Radiant's Honor (Founders Series Book 2)

by Mari Dietz

  All the reapers turned away from Kai. He stayed alone in the middle of the injured reapers.

  Vic stood next to him. “Xiona broke his trust. He wanted to tell you but didn’t know how.”

  Landon snorted. “It looks like he told you.” His jaw clenched. “I’m leaving.” He glanced at the wounded. “Who wants to leave with me?”

  Vic hoped they would ignore Landon, but the wounds ran too deep. The uninjured reapers helped their comrades who couldn’t walk. In minutes, the room had emptied except for Bomrosy, Xiona, Ivy, Freddie, Kai, and Vic.

  Freddie walked up to Kai, and Ivy glared.

  “Since you can’t trust us, we can’t trust you.” Ivy crossed her arms.

  Vic stepped forward. “Ivy …”

  She shook her head. “I tried to believe the best, even when everyone else believed Landon. But since you don’t think of us as your team, we might as well be on our own.”

  Her heart hurt as she watched them walk away. There was nothing Vic could say as they left. They were right. Since the start, Vic had kept them at a distance.

  Kai’s expression was blank.

  “Kai?”

  His weary eyes focused. “I’m sorry, I need a moment. Thank you for trying.”

  Vic watched him go and went to Bomrosy. “Are you okay?”

  Bomrosy nodded. “Yeah. I sent Maddox home.”

  “Good.” She drew in a deep, shaky breath. The rage bubbled inside her over the constant warnings she’d given Bomrosy about Xiona. “What were you thinking bringing Xiona back here? I explicitly told you to leave her at Kai’s house. Do you understand what you did?” This entire scene could have been avoided had she listened. “What makes you immune to what Kai told you to do? He’s your commander too.”

  Bomrosy swallowed. “Everyone was already thinking of leaving before this.”

  “This didn’t help any! Kai was trying to find the right time to tell them about GicCorp. You tore apart the whole Order!” Vic knew there were more problems, but she couldn’t think clearly anymore.

  “It wasn’t only me. Stop blaming me because Kai didn’t trust them.” Bomrosy glared at Vic. “I messed up, but if Kai had been honest from the start, this wouldn’t have happened.” Tears fell down her cheeks. “Why are you always defending him? Shouldn’t he be the one admitting his own mistakes?”

  Vic clenched her fists. “Why don’t you take Xiona and leave? You care more about her, anyway.”

  “I guess I do.” Bomrosy led Xiona out, and as soon as Vic heard the steps fade away, she fell to her knees. The Order was now dark and empty, mirroring how she felt inside.

  13

  Amaya

  Amaya moaned as she shifted in her bed. She slowly rotated her toes and fingers. Next, she moved her wrists and ankles until she felt comfortable sitting up. She eyed her slender body with appreciation. Amaya had always preferred to be petite instead of muscular, even though it sometimes gave her a disadvantage. Others could partake in hard labor for her.

  On her nightstand, the wand waited for her, and she picked it up and cradled it like a long-lost child. It warmed in her hands, and she stroked it. The delicate lines of the wand twirled down the stem and met at the jade-colored gem, almost like a flower waiting to bloom. The wand knew her body, and she took it as a sign of acceptance. The magic thrums always felt like coming home.

  The surrounding room didn’t seem much different from before, the large bed and windows still the same. The bedding had changed, but she might have slept for a few years, so it was only healthy. Everything was still in crisp grays and blacks. She smiled. Her husband’s taste never changed. With so many years to live, he could try to be adventurous, but it also kept him loyal to her.

  The solid onyx doors stayed closed, and she frowned at them. It was strange that he wasn’t waiting for her to awaken, but maybe she’d slept too long for him to stay by her side.

  She flinched as her head throbbed, sending errant thoughts through her head. “This one’s a fighter.” How bothersome. The body seemed weak enough, but the will was strong. She should have known by now not to let a delicate body deceive her.

  The door clicked open, and a youthful man entered. Every hair remained combed in place, and the light brown strands contained a slight curl to them. The fitted suit complemented his frame, from the broad shoulders to the narrow waist. As his lips curved in an excited smile, a yummy dimple appeared in his cheek. His clear blue eyes brightened when he saw she was awake. Every time was different, but beyond the color of the eyes, they recognized each other. Comfort surrounded her, and she knew he was her home.

  “My love, you’re finally awake.” He strode to her side.

  “Tristan.” Amaya rose on shaking legs, and he rushed to stabilize her. She snuggled into his embrace, enjoying his firmness under the tailored suit. She tugged at his sleeves.

  He laughed. “Always impatient.”

  Amaya pushed her bottom lip out in a pout. He bent over her face and pressed his lips to hers. She moved her mouth with his. Nothing felt right until he kissed her. He pulled back, and she parted her lips in a frown. Even though pain lanced through her head, she still wanted him.

  Tristan softly kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry, but there’s a bit to go over before we can get lost in each other.”

  Amaya groaned. “Don’t tell me this is the uprising of the cycle.”

  He sat down and pulled her onto his lap. “I thought it was your favorite.”

  She smacked him lightly and kissed the addictive dimple. Maybe she would request for him to always have dimples. He always got to pick what he liked. “So this body must have been running in the sewers at all hours of the night? Why don’t you ever have to do that?” She wrinkled her nose.

  “Luck of the draw. I’m afraid I brought you back too soon, and the others aren’t happy with me.” His brows furrowed. “They’ve been making deals they shouldn’t be making.”

  Amaya pressed a finger between his eyebrows to smooth them out. He would get wrinkles if he wasn’t careful. “What else is new? They don’t like us being together too long. Makes them nervous.” When you grew too old for too long, bonds broke and reformed over and over. That she and Tristan had never broken made them nervous because it made the couple stronger. In lifespans, you needed at least one person to trust. Otherwise, you had a miserable cycle and would have to start over again.

  He kissed her again. She enjoyed it until he pulled away. “Unfortunately, you can’t leave the property in your normal capacity.”

  Amaya shook her head, brushing away the cobwebs from his kisses. “Wait, how soon?”

  “Sixty years too early.”

  “Tristan!” Amaya jumped out of his lap. “Why would you do that?”

  He pulled at her hands to make her sit back down, but she didn’t move. “I hate to say it, but I need you. Things aren’t going the same as before. When we introduced the new relics, it added an issue.”

  “You mean the rings?” Amaya plopped down. “Ugh, I told Ethan it was a terrible idea, the idiot. Now I have to fix his mess? Or is it past that point?”

  Tristan crossed his legs. “Way past.”

  “I’m stuck behind these walls. What am I supposed to do?” He should have used someone else’s body. Her brain throbbed. She loved him, but she knew he had a type.

  “Gather information.”

  “Oh, with spy pigeons?”

  Tristan kissed her ear. “Don’t worry. There’s something much better than pigeons.” He traced her arm, making her shiver.

  “I will have to use this body, won’t I?” She pouted. Amaya hated trying to act like others. She never pulled it off. “Can’t you get someone else to do it?”

  Tristan shook his head. “No, the family member belongs to you, and I have a feeling only you can do it.”

  Amaya pursed her lips. “Fine. I guess you have to give me all the information now?” She doubted her acting skills. Her strength was better suited for direct attacks than sneaking
behind the scenes. She glanced at her hair color. Yep, the color confirmed why he’d put her in this body. His type was so predictable.

  “But you love to study.”

  “Not really.” She twisted her hair over her shoulder. “What rebel has you so scared this time around? Normally, things don’t get out of hand.”

  “I’m not scared.”

  Amaya made a face when Tristan looked away. He seemed more bothered than normal. There had to be too many people in power moving against them this time. Interesting. Normally, the founders were too busy looking out for themselves to worry about GicCorp. She’d have to give props to this cycle. Maybe they would be one version she would remember later. It never mattered, though. History always repeated itself. They knew each cycle and how it would end.

  She grinned. The higher they rose, the harder they would fall. If they crushed too many bodies, though, they would be back where they’d started, and she didn’t want to build anything or grow plants. Tiresome.

  Amaya pulled his face back to her. “I need a bit of motivation before I have to study.”

  Tristan bent his face down toward hers. As he pushed her down on the bed, her toes curled. She really liked this body. Her fingers bent without her control, and she reached for Tristan’s eyes. Amaya pulled back the attack, but she still slapped him across the cheek, leaving behind fingernail scratches.

  He backed away. “See, her will is strong.”

  Amaya huffed. “It won’t take long. I’m stronger.” In the meantime, she shouldn’t rile her up by kissing her husband. She found it was better to squash the soul slowly than to provoke it.

  A knock sounded at the door, and another man entered. He was older, with gray at his temples, and he gave them a dour glance. Dull eyes with an expression to match. Even though he wore tailored clothing of the latest fashion, his personality didn’t pull it off. He remained a hanger for the items instead. Centuries later and he still made the same face at them. Everything about the man was dull compared to Tristan. They could put the man in the best body and he would still make it fade into the background.

  “Ah, Ethan, I thought you would come in and spoil the fun.” Amaya pushed off the bed. She bowed slightly to the old fuddy-duddy. Just once, she would love to be in a cycle without him. His slow creep for power annoyed her and made their lives more difficult. “I hear your latest pet project is getting out of hand?”

  Ethan stiffened. “As a matter of fact, it isn’t. Having fewer people in the city is always better in the long run.”

  Amaya smoothed out her gown and flipped her hair. “You would think so, but people make this world run.” He always wanted a cowed nation. This world stayed in the dark ages, even with magic. If she had a choice, they would leave Ethan behind with everyone else. She and Tristan could manage better.

  “Don’t push your luck, Amaya. You aren’t even supposed to be here.” His nostrils flared. “Someone picked a body that wasn’t his to take.”

  Amaya bounced back to her husband and put her arms around his neck, kissing him on her dimple. “Awe, he knows what I like.”

  Stop.

  Her arms stiffened. “Apparently, a body that doesn’t like you?” She raised her eyebrows at Tristan.

  He rubbed her back. “Nothing you can’t handle.”

  “Hmm.” Maybe she should give him a headache for every time this body caused her one.

  “Tristan, I came to get you for the meeting.” Ethan the Dull as Paint said.

  “I take it I’m not invited.”

  Ethan pursed his lips. “You aren’t supposed to be here.”

  “I got it. But I am here.” Amaya stabbed him in the chest with her finger. “You have one day to get used to it. I hate meetings anyway.”

  Ethan’s face grew red, and she assumed the old fool was mad or something. Tristan laughed and kissed the top of her head, then followed Ethan out the door.

  Amaya glanced around the sizable room. She should paint it brighter colors while Tristan busied himself with horrid meetings. A mirror sat in the corner, and she approached it cautiously. She trusted Tristan with her preferences, but there was always something missing.

  In the mirror, the slender figure stood upright. Amaya appreciated that they had good posture. Shorter than she was used to, though. Her lips curled in a smile as she took in the lovely red hair. Tristan liked a redhead. The lighter color accented the green eyes. Amaya traced her face and appreciated the well-set lines.

  “You were a beauty.”

  Stop.

  “Sorry. I can’t.” She turned in the mirror to check out the back of her body. Lovely. “It will only hurt for a bit. You shouldn’t fight it.” Some left immediately after the new soul came in. Others thought they could fight. This one thought she had a reason to stay. It would only permanently destroy her. She’d made her choice without knowing it, but Amaya always won.

  Stop.

  “Hush now. Let go.” Amaya went to her wand. Using her magic quickened the ownership process. Her wand warmed in her hand, and she enjoyed the feel of the surrounding air. The Nordics had always held their secrets close. The imbs focused on one aspect of their magic because that was all they knew. The still air moved around her crawled up her veins. Close to painful but the power made it worth it. Her body now saturated with the air, she pushed it down to her wand. Like breathing, the magic came back to her.

  Then a wall came down and cut her off from the air before she could release it. The trapped magic stung her insides, and she screamed. Warm blood flowed down her nose. The sound of glass cracking cut through the room, and with a boom, it shattered.

  Amaya faced the broken window. The shards stayed poised in the air.

  Her breath came in gasps as she tried to take control of her wand. “It’s not yours to control!”

  The glass shards inched forward painfully. Frozen in place, Amaya struggled to regain her magic. The first shard reached her and cut down her arm. She screamed as blood oozed out of her body.

  The doors slammed open, and the glass turned to sand and fell to the ground. Tristan leaped forward and pried the wand from her hand.

  “What in the blight happened?” He ripped off his jacket and put it over the long cut down her arm to stop the flowing blood.

  I told you to stop.

  Amaya sneered. “This one thinks she will win.”

  I will. If I die, I will take you with me.

  Amaya trembled and hoped Tristan didn’t feel it. “I messed up with imbuing the air and broke the window. I guess I’m rustier than I thought.”

  Tristan frowned. “Don’t use your wand yet. Get adjusted first.”

  Amaya nodded, and her blood froze as laughter sounded in the back of her mind. Let her think she’d won this battle, but for the first time, a tiny shred of fear appeared in Amaya’s thoughts.

  Let it begin.

  14

  Vic

  After Bomrosy left, Vic wandered the empty halls of the Order. The smell of drying blood grew thick in the abandoned halls. With all the mog bones and bodies in the courtyard, her home had turned into a tomb, reminding her of when she’d learned in school that they used to bury their dead instead of burning them. All the reapers had gone, leaving her and Kai to take care of the bodies. She waited outside Kai’s office, but she didn’t feel like talking to him. In a few hours, she would see him about building the funeral pyres.

  She dragged her weary body to the courtyard and went to the small shed where they kept a supply of wood for pyres. To her surprise, Nyx reapers trickled into the courtyard. One by one they came. They didn’t speak to her or each other. Ivy and Freddie worked silently and avoided her. They’d all come back to honor the dead. Vic swallowed repeatedly as the reapers worked together for their fallen comrades. Even though the task was horrific, they showed her the bond she’d cut out. Was that what Landon saw in her? She didn’t doubt he was a jerk, but in her mind, she had held herself apart from them.

  Once they’d finished building the p
yres and placing the shrouded dead, they lit the fires and faced their fallen. Vic hadn’t realized there were so many of them. The crushed bodies had made it hard to count, but there were over twenty from what she could tell. The Nyx numbers had dwindled to under forty. They’d already had the fewest members of all the Orders after the battle, and now they barely filled one hall. Not that it mattered since they’d all left.

  Vic glanced at the window to Kai’s office, and he looked at them, his face blank. When the fires died, they swept the ash into large sacks. The reapers went to gather their belongings. It didn’t take them long to pack up their lives in the Order. They left as silently as they’d come, with their packs and scythes strapped to their backs. The brands on their necks held no more meaning than a regretted tattoo.

  Vic didn’t want to stay in the battle’s graveyard, so she walked outside. The sun rose, and the streets remained quiet. Paying no attention to the direction she walked, she recognized the path that led to William. She didn’t want to sleep at the empty Order. If she were being honest with herself, she barely slept there anymore. Even though she’d worked most of her life to get into Nyx, she wasn’t one of them. Her mind twisted with thoughts that this was her own fault.

  “I don’t blame Ivy and Freddie,” she muttered to herself. They’d done nothing but help her and trust her, but she hadn’t returned the favor. If they really wanted to make a difference in Verrin, they’d need to reach out. Tristan already knew their plans, so what was the risk of bringing others in? Who else could fight the mogs GicCorp created? The reapers had deserved their trust, and they’d blown it. As long as they let fear rule their choices, Tristan would win.

  She reached Kai’s house, and she frowned at the door locked from the outside. Had William already left for work? It was too early yet for him. She unlocked the door and found Samuel alone inside.