A Soul For Atonement (The Soulbearer Series Book 4)

by Crista McHugh

  “Ah, but you see, you’re going about this the wrong way.” He leaned against one of the trunks and stroked the bark like he was petting a dog. The leaves rustled, and the branches relaxed into stillness.

  Loku reach up and plucked an apple, tossing it to her. “That’s how you calm them down.”

  She inspected the fruit for any hidden surprises like worms or internal rotting, but it was as perfect as an apple could be. Her mouth watered. She bit into the ripe flesh, letting the crisp sweetness fill her mouth. “How is it that the best apple I’ve ever tasted comes from Chaos?”

  His expression darkened into something seductive and devious. “There are a great many things you could enjoy here with me, my little Soulbearer.”

  A shudder coursed down her spine, and the apple lost its sweetness. Before she could ask what he meant, the levity returned to his grin, and he beckoned her to follow him deeper into the orchard of snarling trees.

  Arden pressed her arms to her sides and followed him, her nerves on edge from every branch that lunged at her.

  Loku, on the other hand, appeared as though this was nothing more than a stroll through a normal apple orchard. He stopped in front of a tree in the heart of the orchard and rubbed its trunk like he’d done earlier. A shimmering light flowed up from the roots to the leaves, bathing them in a silvery light. The tree froze, and Loku reached up to grab something from its branches. At first glance, it appeared to be another apple, but as he juggled it in his hands, she realized it was a large ruby.

  “So, you’d do anything to free Dev?” he asked, tossing the jewel from hand to hand so quickly that she couldn’t figure out what shape it was cut into. It was neither perfectly round nor square.

  She opened her mouth to say yes, but caught herself just in time. Loku was up to something, and if she agreed to his plan too quickly, she’d find herself at his mercy. She crossed her arms and tried to appear uninterested. “Depends.”

  “You disappoint me, Arden. Even before Dev professed his love for you, he still would’ve given his life to save yours. And you’re not willing to do the same for him?” He shook his head and started to turn around.

  “I said it depends.”

  He gave her a sly smile over his shoulder. “Your Milorian blood is starting to show.”

  “Yes, but my patience is starting to wane.”

  He chuckled and rolled the ruby over his shoulders from one arm to the other. “You could give Marist a run for imperial snobbery.” He popped the jewel up in the air from his shoulder and caught it, but not before she saw that it was shaped like a heart. “Perhaps we should be discussing ways to claim the throne for yourself.”

  “Loku…” she warned.

  “Oh, very well, let’s get down to business.” He wrapped his hand around the jewel and pointed a finger at her. “You need to find the Blood of Lireal to save Dev, and since I was with Syd at the time he stole it, I know exactly where he hid it.”

  Impatience beat in her heart like a line of war drums. She squeezed her arms tighter across her chest to keep her temper in check. The last thing she needed to do was piss him off and have him withhold that information to spite her. “But?”

  “But what?” he asked, fluttering his eyelashes like a simpering flirt.

  “But what do you want from me in return?” She lifted her chin and moved a step closer to him. “You don’t do anything unless it serves your purpose, and I’d like to know what your price is.”

  “You already know what I want, what I desire above all else, what I will have again.”

  The sinister tone in his voice left no doubt in her mind what he wanted. It was the same thing that drove him to convince her to go to Lothmore Palace a year ago. The same thing that he pushed her to discover. The same thing that made him howl in frustration when he learned it was no longer there.

  The urn containing his ashes.

  When Loku unleashed the Realm of Chaos onto the mortal realm, the gods and goddesses joined together to separate his soul from his body and imprison it inside the first Soulbearer. Then the mortal mages burned his body and hid the ashes in a cellar deep inside Lothmore Palace. Loku led her there with the intention of using her connection to the current lord of the castle to retrieve them, but Varrik di Miloria caught on and had the ashes moved to another secure location.

  “He won’t tell me where they are, Loku.”

  “Are you so certain?” He circled her, leaning close to her ear to whisper, “After all, what father wouldn’t want to make his daughter happy?”

  “One who understands the danger of giving you your body back.”

  Loku made a muffled sound of displeasure in his throat and moved back in front of her, playing with the ruby once again. “Very well. Your cold-hearted father would let the man you love die for a crime he didn’t commit just to keep me from claiming what is mine. So be it.”

  The trees parted to reveal a man with auburn hair being led to a stone altar by winged giants far off in the distance. She couldn’t see their faces, but she knew the man was Dev. The guards forced his head down to the altar while the largest of them lifted a stone club into the air.

  Panic diverted the moisture in her mouth to her eyes as the Ornathian started to swing the club down. “No, don’t!”

  The image evaporated into the fog before the Ornathian smashed Dev’s head, but it didn’t stop the image from racing through her mind over and over again until her stomach squeezed with fear.

  It’s just a dream, she reminded herself over and over again. None of this is real.

  “It’s quite simple, Arden. You tell me where my ashes are, and I tell you where the relic is.” Loku threw the heart-shaped ruby back into the tree with the silvery leaves. “The choice is up to you.”

  The fog closed in around them, and he backed into the mist, vanishing completely with the exception of his voice. “How much do you love Dev?”

  Then the ground fell out from under her.

  Chapter 6

  Arden tumbled out of bed, her nightgown soaked in sweat. Her breath seeped out in a strangled sob. The only way to save Dev was to convince her father to reveal the location of Loku’s ashes, but she already knew what Varrik would say. He was the empire’s Lore Keeper, and he knew what havoc Loku had created when he had a body. He wouldn’t jeopardize the safety of the empire for her.

  “You don’t know until you ask,” Loku whispered.

  She brushed back the damp strands of hair that clung to her face and looked out the window. Darkness had fallen, but the orange glow to the east warned of the approaching dawn. A curse fell from her lips. Sweet Lady Moon, she’d slept the entire day away. Only twelve more days to find the relic and return it to King Adeyemi.

  A heavy blanket of helplessness draped over her shoulder. She pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on top of them. There had to be another way to save Dev. Arano and Marist wouldn’t help her, but there had to be someone who could.

  Cinder licked her hand before wedging himself under her arm.

  A grin pulled at her lips, and she ruffled his fur. “I’m glad I still have you.”

  The wolf leaned against her, his muzzle resting on her head.

  She allowed herself a few minutes to enjoy the affection he offered before moving. “Come on, boy. We can’t save Dev by sitting here.”

  The light of the three moons was giving way to the sun by the time she emerged from her quarters. Only the earliest of the servants and the ever vigilant night guard stirred at this time of the morning. She made her way to the stables without anyone to hinder her path and started saddling her horse.

  She was adjusting the stirrups when the glow of a lantern illuminated the shadowy stall. Arden looked up and immediately shielded her mind.

  “Leaving already, Soulbearer?” Marist asked from the other side of the door.

  “I’ve already wasted too much time here.” Arden gave the leather strap one final tug and grabbed the reins. “Time is running out to save Dev
, and you won’t help me.”

  A hint of an apology played in the downward cast of Marist’s eyes and carried over into her voice. “It’s not that I don’t want to, Arden. But you must understand my position.”

  “I understand it very clearly.” She tried to maneuver past the empress, but Marist blocked her. “Politics above all else.”

  “No, the safety of my people above all else.” Marist gripped the stall door and coated it with a thick wall of ice, freezing it closed. “And as much as I hate to do it, sometimes the life of one must be sacrificed to save the many.”

  “But he’s my one, my love, my heart and soul.” Arden’s anger bled out into frustration and sorrow. “I don’t think someone like you could ever understand that, though.”

  Marist looked down, her normally stony countenance softening to regret. “No, I’ve never felt the depth of emotion you and Dev have for each other, and I’m truly sorry that I cannot resolve this situation for you.”

  For a moment, a stab of pity tore through Arden’s cloud of fear and fury. What must it have been like for her cousin growing up inside the palace? To be a pawn in their uncle’s political games? To never feel safe giving her heart to someone because she’d always be questioning their motives?

  “Please, Arden, I know how much he means to you by how far you’re willing to go to save him, but if you are unable to—”

  “I will find that relic and save Dev.” Even if it means giving Loku his ashes. She summoned her fire and melted the ice over the door. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m wasting valuable time.”

  “And where are you going from here?”

  “Where else can I go? Syd stole the relic from the Ornathians, so he had to have hid it somewhere near them. Otherwise, they would’ve captured him and reclaimed it.”

  “The Ornathian lands are dangerous. Not many return from them.”

  A hard lump formed in Arden’s throat. She hadn’t considered that. Maybe Lothmore would be the safer alternative. “I’ve faced worse odds. Now please, let me go.”

  “If I listened to our uncle, you’d be bound in mithral chains right now.” Marist stepped aside, but her icy gaze didn’t falter. “Be careful, Arden. Don’t give in to Loku’s demands. And don’t surrender to him if you should fail.”

  Arden stopped short, her breath catching. What would she do if she failed?

  “You won’t fail, my little Soulbearer. Not if you give me what I want.”

  A pain squeezed in the center of her chest. It would be so simple to cast a spell on her father, to force that information from him, to invade his mind as her cousin had done to so many others and search until she’d unlocked his secrets. But unlocking those secrets came at the cost of betraying him and the fragile relationship they’d built.

  “Why should you care?” Loku asked. “After all, wasn’t he the man who left your mother alone and pregnant?”

  She reached for the pendant she’d worn for years, only now it was Dev’s pendant she wore, not her mother’s. “She was the one who chose to stay behind in Ranello.”

  “And yet, if he truly loved her, he would have come back for her.”

  Doubt slithered into the far corners of her mind. She’d only known her father for a year. She’d known Dev longer. And maybe her father would forgive her once she justified her actions by saving Dev.

  Arden met her cousin’s gaze and drew in a deep, determined breath. “I won’t fail.”

  ***

  Sazi perched on the roof of the tallest tower of the palace and searched the streets of Queembra below. Arden blended in with the city’s citizens, but Cinder burned as brightly as a torch before her sharp eyes. Even when he wasn’t on fire, his fur shimmered like flames. She waited, tracking their movements until they passed through the last of the city’s gates.

  Worry troubled her soul when she saw which road they took.

  She stretched out her wings and glided down to the balcony outside the empress’s private quarters. The open doors were the only invitation she needed, and she passed through the rooms until she found the empress writing at her desk in the study. “She’s taken the western road toward Lothmore.”

  Marist looked up from her papers, her cheeks paling. “Leave us,” she said to her attendants.

  Once they were alone, a silver halo flashed in her eyes, and she drew in a sharp breath. “So she lied to me.”

  “Perhaps. Or perhaps he is controlling her path.”

  “Ivis help us all if he succeeds.” Marist put down her pen and closed her eyes, her lips moving in silent words.

  It was something Sazi had seen many times over the years. Like herself, Marist was a high priestess, a mortal chosen by the gods to receive their words and wisdom. The empress served Ivis, the Lady Moon and most worshipped deity in the empire.

  Sazi waited patiently, resisting the temptation to commune with her own goddess. Unlike Ivis, Lireal rarely spoke. But when she did, Sazi listened.

  Marist opened her eyes, the silver glow fading from them. “We cannot allow him to find his ashes.”

  “And he will not. They are no longer at Lothmore, and Varrik knows not where they are hidden now.”

  “That won’t stop Loku from trying to extract that information from him.” The empress leaned back in her chair, the burdens of both protecting her empire and serving her goddess creasing lines into her young face. “We should warn him.”

  “Indeed.”

  Marist pulled out another sheet of paper and began writing.

  Sazi moved to a window and stretched out her wings, soaking up the warmth of the sun. The air had turned crisp and cool as of late, and winter would be here soon. Once again, her people’s crops had been meager, and the snow would bring a great time of starving.

  Unless they recovered the Blood of Lireal.

  Or appeased Lireal with a sacrifice.

  Sazi’s soul protested the latter. She’d seen into Dev’s soul and knew the nobility it possessed. He was a man who deserved to live.

  Please, merciful goddess, does it have to be this way?

  She waited, but no answer came to her prayer. She folded her wings back and turned to find Marist pressing her seal into the wax.

  “I’ll send this to Varrik right away so he’ll have time to prepare his defenses.”

  Sazi reached for the letter. “May I take it to him?”

  The empress blinked several times before narrowing her eyes. “Why?”

  “Because I can fly faster than the Soulbearer can ride.”

  “Why do I suspect there is more to this than you’ve told me?”

  “Because there is.” Sazi lowered her eyes and bowed her head. “Please, Your Imperial Majesty, allow me to take this message to the Lore Keeper so that I may continue with the task given to me.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  Sazi lifted her gaze and rose to her full height, looking down on the young empress. “Then I will do what I must.”

  “Is that a threat?” Marist tapped the letter in her palm, unfazed by what would intimidate a normal mortal.

  “It is simply the truth.”

  A few more seconds passed before the empress held out the letter. “Loku cannot be allowed to regenerate his body.”

  “I know this.” Sazi took the letter, but Marist refused to release it until she had one final say in the matter.

  “I will not betray my goddess.”

  “Nor will I.” Sazi pulled the letter free from the empress. “I pray that I will not be tempted to consider otherwise.”

  As she flew west toward the far mountains that surrounded Lothmore Palace, the heaviness in her soul refused to yield. Betrayal came at a price.

  But so did obedience.

  Chapter 7

  Arden’s bones ached by the time she rode through the gates of Lothmore Palace. For two days, she’d pushed her horse to her limits, resting only when the mare refused to take another step. The cold bite in the evening air and flurries swirling around her signaled winter w
as not far behind, and a new worry settled over her heart. The last thing she wanted was to be trapped here all winter because of another avalanche in the pass like last time.

  “We’re here. Now what?”

  “We force him to tell us where the urn is.”

  A new worry twisted her gut from the malice in Loku’s voice. How far would he go to extract that information? “And if he doesn’t?”

  Vicious laughter echoed through her mind. Loku bore little love for Varrik, if their last stay in Lothmore was any indication, and she could almost taste the chaos god’s thirst for revenge over being outsmarted by the Lore Keeper.

  “I won’t let you kill him,” she warned. “If I need to contain you—”

  “If you contain me, then you’ll never learn where he hid my ashes, and you’ll never find the Blood of Lireal.”

  She winced. Sweet Lady Moon, what kind of mess had she gotten herself into? As much as she hated to admit it, she was at Loku’s mercy.

  Unless I find a way to do it on my own. Giving Loku back his ashes was not without its own set of consequences, but her weary mind offered no other suggestions. She slid off her horse and made her way to the door.

  It opened before she had a chance to knock. A brown-haired elf with almost colorless pale blue eyes greeted her with a barely suppressed sneer. Callix de Jaquoix, her father’s apprentice. “We’ve been expecting you, Soulbearer.”

  “It’s always a pleasure seeing you, too, Callix.”

  Time hadn’t dulled the loathing in his eyes as he stepped aside to let her enter. The Jaquoix family had ruled the Gravarian empire for centuries, but it was the marriage of Renna di Miloria to the former emperor that established the shift in power. Her father had explained that it was more than just politics that seemed to fuel Callix’s mistrust of her. The first five Soulbearers had been members of the Jaquoix family, and her position as both Soulbearer and a member of the Milorian family was a threat to his own.

  Just like the last time she entered the palace, a warm spell wrapped around her and drove the cold from her bones, welcoming her despite Callix’s chilly reception. She didn’t have to ask where to find her father. Varrik di Miloria was happiest among his books, and when he wasn’t in his massive library, he was in his small study. Since Callix mentioned they were expecting her, she went to the study first.