The Soulstoy Inheritance (Beatrice Harrow Series Book 2)

by Jane Washington

  “The next rule,” I decided, “is to shout the first word that comes to mind.”

  When the cards were dealt, I found myself woefully bereft of the right card, and the shouted, “Winner!” that came from Teddy had everyone groaning.

  “What word would you have shouted, Lady Queen?” Teddy asked me, refilling his glass.

  “Hot,” I decided, as I felt rather than saw Harbringer shift to my right.

  Three sets of eyes swung to me, and Teddy muttered, “Interesting,” with a chuckle.

  “Very interesting,” added Sweet, a spark in his eye that hadn’t been there before.

  “Mine would have also been hot.” Quick smiled, and when his eyes flicked to me, I followed his gaze downward, only now remembering my shift.

  “And mine is bedtime,” Harbringer grumbled. “Now.” He pulled me from my seat, draping the coat over me amid the sudden laughter of the other three, as if they had expected such a response.

  “Goodnight, Lady Queen.” Quick rose—true to his name—and caught my hand, pressing a kiss to my fingers before Harbringer drew me away. “Sleep tonight bereft of the wild dogs that chase you along these walls.”

  I smiled at them all lopsidedly, embarrassed at my slip, but unable to really feel it as Harbringer drew me back out into the cold. It was harder to get down the ladder in my inebriated state, and he had to sling me over his shoulder, but he set me back onto my feet once we reached the bottom, and started to pull my coat closed. I brushed his fingers away, liking the cool air on my skin, and he sighed, taking my arm and marching me back to the castle. Our progress to my chambers was blessedly unheeded, and once there, Harbringer looked at me skeptically, as if trying to understand what to do with me.

  “I warned you not to ever run off without me again,” he said, as I shrugged out of the coat and moved to the dresser, sitting on the stool to confront the mess my hair had become.

  “I wish I were still afraid of you enough to obey,” I said, almost cheerfully, as I began to untangle the braid.

  “Why?” He hovered behind me, a dark, brooding presence in my mirror.

  “Because then we wouldn’t have felt like equals. And what you said wouldn’t have hurt so much.”

  “You jumped to the worst conclusion, Harrow, and wouldn’t give me time to explain.”

  A faint, flowering hope sprung up in my chest, but I pushed it down, unwilling to be crushed again. I spun on the stool, abandoning my hair, and then I stood up.

  “When I see these synfees, most of the time, I can forget that it’s what they are. They seem so human to me, Joseph. Is that only because I am one of them? I know what it is like to be drawn to someone without wanting it. Nareon used to compel me all the time, have you forgotten? I’m horrified at the thought that I might do that to people.”

  There was a look of surprise on his face that I couldn’t place. I though back over what I had said. Did I just call him Joseph?

  “It’s not that significant, certainly not enough to alter a person’s feelings… unless…”

  I took a step closer, feeling as if my whole world hung on the balance of that small word. Unless.

  “Unless that person was already affected by you, in a significant way.”

  I furrowed my brow. “I don’t understand.”

  “When you’re not guarding yourself so closely, I see these strange glimpses of brilliance, like something small coming to life beneath a sudden, bright light. It’s always over so quickly that I can’t really be sure it was ever there, but it leaves me inexplicably breathless and drawn to you.”

  “I don’t understand,” I repeated dumbly. “Do you think that it’s the synfee in me?”

  “Possibly, but like I said, it’s not significant enough to alter any person’s opinion of you. Most people wouldn’t even see it, unless they knew you well.”

  “Well…” I clutched my fingers before me, beginning to wonder if I had overreacted by running off in the first place, my head swimming with drunkenness and relief. “That’s not so bad, I suppose.”

  He chuckled, “not for you, maybe. But it makes my job a whole lot harder.”

  “How?”

  “I gave Hazen my word that I wouldn’t kiss you again, not while I was your Professor, not while you were under my protection.”

  I felt something, but wasn’t sure if it were anger or sorrow.

  “You kissed me again,” I stated, perhaps unnecessarily, “so you have broken your word. What’s done is done.” I tried to keep the accusation out of my voice, but from his expression, I failed.

  “I can still stop it from happening again.”

  I felt that spark again, and recognised it for the alarm that it was.

  “Could you?” I moved closer to him, knowing that I couldn’t be that appealing, with my half-tamed hair and weak knees, but being pushed by my own panic anyway. Panic that Harbringer would slip away from me, as everyone else had. “Even if I dazzle you again?”

  He stared down at me and then suddenly groaned. “I’ll be done for, Bea. Just don’t.”

  And then he spun on his heel and disappeared into the dressing room.

  Chapter Six

  You Can Run, But You Can’t Die

  “Wake up, little synfee!”

  The familiar voice had my eyes blinking open and my heart jerking in my chest before my mind had even fully comprehended to whom it belonged. When Cale’s face swam into focus, I flung back the covers and launched myself at him, hugging him tightly.

  “Whoa… If I’d known I’d get this kind of reception, I’d have come earlier.” He laughed, spinning me around and then setting me on my feet again.

  “I’m so happy to see you,” I said. “You have no idea.”

  He grinned, and I moved back into my dressing room, grabbing the coat that I had hung up the night before and slipping it around my shoulders before knocking on the door separating my room from Harbringer’s. He appeared after only a moment, his hair tousled and a sheet clutched around his hips. I gaped at him, until he arched an eyebrow, and I remembered what I was there for.

  “Cale’s here,” I snapped, spinning on my heel to retreat back into the other room.

  Cale was still smiling, and I couldn’t help it, I found myself smiling in return, though my dread from the day before was beginning to creep back in. His familiar brown hair, so matched by the calming warmth of his eyes, was tamed into an immaculate style. His usual simple way of dressing had been abandoned, replaced by a court-style overcoat and twine pants, embroidered with the red and gold colours of Hazen’s soldiers. Perhaps he had been given a position on the King’s Guard with his father.

  “How bad is it?” I asked him, moving out into the sitting room.

  “It isn’t great, Bea.” He followed me in just as there was a knock on the door and a pretty, younger girl appeared, carrying a tray.

  I was grateful when Cale took it from her, as I still wasn’t used to being waited upon. He set it onto the table before us and I grabbed a slice of thick bread, lightly toasted with a sprinkling of honey, and began to pick at it while I waited for Cale to close the door and elaborate. Harbringer came through the bedchamber then, blessedly dressed. He swiped a slice of toast, and lowered himself into a chair, giving Cale a casual nod.

  “Sekron, how are you holding up?”

  Cale’s face seemed to fall slightly at the question, and then he gathered himself, sitting with me on the chaise and dropping an arm over my shoulders.

  “Better. Hazen’s been keeping me busy, and he hardly has time to sleep, let alone worry. Rose is getting the worst of it, because she has nothing to do, and she really misses you, Bea,” he said, turning to me as he gave my shoulder a squeeze.

  I felt tears beginning to prickle, and I blinked quickly, dispelling them.

  “What have they done with my father?”

  “Hazen held off on the ceremony until he could get the advisor council to allow you to attend. That’s why I’m here, to discuss the terms of you
r presence in the kingdom until your trial.”

  “What about Harbringer?”

  “That ties into it.”

  Harbringer sat up then, very suddenly, and both Cale and I turned to stare at him. His eyes were on Cale, and they seemed to be communicating silently. He nodded once, and then turned on his heel, striding toward the door and yanking it open.

  “I’ll be back,” he said, eyes considering me with some emotion that I couldn’t read, before he disappeared, slamming the door behind him.

  I stared at the door, dumbfounded, and then finally turned back to Cale. There was a distinctly guilty look upon his handsome face.

  “He’s not coming back, is he?”

  Cale sighed, slumping back into his seat and running a hand through his hair, making the ends stick up.

  “It was one of the terms to putting off your trial until we could gather more evidence. Harbringer had to go on trial immediately.”

  “What?” I shot out of my seat, and hurried toward the door, but Cale was faster, and he was in front of me in an instant, blocking my exit.

  “Harbringer can look after himself, Bea. It’s you we need to worry about.”

  “How can you say that!” It wasn’t a question, it was an accusation. “He has been implicated every bit as much as I have, if I went on trial right now I’d be ruined, wouldn’t I?”

  Cale nodded, glumly.

  “Well how does that make it any safer for Harbringer?”

  “Do you really not see it, little synfee? Joseph was highly favoured by Fenrel, he is the hero of the revolts, and he’s loved or idolised by almost everybody in the kingdom, he’ll be fine. You…”

  He didn’t have to say anymore, I got the picture. I slumped back to my seat and fell into it, a pounding beginning at the base of my skull.

  “I’m a monster. A flesh-eating, soul-sucking, walking-natural-disaster of a monster.”

  He frowned and moved to sit next to me, grabbing my hands.

  “You’re an unknown and they fear you. Hazen doesn’t have an overruling vote when his advisor council is unanimously against him, and even so, it wouldn’t be wise for him to go against them at such an early point in his initiation. He has to tread carefully, and this is the best way he can do it.”

  Something occurred to me then. “Do you think he’s watching now?”

  “They’re keeping him very busy, but I don’t doubt it.”

  “So what do I do until my trial?”

  “Master Savar has pulled some strings—he has an obscene amount of influence with the council—he wants you to attend the Academy again. He convinced them it’ll be just as beneficial for them to study you and the workings of your powers, as it will be for you to once again be surrounded by human society, as opposed to…”

  I nodded. “So I’m going back to the Academy? That doesn’t seem so bad.”

  “You’ll be given a Black Guard escort to and from the border, and they will most likely assign someone to follow you to and from classes.”

  “The Black Guard? Wouldn’t they have more important things to do?”

  “Right now, you are the biggest threat our kingdom is facing. You are a potential mastermind assassin, ingraining yourself into the lives of the royal family and then slipping through their defenses to murder the king. In such—albeit rare—situations, a larger plan is always at work. Your ties to the synfee kingdom suggest something akin to an invasion.”

  “Good news for the kingdom then. There is no larger plan, and I’m their greatest threat.”

  “Perhaps.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “What aren’t you telling me, Cale?”

  He released my hands, standing up and beginning to pace in front of me.

  “We think this was all planned, right down to you coming here and possibly even you being placed on the throne.”

  “You think Nareon is behind it?”

  “Nareon, Fenrel, and God knows who else. Or perhaps just one person, one architect, pulling each of their strings. I really don’t know. But it’s glaringly obvious that someone meant for us to direct our attention toward you, and maybe even the Synfee Empire.”

  “Should I call Nareon in?”

  Cale paused, flicked his eyes over me and then exhaled heavily. “So it’s true then? I was hoping Hazen had hallucinated it all.”

  “No, it’s true.”

  “Hazen told me to tell you to keep him out of this world as much as possible.”

  “I think it’s a little too late for that,” I said, holding up my bracelet for him to see. “He went and got this, without me calling him. He can appear in a totally different kingdom, and still physically interact with things, and it’s only been a matter of days.”

  “He’s drawing his life from somewhere, we need to figure out how before he comes back from the damn dead.”

  “Isn’t that a bit like killing him, all over again?”

  “What if he’s killing people right now, to gain his strength, Bea?”

  I paused, feeling a wave of nausea. “Alright, I’ll do my best.”

  He strode forward, grasped my hands again and squeezed them. “I have to go now, they only gave me an hour. Tomorrow is Monday, so if you agree to the terms, there will be a contingent waiting in the clearing past the border for you. If we’re lucky, Harbringer will be back at his post, but he won’t be able to openly communicate with you, not until this whole thing is over. I hope you understand.”

  “I understand. Will he say that I compelled him to do it? That’s probably his best defense.”

  “No, he’ll say that Fenrel assigned him to your protection, which everybody already knows to be true. He’ll say that he didn’t realise the king had been killed, he merely moved you to the synfee border when you told him you were in danger.”

  “That’ll work too.”

  “Yes, we hope so.”

  I hugged him again, tightly, and watched with tears threatening to spill over the line of my lower lashes as he left the room.

  “Be safe!” I called out as the door closed, and then moved into my dressing room, curling up into a ball to sob quietly.

  That was where Gretal found me, an hour later. She coaxed me out, and dressed me in a simple, white court dress. It had only one skirt layer, and the half-sleeves and square neckline were without fringing. I nodded, approving her choice, and let her braid my hair so that it hung over my left shoulder.

  “Harbringer’s gone,” I told her, once she was done.

  Her hands froze, and she shot a glance toward my dressing room.

  “Gone, Lady?”

  “You have to start calling me Bea, I can’t stand these titles anymore, Gretal.”

  “Where did he go?”

  “The condition of putting my trial off was to have his trial straight away. But Cale thinks that all of this was planned in advance. What if Harbringer’s trial is part of it? What if something terrible is about to happen to him?”

  “He’s Joseph Harbringer, sweetheart, I don’t think you need to worry about him.”

  “Do you really believe that, Gretal?”

  “I do. Now what are you going to do today?”

  “I think it’s time to find out what the Throne Test is, and get a High Council into place. I don’t know how the kingdom has been running itself for the last few days, but I’m sure some kind of decision will need to be made soon, and I’m simply not equipped to make it.”

  “I think that will be wise.”

  She gave my shoulder a pat, and I rose from the vanity, pulling on a pair of plain slippers to match my dress, and then I began my search of the castle to track down Grenlow. I found him by the front gates to the outer courtyard, talking to another soldier. They both fell silent as I came near and Grenlow smiled, while the other man dropped into a quick bow.

  “How are you today, Lady?” Grenlow asked.

  I thought about my night before, and wondered why I wasn’t sick, and then I remembered that I’d let Sweet kiss me, and I almost
tripped over my own feet, before gathering myself.

  “Fine thank you, Grenlow. I think it’s time to convene a High Council.”

  He seemed pleased, and led me back into the castle, muttering random instructions to people as we passed. Grenlow was neither imposing in height nor stature, yet when he passed, people edged away from him. His gestures were thin, lacking in aplomb, yet they were never missed. When he beckoned, a servant or soldier would hurry forward, and when he gestured away, they would scramble out of proximity. I gathered that he was assembling the people he thought would be most beneficial for the Council, or perhaps those that were already on it. I wondered if I should call on Nareon, but then pushed the idea aside. I needed to start thinking for myself. Even though Nareon wouldn’t actively try to hurt me, I knew that his version of what would be best for me didn’t always coincide with my own.

  Once back in the council meeting room and seated at the round table with Grenlow, I was awarded the opportunity of undisturbed observation as each person paraded in. Unsurprisingly, the first two were Cereen and Rohan—the latter of who did a fantastic job of ignoring me, and the former an even better job of deigning to grant me a flick of raven hair and a flash of green-eyed condescension. The third was a blonde woman whom I recognised as someone I had seen before with Nareon. She was typically beautiful, even beneath her synfee perfection, with a ruby pout and a haughty posture. Grenlow introduced her as Ayleth, Nareon’s former—and favoured—advisor.

  Ayleth gave me a curtsy that somehow managed to be mocking, with a smile that only drove her point home deeper, and then she sat directly across from me at the table, beside Cereen.

  Great, I thought, now they can start a club.

  The next to walk through was a tall man with plaited black hair, a flashing gold tooth, and golden rings scattered about his fingers, reminding me of Quick.

  “This is Dain, he has been treasurer of the Synfee Empire for centuries now.”

  Dain swept himself into a bow, gave Ayleth a wink, and slid himself into a chair, drawing the scowl of the next man to walk through the door. He was the kind of synfee beautiful that still managed to look savage, though in reality he didn’t resemble a synfee at all. There wasn’t a single golden thing about him, and even the tan of his skin was more of a dusky brown than a golden brown. He had dark violet hair with matching irises, and his shirt hung half open over patched trousers and scuffed boots. There were twin swords swinging from his hips, and when he smiled, I couldn’t help but notice how sharp his incisors were.