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

by James Wisher

  Imogen noticed him leaning against the wall and smiled. “How long was I out?”

  Damien shrugged. “Hard to tell underground. A while.”

  “Sorry to keep you sitting around. Were you bored?”

  The corner of his mouth twitched. “I found a way to pass the time. More importantly, how are you?” Her core was full and her soul force flow looked correct, but he wanted to hear it from her.

  She climbed out of the water and posed for him, water dripping off her. “I’m good. In fact I haven’t felt this good in ages. It was nice of the druids to share it with us.”

  Damien nodded and tossed her the towel Leah had given them before they started down the tunnel. “Too bad the others didn’t want to come along.”

  She snorted and dried her legs. “Fainthearted, every one of them. I expected better of Lon at the very least. Still, I don’t mind having a little time alone with you. Especially now that you and the princess are officially through.”

  Damien gestured and her crimson tunic floated up from the floor. “We don’t want to overstay our welcome.”

  She flashed a wicked grin. “Another fainthearted sorcerer. Later then.”

  While she dressed Damien pushed himself off from the wall and stood up. His back popped when he straightened. How long had he been sitting there? Damien stuck his head out into the tunnel. Not a soul around. He hadn’t really expected anybody. This part of the temple wasn’t used often.

  Imogen hugged him from behind and kissed his ear. “I’m dressed. Happy now?”

  Relieved might have been a better word, but he kept that thought to himself. “Let’s say our goodbyes and head for home. Maybe we can help hunt down some cultists.”

  Her arms tightened around him. “I’d like that. Those bastards need to pay for what they did to me and the others.”

  Chapter 53

  Damien and Imogen stepped out into the bright morning light. The clean smell of growing things filled the air. After caverns and demons it was a refreshing change. The village was nearly empty, but he spotted Leah standing in her rumpled brown and green robe a little ways to the left of the entrance. She smiled and waved them over.

  “Thanks again for letting us use the pool,” Damien said. “I’d hoped to thank the wise one in person, but we couldn’t find him.”

  “Yes,” Imogen said. “I’ve never felt so energized.”

  Leah bowed her head. “The wise one is in communion with the earth force, trying to figure out how to set the ley line back to its proper position. When he emerges I’ll pass on your thanks.”

  She dug around in her robe pockets, finally coming up with a small strip of paper. “A bird of glowing energy brought this for you. It seemed unable to enter the temple and after several attempts vanished, leaving the paper behind.”

  Damien accepted it with a nod of thanks. Imogen read over his shoulder. The archmage’s agents had spotted the female warlock in Port Valcane. She had the urn with her and his master wanted Damien to handle her capture.

  That made sense. One on one they were equally matched. With Imogen’s help he shouldn’t have any trouble. There was an address where they were to meet the sorcerer in charge of rounding up the remaining cultists.

  “Vacation’s over.” Damien glanced back at Imogen. “Ready to return to work?”

  She bared her teeth. “More than ready.”

  Damien bowed to Leah. “Thanks again.”

  “Feel free to visit anytime. The druids you saved are doing well now that they’re free of Eleck’s influence.”

  He nodded and hurtled into the air with Imogen. When they were fifty feet high Damien said, “Think you can keep up?”

  “I was about to ask you the same thing.” She shot west at a good clip. Damien grinned and raced after her.

  It took them an hour and change to make the flight. Imogen’s power remained steady and strong the whole way. Damien didn’t go full blast, instead letting her set the pace. Imogen probably wouldn’t appreciate anything resembling gentle treatment, but why push her so soon after her healing?

  It was just noon when they landed outside a two-story tavern called The Hungry Carp. The building sat in a quiet neighborhood, neither rich or poor, near the city center. Damien glanced left and right at the people coming and going from their lunch break. It couldn’t have been a more ordinary setting.

  “Is this the right place?” he asked.

  “It’s the address she provided and the tavern name is the same.” Imogen looked up at the carving of a fat carp over the door. “Let’s see if he’s here.”

  She pushed the door open and stepped inside. Damien shrugged and followed. The inside looked like a checkerboard as the windows cast patches of light and shadow.

  “There you are!” A fat bearded man stood up and rushed over. He kissed Imogen on the cheek. “I’ve been waiting for you. Please, let’s have a seat.”

  He wasn’t a sorcerer, that was clear at a glance. Why had Damien thought the chief sorcerer would meet them himself? The poor guy probably had plenty to do with hunting down all the cultists that escaped.

  Imogen wiped her cheek off and they followed him to a table in the corner well away from all the others. When they’d settled in he waved over a barmaid. “Drinks for my friends.”

  The haggard woman nodded and headed for the bar. When she’d gone their new best friend said, “We expected you sooner. Is everything all right?”

  Imogen nodded. “We were indisposed for a while. We got here as quick as we could.”

  The agent looked from Imogen to Damien and back. “It doesn’t really matter. Our mutual acquaintance has settled in at the Drowned Rat. She started drinking last night and hasn’t moved or stopped since.”

  The barmaid returned with three mugs of ale. The agent tossed her a royal, swatted her on the ass, and sent her on her way. He took a long pull and continued in a low voice. “She made no effort to avoid being spotted. We feared a trap so sent for reinforcements. The artifact is sitting on the table beside her. Take a drink for heaven’s sake. You both look like someone died. We’re trying to blend in here.”

  “Someone did die,” Damien said, his voice low but hard. “Lots of someones, many because of her. Tell us how to get to the Drowned Rat and we’ll take care of it.”

  The agent shrunk away from him and took another drink of his ale. “It’s down near the docks. We’ve turned away everyone coming and going so you can’t miss it. Try and be gentle. A solid kick to a support column might bring the place down around your ears.”

  Damien and Imogen stood up.

  “We’ll keep that in mind.” Imogen leaned in so their faces were only inches apart. “If you ever kiss me again I’ll rip your tongue out.”

  She patted his cheek and straightened up. They left the tavern and took to the sky. Half a minute later Damien sensed the warlock’s corrupt soul force. It felt weaker, even from a distance.

  “Do you feel it?”

  Imogen nodded. “She’s different than before. We should still be careful in case she’s hiding her true power.”

  Damien kept his relief from reaching his face. He’d had visions of her rushing in like she did back at Connor’s base. She seemed to have her self-destructive impulses under control. Thank heaven for that.

  Chapter 54

  The Drowned Rat was every bit as run down as the agent had implied. From the room to the steps, everything slumped. An actual dead rat hung by its tail to the right of the door. Damien shuddered, they might catch something just from looking at the place.

  “What a dump.” Imogen summarized the tavern perfectly.

  “Morana’s the only one in there.”

  “Agreed. How do you want to handle this?”

  “I’ll go in the front and draw her lightning. You hit her from behind.”

  Imogen nodded and slipped around the back of the tavern. If there wasn’t a door she could always make one. Damien counted slowly to thirty, drew Lizzy, and kicked the door down.

/>   Morana sat at a table, a mug in one hand and a pitcher beside her. The shiny black urn rested at her elbow on the table. She made no move to grab it.

  She drained her mug and slammed it down. “I figured they’d send you. No one else has the guts to approach while I have this.” She patted the urn.

  “I don’t suppose you want to hand it over and come along quietly?”

  She snatched the urn off the table and hurled it at him. Damien snagged it out of the air and set it beside him. “Thank you?”

  “Might as well invite your friend to join us. Make sure she doesn’t touch any of the knives in the kitchen. They’re liable to give her tetanus.”

  “It’s okay, Imogen. Doesn’t look like we’re going to have a fight after all.”

  Imogen emerged from the kitchen surrounded by golden armor, a matching ax floating at her side. The warlock looked back at her. “You look familiar. Did I capture you?”

  “Yes. Me and two others. I’d like to kill you for that, but the archmage wants you alive.”

  Morana barked a laugh. “You’re both out of luck. I’m already dead.”

  Damien sheathed Lizzy and sat across from her. “What do you mean?”

  “My soul force is slowly draining and with Connor dead it won’t regenerate. At the rate it’s going I’d say I have two, maybe three days left. I couldn’t use that damned urn on you if I wanted to.” She grabbed the pitcher and poured herself another mug. “Have a drink with a dying woman?”

  “I’d rather drink out of the bay.”

  She laughed and drained part of her mug. “So what happens now?”

  “Do you have family?” Damien asked.

  “My family’s all dead. Connor was all I had and now he’s dead too. Not that I have to tell you since you killed him.”

  “I didn’t. Connor allowed an avatar of the Horned One to enter his body. It burned him out. He sacrificed himself to his master for one last chance at victory.”

  She sniffed, half a laugh and half a sob. “That sounds like Connor.” She finally looked up and her crimson gaze met his. “What happens now?”

  “That’s up to you. We could sit here, enjoying this establishment’s fine wares while you tell us everything you know about the surviving cultists, or we can take you somewhere more pleasant and ask you in a less pleasant way.”

  She shrugged. “Don’t know much, but I’ll tell you what I do know in exchange for one thing.”

  “What?”

  Her lip trembled. “I don’t want to die alone. Will you stay until the end?”

  Damien reached out and patted her hand. It was ice cold. This poor woman, seduced, used, and ultimately betrayed by Connor Blackman. Once so fierce, she was more pathetic than anything now. She’d lost it all and despite everything she’d done Damien felt bad for her.

  “I will. I don’t suppose the owner has anything resembling a scroll and ink around here?”

  “I doubt it.”

  “Will you excuse us while we fetch some? I won’t be a minute.”

  Morana waved a hand and returned to her mug. Damien picked up the urn then he and Imogen slipped outside. When the door closed Imogen said, “Why are you being so nice to her? We should bring her in and rip what we need out of her screaming head.”

  “If we try to bring her in she’ll fight with every drop of soul force she’s got.”

  Imogen snorted. “I could take her in the shape she’s in now.”

  “I don’t doubt it, but didn’t you see she has no flow? Morana wasn’t lying about being unable to regenerate her power. When it’s gone she dies. Fight her and we get nothing. A little kindness buys us everything she knows. Not to mention, I feel bad for her. She’s lost everything.”

  “It’s no less than she deserves. I’ll fetch writing supplies then leave you to it. I can’t stand the sight of her.” Damien handed her the urn before she left.

  Chapter 55

  Damien went back in alone with a notebook and pencil. Morana looked up when the door closed. “Where’s your girlfriend?”

  “Imogen had other matters to attend to.” Damien sat down. “Shall we begin?”

  Morana talked for hours, a long rambling account of her work with the cult. Damien was curious about her past, but his time was limited so he kept his questions to the point.

  She didn’t know many of the small fry by name, but those she did know she gave up. He kept a constant watch on the flow of soul force in her brain and she never lied once. The sun had set and most of a keg of ale had been downed, all of it by her, when she finished her account. Morana didn’t look any more drunk than when they entered the first time.

  The light in her eyes flickered. When Damien checked her core he found it almost depleted. “I thought you had a day or two.”

  She sighed. “I’ve been using a trickle of power to heal the alcohol poisoning. I don’t care about lingering for another day.”

  The light in her eyes went out. “Are you still there?” she asked.

  “I am.” Damien held her hand.

  “Thank you for staying with me. It’s more than I deserve.”

  “It’s all right.”

  The last of her soul force flickered away and her hand went limp. Damien reached out and closed her eyes. Poor, deluded woman.

  He collected his notebook and pencil, conjured a little light, and left the building. Imogen met him a few feet from the stairs. “She’s dead?”

  Damien nodded and handed her the notebook. “There are seventeen names in there, not as many as I’d hoped. Will you see that the chief sorcerer gets this?”

  “Of course. What about you?”

  “I need to clear my head. Meet you at watch headquarters in an hour?”

  “Sure.” Imogen touched his arm then flew away.

  Damien sprang into the sky and flew out over the ocean.

  Why did you stay with her?

  “Can’t slip anything past you, can I?”

  Not a thing. Now talk.

  Damien lay on his back and stared up at the sky. “I told Lane once that Dad taught us to fight and kill without mercy or hesitation. And he did. All the masters hammered that into Jen and I for most of our lives. Over the last year and a half I’ve seen a lot, done a lot, killed, blasted, and destroyed. The only thing that kept me from turning into a monster like Connor was the occasional moments of kindness and knowing I had friends and family and someone I loved waiting for me.”

  Damien.

  “I didn’t stay with Morana for her sake. I did it to remind myself that I’m still human, still capable of showing kindness, even to an enemy. I fear what will happen to me if I ever lose that ability.”

  I won’t let that happen. I promise.

  “I know you won’t. That’s why I love you so much.”

  The moon danced amid the waves and sparkling stars. It was a beautiful night and Damien breathed deep of the cool salt air. It was a good night to be alive.

  Author Notes

  And so we reach the end of our story. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you’d like to get a free story telling more about how Lizzy went from flesh and blood demon to sword spirit please sign up for my newsletter. I promise no spam, I hate it too. Just a monthly newsletter and, if anything interesting, like a new release, happens between letters I’ll let you know. I end this note by thanking you very much for reading my story and with the hope that you will join me again when my next book is released.

  James

  Also by James E Wisher

  Other Books in the Disciples of the Horned One Trilogy:

  Darkness Rising

  Raging Sea and Trembling Earth

  A complete list of my books can be found at

  www.jamesewisher.com

  About the Author

  James E. Wisher is a writer of science fiction and fantasy novels. He’s been writing since high school and reading everything he could get his hands on for as long as he can remember. This is his ninth novel.


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