Echoes of Her Soul

by Serena Lindahl

  Once comfortable, my brother directed his gaze to Ian. "Reflections, yes. Souls are not broken into pieces unless they are corrupt. Everyone is born possessing a whole soul. Many people have matches which are reflections or echoes of themselves. Do you remember as a child when you recognized yourself in a looking glass for the first time? The act of finding your match is not dissimilar. You're drawn to look at your reflection; souls are likewise attracted to those who mirror them. Some souls don’t reflect well; those individuals don’t possess a clear match in the outer world. Those people can experience a satisfying existence even if they never find their Soul Match. Some souls," he squeezed my hand, "exist in a room full of mirrors. Their images are reflected many times over. Kee's soul is one of those. She is reflected in each of you and vice versa."

  My brain worked to understand his explanation. "Why do I feel more complete now, though? I am less tentative. I feel more myself than I have ever felt."

  "Finding the reflections of your soul and binding them to you makes you stronger. The bonding facilitates an energy transfer. The reflections are now layered on top of each other instead of being single images displayed in different mirrors. You're not constantly spinning in circles trying to view all your reflections. They all reside in one place within you. Because of the bond, they are stronger and clearer. As Soul Tenders, we sometimes refer to matches as echoes instead of reflections. We sense the connections more keenly than we see them."

  I shook my head, attempting to imagine the picture he created. The concept was foreign, and yet I wanted to believe his version. His explanation resonated with me as the other description never had. I hadn't appreciated the notion I might have a broken soul or only one-sixth of a soul.

  "Why do Soul Tenders exist? Not that I don't want you to be, it's just that...well, it's not obvious." My grandmother's journal didn't mention Soul Tenders. The lack might have been a simple omission, or the role might have been created after the fracture of the kingdom.

  Rowan relaxed against the couch. For all my worries, he appeared content and happy. His bearing displayed confidence akin to my own, and I wondered if finding his destiny as a Soul Tender caused parallel effects similar to me bonding with my Soul Matches. "Soul Tenders are assigned by the Fates to balance humanity. I can’t exactly explain why our souls are so reflective. I believe it is a punishment or a reward for a transgression against the gods, an event which happened long ago."

  I squirmed in my seat, pressing my lips together. Grandmother had told me the cause. Men attempting to wrest power from women fractured all our reflections, forging an imbalance of energy and strength. The first King Caden furthered the problem when he prevented more than one mirror image from lining up, creating countless untethered souls.

  Ian and I shared a glance. We had agreed to wait to discuss the contents of the journal with all my matches present. We also weren't sure how long Rowan could stay absent from his tower without causing an uproar.

  "Rowan, we were wondering..." I began tentatively. I didn't want to force a vision upon him; it might not even be possible.

  Rowan squeezed my hand, and his words stopped my own. "Yes, Kee, I can tell you what I've learned. Unfortunately, I can't call up visions of the future at will, but I have seen something which might help." His white eyes drifted to the Advisor in deliberation. Did he not trust Carson? The older man remained a statue. I doubted he would leave the chamber if we asked. Rowan must have received an answer to his internal debate because the worry fell from his shoulders. "The most important information I've gathered is the identity of Everett Caden's Soul Match."

  I stiffened. From the theories we had been able to formulate, Everett's soul was already corrupt. Whoever had the unfortunate destiny of being his match would not be safe. My heart ached for the poor woman, not even knowing her name. I didn’t understand how this information would help us, either.

  "Who is it?" Seb prodded when the silence stretched dramatically.

  "Our sister," Rowan breathed a sigh. I made a sound somewhere between an exclamation and a whine. Ian's face grew pensive, Seb's energy pulsed with shock, and the Advisor swore under his breath.

  "Poor Delia," I choked out. "He's not right in the head. His soul is corrupt."

  "Yes," Rowan confirmed solemnly. "I believe Delia's soul has been colored by his already. The taint might be part of the reason for her character."

  "Isn't his soul broken?" I asked. "How would finding his match, his reflection, make anything worse or better?"

  Rowan shrugged. "I don't think you're asking the most important question. What I am certain of is that their union challenges your position on the throne. If two members of royal lineage marry, they could counter your right to rule. Delia's soul might balance him enough to allow him to appear sane. All sorts of issues will arise with the ascension. Also, they are both devious and crafty. I shudder to think of the evils they might commit together." I glossed over the fact Rowan said two members of the royal lineage, though I caught Ian's sideways glance. Somehow, my brother knew the history we had learned from Grandmother's journal. I focused on the conundrum of my sister instead.

  "Delia isn't evil, I think." I frowned as I considered it. Sometimes, she did seem so.

  "Not yet. However, connecting with Everett, especially if he forces a bond, will thoroughly corrupt her soul."

  I rose to my feet, twisting my hands together. "We must prevent them from bonding."

  Rowan deliberated. "Not bonding might help, but I don't think neither she nor Everett will appreciate our interference. Delia would love to be Queen, and she believes the Prince is still bound for the throne."

  I grunted in frustration. Rowan was right. My sister possessed more ambition than sense. "I have to warn her, at least."

  Rowan stared at me, and I swore the blueness of his gaze pinned me although white clouds obscured his old eyes. "Kee, you know she won't listen to you."

  I wrung my hands, despairing. "Well, I have to tell Mum." When no one protested that course of action, I decided it would have to be enough. "Can you tell us anything else?"

  Rowan's lips quirked; I recognized his mischievous smile. He had adopted a similar grin when he had convinced me to climb the outer wall or knock on Mistress Hawly's door and run away before she answered. He'd worn the same look when we cracked raw eggs into Delia's fancy shampoo. She preferred her water so hot; she walked around with rubbery scrambled eggs in her hair for a week. To be fair, she had deserved it. She started a rumor that I deliberately failed my tests because I secretly wanted to work in a brothel.

  "I don't have any more information of use to you. But you should ask Advisor Carson. He possesses knowledge which will assist your cause and help you save the kingdom."

  I glanced quickly at the Advisor, but his face revealed nothing. I turned back to Rowan. "A little dramatic, aren't you?"

  Rowan's expression turned serious. "No, actually. Everett is more dangerous than you can imagine, especially with the company he keeps. Megreria will not survive a rule under Everett Caden, with or without Delia at his side. Megreria's future affects the fortunes of other kingdoms as well."

  I bit my lip. Rowan was right. That was the worst possible scenario. "You have information for us?" I asked Advisor Carson. His impassive nature bothered me, but if Ian and Rowan trusted him, I would as well. Despite being unable to read him, my instincts suggested he was trustworthy.

  Advisor Carson sat motionless for several minutes, elevating the tension in the room. "Yes, I have information. But I can't speak now. I have a meeting with the King soon. I would prefer to discuss it with all of you as a group. Often, details become lost in translation." Ian and I nodded; his request aligned with our plans. "I should return Rowan to the tower. I will meet with you in your quarters after dinner. I have personally secured the entirety of your wing."

  Sadness filled me. The reunion with Rowan was bittersweet and far too short. I wanted to be Queen if only so I could visit my brother every day. He rose fr
om the couch, and I wrapped my arms around his middle, resting my head on his chest. He hugged me back tightly, tugging my braid again.

  "Are you all right, brother? Are you happy?"

  "Yes, Kee-Kee. One of the Tenders is an ass, but I like the other two, and we cooperate well. Life in the Tower is somewhat confining, but I can go anywhere within my mind now. The Fates whisper directly to me. I have a purpose in my life, and I am beyond overjoyed that you and your matches are bonding so cohesively."

  "The Fates are real?" I squeaked. I thought it had been a metaphorical reference.

  "The Saints are man-made constructs, but the Fates are very real. They have momentous plans for you and yours." He kissed the top of my head, and I released him reluctantly.

  "I will see you again, brother."

  The clouds swirled in his eyes for a moment, so fast I almost missed them. His hand tightened on my own. "We will see each other soon, but much will have changed, and we won't have much time together. Stay safe, Kee." His ominous words rattled around in my brain as he pinned Ian and Seb with his sightless eyes, unerringly finding their positions in the room, and finally the Advisor. "Take care of her. She is far more important than you imagine."

  "Aye," Ian promised in a gruff voice. Seb nodded, clasping my brother on the back. Advisor Carson again reminded us he would meet us that evening before they disappeared behind the tapestry.

  My shoulders slumped once we were again alone in the room. Ian and Seb sensed my sadness. They bracketed me, kissing each of my cheeks and rubbing soothing hands up my back. I smiled at them through eyes watery with unshed tears. Their presence was comforting and safe.

  "I'm hungry," I sighed. "Let's return to our rooms and discuss what we've been told. I also need to send a missive to my mother. She needs to be warned about Delia." My mind dwelled upon my sister as we wound through the halls back to our wing. Delia may be a selfish bitch, but no one deserved to be subjected to the corruption which blackened Everett Caden's soul.

  Chapter 21

  Reed

  Reed's excitement over his new skills propelled him into a brisk trot towards the library as soon as Seb, Ian, and Kiarra left for their meeting with Rowan. He evaluated the sensation of Kiarra within him. He'd always believed in Soul Matches, but he felt positive his parent's bond wasn't as magical as the connection he shared with Kiarra. His Scholar parents had advanced from third to second tier after bonding, but their deep love and abiding loyalty to each other bypassed any skill enhancements. The union Kiarra had forged was multi-layered and supernatural. He shouldn't be surprised; Kiarra never did anything by halves.

  He slowed his steps as he reached the library, pushing down his apparent enthusiasm. If any ambitious Scholars discovered he had gained the ability to translate foreign languages overnight, they would be eager to accomplish the same. Reed intuitively understood an energy exchange wouldn't be as easy for anyone else as it was for him and Kiarra's other four partners. Kiarra was unique.

  Summoning his sedate, reserved facade, he browsed the books on the shelves. His lips tilted upward, his back to the rest of the room. He could read more than Mishokian. The ancient texts from the disbanded country of Costina also appeared legible to him. He pulled the book down and tucked it into his satchel.

  Costina neighbored Baldony before its deconstruction and might offer some insight into the nature and origin of the soul bond. The text might contain additional details about the subsequent revolt over power distribution as well. He didn't believe anyone else could read Costinan. The tome had gathered so much dust, it was a wonder the binding still held.

  Reed continued running his fingers across the book spines, working his way deeper into the stacks. He jumped when he heard voices in the depths of the shelves, an area not many ventured. He pursed his lips, debating whether to listen or leave when the mention of the Prince's name decided him. He remained exceptionally still, hoping he wouldn't be discovered.

  "The Crown Prince arrives at midnight tonight," a gruff voice spoke. Reed frowned. Ian believed the Prince wouldn't arrive until late tomorrow.

  "Is everything in place?" A feminine voice queried. Reed couldn’t identify either speaker.

  The male grunted in affirmation. "All set. They won't know what's coming." The man laughed although his companion shushed him. Ice traveled down Reed's spine. Were they talking about Kiarra and her matches? He wanted to stay and garner more details, but the voices lowered further. If he ventured closer, he would draw attention to himself.

  Gritting his teeth, he hurried to the busier section of the library, his exploration into the more significant texts forgotten. If he closed his eyes, he could pinpoint Kiarra's general direction. At the moment, her mood was stable and her condition healthy. Concern blanketed her energy, but that didn't surprise him since he knew she spoke with Rowan. He deftly avoided the Scholars trying to catch his attention and wound through the halls towards their quarters. The ease on the cord in his chest hinted she would arrive shortly.

  When he reached the room, Clay still read on the couch. He had taken a shower in Reed's absence and dressed in fresh clothes. Reed wondered for a moment why none of their Advisors had called them for lessons when he recalled today was rest day. So much had changed since the last rest day. Clay closed his book, glanced at Reed's face, and sat upright.

  "What's wrong?"

  "Is Mason here?"

  "No, he went to gather more weapons. I'm uncertain why. He became agitated quite abruptly and said he needed something. He took off before I learned any details, but he did mention the armory."

  Reed's frown grew as he repeated what he'd overheard in the library. Clay sighed, leaning back again. He pinched the bridge of his crooked nose, jade eyes thoughtful. "Could be Kiarra, or the King and Queen, or anyone the Prince dislikes or doesn't trust. I bet the number isn't small."

  Reed shoved a hand through his hair and started to pace the room. "If they are speaking of Kiarra, though..."

  Clay's expression darkened. "Right. We can't take the risk. We need to take precautions." He cocked his head. "She'll be here soon."

  Reed rechecked his energy and nodded. The cord which connected them fell slack, and the light within him glowed brighter. He felt Seb and Ian to a lesser extent, more as appendages to her. He didn't relax until after she walked through the door, laughing about something with the Shadow and Planner. Her eyes widened when he enfolded her in his arms, crushing her against his chest.

  "Reed, what's wrong?" she asked, immediately sensing his anxiety. He nuzzled her neck, breathing in her scent, ensuring himself she was healthy and whole. When he was convinced, he picked her up and set her gently on Clay's lap. The Merchant smiled gratefully and embraced Kiarra. She kissed him on the cheek and giggled. "I'm not complaining about this lovely greeting, but I'd like to know why you're both so worried."

  "I'd like to know as well," Ian agreed, his voice tight. Reed again relayed what he had overheard in the library. Kiarra stilled in Clay's lap. Reed sat next to them, capturing her hand.

  "But we have no idea who they spoke of, right? I'm safe here," she protested. "I have all of you to protect me."

  Ian paced, scratching at his unshaven chin. His eyes burned with a darkness which made Reed shiver even though it wasn't directed at him. He was thankful Ian and Mason were allies and not enemies. He was equally grateful the two men protected Kiarra. He understood Mason's attitude now, his desire to protect her no matter who he shared her with.

  "Someone in our ranks is lying and passing false data to our Advisor," Ian intoned. His voice was flat and empty. "The latest report said Everett would arrive in the morning. Rowan told us Advisor Carson possesses knowledge which will assist us. We need all the information. Delia could also be a potential target."

  Kiarra's spine stiffened, and Reed's brows drew together in confusion. "Delia? Your sister? Why would it be her?"

  Kiarra sighed, sinking into Clay but leaning back on Reed at the same time. He gladly supported her
weight, not caring he sat thigh to thigh with the Merchant. The well-being of his match was more important than some misguided notions of behavior when around the same sex. The intimacy they had shared had broken down a lot of his self-imposed boundaries. He felt acceptance and freedom to be himself around others for the first time in his life. He didn't want to jeopardize those gifts by being narrow-minded.

  "Delia is Everett's Soul Match."

  Reed sucked in a breath, unconsciously releasing Kiarra's braid and combing his fingers through her silky hair. "That's unexpected," he admitted. But again, it wasn't. The eldest Walton children had their assigned positions; it stood to reason Delia would play her part as well. Too bad it wasn’t a good role. If Kiarra and Delia remained on opposite sides, Reed worried Kiarra wouldn't cope well with the consequences.

  "Did you learn anything else?" Clay asked. His hand moved up and down Kiarra's thigh, and she shivered with pleasure against Reed. He instantly stiffened, loving how receptive she was to their touches. His renewed hunger recalled the night before. At first, the activity had been stressful for him. He had wanted to participate, but self-consciousness and not knowing his place held him back. His unquenchable desire for Kiarra and her appreciation of his reserve slowly relaxed him. When he slid inside her, he had felt amazed and humbled by the majesty of the moment. The memory would forever remain one of his favorites. His heart and body swelled with the recollection of joining so wholly with Kiarra. Unfortunately, now wasn't the time to entertain more fantasies.

  Mason burst through the door, causing everyone to jump. He carried a bag bristling with blades and even a quiver full of arrows. Ian closed the door behind his friend, ignoring the curiosity on the guards' faces.

  "Everything all right?" Seb asked Mason, his brow cocked as he evaluated the pack of weapons.

  Mason threw the bag down on the table, making a godawful clunking sound. His forehead glistened with sweat. He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he crossed the room in two long strides, kissing Kiarra hard on the lips. The fervor of his assault pressed her back against Reed's chest. The Soldier stood and evaluated the rest of the room after trailing a finger lovingly over Kiarra's cheek.