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

by McCaffrey-Winner

  “Foxbane,” Hana said in a growl. She looked at the man. “Do you hate me?”

  Before the man could respond or Krea ask what she meant, Hana ran out of the garden and back into the marble hallway.

  Krea searched for something to say to break the awkward silence that fell. “We were washing dishes earlier,” she ventured lamely. “I think she’s tired.”

  The short man shook his head in disagreement and gestured for Krea to follow him. Dutifully, with one regretful look toward the door Hana had disappeared through, Krea followed.

  They stopped in front of a plot of roses. Reverently the short man knelt toward the nearest bush, pulled a small set of shears from one of his pockets and gently snipped off a blooming rose. He held the stalk out to Krea who took it and sniffed the rose appreciatively.

  “Thank — Ow!” Krea cried as the man grabbed her hand holding the rose and crushed her fingers against the thorns. “Why did you do that?” she said. “Was I being mean? Did I upset —”

  The man shook his head quickly and pointed back toward the red foxbane plants. He gestured to the rose, mimed sniffing it, mimed jerking at the pain of the thorns just as Krea had done and then he pointed back to the foxbane.

  “Oh!” Krea said, suddenly enlightened. “The foxbane hurts her like the thorns of a rose?”

  The short man gave her a brief smile, nodded, then shook his head. He pointed toward the blue patch of wyvern flowers, smiled again and then brought up his hands to cradle his head against them, like he was sleeping peacefully.

  “What?” Krea said, confused. “The foxbane is for Hana like the wyvern’s flowers were for me?” The man shook his head. Krea tried again. “They say that wyverns come to the flowers when they die.” The man gave her a sharp look, encouraging her to continue. “Are the foxbane like the wyvern flowers?” The man cocked his head: that was part of the answer. “Wyverns come to the flowers when they’re dying, to find a new twin soul,” Krea said now. She surprised herself with that — had Wymarc come in hope of finding Krea? Or someone like her?

  The short man nodded and gestured for her to go on.

  “But the foxbane… it’s like wolfsbane, isn’t it?” Krea said. “Something to keep foxes away?”

  The man shook his head and pointed to Krea, making a “get on with it” motion.

  “Not foxes?” Krea guessed. The man nodded and pointed toward the door where Hana had fled. “Twin soul foxes?”

  The man wagged a hand from side to side: Krea was half-right.

  “I’m sorry,” she apologized, “I don’t know all the names of the twin souls.”

  The man smiled at her, moved his wheelbarrow to one side and gestured for her to follow him. Puzzled, Krea followed.

  They went back through the double doors. Outside the dining hall, the man raised a finger, telling Krea to wait and walked in.

  “Terric!” Sybil’s voice cried. “Are you coming to bring me more food? No?” Her voice grew quieter and Krea couldn’t hear what was said until Krea heard Sybil call, “So you’re going to show her? Does that mean you like her?” Krea couldn’t hear an answer but heard Sybil say, “The two were good with the dishes, worked out things just right between them.” A moment later, Sybil finished, “And a good day to you, Master Terric!”

  Terric appeared around the corner, smiled to Krea, and indicated that she should follow him. They continued down the long hallway into the main corridor — the one that led to the gods — went down a ways and turned to the right down a hallway Krea didn’t remember and went about halfway down without seeing any doors on either side until they were in front of a set of ornately carved doors in a frame surrounded with various creatures, and scenes.

  The man smiled at her, opened one of the doors and gestured for her to go inside.

  It was a library. The man led her to one section, pulled out a book, and handed it to her. He guided her to a table and sat with the book, gesturing for her to sit beside him. The man smiled at her as he opened the book, turned through several pages — all lined with illustrations that seemed so real that they appeared to be moving — she spotted one page with the image of a wyvern on it but Terric flipped past it until he found the page he wanted.

  “Kitsune?” Krea said as she read the title. Terric nodded and gestured for her to read the page, rising from his chair, and moving toward the door. Krea got the impression that he was heading back to the garden and his work.

  “Thank you for everything,” she called to him as he turned back to close the doors. “Shall I come find you when I’m done?”

  Terric raised an eyebrow at her and smiled ambiguously, raising a hand to wave his fingers in farewell. Krea waved back and then she was alone with the book.

  Kitsune were fox-tailed twin souls. They were often found around rice fields. Krea had heard of rice but didn’t know where it came from. It seemed that some kitsune were good with winds and kept the rice fields from flood and destruction. The page also indicated that some kitsune were less pleasant and could demand sacrifices — perhaps that was what had happened to Hana?

  Krea turned the book to the passage on wyverns and read about them for comparison. She had only just started when the door opened and Lyric stepped in.

  “What are you doing here?” Lyric demanded.

  “Terric brought me here,” Krea told her, looking up from her book.

  “Terric?”

  “The gardener,” Krea explained.

  “A gardener? And what right does he have to send you to the library?” Lyric said with a sniff. “Why aren’t you working?”

  “I’m done,” Krea said.

  “If you get in trouble, I won’t be responsible,” Lyric told her nastily, moving to the back of the library.

  “I can take care of myself,” Krea said, rising from her chair, and bringing the book back to where Terric had found it. She would have preferred to stay there, reading, but the emotions radiating off of Lyric were too distracting.

  She closed the door silently and stood outside for a moment, wondering what to do next. With a smile, she turned and went back to the main corridor.

  Sybil had said to wander. And Krea wanted to wander to the front doors, or any doors that would lead to the outside. After her encounter with Lyric, Krea wanted some fresh air.

  Chapter Six: The Bite

  Krea had nearly given up in her search when a head peered out from a door and turned her way. It was Hana.

  “I’m going outside,” Krea said, when she saw her, “do you want to come?”

  Hana’s eyes widened and she shook her head. “It will be freezing outside.”

  “We don’t have to stay out for long,” Krea told her, moving to grab the other’s arm. “Come on, it’ll be an adventure!”

  “I don’t like adventures,” Hana said. She glanced back toward the room she’d been in. “I prefer knitting.”

  “Knit when we get back,” Krea told her. She smiled at the dark woman, adding, “If you want, I’ll teach you redwork.”

  Hana gave her a blank look which gave Krea the chance to tug her along behind her. They opened many doors, found many locked doors, and finally came to the end of the hallway where there were a set of double doors.

  “This is not where the gods are,” Krea said, pushing open the doors, “so this must be…”

  She stopped as a cold breeze curled around her and her breath froze in her lungs. With a laugh, Krea pulled Hana along with her and the doors closed loudly.

  “... outside!” Krea finished, turning to Hana and giving her a huge smile.

  Hana took one startled look at the snow piled up around them, the fiercely brilliant sun, felt the harsh wind biting at them… and turned into a four-legged black creature that stood as high as Krea’s hips.

  “You’re beautiful!” Krea said to her friend in her kitsune form. “I wish I could —”
and Krea stopped, feeling suddenly very odd.

  It’s good to get out! Wymarc said happily.

  And Krea Wymarc leapt into the skies, beating rapidly to climb into the cool air surrounding them. Below them, Krea heard a howl and looked down to see a black shape looking up at them with brilliant green eyes. Before Wymarc could react, Krea dove and reached with her legs to grab the fox form, beating her wings mightily to lift them up into the air.

  “Isn’t this great?” Krea cried to her friend. Below her, firmly held in her feet, the black fox howled. Krea got the sinking feeling that perhaps the black fox didn’t like flying and, repentantly, glided back to the ground, depositing the fox gently.

  A moment later she was human again, reaching down to cuddle the fox in her arms.

  No! Wymarc’s voice cried in Krea’s head just before the fox opened its mouth wide and bit Krea’s hand, hard. Krea pulled her hand back in surprise and pain just as the fox turned back into Hana who looked in horror at Krea’s injuries.

  “I’m sorry,” Hana cried. “I didn’t mean to! You scared me!”

  “It’s my fault,” Krea said, cradling her injured hand. “I should have read the whole section on kitsune.”

  The doors opened and Avice and Terric rushed out, followed by Sybil and Lyric.

  “What is going on here?” Avice shouted, glancing accusingly from Hana to Krea. Her eyes narrowed and she said to Krea, “What did you do to her?”

  “She bit me,” Krea said, holding out her hand as evidence.

  “She was provoked,” Avice said flatly. “What did you do?”

  “I only took her flying when she transformed,” Krea said defensively. “I wanted her to see —”

  “You don’t know anything, do you?” Avice shouted at her. “Whyever did you torment her?”

  “Torment?” Krea repeated blankly. She glanced to Hana. “I’m sorry, I thought you’d like it!”

  “You never take a kitsune from the ground!” Avice scolded. She jerked her head toward the doors. “Now get inside, both of you!”

  #

  Krea was sent to the infirmary on her own while Avice consoled Hana. Lyric glared at Krea before she tossed her head and stalked off in disgust.

  Krea was halfway down the corridor to the dining hall when she realized that she didn’t know where the infirmary was. Was that the room she’d first woken in? It hardly seemed like it, having only a bed, a table, and a chair. The infirmary must be nearby, Krea guessed and so, she turned around, tracing her steps back to where she remembered her room to be.

  When she tried the door, she found it was locked. She glanced down the hall behind her and realized that she’d left a trail of blood, little red dots on the clear white marble. Will I have to clean it all up? she wondered miserably.

  She tried the next door and the next, growing more frantic with each failed attempt. Finally, she moved to the opposite side of the corridor, trying the door that she thought was opposite the room she had slept in.

  “Oh, about time!” Avice cried as she spotted Krea entering the well-appointed room. She stabbed a hand toward the counter beside her. “Come here! I can’t imagine why you dawdled so much —”

  “Please, I didn’t know where the infirmary was,” Krea confessed miserably.

  “Well, why didn’t you say so?” Avice demanded irritably. She motioned Krea to put her hand on the counter, continuing, “What did you think I’d intended? That you go wandering around lost and miserable?” Before Krea could respond, Avice continued, “Lyric told me that she’d given you an orientation.”

  “She showed me where the room of the gods was located,” Krea said.

  “Did she, now?” Avice asked in a suddenly different tone of voice. She looked down to examine Krea’s torn hand, ran her fingers over it, and slipped them into her mouth with a smile. “Fresh blood,” she cried. “Nothing like it!”

  Aghast, Krea looked down at her hand — and all the wounds were gone. So was the blood.

  “The blood you dripped outside is gone, too,” Avice told her in a kindly voice. “So you needn’t worry about cleaning it.”

  “How did you —?” Krea asked, startled.

  Avice grinned at her. “I’ve heard the question a time or two,” she told Krea. She took her fingers from her mouth, put her hand to her side and looked at Krea consideringly. “Terric told me that he’d taken you to the library —”

  “It’s beautiful,” Krea cried, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “I’ve never seen so many books!”

  “Of course not,” Avice replied. “Where did you come from?” She waved her other hand dismissively. “Never mind, it won’t have a library anywhere near as good as ours.”

  Krea nodded in firm agreement.

  “So you’ve seen the library, why didn’t you learn —?” Avice cut herself off, her look going thoughtful. “You’re twinned with Wymarc, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, my lady,” Krea told her with a quick curtsy.

  “What sort of foolishness did she use on you?” Avice asked, although from her expression, she was half-talking to herself. “Wyvern flowers, right?”

  “Yes, there was a field near to my house,” Krea said.

  “Near your house!” Avice cried in surprise. “What fool would plant a field of wyvern flowers near their house!”

  “I think my father did father,” Krea said in a small voice. “But I do not know for sure. I think it was because my mother liked them.”

  “And was your mother a wyvern, too?”

  “No,” Krea said. “She was human.” She paused, frowning. “I think.”

  “Not, perhaps, as much as you should,” Avice said acerbically. She raised an eyebrow at Krea. “And who was your father?”

  “Rabel Zebala,” Krea said.

  “Rabel!” Avice cried in delight. She raced around the counter and grabbed Krea in her arms, giving her a huge hug. “Why didn’t you say so? How is the old scoundrel? Still working deals with Ophidian, is he?”

  “What?” Krea said in confusion. “Ophidian spoke to me, not my father.”

  “Oh, don’t you believe it, child!” Avice chortled. “Rabel has cheated the Ferryman more than once.” She glanced up to the ceiling but Krea had the impression that she was looking even further away. “Knowing this, I’ve no doubt he’ll be offered some new temptation by Ophidian again, shortly.” She cocked her head toward Krea. “How old is your father?”

  “Very old,” Krea said, feeling miserable. “He was feeble and I was supposed to marry his apprentice. Angus was going to look after us when father got old —”

  “And what happened? How come you’re here and not married?”

  “I gave comfort to a wyvern,” Krea said. “I took her offer —”

  “Not hers, I’m sure,” Avice interjected. “That’d be Annora, always looking out for her mate.” She snorted. “So what happened then?”

  “Jarin —”

  “Jarin!” Avice exclaimed. “I hadn’t realized he was involved in all this!” To herself she added, “Of course, Annora Wymarc were probably sent by Ophidian to make sure the fool didn’t do anything too terrible.” She raised her eyes to the ceiling once more and brought them back to Krea. “And then what happened?”

  “Jarin stole the prince’s jewels,” Krea said. “And he found me when I lost one of my fingers —”

  “You lost a finger?” Avice interjected. Krea gave her a hasty nod. “Go on, go on! I can’t wait to hear this story!”

  “And he told me that I was twice sworn, and I had to make a choice,” Krea said.

  “He was right enough there, surprisingly,” Avice agreed. She saw Krea’s look and added, “I’m surprised he had that much sense.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Not his fault, really, he was frozen in the ice,” Avice said, waving a hand in the air. She frown
ed at Krea. “He was frozen there until just a few years ago when Ophidian sent someone to find him.”

  “Wymarc?” Krea guessed.

  “Not quite,” Avice said. She waved a hand, pointing outside the house. “Somewhere out there is a frozen god who will be quite irritated with Ophidian when he’s freed.” She chuckled, then nodded to Krea. “So, child, tell me the rest of your story.”

  “The king and the prince sent a mob after us —”

  “Us or Jarin?”

  Krea shrugged. “And then Ibb and Angus caught up with us —”

  “Angus?”

  “My fiance, my father’s apprentice,” Krea explained.

  “Ibb lives in Kingsford, so you must be from there,” Avice said, nodding to herself. “Go on.”

  “Ibb told us that the only way to complete the transformation was for Angus to stab me with a hatpin —”

  “Is that the same hatpin we found in your room?” Avice interrupted.

  “You found it?” Krea cried eagerly, twisting her head in a quick scan of the room, hoping to see it.

  “You didn’t get it?” Avice asked, her brows crashing down. “That’s odd,” she said in a lower voice. “So you had your fiance stab you with a hatpin — it had to belong to someone special —”

  “My mother,” Krea said in agreement.

  “Bet it hurt all the same,” Avice murmured.

  “It did,” Krea agreed. “And then I was dead and then —”

  “Wymarc bawled at you, told you to breathe, and you completed the transformation into a wyvern,” Avice concluded. She eyed Krea critically. “Must be a pretty wyvern, there are not many made in winter.”

  “And with my complexion,” Krea agreed, dropping her eyes from the other woman.

  “There’s nothing wrong with your complexion, my dear,” Avice told her kindly. “You will no doubt meet many odder people here than you.” She nodded her head briskly in confirmation. “And, because of who you are, you will doubtless treat them better than you were treated.”

  “Of course!” Krea said, surprised that anyone could think otherwise. “It’s not the skin or the shape that makes a person.”