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

by McCaffrey-Winner

  “I’m so sorry about your scarf!” Hana repeated the words she’d said only moments before. When Lyric had stabbed her, Hana had bled on the scarf that Krea had knitted just hours before.

  “It wasn’t your fault, dear,” Wymarc said through Krea’s lips. Krea felt no surprise nor affront by Wymarc’s actions — it seemed only right. After all, Wymarc had not begrudged her the use of her wings when they were in wyvern form; Krea could hardly do less when they were in her human form. It was, Krea suspected, all part of the give and take required to be a twin soul, particularly one of Ophidian’s children.

  “Has this happened before, Wymarc?” Hana said as she tottered on her feet. Krea’s arm shot out to support her but Krea hadn’t done it — it was Wymarc once again.

  “If it has, I haven’t heard of it,” Wymarc said.

  “We should get you to cleaned up,” Krea said.

  “Krea?” Hana guessed, smiling. She grabbed Krea’s hand with hers. “I’m so sorry, I got you killed.”

  “I got you killed,” Krea said. “If it hadn’t been for Lyric —”

  “Lyric got you both killed,” Wymarc interrupted Krea testily.

  Krea quirked her eyebrows and asked Hana, “Did that make sense?”

  Hana nodded and took a few steps forward,, “I can tell which one of you is which now”

  “Are you sure you can manage, dear?” Wymarc asked.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Hana said, clenching Krea’s fist.

  “Then, before we leave,” Wymarc said, “we should let you find your god.”

  “My god?” Hana said.

  “Your god,” Wymarc agreed. She raised Krea’s free hand and waved it around the hall of the gods. “Somewhere in here is the god who accepted your sacrifice and paired you with your kitsune.”

  “Meiko,” Krea added. She felt her head nod as Wymarc relayed her understanding.

  “Being a twin soul takes some adjustment,” Wymarc said through Krea’s lips as she caught Krea’s surprise. “That is why I did not talk to you too much until now.”

  “Will I ever get a word in edgewise?” Krea though to Wymarc, half-joking.

  “That depends, dear,” Wymarc replied within Krea’s mind, “on whether you have anything interesting to say.”

  “Ugh!” Krea groaned.

  “Sixteen,” Wymarc said. “It’s been centuries since I was sixteen.”

  “We’re finding her god, Wymarc,” Krea reminded her twin soul. She turned her attention to Hana, speaking to Hana out loud, “Go on, Hana, get it over with.”

  “It’s not like she can kill you again,” Wymarc muttered in agreement. Hana shot Krea a worried look but Krea just shrugged. For once, Wymarc had said something Krea would have said.

  “She’s probably right,” Krea told her friend. “After all, it’s been centuries since she was sixteen.”

  Inside her head, Wymarc chuckled at Krea’s jab but said nothing. Krea decided that if both of them were going to use her mouth, she’d have to be careful to avoid cramping her jaw muscles.

  I’m always careful, Wymarc thought to her primly.

  “Wymarc, is that you?” a woman’s voice called from above them. “You’re wearing a different body.”

  “A tragic accident, an encounter with a flying ship murdered my Annora,” Wymarc said, bowing to the goddess above them. She raised her hand and gestured at Krea’s body. “This is Krea, my new twin soul. She is sixteen.” She pointed to Hana. “And this is her friend, Hana, once twinned to the first kitsune.”

  “We heard,” a man’s voice boomed above them. They could hear the groans of stone as it was forced to turn hastily from side to side by the god’s will. “A tragedy, truly a tragedy.”

  “I am Hissia, dear,” the goddess said to Hana. “This is my husband, Hanor.”

  “We would be honored if you let us touch you with our power,” Hanor said.

  “It won’t quite be the same, by we could give you back some of your power over air,” Hissia said.

  “I — I —” Hana stammered, glancing between the two gods looming above her.

  “Take it,” Krea and Wymarc said simultaneously. Wymarc added, as Krea was speechless in surprise, “It is a gift of the gods. The highest of honors.

  Hana curtsied to both gods. “Thank you, I accept your gift.”

  “It’s the least we can do, under the circumstances,” Hissia said, lowering her hand toward Hana. Hanor did the same and Hana bowed her head as soft white lights descended upon her from the two hands held over her.

  Hana stood upright and glowed with the brilliance, her face splitting into a huge grin. “Thank you!”

  “It was nothing,” Hanor said.

  “Nothing more than you deserve, young one,” Hissia agreed. She gestured Hana forward. “Now go, dear, and find your mother.”

  “Mother?” Hana repeated fearfully.

  “She means your mother god,” Wymarc explained. “The god of the kitsune.”

  “She doesn’t know, does she?” Hanor asked.

  “No, dear,” Hissia agreed. She bent her head to smile down at Hana. “I expect you’ll be pleased.”

  “Normally your twin soul would tell you but…,” Hanor said with a shake of his head.

  “Thank you,” Hana said, reaching to touch the hands of both gods in respect. “I shall never forget.”

  “Just go with Krea Wymarc, god-touched of Kalan, and deliver the justice that is required,” Hanor said. He nodded down to Krea Wymarc and then winked. “You, too, will have the honor of our aid.”

  “Thank you, Lord, Lady,” Krea Wymarc said with a formal bow of her head. “Our fathers thank you for your consideration.”

  “You earned it,” Hissia said, waving them on.

  Hana moved forward, now unafraid to glance up at the statues of the gods. She smiled and bobbed her head at each, wondering when one of them would react to her presence.

  Wymarc bowed to each as well and named them, aloud to Krea and Hana.

  Some Krea knew, many she’d never heard before. She glanced at the figure of Arolan who Wymarc said was Ametza’s husband, missing now for centuries.

  “As near as I can tell, Ophidian and Ametza trapped him somewhere,” Wymarc said bitterly, “sending him on a some fool errand.”

  “Gods can be trapped?” Krea said, surprised.

  “Yes,” Wymarc said. “And worse.” She shook Krea’s head. “It’s not easy being a god, as I have come to know.”

  “You?” Hana said, turning to look at Krea. “You are a god?”

  “Of course not,” Wymarc said with a chuckle, “But I understand their burdens. I have lived a long life and had many children. The world changes with time, and sometimes it is hard to catch up.

  “You have children,” Krea repeated out loud. Accusingly, she added, “You never said.”

  “Why wouldn’t I?” Wymarc said dismissively. “And,” she added with a sniff, “you never asked.”

  There wasn’t time, Krea thought to her twin soul.

  Hana raised her eyebrows and remained quiet.

  “I have many, many children,” Wymarc continued out loud. “And grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, and so on from different twin souls. ”

  Wymarc looked up at the last two statues and shook her head. “We must have passed your god, Hana,” she said. “There’s only the Sun and the —”

  “Kahlas,” Hana said, curtsying deeply, pulling her dress wide to either side as she knelt, “mother moon, I greet you.”

  “My child, I grieve for you,” the statue of Kahlas, goddess of the Moon, replied. She bent down and brushed her stone fingers through Hana’s black hair. “This should never have happened.”

  “We are oathsworn to bring justice,” Wymarc said with Krea’s voice, looking up to the serene goddess.

  “So Kala
n told me,” Kahlas replied. She smiled down at them. “There is no mystery to me,” she said, “Hansa warned me this might happen.”

  “The god of Fate warned you?” Wymarc said, shaking her head. “I thought —”

  “Surely, Wymarc, by now you must know that Fate is only possibilities,” Kahlas replied. “Hansa was never happy with surprises but he has learned to accept them.”

  “They’re untidy,” Hansa’s voice boomed through the room. “I prefer certainty.”

  “Indeed,” Kahlas agreed, her stone lips twitching up in a smile. She nodded toward Hana. “All is not lost,” she told her. She gave Hana a sad look, adding, “Yours is a great tragedy but there are seeds of a great triumph, if you will fight for them.”

  “She’ll fight,” Krea said firmly. The Moon god looked her way and nodded.

  “She certainly has fierce allies,” Kahlas said. “Wymarc, accident or not, I think you have found yourself a worthy twin.”

  Wymarc said nothing but, deep inside her, Krea could feel the wyvern’s quiet agreement.

  “She died to save me, mother Moon,” Hana said quietly. She reached for Krea’s shoulder and grabbed it firmly. “I cannot imagine a greater friend.”

  “Much damage will be done before this wrong can be righted,” Kahlas said. She nodded to Hana. “You will have to grow, my child, if you are to find justice.”

  “I can’t leave Meiko…” Hana said, her voice trailing off.

  “If you are truly bound to her, she will not leave you, either,” Kahlas said. She closed her eyes for a moment, as though in pain. “Feel for her,” she said to Hana, her eyes still closed, “and you will find her.”

  “I will find her, mother Moon,” Hana said.

  Kahlas opened her eyes again and bent down, low, to stare in Hana’s eyes. “I claim you as my child, Hana,” Kahlas said. She leaned forward and kissed Hana on the forehead. “You may call upon me in need.”

  Hana’s face broke into a huge grin and she closed her eyes, humming softly to herself, overwhelmed by her god’s gift, tears running down her cheeks.

  “Do what must be done, my child,” Kahlas said softly, rising to her full height. And then the god left the statue and it was just dead stone.

  Krea rushed to grab Hana in a hug and held her as she cried out all her pain.

  #

  Wymarc insisted that rinsing the scarf in cold water was the first step in removing the blood stain that Hana’s death had left.

  “It won’t really ever be the same,” Wymarc said out loud, “but, then again, neither will you.”

  Hana nodded. They had returned to their room and had changed clothes, using washcloths to wipe away the worst of the blood. They had found new clothes to replace their stained ones and both were extremely tired.

  “I know we are all tired but we should go to the dining hall,” Wymarc said. “Sybil will have something for you and both Terric and Avice will want to know what happened.”

  “Don’t they know already?” Hana said.

  “From your lips, dear,” Wymarc corrected, waving toward the door. “I should have said.” They started to the front door of their rooms but Wymarc stopped Krea and grabbed Hana’s arm. “This time, dears, I think we’ll take the quicker way.”

  Before Krea could react, they were standing outside the dining hall. Wymarc could feel Krea’s surprise and explained, “We can’t do that often, dear, but sometimes, particularly in this house, the thought is the deed.” Krea felt her lips quirking upwards with Wymarc’s pleasure. “And I thought we should be here just now.”

  “Wymarc? Did you bring them?” Sybil’s voice called from inside. “I’ve got something for them.”

  “Come along, dears,” Wymarc said, setting Krea to motion and using her hand to drag Hana along.

  “Is she always this pushy?” Hana asked, glancing toward Krea Wymarc with wide eyes.

  “Only when necessary, dear,” Wymarc replied, “only when necessary.”

  “Come in, come in,” Avice’s voice spoke from a nearby table. “Nevik is here with us, awaiting your words.”

  They entered just in time to see the old man leap from his chair in shock. “What? Did it happen? Did you meet your gods?”

  Krea nodded.

  “Yes,” Hana said. She smiled. “I have the honor to be claimed by Kahlas, mother Moon, and have been touhed by Hanor and Hassia.”

  Avice’s eyes widened and she glanced over to Terric who was standing beside her. He moved over to Nevik and said quietly, “Things didn’t work out quite as you expected.”

  “What?” Nevik cried, turning his head from Krea to Hana and back to Terric. “You spoke! I thought you mute.”

  “I only speak when the time has come,” Terric told him.

  Nevik’s eyes widened and he licked his lips fearfully. “The time?”

  “Your time,” Terric said. “Hansa told you that you would witness something amazing.”

  “He said I would live to see Kalan served,” Nevik said, his brows narrowing critically.

  “And then you would meet your doom,” Terric said in agreement. He glanced toward Krea Wymarc. “Do you wish to tell him?”

  “You have been waiting for this your whole life, sir?” Wymarc asked the old man respectfully. Nevik nodded. Wymarc glanced to Terric. “May I tell him the whole tale?”

  “He has lived his life for that,” Terric agreed.

  “Which is a pity, as there were so many flowers he could have smelled, sunrises he could have surveyed, so many magics missed,” Avice said, shaking her head sadly. She glanced to Nevik sympathetically, “But you were persistent and loyal, I’ll grant you that.”

  “The story begins with an airship,” Wymarc said. She recounted the tale of her twin soul’s death; how Krea had offered her life to save her; how Krea had died at the hand of her betrothed to be reborn as the winter wyvern; how they’d flown north and been rescued by Lyric; how Lyric had slain both Krea Wymarc and Hana Meiko in succession; how the gods had interceded; and how Krea had promised justice.

  Nevik turned incredulously to Krea. “You are the servant of Kalan?”

  “We are,” Wymarc replied with Krea’s voice.

  Nevik bit his lip, shook his head sadly. Then he perked up and said to Krea Wymarc, “This is the tale I lived my whole life to hear. I wish you success in your oath, that justice be served on the murderer, that the twin souls be reunited as they should.”

  “Thank you,” Krea said, bobbing her head and curtsying. Hana’s lower lip trembled and she could say nothing, looking on the old man sadly.

  “Come sir,” Terric said softly, grabbing Nevik’s arm. He pulled two gold coins from his pocket. “My son will escort you,” he said. He raised the coins. “If you close your eyes, I’ll set the payment upon them.”

  “You?” Nevik said, glancing at Terric in awe. “You are the god of death?”

  “Yes,” Terric replied, sounding neither happy nor sad, just resigned. “I am the ending,” he nodded toward his wife, “Avice is the beginning.”

  A tall, shapely man appeared beside Terric and nodded. Krea could see the resemblance. Before she could react, she felt herself in motion, her voice crying, “Bryan! It’s good to see you again!”

  Bryan, the Ferryman, glanced toward Krea. “Wymarc?” he cried, grabbing her in a big hug. “You’re not coming with me, are you?”

  “This is Krea,” Wymarc said, getting Krea to curtsy, “she’s sixteen and we’ve sworn to Kalan for justice in this one’s —” she gestured toward Hana “— name.”

  Bryan the Ferryman laughed, a huge, cheerful bellow. “Well done! Well done!” He said, pointing a finger at Wymarc. “Ophidian always said you were his best.”

  “Don’t let the others hear that,” Wymarc warned.

  “Oh, that one!” Bryan chuckled. “I think I’ll wait longer f
or him than for you.” He glanced toward Nevik. “Sir, it is my pleasure to take you to the other side.”

  Before Nevik could respond, Bryan had touched his shoulder and the two disappeared.

  “Beautiful,” Wymarc murmured in appreciation.

  Terric beamed at her, raised his hand and two gold coins appeared. He smiled and pocketed them once more. “The thing is done.”

  “I have soup for you two,” Sybil said, bearing a tray and gesturing toward a table. She sat down and placed three bowls. “If you don’t mind, I’ll join you.”

  “With pleasure,” Wymarc said. She glanced toward Terric and Avice. “Will you honor us with your presence?”

  “Oh, you can be sure of that!” Avice said with a laugh. She dragged Terric along and glanced warningly at Krea and Hana. “He doesn’t talk to many people but you two — being thrice-born — you’re going to get an earful.”

  “I wouldn’t say that, dear,” Terric began slowly.

  Krea found herself seated in front of a bowl of delicious smelling soup and scooping up a spoonful.

  Krea glanced warningly to Hana who merely shrugged and smiled, dipping her spoon into her bowl and blowing on it coolingly.

  A moment later, Krea noted that Bryan, the Ferryman had returned and was sitting beside her.

  “It’s not often that the whole family gets to dine with guests,” Bryan said, smiling first at Krea and then Hana, to whom he added a wink.

  “The family?” Hana asked, glancing up from her soup fearfully. She turned to Sybil.

  “I’m their daughter,” Sybil said, smiling.

  “You’re a god, too?” Krea asked in amazement.

  Bryan chuckled. “Of course!” He beckoned to Sybil. “Hey, sis! I need some strength!”

  Sybil sighed, waved her hand and another steaming bowl of soup appeared in front of Bryan, with a spoon beside it. Bryan beamed in appreciation and slurped up a mouthful with a groan of pleasure.

  “You’re the god of strength,” Krea said with no doubt in her voice.

  Sybil merely grinned at her and bobbed her head.

  “Someone has to do the work around here,” Avice said, nodding toward her daughter approvingly.