Harvest of Souls: Disciples of the Horned One Volume Three (Soul Force Saga Book 3)

by James Wisher

  When it managed to extinguish the flames it climbed to its feet and whirled toward Marie-Bell. Her hammer struck it on the top of the head and crushed it flat. The creature turned to black mist and vanished back to hell where it belonged. Now all she had to do was batter down the door and find Jen and Damien.

  Chapter 46

  Damien settled on the narrow path, drew Lizzy, and started toward the source of corruption. As he walked he poured power into his shield while Lizzy charged the edge of her blade with gray fire. Whoever or whatever awaited them, they’d be ready.

  The path sloped steadily downward. Damien strained all his senses, both sorcerous and mundane, but detected nothing beyond the roiling corruption. The source had stopped moving which suggested it had reached the battlefield of its choosing. Damien wasn’t thrilled about having to fight on unfamiliar ground, but since he’d never seen this cavern before the whole place was unfamiliar. He’d just have to adapt.

  As he drew closer to the source of the corruption his lights continued to dim, forcing Damien to spend more energy to maintain them. It wasn’t a ton of power relative to what he had available, but he begrudged every drop lost before a battle. Unfortunately, walking blind into a fight was an even worse option.

  The path began to widen and the stalagmites grew less frequent until they disappeared all together. Damien came to a steep slope. When he’d clambered up to the top a stunning sight spread out below him. An ancient ruin filled an endless cavern. It seemed like someone might have mentioned a hidden city to him.

  Cold, blue ghost lights drifted through the tumbled towers and crushed homes. Everything was made of stone, or at least everything that had withstood the passage of time. And one look at the place told Damien it was ancient beyond anything he had ever heard of. It reminded him of the stone circle they’d investigated two days ago. It would be interesting to see if the ledger mentioned this place. Even if it didn't the scholars at The Tower would be drooling when he told them about it.

  He glided down to the cavern floor and set out once more in the direction of the corruption. Damien sensed no life and only one source of corruption. Could it be Connor Blackman himself? No, whatever it was it was weaker than Mikhail.

  Damien sighed and stopped speculating. He’d see soon enough and deal with it accordingly.

  Even damaged the stone building loomed above him. Who had lived here? The ruin obviously predated the arrival of the first imperial colonists. No books he’d read made any mention of it. That suggested it was already buried when the colonists first arrived. Perhaps an earthquake had sent the whole city down into the cavern below. Damien looked up at the undamaged ceiling. If the city came from above who had fixed the roof and more to the point how had they done it?

  So many questions and not nearly enough answers. He rounded a corner and a plaza opened up before him. A woman stood alone in the center facing him, her hands behind her back. She was the source of the corruption. Black veins ran under her skin and her eyes glowed red. A warlock then, one of Connor’s servants.

  “Damien St. Cloud?” she asked.

  “That’s right. And you are?”

  She smiled, displaying perfect white teeth. “I’m Morana. You’ve probably heard of me.”

  In fact Damien hadn’t heard of her. He frowned. Jen mentioned a redheaded sorcerer that worked with Mikhail. Maybe this was her. “Didn’t you used to be a redhead?”

  She ran the fingers of one hand through her limp black hair and sighed. “Yes. My curls are the only thing I miss about being human.”

  Morana seemed a little sad to him. Being transformed into a monster with demonic soul force would do that to you. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to surrender and come along quietly?”

  She brought her other hand around to the front. It held one of the black urns. “I don’t suppose I would.”

  Black lightning surged out. Damien caught most of it on Lizzy’s blade. His soul force rushed out and pain rushed in. Lizzy reinforced his power and between her and his own rapid regeneration of energy he broke even with the drain.

  Morana stared at him, her mouth hanging partway open. Damien leaned into the lightning and pushed forward. His muscles spasmed and vision blurred. Everywhere the lightning touched felt like a red-hot poker striking his skin, but he bore it.

  One step after another he closed the distance.

  He couldn’t attack with soul force, the urn would absorb it in an instant, but he still had a perfectly good sword in his hands. He just had to get close enough and he’d cut her goddamn head off.

  “Are you okay?” he muttered as he pushed through the storm of lightning.

  I can no longer feel physical pain.

  Damien grunted. “Lucky you.”

  He was only three steps away when another, monstrous source of corruption approached. He turned just in time to take another blast of lightning in the side. The last of his soul force rushed out and Damien collapsed.

  A man appeared above him. At least he had been a man at some point.

  “Connor Blackman,” Damien gasped out.

  “Yes. Damien St. Cloud, this meeting has been a long time coming. You have proven yourself a worthy adversary. But our conflict has ended the only way possible. Now go to sleep.”

  The most powerful surge of lightning yet tore into Damien and everything went dark.

  Chapter 47

  Morana had arrived in the plaza exactly as she planned. Her subordinates had the target’s allies under control up above. All she had to do was wait for him to arrive, use the urn, and fly him back to Connor. Her master would be so pleased when she returned with his prize. Of course Mikhail had gotten himself killed, but Connor couldn’t blame her for the black knight’s stupidity. It wasn’t Morana’s fault he flew off on his own to confront Damien.

  She nodded to herself. It most certainly wasn’t her fault. Maybe if she said it a few more times she’d start to believe it.

  A shiver ran through her as the target’s soul force drew closer. Outside of Connor himself she’d never felt a presence as powerful as Damien’s. If Morana hadn’t had the urn she would have fled already. As it was it took all her willpower to remain standing in the plaza and not tremble.

  A scuff of boots on gravel alerted her to his arrival. Just looking at the boy you wouldn’t have thought he was anything special. Average height, lean, sinewy build, and hard, cold eyes. His gaze locked with Morana and she had to clench her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering.

  They had a brief conversation, surprisingly pleasant. He even asked about her hair. Morana had really loved her coppery hair. When Damien offered to let her surrender she whipped out the urn and fed corrupt soul force into it.

  Black lightning shot out and she directed it toward him. Unlike a regular person or sorcerer, a warlock like Morana could control the urn’s power without suffering any ill effects.

  She expected him to drop just like all the others she’d fought. He didn’t. Most of the lightning was deflected by the demon sword and while it did drain some of his power he regenerated so fast the urn couldn’t drain him dry.

  Damien leaned forward and took a step toward her.

  Morana stared. It wasn’t possible.

  He took another step, his face set in a pained scowl, proving her thought a lie. There would be no surrender offered her now. If she didn’t finish draining him, Damien would kill her without a second thought. She saw it in his eyes.

  He was only five paces away when a familiar, dark presence approached. Master?

  Four steps away. Connor drew close. Would he arrive in time to save her or avenge her?

  Three steps away. A second stream of lightning struck Damien in the side and finally put him down. Not out though. He still glared at her through pain-filled eyes.

  Connor said something to the boy, though she only half heard, before hitting him with another blast and rendering him unconscious.

  “Connor, I—”

  He rounded on her. “Be silen
t. And be grateful that I still have a use for you. Otherwise I’d kill you where you stand for disobeying me. Bad enough your stupidity cost me a useful tool, but you almost failed to capture the boy. If I hadn't sensed Mikhail’s death or if I’d been any later getting here he would have killed you. Why do you think I said to have Mikhail help you?”

  “It’s not my fault, Master. Mikhail went after the boy on his own the moment he sensed his soul force. I couldn’t stop him.”

  “You should have gone with him. After Mikhail weakened Damien you could have struck him down easily.” Connor shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now. We have what I need. Keep your urn ready and stay close to him. I’ll transport us back to the cavern.”

  “You don’t think he might wake after that?”

  “How much more evidence do you need that we’re not dealing with a normal sorcerer? Now do as I say.”

  Morana stood beside Damien and a black bubble formed around them. She glared down at the young man. He’d cost her Connor’s good will, but at least she’d survived. Considering she was surrounded by monsters, that was something.

  They flew over the ruined city, down a tunnel and out into the sky half a mile from Port Valcane. Even with Connor’s speed it would take them half a day to return to the cavern. Damien groaned and tried to sit up.

  Disbelieving, Morana hit him with a blast from her urn. The boy collapsed again. How could he have recovered in less than an hour?

  She shook her head and kept the urn primed with dark soul force. Monsters, they were both monsters.

  Chapter 48

  Jen stood over the corpse of the man that led her father to his death. She’d hoped to feel some satisfaction when she avenged Dad’s murder, but the sight of the dead body just turned her stomach. Not that she regretted killing him, the man had been a psychopath of the first order. Killing him would have been a good service to the kingdom even if she hadn’t wanted to do it for her own reasons.

  Her gaze moved from Koran to Mayor Solomon, The Keeper of the Keys. She never would have guessed the man was a member of the Horned One’s cult. He’d had the reputation of being one of the least corrupt lord mayors in recent memory. The blood had almost dried on his shirt and the death stink was growing stronger by the second in the closed-up bedroom. Time to find Damien and Marie-Bell and get out of here. No way she could avoid anther visit with Tosh, but at least she didn’t have to shake hands with a bunch of local officials. Sometimes you had to take pleasure in the little things life handed you.

  She pushed the bedroom door open and stepped out into the empty hall. Considering everything that had happened this evening, Jen wouldn’t have been surprised if the only person in the mansion was the butler that led them into the trap. She frowned. Speaking of the butler, she’d need to have a chat with him, see what he knew about his master’s loyalties.

  Jen looked left and right. They’d taken so many twists and turns she had no idea where she’d ended up. A loud thump reverberated through the hall. Another followed soon after. Jen followed the sound, alert for more trouble. Four more blows rang out before she reached the section of corridor where the trap was sprung. An odd bulge had formed in one of the doors.

  Another crash was followed by the bent door slamming to the hall floor with a heavy steel plate on top of it. Marie-Bell stepped out into the hall, her hammer raised. She spotted Jen and lowered her weapon.

  “Are you okay?” they both said at the same moment.

  Jen smiled for the first time since she killed Koran and some of the pain melted out of her. “I’m fine.”

  “Me too.” Marie-Bell looked up and down the hall. “Where’s Damien?”

  “I have no idea. Can’t you sense his soul force?” Jen asked.

  Marie-Bell’s eyes went white and she spun a slow circle. Finally she shook her head. “I don’t sense him anywhere. He’s either miles away, being shielded from detection, or…”

  “Or dead?” Jen asked, her throat tight. He couldn’t be dead. Jen refused to believe she’d avenged her father only to lose her brother.

  Marie-Bell nodded. “I’m sorry. I wish there was something else I could do.”

  “I don’t suppose you sensed the butler?”

  Marie-Bell blinked. “I did detect a weak soul force deeper in the mansion. I ignored it since it couldn’t be Damien.”

  “Lead the way.”

  Jen followed Marie-Bell deeper into the mansion. She set a more direct course, confidently choosing a direction at each intersection. Their path followed monotonous, picture-lined hall after picture-lined hall. Finally Marie-Bell shoved open a door.

  The butler sat slumped in a simple leather chair that was dwarfed by the massive ballroom around him. He held a half-full glass of wine in his hand. Jen frowned when he didn’t look up. Even from a distance the butler’s heart sounded sluggish.

  She turned to Marie-Bell. “I think he poisoned himself. Can you heal him?”

  Marie-Bell rushed across the room and skidded to a stop beside the dying butler. She placed her hands on his chest and white light streamed into him. Jen held her breath until the butler drew a deep, trembling breath.

  Marie-Bell moved back away from him. “He’ll live. I read his aura and found nothing evil. He’s just a big, indifferent, gray blob. I’ve never encountered anything like it.”

  Jen joined Marie-Bell beside the butler. She didn’t especially care about the man’s aura. All she cared about was whether he could tell her what happened to her brother. The old man still looked half out of it.

  Jen slapped him hard across the face. His eyes popped open. “What?”

  “That got your attention, did it? Where’s my brother?”

  He groaned and the wine glass fell out of his hand to shatter on the floor. “Why didn’t you just let me die? I’m so very tired.”

  Her backhand snapped his head around. “You don’t get off that easy. Rest assured if you don’t answer my questions dying is still very much an option. Now where’s Damien?”

  He shrugged. “Gone, I assume. His capture was the whole point of this charade. I listened in on the planning, to better understand my role, simple as it was. They wanted to separate the three of you and keep you ladies busy long enough that you couldn’t help the boy. Since you’re here and he isn’t I guess it worked.”

  Jen snarled an obscenity. She’d been so intent on killing Koran she’d never even considered the whole point of him showing himself was so she’d chase him away from Damien. It had never been some elaborate trap to wear her down, he’d just wanted to keep her busy long enough for his masters to capture Damien. And she’d done exactly what they wanted. Her useless revenge had cost Jen her brother.

  “How were they planning to capture him?” Jen asked. It wasn’t like any ordinary person could overwhelm Damien.

  “I wasn’t privy to the details beyond what I just told you. The cult leader seemed confident her plan would succeed.”

  “Her plan. The redhead?”

  The butler nodded. “Mistress Morana did indeed have red hair once upon a time. I’m not entirely certain she’s even human any longer. She left for a time and when she returned her appearance had changed and she had an unnatural feeling around her. Everyone had always been cautious around her, but now it was like walking across burning coals, you never knew when you might get burned.”

  “Can you describe the changes?” Marie-Bell asked.

  Jen whirled around. “Who cares?”

  “If he describes the changes I may be able to figure out what has happened to her and what sort of creature we’re dealing with. If we have to rescue Damien, it would be useful to know what we’re up against.” Marie-Bell spoke in a calm, soothing voice.

  Jen took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Marie-Bell was right of course. Jen couldn't let her emotions overwhelm her again. She should know better, acting on emotion had allowed Damien to get captured in the first place.

  “Well, what about it?” Jen asked.

  T
he butler sighed. “Her skin grew paler, and black veins became visible under the surface. She no longer ate or drank anything that I saw, and her red hair turned limp and black.”

  Marie-Bell chewed her lip. “She’s become a warlock. There’s no doubt of that. The question is has she become a true warlock or a subordinate one.”

  “What’s the difference?” Jen asked.

  “A true warlock has made a deal directly with a demon lord and a subordinate one has gained the use of a true warlock’s power. A subordinate warlock is far weaker than a true warlock.”

  “You can bet your last royal that she’s the weaker one. I doubt Connor Blackman is the sort to risk one of his servants becoming as powerful as he is. Where did she attack my brother?”

  “The catacombs.” The butler appeared to have resigned himself to answering all their questions.

  “How do we get there?” Jen asked.

  “There’s a hidden passage in the basement or you can jump down the trapdoor in the hall. That’s the way your brother went.”

  “We’ll take the stairs,” Marie-Bell said. “Lead the way.”

  Chapter 49

  In the light of Marie-Bell’s hammer Jen gaped at the massive space under the mansion, under the city really. The cavern clearly covered far more than a single acre. At the bottom of the hidden staircase they’d followed a short tunnel that emerged on a level area above the floor of the main cavern. Steep stairs had been carved into the cavern wall, allowing easy access to the rest of the chamber. Though they hadn’t taken time to confirm it Jen wouldn’t have been the least surprised to discover the tunnels they found earlier connected to this space. It was a maze filled with rats. She devoutly hoped that the rats showed themselves. Her anger needed an outlet.