The Fragment of Water (The Shattered Soul Book 1)

by Ben Hale

  The walls of the council chamber were built to support the titan’s weight, but it absorbed the brunt of the blast, the stone cracking, the supports giving way. The ceiling began to cave in, great stones falling inward, smashing the council table into chunks of polished stone.

  “Above you!” Loralyn cried, shoving her sister out of the way as a stone came free.

  Lorica tumbled in the dust as the stone landed on Loralyn, knocking her to the ground. “Loralyn!” she cried.

  Fire leapt to the stone and with a burst of fire, pushed it out of the way. Lorica scooped her sister up and the group sprinted for the entrance as the entire ceiling gave way. Last in line, the ceiling dropped on Elenyr, and she passed through the tumbling rock in ethereal form, bursting through the dust to join the others.

  Dead Bloodsworn killers littered the ground, and two of the explosive weapons had detonated in their ranks, leaving a pair of craters. Gendor had left the dead where they had fallen, and the battlefield lay strewn with their dark bodies, the silver masks covering their features. Then a cracking of stone drew their eyes.

  She looked up and watched as the titan, its footstool broken, teetered, and then fell to the side. Its waist slammed into an assassin tower, crushing it to rubble as it crashed its way to the ground, splashing into the lake before finally coming to a halt, half submerged.

  “Sister.” Lorica’s voice was barely a whisper as she set Loralyn on the earth. She snapped to look at Elenyr and the fragments, tears in her desperate eyes. “Do any of you have healing magic?”

  “We do not,” Mind said quietly.

  Lorica cradled her sister as she died, and Loralyn reached up to grasp her hand. “You must rebuild the guild,” she said. “The assassins must continue.”

  “I can’t do it without you.” Tears wet the dust and blood on Loralyn’s chest. “I’ll get you to a healer. There’s enough time.”

  But there wasn’t, and Elenyr grimaced in helplessness. Gendor had planned his strike with great care, all but eliminating the assassins in a single stroke. The grief on Lorica’s features was palpable, and reminded Elenyr of the other assassins that had been buried beneath the titan’s footstool. They had been the woman’s family, and in a matter of minutes she’d witnessed their betrayal and slaughter.

  Elenyr’s thoughts turned to her losses, the family and friends she’d seen die in the Mage Wars. Witnessing Lorica’s raw grief cut deep, and Elenyr recalled the agony of loss. Her eyes flicked to Fire and Mind, both soberly watching Lorica, and Elenyr imagined the pain of losing her sons. Her heart clenched in her chest, and she looked away, trying not to imagine kneeling over the body of a fragment.

  Loralyn smiled up at her sister. “You have always been the strong one,” she whispered.

  Lorica grimaced, the tears flowing faster. “That’s not true and you know it.”

  “Rebuild the guild,” Loralyn repeated, her voice fading.

  “Gendor’s guild is too strong,” Lorica said.

  “It is not the Bloodsworn you must fear,” Lorica said, her eyes flicking to Elenyr. “It is his master. Be wary, for the Order of Ancients has risen . . .”

  Loralyn’s body relaxed in death, and Lorica screamed her rage, the primal sound reverberating in the chamber. Elenyr reached out and placed her hand on the woman’s shoulder, but Lorica jerked free of Elenyr’s grip.

  “You must leave.”

  “We can help you against the Bloodsworn,” Mind said.

  “Your help got my sister killed.”

  Elenyr glanced to Mind and saw him grimace. With no other recourse, Elenyr motioned them away, and they retreated back the way they had come. Elenyr paused when they had ascended the stairwell to the corridor, her eyes settling on the figure of Lorica leaning over her fallen sister.

  “She died saving her family,” Mind said.

  “That is what family does,” Elenyr said quietly.

  “Are the Bloodsworn still present?” Fire asked. “I have no wish to see both sisters perish this day.”

  Mind frowned, his eyes gaining the faraway look that indicated he was using his magic. “I feel no other minds present.” His gaze flicked to the titan, and then back to Elenyr. “No mortal minds, anyway.”

  “This was no accidental strike,” Fire said. “Gendor was ready to destroy the Assassin’s Guild. We just happened to be here.”

  “If we hadn’t, Lorica would be dead,” Mind said.

  Elenyr noticed the frown on his features. “What else did you sense?”

  Mind hesitated, and then motioned to the refuge. “I caught the thoughts of another. “I can’t be sure, but it could have been Shadow.”

  “What would he be doing here?” Fire asked.

  “If he did not reveal himself, he had a reason,” Elenyr said.

  “So you’ll just leave him with Lorica?” Mind asked. “In the state she’s in, I wouldn’t be surprised if she killed him.”

  “Shadow has his task. We have ours.” Elenyr turned away from the chamber and ascended the sloping corridor. “We learned what we came to learn. And it appears Wylyn has discovered allies.”

  “The Order of Ancients?” Fire asked. “I’ve never heard of them.”

  They both looked to Elenyr, and she sighed. “There have always been rumors of people that believe the ancient race will return. I never gave credence to such a myth.”

  “A myth just destroyed the Assassin’s Guild.”

  “What are you saying?” Elenyr asked.

  “That Gendor doesn’t serve the Order. He’s a member.”

  Elenyr was nodding. “Then it appears Wylyn is not our only threat. Let us hope the kings know more about the Order, for if they are large enough to eliminate the Assassins, they are large enough to aid Wylyn’s rise to power.”

  Elenyr didn’t say what she really feared. Gendor had all but admitted that he’d ordered the contract on her life. If he was a member of the Order, it meant the Order knew about Elenyr. And the fragments. As they left the fallen Assassin’s Guild behind, she realized the attempt on her life may not have succeeded, but it had informed their foes that Elenyr had a weakness.

  Lightning.

  Chapter 18: Lost to the Deep

  In a cavern deep underground, a stream flowed out of a crevasse in the wall, gurgling into a lake. The sound reverberated off the confines of the cavern, a quiet echo that did not disturb the denizens that called the cavern home. The sounds had existed for centuries, untouched, unchanged. Then the water cut off, gradually diminishing as if the stream had suddenly dried up.

  Deep hawks fluttered in the sudden silence, their agitation mounting. Lizards skittered across the beach to the streambed and sniffed about, and then fled when the stone around the crevasse cracked. Another crack appeared, and another, the pressure behind the wall mounting by the second.

  Boom, the wall exploded outward, stones and boulders falling down the slope and splashing into the lake. A sphere of water bounced out of the new hole, and was carried on the stream into the lake, where it floated like a giant bubble. Then it popped, dropping four figures into the lake.

  Exhausted, Water plunged into the freezing lake, the cold piercing his clothing and sinking into his skin. He surfaced and sucked in a breath, casting about to ensure his companions were with him. Wearily, he swam to the edge and pulled himself onto the beach, collapsing in relief.

  Iridescent mushrooms and vines clung to the walls and ceiling, casting the large cavern in blue and green light. Grey spotted lizards flitted away from him, eager to protect their eggs from the sudden intruders.

  “I can’t believe you got us out,” Light exclaimed, yawning.

  “To be fair,” Jeric said, emptying the water from his boots. “He is the one that dropped a mountain on us.”

  “And you have our gratitude,” Lira said.

  Her smile warmed Water’s heart, and he hoped he was not turning red. “You told us to destroy the Gate, so we did.”

  “No thanks to me,” Light said moros
ely. “I’m just so tired.”

  “You’ll feel better when we get to the surface,” Lira said. She leaned against a rock and wiped a hand across her clothes, the wind gradually drying her armor, the action causing her to shiver.

  “Light,” Water said, “think you can get a fire going?”

  “With what?” Light asked. “It’s not like we’ve got any wood down here.”

  “The mushrooms will burn,” Jeric said, pointing to the iridescent stalks.

  Water stood and sliced several off. Then he gathered stones and placed them in a ring. He too was shivering, and felt lethargic and slow. Light pulled from the cavern’s light and focused it on the pile of mushroom stalks, sending flames blossoming upward. Instead of orange, the flames were a bright blue.

  Water smiled in relief and sat next to the flames, warming his hands. Lira did the same, her smile illuminated by the sparkling fire. She glanced at him and saw his shudder, and then cocked her head to the side.

  “I wouldn’t think you’d be cold.”

  “Only Fire is resistant to cold,” Water said wryly. “The rest of us feel the chill.”

  “It’s times like these I miss his ugly face,” Light said, clearly miserable.

  “He has your face,” Jeric said, taking a seat next to Water.

  “And yet he’s the ugly one,” Light said, a faint smile on his lips.

  They shared a laugh and then Lira gestured to the hole in the cavern wall. “I’m impressed you got us out alive. The pressure must have been tremendous.”

  Water recalled the moment the Gate Chamber and the temple had collapsed into the reservoir. Great stones had plunged into the water and sunk, giving Water only seconds to pull his friends into a sphere that would keep them safe. Then the rocks had piled on top of them, the sheer weight all but crushing Water’s magic.

  With great care he’d shifted the boulders until they had access to an opening at the side of the reservoir, which dropped into an underground stream. The current had carried them for hours before striking the wall at the edge of the cavern, the water building up pressure until it shattered the barrier.

  “I wasn’t about to let such a beautiful companion drown.” Water realized how forward his words were and flushed. When he looked back she held his gaze, and nodded in gratitude, warming his chest more than the fire.

  “I’m inclined to camp here for the night,” Jeric said. “I think we’re close to a dark elf city and they would have heard our exit.”

  “You think they heard the stone breaking?” Water asked, motioning to the gaping hole in the wall.

  “They have sound magic that allows them to listen to everything,” Jeric said. “In a day or two they will find us and lead us out.”

  “Why wait?” Light complained. “I miss the sun.”

  “Do you know the way out?” Jeric asked.

  “No,” he said, looking to Water with hope.

  Water gestured to the underground stream. “I could follow that back to the surface, but we know what waits for us at the other end.”

  Light looked to Lira, but she shrugged helplessly. “I haven’t been on Lumineia in centuries. You expect me to know what lies underground?”

  Light groaned. “And what if the dark elves do not come?”

  “They will.” Jeric spoke with such confidence that Water was inclined to believe him.

  “We wait,” Water said, and when Light scowled, he added. “Two days. Then we venture out on our own.”

  Light reclined next to the fire with a groan, obviously intent on sleeping for the next two days. Jeric withdrew a string and began fashioning a fishing pole. Water regarded him for several moments and then motioned upward.

  “When did you meet Elenyr?” Water asked.

  “She has not told you?”

  “She does not share her tales of love with us,” Water said.

  Light grunted in irritation. “She’s overly protective of those secrets.”

  “I wonder why,” Lira said with a laugh.

  “I met her in my youth,” Jeric said. “I was devilishly handsome and she was captivating. Of course she had a sword on my throat, so I was rather distracted.”

  “What did you do to incite her ire?” Water asked.

  “A misunderstanding,” the elf said with a dismissive wave. “She thought I was with the bandits she’d come to punish, but I was merely a merchant seeking their ill-gotten goods.”

  “To return them?” Lira asked, raising her eyebrow.

  “Of course,” he replied, fastening the hook. “For a profit. Bandits steal, and the nobles paid me to retrieve their wares. It’s a delicate balance.”

  “I can see why she mistook you for a bandit,” Water said.

  “The next time we met was far more interesting,” Jeric said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “She and Shadow were hunting a thief from the Thieves Guild who had resorted to murder on several occasions. They needed help tracking him down.”

  “What was your price?” Lira asked, a frown creasing her forehead.

  Water hid a smile as he realized the woman still held ill feelings toward the elf for telling the dakorians the location of the temple. Unperturbed, Jeric leaned back against a rock and continued crafting his fishing rod.

  “I said a kiss on the cheek would suffice,” he replied.

  “I don’t believe she kissed you,” Water said with a snort.

  “Not that time,” he said with a broad smile.

  Water and Lira exchanged a look. Water wasn’t sure what to make of the elf. He was clearly devious, but he couldn’t be sure if his cunning was for their benefit or not. Before he could decide, Jeric stood.

  “I’ll be back with a meal.”

  “I could bring the fish to you,” Water said.

  “Where would be the fun in that?” Jeric asked. He winked and strode away, ascending a small outcropping of rock before dropping his line.

  “I want to hate him,” Lira said softly, “but I find him rather intriguing.”

  “I as well,” Water said.

  Lira yawned, and Water gestured to the ground. “You should sleep.”

  She shook her head. “I need a bath.”

  “Didn’t you already have one?” he asked with a smile, pointing to the lake.

  “No,” she said.

  She gathered her things and stood, going the opposite direction from Jeric. She disappeared behind a boulder and a moment later tossed her tunic on top of the rock. Water stared into the flames, his thoughts on what they’d learned in the Gate Chamber.

  Several minutes later he heard her hiss in pain. On his feet in an instant, he darted to the boulder. Keeping his eyes averted, he sought for the threat, but she was closer than he thought, and he caught a glimpse of her bare back.

  She hissed again, and tried to bandage the wound on her shoulder blade. He turned away, uncertain how to respond—offer aid, or retreat before she spotted him? He sought to withdraw but she turned, and their eyes met.

  “Since you’re here, mind helping me place the bandage?”

  “I’m sorry,” he said hastily. “It sounded like you were in pain.”

  “Are you going to help or not?”

  He nodded, and closed the gap. With great care, he helped wrap the bandage across the wound. It was a makeshift cover, but he was highly conscious of her bare back, and his hands fumbling to fasten the dressing. Then he noticed the marks on her back and his eyes widened. Scars marred her skin, white and ugly, stretching from her shoulder to her waist.

  “How did you get burned?” he asked.

  She donned her shirt, covering the scars before tightening her belt. “Ero’s experiments.”

  “Ero did this to you?” he exclaimed.

  She held his gaze. “Ero was not always benevolent,” she said cryptically.

  “Yet you trust him now?”

  She nodded. “With my life.”

  She turned and strode away, leaving him to his confusion. Try as he might, he could not fathom how
she’d come to forgive anyone for such an act, let alone work beside him. With a start he realized he knew very little about what had happened in the Dawn of Magic, and wondered if he would ever know.

  For the next two days they waited, and Water spent much of the time talking to Lira. He found her fascinating, and it seemed she found him fascinating as well. Light, predictably, slept most of the time, while Jeric seemed content to fish or read the book from his pack, The Dragon’s Sleep, ways to extend your life beyond the grave.

  Water enjoyed the time, and on several occasions, walked with Lira around the lake. He often wondered about Lira’s scars. She remained guarded, so he did most of the talking, and filled Lira in on the events of the last few thousand years.

  When rescue finally came, Water was loathe to depart. The sounds of boots came from a tunnel on the opposite side of the lake, and Light roused in an instant, eager to leave what he’d come to call his crucible. All four turned and looked upward to the host of caves dotting the far side of the cavern. Out of the largest, a figure appeared, but it was not who Water expected.

  He’d expected a scout, a dark elf garbed in the traditional gear of a hunter. But the dark elf standing in the opening wore a silver mask and a black robe. For several moments the four stared at the newcomer until another appeared at his side. This one was a soldier, but not like those Water had seen in the army. He wore matching dark armor, a bare sword in his hand. Then another appeared, and another, the soldiers filling the opening.

  “I don’t think they’re friendly,” Light said.

  “They wouldn’t be,” Jeric said, and Water noticed he had drawn his weapons, turning them into a large shield and a sword.

  “You know who they are?” Water asked.

  “Many regard them as a myth,” Jeric said wryly. “They were a legend, a story to frighten children.”

  The robed figure in the mask raised a hand and pointed at them, and without a word the dark elves leapt from the opening, a silent flood of armored soldiers. They raced down the slope and across the water, their boots splashing on the surface of the lake, sending ripples toward the banks. Water’s eyes widened as he saw how many soldiers had come for them.