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

by McCaffrey-Winner

  “With garlic, it’s good with beef,” Krea said.

  “Ugh!” Lyric said. Krea looked at her. “Beef! Chicken! Raw fish!” She munched pointedly on a carrot, her disgust evident. “How can you eat living things and hope to live forever?”

  Krea considered this question while eating yet another of the marvelous morsels. Finally, she said, “I don’t know. I never wanted to live forever.”

  “The wyvern is wasted on you,” Lyric said with a snarl. She rose from her place and moved away, leaving her tray. “I can’t eat here.”

  After she left, Sybil picked up her tray and glanced at it thoughtfully. “She’s not likely to live forever if she doesn’t eat enough to keep soul in body.”

  “It will be a long while before she faces the Ferryman and Kalan’s decree is met,” an old man’s voice replied. They all glanced up. It was the old man once more.

  “Ah, Nevik,” Sybil said, “I would expect no less from a servant of Hansa.”

  “You’re welcome,” Nevik said with a low bow. “My Lord said that it would be my fate to see Kalan served.” His gaze settled on Krea disturbingly.

  “Kalan?” Krea said, looking to Sybil.

  “The god of justice,” Sybil explained.

  “Is he a little boy?” Krea asked, recalling a dim memory.

  “No,” Sybil said, “we call him Aron here, he is the god of judgement.”

  “What’s the difference?” Krea asked.

  “Aron works with Terric and Avice,” Sybil said. “Kalan works alone.”

  “Aron is the god of judgement,” Krea said. She frowned. “Terric and Avice are gods, too?”

  “The gods of death and life,” Sybil said.

  “Terric is a gardener!” Krea said.

  Sybil nodded. “He is death to plants, life to us.”

  “So he is just death to plants?” Krea asked hopefully.

  Sybil shook her head. “Although only to some does he show his true face.”

  “People are dying all the time,” Hana said. “How could he have any time for the garden?”

  “He’s a god,” Sybil said. “Time does not control him.”

  “Do people stay here long?” Hana asked, glancing around at the mostly empty dining hall.

  “No,” Sybil said. She smiled at Krea. “That is why we waited so long to clean the dishes.”

  “What is the longest time a person stayed here?” Krea asked.

  “The longest time is Hana,” Sybil said. “She’s been here for almost two weeks now.”

  “Judgement will come soon,” a boy’s voice piped up from right beside them. Krea turned, startled, to see the ten year-old boy she’d spotted — and forgotten — before.

  “Lord Aron,” Krea said, bowing her head.

  The boy smiled at her and shook his head. “Just Aron, please.” He waved at her and then he was gone.

  “Who was that?” Hana said, looking dazed.

  “Who?” Krea asked, looking to Sybil. “Was someone here?”

  “No, dear,” Sybil said in a sad voice, “no one at all.”

  #

  Krea insisted on showing Hana the library before they went back to their rooms. She found the book Terric had shown her and showed Hana the pages on kitsune.

  “Some are good and some are bad,” Hana read, frowning. “I hope I’m good.” She glanced at the picture. “Why is there only a white kitsune?”

  “Someone drew the picture,” Krea said, “they probably didn’t know many kitsune.”

  “That’s a new page,” a man’s deep voice spoke up. They glanced up in surprise. The speaker was Terric. He smiled at Hana. “Until you, there were no twin souled kitsune.”

  “What?” Krea said. “Why?”

  “I have been told,” Terric said, “that the kitsune have wandered their land for thousands of years looking for worthy souls.”

  Krea gasped and turned to Hana. “Did you hear? You’re the first! And you’re special!”

  Hana paled, her face looking green. She pointed at Terric in terror.

  “What?” Krea said.

  “He spoke,” Hana said when she could find words.

  “Yes,” Krea said, wondering why this would bother the girl so much.

  “Death only talks to those he will see soon,” Terric said sadly. He nodded to the two girls. “I am sorry. I have said enough.”

  And he was gone, leaving them alone in the suddenly chilly library.

  Chapter Nine: Gifts

  Krea paused at the top of the main corridor, outside the hall of the gods.

  “Don’t go in!” Hana pleaded. “You heard what Terric said!”

  “I heard,” Krea said. She stroked the doorknob on the right. It was smooth, warm, inviting. “But I’ve died once already —”

  “So have I, and I don’t want to do it again!” Hana told her. She tugged on Krea’s sleeve. “Come on, it’s late. We can do some more knitting before bed.”

  “Okay,” Krea said, allowing herself to be hauled away by the smaller girl.

  #

  “There!” Krea said, casting off the final row and holding up her scarf in triumph. “It’s done!”

  The scarf was only four feet long and four inches wide but it was Krea’s first. The yarn had been dyed in a gradient of color running from blood red to pale yellow. She stood up from her rocking chair and went over to Hana.

  “What?” Hana said, glancing up from her own knitting — a hued blue hat — to see what Krea was doing.

  “Here,” Krea said, wrapping the scarf around the other girl’s neck. “This will keep you warm the next time we go flying.”

  Hana’s eyes went wide but her hand went to the scarf. “This is lovely!” She looked stricken. “But this is your first! I can’t take it!”

  “Of course you can,” Krea said sternly. “In fact, I would be hurt if you don’t take it.”

  Hana frowned, her hand still stroking the soft fabric. Finally she glanced up to Krea. “Okay, if you insist.” She glanced down at the scarf. “It’s beautiful.”

  “And it will go with your hat,” Krea said.

  “Oh, no!” Hana said with a laugh. “I was making this hat for you!”

  “Well, hurry it up,” Krea teased, “my head is getting cold!”

  Hana smiled at her and waved toward the bathroom. “Take a bath and get clean. I’ll have it ready when you get out.” As Krea turned away, Hana added in a lower voice, “That is, if you get out.”

  Krea turned back and stuck her tongue out in a display of her exceeding maturity.

  #

  Heating the water with her magic was something that Krea delighted in doing, so it really was a long time before she got out of her bath. Krea wrapped herself in another towel and went to her room in search of clothes.

  One of the great pleasures of the House was that it provided clothing whenever Krea needed it. She and Hana had discovered that when they’d each taken their first bath — the one after cleaning all the dishes. Krea’s chest of drawers would magically contain clothes in her cut and size.

  She was surprised when she got to her room to see a beautiful blue knit hat sitting on top the dresser.

  “Oh, Hana, it’s wonderful!” Krea cried, putting it on before searching for any other clothing. “It fits perfectly! I love it!” Krea pranced in front of the mirror, deciding that the range of shades were perfect for a winter look. It was only then that she realized that her mother’s hatpin, which had been on the dresser, was missing. It had been right where Hana had left the knit hat. “Hana?” Silence. Krea dressed quickly and rushed out of her bedroom.

  The living room was empty.

  “Hana?” Krea called, heading back to Hana’s room. The door was shut. Krea knocked on it lightly. “Hana? The hat is beautiful!”

  Silence. Kr
ea’s heart pounded heavily in her chest, a sense of dread overwhelming her.

  “Hana?” Krea called again. She tried the knob. It was locked. “Hana, are you okay? I’m worried, please talk to me.”

  Nothing.

  “Hana,” Krea said firmly, “I’m coming in.” She twisted the locked knob, pushed against the door and grunted. Nothing. Krea pounded on the door. “Hana, Hana!” No response, not even a noise. Frantic, Krea grabbed the knob and pushed. “Open, damn you!”

  Nothing happened. Krea took a deep breath, collected her thoughts… and closed her eyes. She knew how doorknobs were made, how the locks worked. She thought of the tongue that stuck in the door jamb.

  Melt, Krea thought, imagining the tongue in the door jamb slowly turning bright white with heat, melting, flowing…. Krea pushed the door open, ignoring the white hot metal dripping to the ground.

  “Hana, I’m sorry but —” Krea stopped.

  The room was empty.

  #

  Krea burst into the hallway, shouting at the top of her lungs, “Hana!”

  She raced down the hallway, toward the main corridor, frantic.

  She paused at the top of the corridor, glancing down it. Maybe Hana had gone to the dining hall? Or the library.

  Krea shook her head, turning to the double doors behind her. The hall of the gods.

  “Hana?” Krea said in a small voice, turning the knob of the door on the right. She crept inside. “Hana?”

  “Go away,” Hana said in a strangled voice. “Please, go away!”

  “Yes, Krea, go away,” Lyric’s voice echoed harshly in the huge hall.

  “No,” Krea said, moving forward with determination. Something was wrong.

  “I’ve been reading,” Lyric said. “I’ve been reading a lot, in the library.” Krea followed her voice — it was deep in the huge hall, toward the back, a place where Krea hadn’t ventured before.

  “So have I,” Krea said.

  “Hah! You! You don’t even know what to read!” Lyric said. “You would have read nothing had the gardner himself not shown you!”

  “Terric was teaching me,” Krea said, glancing from side to side — Lyric’s voice was echoing around the hall now, it was getting harder to trace it.

  “Teaching you?” Lyric taunted. “What does Death teach but how to end life?”

  “Terric is not death until he talks to you,” Krea said. Her words didn’t quite make sense to her but she knew that was right.

  Judgement is coming, Wymarc warned. Be careful, child!

  “Who told you that?” Lyric challenged.

  “Terric,” Hana said in that same tight, choked voice. “Krea, leave me! It’s my fate!”

  “No,” Krea said. “I do not abandon my friends!”

  “Friends?” Lyric sneered. “What makes you think you can be friends? You’re both here for judgement. Only one of you can live. Why do you think you ended up in the same room?”

  “So be it,” Krea said. “Hana Meiko is the first of her kind. Wymarc has lived long —”

  “What about you, child?” Lyric interjected. “Just sixteen, aren’t you?”

  “Old enough to know,” Krea said. She pinpointed Lyric. She was just around the corner. “I must see the Ferryman one day. Today will do.”

  Brave! Wymarc said approvingly. But understand, she means to take your place.

  “Does she?” Krea asked out loud.

  “Does she what?” Lyric said.

  “Do you mean to take my place?” Krea asked her.

  “Of course!” Lyric said. “Ibb lied to me. He told me that I could make myself a mechanical, that I could live forever.” She snorted bitterly. “Then I learned about the twin souls.” She chuckled. “Bound to a twin soul, I could live as long as the gods!”

  Not quite, Wymarc thought to Krea. And she cannot take you by force.

  Krea turned the corner and Lyric took a step back. She had Hana’s throat grasped in one hand, Krea’s hatpin in the other, the tip resting over Hana’s heart.

  “No!” Krea cried, lurching forward.

  “Stop!” Lyric shouted. “Make one more move and she dies.”

  “You cannot take her by force,” Krea said.

  “No, but I can kill her and make you watch,” Lyric said. “That will satisfy the gods.”

  “But you won’t be immortal,” Krea said.

  “I will be,” Lyric said with a hungry smile. “You’ll remember what I did to your friend forever.” She tensed her arm and the hatpin pushed into Hana’s skin. Krea could see a line of blood darkening Hana’s dress. Hana gasped in pain.

  “Stop!” Krea said, raising a hand imploringly.

  Lyric stopped. She gave Krea a triumphant look.

  “Freely given,” Krea said, bowing her head. “Take me.” And she moved forward resolutely.

  “Fool!” Lyric cried, pushing Hana aside and thrusting the hatpin deep into Krea’s heart.

  “Wymarc, I’m sorry,” Krea gasped as the pain overwhelmed her. “I would have liked so much to soar with you once again.”

  No! Wymarc roared in Krea’s mind.

  With a snarl of victory, Lyric pulled the hatpin out of Krea’s body. She stood back, waiting.

  It doesn’t work that way, Wymarc thought to Krea. Using Krea’s voice, she said aloud, “It doesn’t work that way.”

  “What?” Lyric said, glaring at Krea. “What did you say?”

  Krea felt her hands moving and she touched her chest.

  “I said: ‘It doesn’t work that way’,” Wymarc said again with Krea’s voice. Watch and learn, friend.

  Krea’s blood pulsed brightly as her hands — guided by Wymarc’s will — moved over the puncture that was gushing blood.

  “I accept you,” Wymarc said out loud with Krea’s voice, the sound subtly different. There was a flare of bright light and then — the hole was gone. Wymarc raised a bloody finger to Krea’s lips and sucked on it. “Tasty.”

  That’s what Avice said, Krea thought.

  “You can’t kill us,” Wymarc said to Lyric. “We will not die.”

  “You won’t,” Lyric said, her jaw clenched. “You break the rules of the gods.” She nodded. “Very well, try to stop me now.” And she plunged the hatpin into Hana’s chest where she lay, stunned on the ground.

  “Hana!” Krea cried rushing forward, dropping to push Lyric away from her friend.

  She was too late. With a harsh cry, Hana convulsed on the floor and lay still. Dead.

  A flash of light surrounded Lyric who gave a cry of triumph — and turned into a bright white kitsune.

  The kitsune howled in despair as it looked down at Hana’s body. It knelt, licked the blood on the hatpin, and licked the girls’ dead face.

  And then it disappeared, leaving the room darker.

  “Judgement has been made,” the voice of a small boy echoed in the room. He did not sound happy. “Balance has been restored.”

  “No!” Krea cried, grabbing the limp form of Hana in her arms. “No, this can’t be!” She shouted up to the empty hall, “She did nothing wrong!”

  She gathered Hana up and stood with her, turning in a circle, crying to the walls of the hall of the gods. “You cannot allow this!”

  “A life was paid,” the voice of Aron, god of judgement, said. “What would you have us do?”

  “Justice!” Krea shouted back. “I want justice!”

  “The wheels of justice grind slowly but they grind exceedingly fine.” Another voice spoke. It was a voice of steel, a deep voice.

  “Then I will be the wheels of justice!” Krea shouted to the walls. She shook Hana’s limp form in her arms. “This cannot stand! This is not justice! She didn’t deserve to die. Her kitsune did not deserve to be stolen by a murderer!”

  “You will be the voice of
justice?” the steel voice asked.

  “Yes,” Krea said. “Just bring Hana back to life, let her have her chance and I will deliver her justice.”

  Do you know what you’re saying? Wymarc cried in alarm.

  Yes, Krea told her firmly.

  I’ve never been a Voice, Wymarc said thoughtfully. A moment later, she said, You are right. This calls for justice. I accept.

  “Heard and witnessed,” Ophidian’s voice boomed out from the statue in the distance. “Krea Wymarc have sworn to Kalan, god of justice.”

  “Witnessed,” another voice called. It was Avice. She sounded pleased.

  “I agree,” Aron, god of judgement, said.

  “As do I,” the god of death, said.

  “Well played,” Ophidian said, turning his statue’s head to a distant figure: Justice. “Well played indeed.” He turned his head down to Krea Wymarc. “Well done, my heart. I accept this. You may proceed.”

  Krea felt a rush of immense power flow into her, through her and into the body she held in her arms. It wasn’t just the fire of Ophidian, it was the life of Avice, the judgement of Aron, the end of Terric, and the power of Kalan’s justice.

  Hana’s body convulsed in Krea’s arms and she gasped for air. Krea leaned down and kissed Hana’s cheek. “It’s okay,” she said, “we’re going to fix this.”

  “She killed me,” Hana sobbed. “She killed me and took me away from Meiko.”

  “I know,” Krea said. “But we’re going to find her and bring her to justice.”

  Hana looked up at her, eyes wide. Then she looked down to her chest and wailed, “Oh, your scarf! It’s all bloody!”

  “I’ll make you another,” Krea promised. She felt Wymarc’s approval glowing inside her and smiled.

  Wyvern’s Wrath

  Book 5

  Twin Soul series

  Chapter One: Find Your God

  “Can you walk?” Krea asked as she held Hana in her arms. Hana looked up at her and nodded shakily. Krea understood the other’s shakiness: it had only been moments before that each of them had been killed, in turn, by Lyric skewering their hearts with a haptin. The same hatpin that Krea had used weeks before to complete her transformation into the winter wyvern.