” Jarin told her with feeling.

  “If I choose as you wish, my father will die,” Krea told him.

  “And if you don’t choose, all will die,” Jarin warned. He held up his hand. “And now that I’ve told you, my jewels, please?”

  “How do I know I can trust you?” Krea replied. “You’re nothing but a common thief.”

  “I have already told you that is not so,” Jarin said. He gestured toward her arm. “And you saw the markings yourself.”

  “If you’re not a common thief, then what are you?” Krea demanded. “And why did the wyvern carry you —” Krea broke off, something about his words did not match what she was imagining. Before she could resume, Jarin broke into a long, loud laugh.

  “Carry me?” he chuckled, bending over and pointing at her. “Carry me?”

  “You’re small enough!”

  “Small enough!” Jarin’s laughter redoubled and he was laughing so hard he was nearly bent in half. “Annora could never carry me! Not in all her golden glory.”

  “So you’re a wyvern?”

  “No,” Jarin snorted. “Don’t insult me.”

  “Then what are you?” Krea demanded.

  “I’m nothing as modest as a wyvern,” Jarin told her.

  “So —”

  Jarin stopped her with a raised hand, rising to his full height once more. “That is all I’m willing to say where other ears might hear.”

  “But —”

  “Just know that I am not a wyvern and ask about it no more,” Jarin told her.

  “So what you are some strange thief,” Krea declared.

  “Not a thief,” Jarin told her. “I merely got my just amends for the harm that the King and his lackeys caused me and my friends.”

  “Alms for the dead?” Krea guessed.

  “Something like that,” Jarin agreed. His lips twitched. “And a little extra for pain and suffering.”

  The snow was coming down heavily now. Krea saw that it did not land on Jarin but it was already covering the ground. She glanced at her clothes. They were wet — like she’d been in the rain. She watched one snowflake falling toward her and jumped when it melted into a droplet of water.

  “We’re melting the snow,” Krea said in awe.

  “Yes, we are creatures of fire,” Jarin agreed. “It is part of both of us. Twin souls burn brightly.”

  Chapter Fifteen: The Edge

  “Krea!” a voice called from the distance, muffled by the snowfall.

  “Angus?” Krea replied, turning toward the voice. Angus came stomping toward her, broke into a run to close the distance and stopped dead just short of her arms. Behind him was Ibb, who seemed to be purposely slowly his strides. Angus looked at Jarin. “Who is this?”

  “Who are you?” Jarin demanded in return.

  “I’m Angus,” the apprentice said, drawing himself up to his full height. Jarin’s lips twitched as it became apparent that Angus’ height was half a head shorter than his. Angus dismissed Jarin with a glare and turned back to Krea. “Where is your dress? What happened? Your father and I have been searching all over for you.” His eyes narrowed as a thought came to him and he turned back to Jarin. “You’re the thief they’ve been talking about.” To Krea he said, “Grab him! There’s a reward!”

  Jarin ignored Angus completely “You’re Ibb? I have heard about you!” Jarin in surprise. He pointed to Krea. “Do you know her?”

  “Yes,” the two said in unison.

  “What does she know?” Ibb said to Jarin when they recovered from their surprise. To the thief, he added, “I heard from my man that she missed the meeting just as I’d finished going through the old scrolls.”

  “How did you find me?” Krea asked.

  “It’s a talent of mine,” Ibb told her, then signaled to Angus, “I brought him. He needs to know what is happening.”

  “Know about what?” Angus said, taking a step closer to Krea and further from Ibb. Krea gave him a sad look — she hadn’t realized that Angus was one of those who feared the gentle mechanical.

  “What old scrolls?” Krea said to Ibb.

  “He’s the one you’ve promised to wed?” Jarin asked Krea. Angus threw him a dirty look even as Krea nodded in confirmation.

  “The scrolls about the twice sworn,” Ibb said to Krea.

  “Twice sworn?” Krea asked.

  “There’s no time to explain,” Ibb said. He waved at them. “You need to flee. They’re going to find you!”

  “Who?” Krea asked.

  “How?” Jarin demanded.

  A
howl rent the night and was answered by a chorus of voices.

  “The king’s men!” Ibb said. “And there’s a reward for both of you — dead or alive!”

  “What?” Angus bellowed. He waved at Krea. “Is that why you’re dressed as a boy?”

  “How?” Jarin said to Ibb, ignoring Angus entirely.

  Ibb answered by turning to Angus. “They found the woman’s body.” He pointed to Krea. “They’re calling her a witch and him her familiar... and the both of them thieves!” He made a shooing gesture. “Run!”

  As they moved off, Ibb called, “And Krea? If you make the choice, your love must kill you! Stab you through the heart!” Krea stumbled as the words hit her ears. She paused to turn back to the mechanical man but he gestured her to flee. “Go!”

  “Where?” Angus bellowed. Jarin grabbed Krea’s arm and dragged her away before she could hear Ibb’s response. She turned back to see Angus moving toward the growing mob. “Go!” he called. “I’ll find you!”

  She spotted Ibb darting toward a hiding spot — the mechanical would be a natural target for the mob.

  Krea felt a stab of pain in her side as they ran away, upwards, to the cliff on the far side of the docks. Her lungs were burning, her chest heaving in pain.

  “They’ll see us!” she said to Jarin as they broke out from the last of the buildings and into the clear, snow-covered hillside.

  “Let them!”

  “But they’ll kill us!”

  “You’re dying already,” he told her. “All that matters is how.”

  He stopped and glanced around. Krea looked around with him. They were at the very edge of the cliff, a good fifty feet from the raging sea below them. Jagged water broke over the rocks below. For Krea, the sight was strangely compelling.

  “My father will die,” Krea said. “He’ll die because of me, because I wouldn’t marry Angus.”

  “All things die,” Jarin told her. “And the Ferryman will come and life will begin anew.”

  Krea gave him a hard look which he returned with equal measure.

  “You have a choice,” he told her. “A hard one either way.” Angry shouts came from below and Jarin pointed toward the approaching crowd.

  “We could still run away,” Krea said, pointing toward the other side of the hill.

  “No, Krea, you can’t,” Jarin told her. He pointed to the sun. “Your hour has come.”

  “You knew this would happen,” Krea said.

  Jarin nodded. “The moment I found her body, I knew there would be a hard choice.”

  “You found her body!”

  “I had to know,” Jarin said. “Others needed to —” he broke off. “I have said too much.”

  A rustling through the bushes startled them. It was Angus.

  “Quickly!” he called. “I’ve drawn them off; we can escape down the other side!”

  “There is no escape,” Jarin said, shaking his head sadly. “Oaths were made.”

  Angus’ eyes grew wide with understanding. He moved toward Krea. “Marry me!” he told her. “Marry me and I’ll tell them that it was not your fault. That, as your husband, I made you —”

  Krea felt her heart melt at his kindness. And then pain doubled her over and she shrieked in agony.

  “It’s happening,” Jarin said, moving toward the blacksmith’s apprentice. “She is changing.”

  “Changing?”

  “She took two oaths, Angus,” Jarin told him. “One to honor the fallen and the other to honor her father.” He shook his head sadly. “She must choose one or die.”

  “I’ll die either way,” Krea said, raising her head to look at them. Her face was pale, her red eyes burnt with an inner brightness. She looked to Angus. “If I become your wife — even if we live — I will die with my vows.” And she turned to Jarin. “And if I honor the fallen, I’ll — what will become of me?”

  “You’ll live,” Jarin told her with great feeling. He looked to Angus. “She’ll live for many lifetimes, touch the minds of the gods themselves.”

  “I’ve already seen the eyes of one god,” Krea said in a low voice. Angus’ eyes widened. Jarin jerked his head around to meet her gaze. “Ophidian.”

  “The god of choices,” Angus breathed in awe. He looked at Krea with wide eyes. “What choice have you made?”

  I have a choice! Krea thought, her heart leaping. I have a choice!

  “It can only be yours,” Jarin told her. He glanced to Angus. “No one can force her.”

  Krea’s heart pounded in her chest as time seemed to stop. Either way, someone would die. Who would it be? That was her choice. Her only choice.

  Choose life. Krea thought. Time lurched forward once more and her heart slowed. She could hear the outraged sounds of the villagers in the distance.

  Krea turned to Jarin, pulling the bag of jewels from her pocket. “I’ll give you half if you give me my hatpin.”

  “I could take it all,” Jarin said. He gestured toward the town and the mob rushing towards them. “I’ll be lost in the shadows before they know it.”

  “No,” Krea said. Jarin jerked in surprise. “You want me to change. To honor the fallen. This is the deal.”

  “The hatpin?” Jarin asked.

  “It was your mother’s, wasn’t it?” Angus said.

  “Here,” Krea said, pouring half the jewels from the purse into Angus’ hand. To her surprise Jarin didn’t even flinch, and instead gave a nod of approval. He was far more interested in Angus’s reaction. “Hide this. Take care of father.”

  “I don’t need this, and you can’t buy me,” Angus told her, pushing her hand away and shooting a look toward Jarin. “Your father is now my father.”

  Krea shook her head. “I can’t marry you, Angus,” she told him, surprised at the tears that suddenly sprang in her eyes. She pulled up her sleeves and showed him the markings on her arms. Markings that were transforming into white scales even as they watched.

  “You’ve made your decision,” Jarin said in an approving tone. “Good. I will find you, after.” He placed the hatpin in Krea’s outstretched hand and took the bag now only half-full of jewels. He turned to Angus. “You heard Ibb, are you willing to do your part?”

  “My part?” Angus repeated. He looked to Krea who pressed the jewels on him once more. He pocketed them with a frown. She passed him the hatpin.

  “Do this,” she said, “pierce my heart, free me from my vow, and you save our father.”

  “I can’t!”

  “Do it and you save more than one life!” Krea told him, pressing the hatpin into his hand.

  “You’re burning!” Angus cried, as he caught sight of her clothes. “Your clothes are on fire!”

  “Stop!” a guardsman ordered. “Stop in the name of the King!”

  “Save my father,” Krea begged, moving toward the man who would marry her.

  With a sob, Angus thrust the hatpin into her heart. Blood burst forth and rained down the hatpin, covering his hands, drenching his sleeve. Tears poured down his face as the one girl he’d ever loved fell, lifeless, backwards over the cliff.

  Krea felt the pain, felt the blood rushing out of her, felt herself falling. She was on fire. She was burning. She was dying.

  Here child! A voice called out to her. Take this!

  Krea reached to find something bright, shining, and hot inside herself. Something she’d never felt before. Something that felt wrong and right at the same time.

  And then she was no more.

  With a loud cry she was reborn, alive, fiery, proud, and glowing. She stretched her arms out — and flew!

  The snow melted upon her and covered her scales with their soft coldness. She reveled in the feeling, in the flying, soaring up over the mob of humans staring blankly at her from the cliff’s edge.

  She was all clad in white, her sca
les brilliant in the night sky. Her heart, torn no longer but beating with the strength of two souls, pounded within her and she roared with triumph — only to stop as she saw one brawny man move toward her, arms outstretched, a gleaming hatpin in his hand glowing red.

  He fell to his knees, his eyes never leaving her. Angus!

  The winter wyvern screeched in triumph.

  And soared into the heavens.

  Cloud Conqueror

  Book 2

  Twin Soul series

  Chapter One: The Airship Spite

  “Strangest ship I’ve ever seen!” someone swore in the crowd nearby. The comment, however rude, was not without merit. The ship had a hull but no rudder, a bowsprit but no masts.

  “‘Tis not a ship, fool! It’s an airship!”

  “An airship?”

  “It flies in the clouds!”

  “There are no masts, only those large balloons!” There were ten large balloons straining at their bonds to the ship, trying to flee into the sky above, arranged into two rows of four with the final two perched atop.

  “They lift the ship into the sky!”

  “Shh, the Queen approaches!”

  Queen Arivik, accompanied by Crown Prince Nestor, walked gingerly down the steps and up the gantry set by the prow of the strange vessel. Both dressed in a expensive green silk and wore crowns made of white coral, both rare materials said to have been gifts given by Ametza, their patron goddess.

  Captain Ford, as befit his station, walked three steps behind the last noble, even if it was his ship in the first place.

  #

  “You’ll be getting the most powerful ship ever!” the first minister, Mannevy, had told him.

  “I’ll be losing my livelihood,” Ford had replied grumpily.

  “You’ll be a King’s man!”

  “I already am a King’s man!” Ford replied. “How many pirates have I brought to his throne, how many ships have I sunk, all under his letter of marque?”

  “And that’s why the King chose you for this!” Mannevy replied as he adjusted his monocle.

  Ford had known enough not to protest too wildly: money had changed hands: Captain Ford had changed coats — although he much preferred the functional nautical garb to this… this affront to all his senses. Still, he wore the feathered cockade as required, worked his way around managing the long plumage on his blue jacket — and the gold braid on his sleeves was more rank than he’d ever imagined.