Echoes of Her Soul

by Serena Lindahl

  "I did find it unbelievable that the King managed to arrange all this so quickly," Clay mused. "The King himself has no knowledge of this part of his past?"

  Reed shrugged. "The King's awareness remains unknown. The scrolls we found were in a locked portion of the library. The Scholar Advisor told us the key had been lost for a long time. No one ever bothered to open the cases because no one needed what was within them."

  "And the key magically appeared recently?" Ian's voice dripped with suspicion.

  Reed nodded. "Yes. Joseph, my Advisor, said one of the servants found it when he was cleaning this wing. This happened a day after the Soul Tenders informed the King of Kiarra and our identities."

  "Hmmm," Ian hummed.

  Reed shared his cynicism, he had been disbelieving as well. The entire situation seemed terribly convenient. He rushed to reveal the rest of his findings. "A couple matters are irrefutable. One, the Queen and Kiarra look similar. She was said to have red hair and green eyes while another book described her as blue eyed and brown haired. The paintings and pictures of her are too faded to make out colors, but the facial structure is almost identical. For so many generations separating them, they share an uncanny resemblance."

  Reed turned around and pulled the two books from his satchel. One he set to the side and the other he set in front of him. He pointed to a passage about the Queen and her Advisors, hinting at their unique relationship. Then, he placed a picture in the center of the table. The men leaned forward to examine the painting.

  Kiarra drew in a sharp breath. The Queen, beautiful and proud, was much older than Kiarra's current age at the time of the photo, but the resemblance was unarguable. It was difficult to tell the Queen's coloring, though, because the picture was painted in sepia tones. The five men surrounding her, standing two to each side and one behind, were all handsome men but bore no likeness to any of the men sitting at the table.

  The face of the Military leader was unmistakable; the shape of his nose and eyes exactly matched the current King's. Reed wondered if the King had a picture of this man about the palace and if he was depicted as being the supreme ruler at the time. He had never heard any indication that a woman had ruled at any time, and never one with five Soul Matches. Even the book he stole from the University library appeared to portray a fabricated history.

  Kiarra pointed at another man, the caption below the picture marking him as the head of Merchant affairs. "This man resembles my father," she said with clear distaste. It was true. Though the man had more intelligent eyes than Kiarra's sire, his stocky build and dark hair did bring William to mind. Kiarra sighed. "I hope William never hears of this."

  Ian hummed again, his thoughts ferreting out possible plots and trickery. "And your sister, Lass. Both of them are far too ambitious. If they learn they are descended from royalty, they may challenge your position. At the very least, they will petition to have more riches and power themselves. Because of this, bringing your heritage and rightful claim to the crown into the public eye holds its own problems."

  Reed frowned. He hadn't considered either of those potentialities, though Kiarra's mother might have. She had become extremely pensive after learning of her previous husband's lineage.

  "What's this?" Kiarra grabbed the other book from the table in front of Reed.

  "We think it's a journal, but we can't open it. I wanted to show it to Ian. The Scholar Advisor seems to think it was written by Mellisande herself."

  Kiarra frowned down at the leather bound diary. The tome was thin, less than a hundred pages and the leaves inside were worn and yellowed. The clasp on the front cover was rusted shut, a beautiful opal inlaid in the center of a complicated iron lock. She turned it over once in her hand before giving it to Ian with a shrug. They all observed as Ian twisted the tome about in his hand several times and attempted to pull the covers apart many different ways. The jewel changed colors in the dying rays, flashing from blue to green to gray - all the shades of Kiarra's eyes, Reed realized.

  Ian shrugged. "It must be broken. I can take it to a jeweler; I'm certain a tool will help."

  Kiarra retook the book. "I don't want to ruin it. Opening it might not be important." She rubbed a thumb across the shining jewel. A barely audible clicking sound echoed, and the lock popped open. Kiarra squeaked and dropped the journal on the table in surprise, nearly jumping into Reed's lap. He caught her easily with a steadying arm around her waist. She stared at the book as if worried it might come alive. "It shocked me!"

  Ian rose from his chair and hovered over the object, his brows drawn together. Reed watched over Kiarra's shoulder. He had attempted a hundred different ways to open the journal, spending several hours on what he’d considered a fruitless endeavor. Advisor Brown and Kiarra's mother had tried as well. None of them had accomplished more than Ian had.

  Ian picked up the journal again and pulled at the clasp, but it had clicked shut the moment Kiarra dropped it. Ian held the book out. "Do what you did again?"

  Kiarra shrunk back, nearly crawling into Reed's lap. Reed sensed her fear, both along the bond and in the shaking of her hands. He tugged her into his lap fully, setting his face to the curve of her neck.

  "You don't have to," he breathed against her skin. Clay's eyes were wide, Mason looked a little scared himself, and Seb was staring with his jaw slack. The form of Kiarra fit perfectly against him, and Reed forgot his surprise for a moment to revel in the glorious feel of her. She was soft and firm all at once, smelling sweetly of lavender. The tingles which brushed across his skin at her touch multiplied.

  "There must be a reasonable explanation," Kiarra muttered, almost to herself. She steeled herself visibly and grabbed the book, positioning herself more steadily on Reed's lap. Reed caught his breath as her soft rump rubbed against his manhood. He was wearing a tunic and breeches today; he wouldn't be able to hide his desire.

  Kiarra held the journal again, and Reed reached around her. He yanked at the latch himself as he had done so many times. The binding was as rigid as it had been when he first attempted to open it. Clay leaned over his right side, Seb had scooted onto Kiarra's chair on his left, Mason now stood behind them, and Ian practically draped his lean form over the table. They all waited impatiently.

  Reed handed the book gently back to Kiarra, and she accepted with shaking hands. Releasing a ragged breath, she brushed her thumb across the jewel again. A shiver passed through her, and the same popping click sounded once more, the binding falling open. Five breaths exhaled around them.

  "What in the Saints?" Seb hissed. Kiarra turned the first page, revealing tight cursive script.

  "The personal diary of Mellisande Belodon, to be read only by her rightful heir," Kiarra read.

  Clay reached a hand over their bodies and closed the journal. His voice was low and serious. "The words are for your eyes only, Indrasa."

  Ian cut his gaze to the Merchant, his expression unreadable. "You've seen this magic before?"

  "Yes," Clay confessed wearily. "The magic is not Megrerian in nature. That's not surprising considering the country was founded shortly before Mellisande came to power if I understand the timeline correctly. The Megrerians we consider our descendants sailed from a kingdom across the Sea, on the other side of Mishok. They fled their nation when their Kingdom was overcome by dark magic. They settled here to escape the evil sorcery."

  "Magic doesn't exist anymore," Reed argued with a frown. "Besides the visions of the Soul Tenders and prophesies of the elder Mishokians, nothing that can be considered magic still survives in this world. If other countries possess magic, we would know."

  "Aye," Clay said again. His voice thickened, betraying the docks accent where he was raised. The shift surprised Reed and revealed a lot about the Merchant. Usually, he flawlessly maintained his genteel inflection to fit in with the upper tiers of Treleaven. He was either comfortable in the current company or frightened enough he couldn't control his speech. "Most magic has died out completely."

  "Most?"
Seb asked the question on everyone's tongue.

  Clay stared at them, one by one, his eyes finally meeting Kiarra's. "You feel tingles? Perhaps you experience a shock or a burning sensation when you touch us, no?"

  Kiarra nodded, her eyes large and swirling with grey. "I thought it was just because I am, uh, sexually attracted to you all."

  Ian chuckled, drawing eyes to him. "No, Lass, it's not normal. I attributed the strength of the reactions to the Soul Match. Are you saying they are due to something else?" He questioned the Merchant.

  "Not exactly. The reactions are the Soul Match, which can be considered a form of magic. This book is bound with a different kind of energy connection magic, specifically from an ancestor to her heir. That is why only Kiarra should read it and why only she can open it. If Kiarra wants to pass along the message inside, it should be her decision. The soul bond is also a form of magic. The bond is a link between two people, or more in this case," he paused as his lips tilted in a smile. "This connection draws the two beings together and enhances each person's abilities. Other words can be used if the term 'magic' is difficult to fathom. Some describe the bond as a pure energy exchange."

  Kiarra nodded slowly, and the men leaned away from her, giving them more room. She set the book down on the table and nestled further into Reed's arms. The room was silent as they all reexamined the turn the night had taken.

  Reed had never believed in magic or the Saints. He believed in the Fates, and he had confidence in Soul Matches, but he hadn't considered they might be connected. Everything he'd seen and heard this evening after the book had appeared challenged his scientifically minded brain. He couldn't ignore, however, that the journal had only opened with Kiarra's touch. He couldn't deny the energy tingling along his skin everywhere Kiarra touched him, the supernatural pull between them, or the hints of emotion he gathered from her. He'd be a poor scientist if he didn't maintain an open mind. Almost every theory could be a possibility until it was proven or disproven.

  Chapter 7

  Kiarra

  The book scared and intrigued me at the same time. I was curious to read what my ancient ancestor had written, but the prospect of magic was not something to be taken lightly. I understood Clay's explanation, but I had been raised thinking magic was dead. The stories we were told as children were just that - stories. Soul Tenders had their own amazing abilities, but I had always considered them a gift or a curse from the Fates, not actual magic. Still, I couldn't deny what I felt every time I touched one of my matches.

  I yawned, exhaustion blanketing me as I lay my head on Reed's shoulder. I was becoming addicted to sitting on their laps, wrapped up in their arms. Why would I ever want my own chair when I could be this close to them? Reed's heart beat against my back. Clay's hand held mine. My other men surrounded me. If magic were a beautiful, unexpected gift, maybe magic had led us here.

  Reed stroked a hand down my unbound hair, making me even sleepier. Ian eyed me across the table. He looked as tired as I felt.

  "I think it's time for our Queen to find her bed," the spy suggested with a crooked grin. I smiled back at him and nodded slowly. When the men called me Queen, it felt less like an expectation than when anyone else referred to me as such. I liked it. After a kiss, Reed released me reluctantly and I made a circuit around the room, offering kisses and hugs. I wanted to start and end every day like this.

  "Who will I see tomorrow?" I asked as I neared Seb. He nuzzled his face into my hair, inhaling deeply. I noticed all the men liked to press their noses to my neck, but Seb seemed to especially enjoy my scent. Maybe the Planner in him made him more susceptible to smell than the others. Or perhaps he was just more obvious about his sniffing.

  "You'll be with me in the morning," my Planner answered. "I'm sure Ian will be hanging around, but I was hoping to show you about the palace. I've learned some amazing things in my short time here." His voice was as colored with happiness as Reed's. It appeared most of them welcomed the change from their work in the city. I was grateful the King had selected them for the Advisory position, Fates' involvement or not.

  I nodded to him, excitedly remembering the conservatory we had passed by this morning. Mason had given me a quick tour, but I was anticipating a more involved introduction to the paradise I had seen. "I would love that."

  "And I'll be with you in the afternoon," Reed answered beside me. "Bring the journal if you want. It may offer some insight."

  I glanced at the small book as Reed handed it back to me. He was right. The sooner I read it the better, I supposed. It might answer all our questions about magic. I kissed Clay and Mason before approaching Ian. "So, I won't have time with you tomorrow?" I asked the spy.

  "I'll be around, Lass. I'd like to talk to you if you could stay awake just a little bit longer. I'll join you in just a minute." He pushed me gently towards the bedroom, and I had the feeling he was trying to send me a message. "I need to talk to the guys for a minute before we all retire for the evening." He kissed the top of my head and took my bedroom door in his hand. He deliberately didn't shut the door all the way. Before he turned back to the rest of the room, he winked at me. My breath caught. Whatever he wanted to discuss, he wanted me to overhear. My skin tingled in anticipation, some of the sleepiness fading.

  I moved away from the door so my body didn't cast a shadow. To my surprise, eavesdropping on the outer room was eerily easy. I imagined I might be able to listen even if the door were shut all the way. I wondered if Queen Mellisande had designed the room with that in mind. The doors to the men's rooms closed tightly; I couldn't hear them when they were in their individual units. I preferred it that way. I didn't want to worry about everyone overhearing when I did start pushing them further. My limited experience had revealed that the men could provoke whimpers and moans from me rather quickly. Heat rushed through me at the remembrance. My body always seemed to be on fire lately.

  "I think this goes without saying. Nothing said here tonight can leave this room," Ian's low voice was commanding but not arrogant. "Reed, it might be best if the Scholar Advisor and Kiarra's mom don't know yet how she opened the book. We can say we figured out how the clasp worked and Kiarra is reading the diary, as is her right. I don't think either will push to view the book. It's not a matter of trust. It's more a matter of the fewer people knowing, the better."

  Affirmatives rang around the room. If I closed my eyes, I could picture them. Ian would be lounging against the wall or in a chair. Reed would be contemplating every word seriously and possibly fidgeting. Mason would be listening with his muscular body held in calm stillness; Clay and Seb were probably smiling. Their emotions were tangled together along the bond - varying degrees of exhaustion, wariness, confusion, and resignation. The resignation was from Mason. He would accept everything and deal with it; whether he was happy about the situation or not was irrelevant. Reed would question everything.

  Ian cleared his throat, and a new emotion shivered towards me. A trickle of nervousness passed along the bond, but not from Ian. "We haven't discussed intimacy with our girl. It's not a comfortable subject, but I assume the bond is affecting each of you as strongly as it is affecting her, pushing its own agenda. We should be men and talk about the matter honestly and openly."

  "I agree," Clay's voice answered. I recognized each voice individually without any trouble. They were all similar yet so different. "Kiarra is still a virgin which should be taken into account. We can't push her hard and fast, as much as we might want to otherwise. We must have patience."

  "How do you know she's a virgin?" Seb queried. My brows lifted in the darkness of my room. I hadn't thought any of the men would have questioned that. Granted, virgins at my age weren't typical, but the boys at school had been single-mindedly brainwashed by Master Blevins. Houseless might as well have been synonymous with leprosy.

  "We might have discussed it today," Clay responded. My body heated again at the memory of his firmness beneath me, pressed against my hot core. I clenched my thighs togeth
er, biting my lip. Guilt also trickled through me as I eavesdropped on them talking about me, but I assumed Ian had his reasons. I trusted my Shadow to know what was best for all of us.

  "I would like to not wonder every time I enter the room whether she is still a virgin or not," my Scholar said. A pregnant pause filled the room. "I assume I am the only man here who is still a virgin as well?"

  Surprise rang along the bond, imitating my own. Reed was still a virgin? I hadn't believed any of them were; they were all so handsome. I knew how girls acted in secondary school. Everyone that age loved to experiment. Some even maintained long relationships. Silence reigned for several moments. Clay was the first to speak.

  "Well, I am not. I grew up in a brothel, for Saint's sake. My mother instructed the working girls to give me a present for my seventeenth birthday. I haven't been with many women since, but I haven't been celibate for five years, either." Surprise again trickled along the bond. Ian wasn't taken aback. I assumed he had researched the histories of my suitors long before we met the King. The prospect didn't bother me in the least. He would be an invaluable asset when I was Queen.

  "I had a girlfriend for a bit the last year of secondary," Seb admitted. "We were serious physically but not emotionally. We both wanted to be prepared in case we met our Soul Matches. We didn't want to fumble around." Seb spoke quietly, and I imagined his cheeks flushing. The idea of him being with someone long enough to refer to her as a girlfriend sent a pang of jealousy through me. He said they weren't serious emotionally; did that mean he didn't love her? I pushed my insecurities aside with effort. I told myself it shouldn't matter, but I was lying. It did matter.

  "Aye, I've heard that you have certain appetites," Ian murmured. No accusation coated his words; he was merely stating a fact.

  "I would never hurt Kiarra," Seb rejoined hotly. "I know she's innocent. I won't push what I want on her."

  "Easy, Planner. I am not saying you will. If your play is consensual, then, by all means, show her that side of love. That is all I, all we, ask."