Soulbound

by Heather Brewer

  “Whatever. I’m just glad to be here finally. I was almost eaten by a Graplar.”

  Several of the surrounding guards took a sudden interest in our conversation. Their raised eyebrows and surprised glances told me without words what the guard in front of me soon confirmed. “You’re very lucky to be alive, miss.”

  I nodded, suddenly in need of a long nap. Who knew tromping through the woods and facing death could be so exhausting?

  “Are you injured?”

  I blinked at him, confused, but then I spied my hand, which was covered with dried blood. My face must have looked terrible. “No. It’s not my blood.”

  He nodded in understanding and asked, “How many Graplars were there?”

  “One. And then another one showed up after the first one was dead.”

  “And how did a Healer manage to take down two Graplars?” He grew quiet for a moment, somehow disturbed by the very idea that I could be anything more than a damsel in distress. Oh yeah, I was loving this place already. Not even in town a full day and I’d already had a near-death experience, and now I was being looked down on by the doorman.

  I thought for a minute, the image of my silver-haired hero filling my mind. It left a bittersweet taste in my mouth. What was that guy’s problem anyway? All I tried to do was take a look at his wound, to help him. It seemed only fair after he saved my life. Was it some Barron thing? Ugh. I would never understand Barrons—not even after being raised by two of them. “There was a…man. A young man. He killed it before it could get to me. He told me to run when we heard the second one coming.”

  The guard furrowed his brow, then pulled back his sleeve, revealing a mark on his skin, which looked suspiciously like a tattoo. But it wasn’t a tattoo—it was his Trace, the mark of a Barron. His was a black crescent, which meant that his Soulbound Healer had died. I’d seen my parents’ Traces a thousand times before—both black. My parents had said that Traces were silver when they were born and turned red once they’d spent time with their Soulbound Healer. I’d never seen a red one before, and couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to see one on someone whose Healer was still with them. Jolting me out of my thoughts, he said, “Did he have a Trace? Like this one here? Did you see one of these anywhere on his body?”

  I shook my head. “No. But he had silver hair.”

  He sighed, looking over his shoulder at another guard. “Better go find him. I’m sure the headmaster will want to hear what really happened.”

  I tensed, insulted. Apparently my word wasn’t good enough.

  Turning back to me, he said, “Let’s get you something to eat. And…you want to clean up a bit before meeting the headmaster?”

  The last sentence came out awkwardly, as if he were not used to dealing with the female persuasion much. “That would be nice.”

  He led me inside one of the turrets in the wall by the gate. The room was clearly fashioned to be a soldiers’ break room, but at the moment the chairs surrounding the small table beckoned to me as the greatest comfort. I sat and the guard, whose name I hadn’t learned—how strange that everyone seemed to know my name, but never offered their own—rummaged through some baskets on the counter and carried what he’d found over to the table that I was leaning my weary head on. He dropped a large wedge of cheese, half a loaf of bread, and three apples in front of me. I looked up at him—what did he think I was, a starving army? As if puzzled by my stare, he furrowed his brow again. Then he pulled a dagger from his side, stabbing it into the wood of the table. He smiled proudly. “For the cheese.”

  I smiled weakly, but gratefully, in return. “Can I just have some water, please? To wash up with?”

  He stood there for a moment. Then in a flash, he’d moved to the fireplace in the corner and removed the kettle, pouring some of the boiling water into a bowl. He grabbed a jug from the floor and poured in cool water as well, testing it with his fingers until the temperature seemed right. After a short search, he placed a towel and washcloth on the counter, next to the bowl. I thanked him on his way out the door, both for the water and for privacy.

  Washing my face and hands, I turned the water in the bowl a rust color. Then I picked as much of the broken bits of twigs and weeds from my clothes as I could. From what I glanced in the water’s reflection, my hair was tangled, so I did my best to comb it out with my fingers, but it was fairly hopeless. I was going to have to face facts: I was going meet the headmaster with messy hair and scraped palms. My clothes were covered with blood and mud, but there was nothing I could do about that now. I tidied up as best as I could, and munched on an apple until the guard came back. By the light in his eyes, he seemed really pleased that I’d eaten at least some of what he’d brought me. “If you’re ready now, Headmaster Quill would very much like to meet you.”

  I was less enthusiastic about that meeting than I was sure he was. Mostly because the headmaster struck me as a really charming guy. If by “really charming guy,” one meant “total dek.”

  The guard nodded and opened the door wider, ducking out of the way. A short, squat man waddled into the room, concern creasing his forehead. Headmaster Quill, I presumed. He didn’t appear nearly as threatening as his letter had implied. He had a balding head and small, square spectacles perched on the end of his nose. He looked way too much like an old, chubby bookbinder and not at all like the tyrant my imagination had dreamed up. “My dear girl, are you all right? Raden told me that you were attacked by a Graplar. You must be terrified.”

  Shrugging, I tried to play it off, like it was no big deal. Just a giant blue monster that tried to eat me. I can handle it. Didn’t run away screaming or anything. “I was, but now I’m just glad to be here. And I don’t know if it matters, but there were two.”

  His eyes widened immediately, disbelief obviously filling his features. Apparently, nobody here thought I was remotely capable of taking care of myself. “Two? How on earth did you manage to escape?”

  I shrugged again. I was so tired; I really didn’t feel like going over this again. All I wanted was a soft bed to sleep in. Maybe some hot-pepper chocolate. And a book to lose myself in.

  The door swung open and in walked my silver-haired hero, dragging my trunk behind him. In the light I got a better look at him. His lips were pressed together in a thin, determined line. His eyes sparkled and his skin was flushed—it was easy to see how much he enjoyed the thrill of the kill. Despite my irritation at his reaction to me, I couldn’t help but confirm my former thinking—this man was utterly beautiful. Almost too pretty to be real.

  The front of his shirt was now covered in blood, and I was betting that only a little of it belonged to the Graplar. He dropped my trunk on the floor and said, “I can answer that for you, Headmaster.”

  Headmaster Quill darted his squinty eyes to the newcomer and sighed. “Ah. Of course. Meet me in my office in fifteen minutes for a debriefing, if you would.”

  With a nod, my savior turned and walked back out the door, without so much as a glance in my general direction. My stomach shriveled a little, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d done something wrong.

  The headmaster was quiet for a long while and, just as I’d become convinced that he was never going to speak again, he said, “Well, it’s a good thing he found you when he did, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

  He said it was a good thing, but his tone, his eyes, his posture—everything, really—said that it wasn’t. Though I had no idea what could be so bad about having a skilled fighter pop out of nowhere to save me from being something’s midnight snack. Maybe my hero wasn’t allowed outside the walls. Or maybe he’d been up to no good. Whatever it was, I was grateful for his presence. Even if the headmaster wasn’t.

  “Now, Kaya, if you’re ready, I’ll escort you to the dormitory.” He nodded toward the door and after a moment, cleared his throat. The kindness in his eyes shifted and for a second, I saw the man behind the polite exterior, the man who’d written to me and threatened my parents’
lives if I didn’t comply.

  A guard held the door open for us, but said nothing. I reached for my trunk, but the headmaster shook his head. “I’ll have it brought to your room.”

  He stepped outside and I followed, wondering briefly if I would ever set foot outside that wall again. The walk across campus was cool and dark. Not to mention utterly silent. Several windows of what appeared to be dorm buildings were lit up, but the grounds were empty. As if to explain, the headmaster said, “Curfew has passed.”

  As I moved deeper inside the surrounding outer wall, it felt like every step I took was farther away from my parents, further away from my old life. And no matter how much it hurt, I couldn’t stop my feet from moving forward. In order to protect them, in order to do whatever I could to help stop another Graplar attack on Kessler from destroying any more innocent lives, I had to leave everything, including them, behind.

  “I want to thank you for coming to Shadow Academy, Kaya.”

  Thank me. Because I was clearly doing him a big favor by trying to protect my parents. It wasn’t like I had much choice in the matter, but…whatever.

  “Your parents were wise to send you.”

  Remembering their anguished faces as the wagon had pulled away from our cabin, I met the headmaster’s gaze and said, “I would do anything for them.”

  He nodded, his eyes darkening some, as if I didn’t have a choice in the matter. And I didn’t. Not really. “Tell me, Kaya. How much have your parents taught you about the war?”

  “Some,” I lied. In truth, they hadn’t really spoken openly about the war until the letter arrived, and even then, they only muttered a few sketchy details. What I did know was that they didn’t much care about whatever the squabble was between the Barrons and whoever they were at war with. So it really was no surprise that I had little idea what the headmaster was flapping his jaws about as we crossed the campus grounds.

  “Your parents are skilled Barrons. They both fought valiantly in the first battle at Wood’s Cross. It was a shame to lose them.” He paused then, and it was a pause full of meaning. We kept walking, and when I fell behind by a few steps, I noticed a red crescent moon on the back of the headmaster’s neck, peeking out of his collar. His Soulbound Healer, it seemed, was alive and well.

  My parents had been loyal to the cause. They’d fought valiantly in the war. But after losing their Soulbound Healers, they’d fallen in love, and chose that love over the war, and over what had been expected of them as Barrons. It was the right thing to do, despite what the headmaster might think. He could pause all he wanted to, look at me however he liked, but it didn’t change the fact that he and the Zettai Council were condemning my parents for all the wrong reasons.

  “But what’s important now is that their union produced a Healer.” He looked hesitant for a moment, as if the subject of me being a Healer were a sensitive one. Sensitive, or unfortunate, I couldn’t tell which. “You see, Kaya, we are in the midst of a terrible war. A war brought to us by King Darrek and his damned Graplars. He has an immense army on his side, oh yes, but the prevailing threat is that he’s trained his Graplars to rid our population of Healers. He believes that by doing so, he can lessen our Barron numbers. Darrek may be completely mad, but he is also crafty in the most dangerous way.”

  I had no idea who or what Darrek was, but my throat dried instantly and I backpedaled, sputtering. “Rid…you mean those things are specifically hunting Healers?”

  He nodded slowly. “It’s really quite the dilemma.”

  My eyes snapped back to him at his casual tone. He spoke of it like someone had just spilled milk on the floor and there were no clean rags to speak of—not at all like those monsters were seeking out Healers…Healers like me…and killing them. And apparently that wasn’t a big deal. Just a minor annoyance, really.

  “Barrons, as you surely know, are able to withstand more blows and pain than any Unskilled person could ever imagine.”

  Oh, I knew, all right. I’d watched my dad sew his own stitches without as much as a wince. I saw my mom set a broken bone with a stream of curse words, but a surgeon’s touch. The pain hadn’t even made her flinch. Barrons were tough. Me, I almost pass out when I get a splinter.

  The expression on the headmaster’s face changed slightly, as if he knew what I was thinking. “But they are not immortal. With the aid of their Healer and through the blessing of their bond, Barrons can be healed from any wound that they endure, even brought back from the brink of death in a matter of moments. And this is why Healers are being exterminated. Because only through you and your kind can Barrons go on fighting the Graplars and Darrek’s armies. You’re a threat to his greedy plans to dominate all of Tril, because through Healers, Barrons have the power to stop him.”

  I pictured my parents fighting for a cause they didn’t believe in, watching as those they were Soulbound to had perished. I snapped, “Why should they go on fighting? I mean, if they don’t want to…”

  The headmaster sighed, as if he were losing his patience with me already. A shame—I hadn’t even gotten around to telling him how I really felt about this whole mess. About leaving my family and friends, about being forced into attending a school that supported a war I could give a fak about. But something told me he wasn’t the least bit curious about those things.

  “This is not a history class, Kaya. I tell you these things so that you will see what a blessing it is to have you here. Of the three training academies, Shadow Academy has been hit hardest by Darrek’s efforts. As such, we have the highest population of Bound couples, and the lowest population of Soulbound couples. Your Barron is anxiously awaiting your arrival. Study well, and practice your skills, because he will need you to survive.”

  Great. No pressure or anything. Clearing my throat, I looked down at my hands for a moment. “So, when will I meet this Barron I’m supposed to be Bound to?”

  “Your Barron.”

  No. Not my Barron. Not the Barron I was Soulbound to. Not the Barron I had been born to heal. He’d died several months ago. I knew, because the headmaster had said so in his letter to me. It hurt. Without reason or sense, it hurt, like a piece of my soul had just withered into dust.

  I’d known I was Soulbound, of course—my parents had explained to me at a very young age that all Healers and Barrons were born attached to another, that I was Soulbound to someone, somewhere, and that eventually we would find our way to one another. Nothing could stop that. The bond was too great to resist. But their explanations hadn’t meant very much to me until I read the headmaster’s words: “It is with deepest regrets that I must inform you that the Barron to whom you were Soulbound has perished.”

  I was completely heartbroken that I never had the chance to meet him. He was my Barron, and it broke my heart to lose him.

  So…no, the Barron I’d been assigned to wasn’t my Barron. He was just someone who was supposed to fill the space that my Barron had filled, but couldn’t anymore.

  “Soon. Tomorrow, after we meet to discuss the academy’s expectations of you. Say, ten o’clock in the morning, my office? Your guard, Maddox, will show you the way.”

  With a snort, I said, “Yeah, Maddox has done a great job so far.”

  Without a word, perhaps suspecting that I was baiting him for an argument—which I totally was—he led me to the largest building and opened the door, then directed me up two flights of stairs. “The second door on the right, please.”

  I reached the door and paused. The headmaster passed me, and knocked on the third door. As if he were too anxious to wait, he knocked heavily a second time. The door opened to reveal a rather petite brunette girl with sheared short hair and the bluest eyes that I had ever seen. The headmaster’s relatively pleasant demeanor wavered and he hissed, “Maddox, have you forgotten something?”

  Maddox flicked her eyes to me—her eyes! Maddox was a girl? Why didn’t anyone tell me?—and groaned. “Fak, I forgot.”

  I felt bad for her at first. Then I remembered the Gr
aplar and didn’t feel as bad. Still, I shrugged and offered up a small smile. “It’s all right. No harm done.”

  “Tomorrow night, while Kaya is sleeping, you will assist the south gate guards in their patrols. Perhaps it will strengthen your memory.” The headmaster clapped his hands together eagerly. “Now…is he here?”

  “Yes, Headmaster.” Maddox opened the door wide and stepped back.

  A voice from within took on a concerned tone, like the speaker was worried a Graplar might have devoured me whole. At least somebody seemed to care. “Is she—”

  “Yes, yes, she’s fine. I simply wanted to remind you of our appointment tomorrow morning…and of Protocol, of course.”

  A pause. “Of course.”

  Maddox stepped out into the hall. I heard the door close slowly just as the headmaster was turning back to face me. His voice was almost singsongy, like he was trying desperately to keep my entrance into this school as pleasant as possible. It was nauseating. “There we are. I’ll leave you in Maddox’s most capable hands. Good night. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  I rolled my eyes, but doubted he saw before turning and leaving me alone in the hall with my inept guard.

  Maddox crossed her arms in front of her and looked at me, sizing me up. Without her saying anything at all, I got the feeling she wasn’t enormously happy about being assigned as my guard. At the moment I was too tired to care.

  I couldn’t help but notice the small crescent, about the size of a coin, on the back of her hand. Her Trace. It was black.

  With a sigh, she opened another door and gestured for me to go inside. “After you, Princess.”

  I stepped inside without a word, too exhausted to argue with her over why I wasn’t even close to being a “princess.” After all, princesses were loved and adored by all, and those were two things that were decidedly missing from my present company. Oh yeah, and princesses also had bodyguards who would lay down their lives for them, and I was pretty sure that those guards never forgot them at some trailhead.

  The room—my room, I assumed—was small, but tasteful. A large bed dominated the center of the space, and it was covered with a fluffy down comforter, encased in rich green velvet. Luxurious tapestry drapes outlined the window. A small desk sat near the door, a pile of books on its surface. My quarters were lovely, but I wanted very much to hate them, because they weren’t home.