A Soul for Trouble

by Crista McHugh

  He laughed in spite of himself. Here he was, inches away from a powerful Gravarian witch, and all he could think about was what she would look like cleaned up and in a fine dress sitting next to him during an official dinner. How many men would stare at him in envy?

  “This is all nonsense,” he murmured . I should be thinking about how to convince her to help us defeat Sulaino and how to keep my father from burning her at the stake, not thinking about how her hair is the color of fresh honey.

  A rustling sound caught his attention. Kell looked up to see the wolf creeping closer to them. He jumped back and tensed, waiting for the animal to attack. Cinder’s glittering yellow eyes locked with his for almost a full minute before the animal yawned and rested his head on her stomach.

  Kell inched closer to her, restraining the tremble that wanted to work its way down his arm into his hand. He had seen what timber wolves did to a man, and this monster made them look like pups. “I’m just going to finish cleaning her up, if that’s agreeable to you. I’m not going to hurt her.”

  Cinder tilted his head to the side, and his tongue flopped out, giving Kell an unobstructed view of his fangs. He didn’t think it was meant to be an intimidating gesture, but it sure didn’t put his fears to rest.

  With delicate swipes, he resumed cleaning the blood matted in the hair at her temple. He expected to see a stellate wound that would take him the better part of an hour to sew back together, but when he got to the surface of her skull, the skin showed no signs of injury. Not even a goose egg.

  What in the name of the Lady Moon was this? Judging from the amount of blood on her face and clothes, there should be something. He ran his hand through her hair, searching for any wounds, lumps, or indentions. Nothing. No signs that a huge chunk of ice hit her hard enough to knock her out.

  His search became more desperate, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. But when a soft moan vibrated through her cheek, he froze. Cinder lifted his head and watched her, stretching his neck so his nose almost pressed against her chin.

  She turned toward Kell and opened her eyes.

  His body refused to move. Few things in life had shocked him to the point where he had to remind himself to breathe, but this moment was one of them. He’d never seen eyes the color of sapphires before, especially with the odd halo of pale green around the edges. What kind of witch is she to hold me prisoner with just her gaze?

  Then to his surprise, she smiled. “Who are you?”

  Those three simple words unlocked his muscles. He pulled back from her. “I’m Kell.”

  “Kell.” The soft way she repeated his name felt like a massage working down his back.

  “Where’s Dev?”

  “He’s in the healer’s tent, having his leg sewn up.”

  Her pale brows knitted together. “Was he hurt badly?”

  Her concern for her mentor mirrored the worry he’d seen on the knight’s face earlier, convincing him they were closer than a typical mentor and apprentice. “It looked like a deep cut, but he was awake and trying to leave as soon as he could.” She chuckled. “That sounds like him.” When she tried to sit up, her body wobbled. He caught her and caused her to hiss through her teeth when his hand pressed against her back.

  “Sorry, it still stings. And I wish the room would stop spinning.”

  “You took quite a blow to the head. Perhaps you need to rest.” He lowered her to the cushions.

  A heavy sigh escaped her lips. “I suppose you’re right.”

  “Of course I am.”

  “Why do men always think they know what’s best for everyone else?” The corners of her mouth twitched.

  He listened to her speak, noting she didn’t have the same accent as the Gravarian knight.

  In fact, she sounded like a typical Ranellian. “Because sometimes, we do.”

  “Or so you think.” She ran her hand through the wolf’s thick fur. “Did we stop him?”

  “You stopped his soldiers, but he got away.”

  “I’m sorry. We’ll try harder next time.” She curled up next to the wolf and drifted off to sleep, leaving Kell with more questions than answers.

  He replayed their conversation and found nothing threatening in her words or demeanor.

  They needed magic if they were going to have any chance against him, and although her innocent ways put him at ease, he still wanted answers.

  Grabbing the drawing, he stood and strode out his tent. “No one goes in or out,” he ordered the guard outside. “Is that understood?”

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  He crossed the camp to Cero’s tent. When he entered, two men were holding Dev’s arms behind him while the healer sat on his legs with a needle in his hand. “Please sit still, Sir Devarius, so I can sew the wound closed.”

  “I told you I don’t want any of your primitive healing.” He tried to buck Cero off his legs.

  “But your leg is still bleeding. You’re just making it worse.”

  “Do you want us to knock him out?” one of the men asked Cero.

  “No,” Kell answered in place of the healer. “I want to ask him a few more questions. Go tend to the other men for now.”

  The healer’s mouth hung open in disbelief, but he didn’t protest the prince’s command.

  The men released Dev and walked away, their faces showing a mixture of disgust and frustration. The Gravarian wasn’t making many friends so far.

  “What do you want?” Dev asked while he tied a fresh bandage over the oozing wound.

  With his head tilted down, the pointed tips of his ears protruded from his hair.

  Kell tried to muffle his gasp. He hadn’t seen an elf in Ranello in over twenty years, not since Gravaria sent a diplomatic party to the palace when he was a small boy. Back then, he only managed to catch a quick glimpse at them when he escaped from his nanny’s grasp.

  Dev looked up, and his green eyes narrowed. “What’s the matter, Your Highness? Never seen an elf before?”

  “On the contrary, I have. But it’s still not something I see every day.” He hid his ears under his hair and crossed his arms. “I’m waiting for your question.” A jolt of anger stiffened Kell’s spine. How dare a prisoner talk to him this way? His insolence alone would have cost him his head if they had been in Trivinus. But the gleam in Dev’s eyes told him the knight felt quite comfortable challenging him. In fact, he seemed to welcome confrontation. The complete opposite of the quiet acceptance the man’s apprentice had given him a few minutes earlier.

  “I wanted to speak to you about your companion.” He couldn’t figure out if she was truly his apprentice or his whore.

  Dev raised a brow. “The girl, or the wolf?”

  “The girl, mostly.” He held up the drawing. “What does this mean?”

  “You work fast,” he replied, anger lacing his voice. “I’ve heard of your reputation, but I didn’t expect you to have her out of her clothes this quickly, Prince Kell.” Heat burned his cheeks. He freely admitted to having his fair share of women in his bed, but Dev’s accusations almost embarrassed him. “She’s sleeping, fully clothed, in my tent with the wolf next to her.”

  “Then how did you discover that?” He pointed to the drawing.

  “Cero had to lift her tunic to treat the wounds on her back.”

  “She had other injuries?” The cocky arrogance vanished from his face, and panic replaced it.

  “Yes.” He waved the paper in the air. “Back to this.”

  “But she’s fine now?”

  A slow smile spread across his lips. So, he’d found Dev’s weak spot. “Yes, for now.” His shoulders drooped. He leaned back against the saddle someone had left behind.

  “Good.”

  “Are you going to answer my question?”

  “I’m thinking about it, Your Highness.”

  “Why the hesitation?”

  “Because there are some things that aren’t meant to be shared with Ranellians.” Kell gnashed his teeth together. He’d prob
ably have better luck waiting for the girl to wake up and answer his questions. That was, if he could keep her away from Dev long enough to extract them from her.

  “Prince Kell, there you are,” Bynn’s voice said from the entrance of the tent. “Come take a look at this.”

  Dev feigned sleep, but the small slits left open between his lids told Kell he was watching his every movement. If the knight was still in the camp come dawn, it would be a pleasant surprise.

  Kell stepped outside to where Bynn stood. A beam of light fell on the sword in his hands.

  “I found this.” He tilted it so the light fell on the blade. “Notice anything unusual about it?”

  Etched on the flat of the blade was the same symbol that was branded on Trouble’s back.

  Kell wanted to shake away the icy fingers of dread that grabbed him. “Very interesting.”

  “Yeah, they’re a perfectly matched pair. Must be part of some kind of cult in Gravaria.”

  “She’s Ranellian.”

  Bynn’s jaw fell slack for a second before he forced a laugh. “You’re joking, right?”

  “I wish I could say I was, but she sounds like one of us. No accent like him.” He took the sword from his friend’s hands and examined it. Perfectly balanced. A thin blade made of some metal other than steel. The artistry of the hilt could rival even his father’s swords. Overall, too fine a weapon for a simple knight.

  “She woke up?”

  “For a few minutes. Long enough to ask about the knight and then apologize for not stopping Sulaino.”

  “This is an interesting twist.” Bynn ran his hands through his hair. “It sounds like we have more to worry about from him than the witch. Strange, huh?”

  “Not as strange as the fact that I couldn’t find any evidence of a head injury on her when I was cleaning up the blood.”

  “Magic?” Bynn’s face paled. “Are you sure you want to take them back to Trivinus?

  Something tells me they may become as big a problem as Sulaino.”

  “I don’t think we have any other option.” Kell rested the tip of the sword in the mud and leaned the hilt against his hip. “The girl wants to help us—I can feel it. It’s just convincing him to go along with the plan.”

  “And you think he will eventually?”

  “It’s not going to be simple.” It should be easy enough to seduce her to his cause. Once she came to his side, Dev would follow, just like he did tonight when she ran to help them. He curled his lips up into a smile. “But I’m already forming a plan.”

  “May the Lady Moon shine in your favor, because you’re going to need all the help you can get.”

  “If I don’t defend the kingdom from Sulaino, who will?” He tried to sound nonchalant, but he knew time was running out. It had taken him over a year to convince his father there really was a necromancer operating in the realm, and now Sulaino had grown too strong to stop without some kind of magical aid. Tonight had proven that.

  “Do you want me to take the sword back to your tent?”

  Kell lifted it and let the light flash on it. “No, I think maybe I can use it to get some answers from Dev.”

  “You never struck me as the type to resort to torture, unless you include your lousy jokes.”

  “Ha-ha. But something tells me he’ll want his sword back.” As soon as Kell ducked through the flap back into the tent, Dev’s eyes opened a bit wider.

  Kell stood over him and positioned the blade so the engraved symbol faced the knight.

  “Now, back to this symbol.”

  Dev sat up and held out his hand. “Thank you for finding my sword.”

  “Not so fast,” Kell replied as he moved it out of reach. “I want answers.”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you the truth.” He examined the bandage on his leg and grabbed a fresh strip of linen to layer over the soaked bandage. “You Ranellians are slow to accept things you don’t understand.”

  Kell knelt so they were at eye level. “Was it difficult convincing Trouble to believe you?”

  “Why do you keep going back to her?”

  “Because she’s obviously powerful enough to challenge Sulaino. Maybe if I understand this symbol, it will help your case when I present it to my father.” Dev squeezed the cloth tight enough around his thigh to cause blood to drip down on the dirt floor from the underlying bandage. He winced in pain and then repeated the procedure.

  After taking a deep breath, he said, “It’s the symbol of the god Loku.”

  “Who?”

  “Just because you Ranellians cling to your moon goddess doesn’t mean there aren’t more deities out there. Loku is the god of chaos.”

  A strangled laugh formed in his throat. “This is ridiculous. You don’t actually expect me to believe that, do you?”

  Dev cocked a brow. “I said you wouldn’t believe the truth. What were you expecting? For me to tell you we were members of some cult or part of the mythical Gravarian Special Forces?”

  “Do you have the same symbol on you?”

  “Are you planning on strip-searching me?”

  “It depends—are you planning on escaping tonight?”

  The knight gave a half chuckle filled with bitterness. “Do I look like I’m in any condition to run away? Besides, you still have Trouble.”

  “And she’s got the wolf.”

  “Why do you think I sent Cinder with her?” He rubbed his face. “I don’t bear Loku’s mark. She’s the only living person with it. I have the same symbol on my sword because I’m her protector.”

  “Why does she bear his mark, and why does she need a protector?” Dev eyes glittered, and his hand gripped the top of his boot. “I’m not allowed to tell you that.”

  Kell couldn’t help feel like the tables had suddenly turned. Something predatory lingered in the knight’s expression, and if pressed further, he’d attack.

  “But you can only guess why she needs a protector. She isn’t called Trouble for nothing.” Dev released his boot and reclined against the saddle. “Now, if you don’t mind, Your Highness, I need to rest so I can heal.”

  “You’d be better off letting Cero tend to your wounds.”

  “Over my dead body.”

  Kell stood, taking the sword with him. The voice of his tutor echoed in his mind. Small victories would end up winning the war, and he had to be satisfied with the outcome of tonight’s battle of wills. “This conversation isn’t finished.”

  “That’s what you think.”

  Chapter 15

  The pale light of dawn filtered through her eyelids, but Arden wasn’t ready to open them yet. Her head still throbbed. She ran her hands over the silk cushions under her and immediately cursed, wondering if Loku was playing the same trick on her that he’d played on Dev.

  “No, my Soulbearer, you’re not dreaming. I’d have you naked if you were.” The damp wool of her tunic rubbed against her shoulders, answering her next question.

  Her thoughts turned to the face of the man she saw last night. Kell. His dark brown hair curled at the ends and framed his square jaw when he looked down on her, and his brown eyes danced with amusement. He even had a dimple in his left cheek when he smiled. All and all, it was a handsome face. One she wouldn’t mind seeing again. “Loku, did I dream him up? ” The chaos god’s laughter filled her mind. “Is that where your tastes roam? ”

  “No, not usually, but I liked the look of him.”

  “I’ll have to remember that if I decide to tempt you.” Kell intrigued her. Maybe it was because he actually seemed warm and friendly to her, a sharp contrast to Dev’s cool and distant demeanor.

  A mixture of metal clanging and conversation began to fill her ears. She tensed. Wherever she was, she wasn’t alone. Then something furry stretched next to her, and she relaxed. Cinder had stayed by her side. But where was Dev?

  She called out his name and opened her eyes.

  “He’s still in the healer’s tent,” an unfamiliar voice answered.

 
; Arden shot up and immediately wished she hadn’t. The room spun in circles, matching the swirling in the pit of her stomach. She crumpled back down on the cushions.

  A face swam above her. “Still dizzy?” Cool fingertips brushed her hair from her face, and the man from last night came into focus. “Should I send for the healer?” Her tongue refused to cooperate with her and form an answer. She didn’t know if her speechlessness was from the fact that he didn’t appear to regard her as some kind of freak or that he was probably the most gorgeous Ranellian she’d ever seen. She licked her dry lips and found her voice. “I think if I try to sit up slowly, the dizziness won’t hit me as hard.”

  “Then let me help you.” A pair of arms encircled her and lifted her back off the cushions.

  “Tell me if I’m moving too fast.”

  If he had been a customer at the inn, she would have some sarcastic reply to that, but he was one man whose touch she welcomed.

  “Enough to let him under your skirt? ” Loku asked.

  Her cheeks burned. Leave it to Loku to take her attraction and add some perverted twist to it. “Why does everything have to come down to sex with you?”

  “Because it’s the one thing all you humans seem to have in common. It’s what drives your species forward. I have a feeling you’d enjoy it if you ever gave it a chance.”

  “Absolutely not. I don’t want to be labeled a whore and end up with a bastard child.”

  “Always picturing the dreariest outcome, huh?”

  Her gaze flickered to the man at her side. His brows knitted together as he studied her.

  “Will you just shut up so he doesn’t think I’m completely crazy? ” She forced a smile on her face. “Thank you,” she told Kell. “The dizziness is slowly going away.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, Trouble.”

  Her body flinched at the sound of that name. “My name is Arden, not Trouble,” she replied with a bit of steeliness in her voice.

  “That sounds like a more respectable name. May I ask why Dev calls you Trouble?”