The Soulstoy Inheritance

by Jane Washington

  “Speaking of which…” He shifted around the room now, taking in Miriam, Rose and Cale, and then he looked back to me. “Where is the Power Thief?”

  “Apologising to his wife, I hope.”

  It was almost worth it, to see the dumbfounded look on Nareon’s face, but then the black rage began to worm into his expression, and I had to do something before he slipped back into his puppet and went after Harbringer.

  “Tell me about the Winter Festival,” I blurted, panic beginning to seize me at the far-away look falling over his grey eyes, his pupils retracting into needlepoints. “Nareon? Nareon!”

  He snapped back to me, and I was awarded the full force of that gaze, so full of danger that it made me flinch back to a memory of a bloodied Nareon crouched with me in the synfee prison cells.

  “Don’t even think about it,” I managed to keep my voice calm. “I mean it. If one more person dies, I won’t forgive you.”

  He flickered before my eyes, and I took a quick step toward him. “Please, Nareon…”

  He solidified again. “I’ll not hurt anyone, Spitfire.”

  Someone—Miriam, I thought—let out a loud breath of relief, and I felt my own shoulders slump, some of the panic draining away immediately.

  “So it’s decided, then?” I looked to Hazen, who surveyed the scene with his ever-unreadable, dark eyes.

  “Yes, it’s decided. I’ll come to your Winter Festival.”

  “Thank you.” I moved back to my seat and rubbed my temples. “Nareon, what do I need to know about this festival? Teddy, Quick and Sweet talk about it all the damn time, but I haven’t been paying much attention.”

  “I suppose it won’t be quite as spectacular this time around as it has been under my careful supervision,” he offered, seemingly back to his usual self.

  I scoffed. “Yeah, so the stories would suggest.”

  “However,” he smiled slightly, “the rules remain the same, for the most part. The peasants dress as nobles and the nobles as peasants for the main night of the festival. It’s quite amusing, really, as most of them don’t have the means to dress like the other, so the results can be varied. The monarchs dress as a season of their choice, with the hosting monarch being the only to boast the winter colours.”

  “How the hell do I dress as a season?” I interrupted.

  “Leave it to Flora—she’s probably been planning your costume for over a month now.”

  “Who’s Flora?”

  “The woman who makes your clothes. Really, Bea—you should know that. Anyway, on the first night, people mostly just drink and dance, and on the second, traditionally we have the big hunting party—“

  Ashen cleared his throat then, and Nareon paused. “Oh, right… of course, never mind about the hunting party. On the third day, there is another hunt, a citywide treasure hunt, organised by the advisors, who love that sort of thing. The winner traditionally gets a monetary prize, as that seems to motivate most people, though I did offer one of my mistresses a few years ago and it whipped up quite the frenzy.”

  Ashen cleared his throat again and this time Nareon grinned. “Ah… On the fourth day, the top three performing teams from the hunt the day before are pitted against each other for the river races, again organised by the advisors.”

  “How much of this festival is organised by the advisors?” I asked.

  “Whatever you don’t organise yourself, the advisors will do. They’re sick like that, Spitfire, they love to have people jumping through their hoops while they sit atop their judging boxes, marking off points depending on their personal biases.”

  Ashen snorted. “Is that how you won every year, Nareon?”

  Nareon put a hand to his chest, appearing quite affronted. “Why, brother, you wound me. I won fairly and squarely.”

  “So what happens on the fifth day?” I gently tried to nudge them back onto the topic at hand.

  “The Winter Festival is on the fifth day. Some people stay for a few days afterwards, just to complete the week.”

  “Alright.” I drummed my fingers against the table. “Ashen, will the advisors organise it the way they do every year, with a few exceptions that I really shouldn’t need to specify?”

  “Of course, Lady Queen.”

  “And Ashen…”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll find something to replace the hunting day.”

  “Thank you.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Antagonising the Upswing

  The first day of the Winter Festival week was anarchic enough that I held out no hope for the second day, let alone the fifth. The Renegade King turned up with a party of six, which had everyone on edge, as it could be considered neither a small party nor a large one. He was a brawny man with salt-and-pepper hair and flinty grey eyes. On his arm was a woman much younger than him, reminding me of Ayleth with her long dark hair and lovely eyes, though Ayleth’s irises were green, and this woman—Owl, they called her—had flecked, hazel eyes. Of the other five people that he brought, only one more was female, and she had a distinctly mousy quality; she seemed to blend right in with her surroundings, so much so that I wondered if she had an ability like Leif’s. Dom’s party was settled in the castle after the round of introductions were made, throughout which Dom eyed me skeptically, and greeted Ashen heartily, the way you would greet a familiar, old friend.

  I was standing in the courtyard when Hazen and the others arrived and I couldn’t help but laugh at the way they were led in, each blindfolded and escorted by one of my soldiers. It was a necessary precaution, to ensure that they couldn’t move back through the border on their own, though they had only been forced to do it because I didn’t want to be seen treating them differently to how I treated the Renegade party. Cale and Rose ran toward me at the same time, and I thought that they would simultaneously collide into me, so I turned to the side, shielding my face.

  I heard Cale laugh, and they both scooped me into a hug from either side, so that I had to wedge my arms free in order to hug them back. We fell over at some point, and Harbringer had to help me up, which caused everyone’s eyes to fix on his hand wound about my arm. Thankfully, he released me and stepped right back, while I moved straight onto Miriam, pretending the moment hadn’t happened. I drew her into a hug, kissed both of her cheeks, and she seemed delighted. Miriam was, as far as politics were concerned, a terrible queen. She was simply too loving, too quick to smile, and certainly too forgiving.

  “You grow more beautiful every day, Bea, and it is good to see you smiling again.”

  “How could I not?” I exclaimed, moving onto Hazen and throwing my arms around him. “You’re all here!”

  He chuckled and I spun away from him, too energised to stay in one place. I spotted Grenlow out of the corner of my eye, running toward me from the border and I paused, frowning. I couldn’t read the expression on his face from where I stood, but something had me walking toward him, my childish excitement forgotten.

  “What is it?” I asked, when he was close enough to hear me.

  “The vampire king is here. We sent him a cursory invitation as we do every year, but he never actually turns up.”

  I paused, shock grounding me.

  “What the hell do I do? Why do you always invite him? Are you crazy?”

  “You can’t turn him away, it would be considered a very hostile gesture. You have to accept him and house him as you have the others.”

  “This is a nightmare.”

  “They won’t hunt on your land, Lady Queen.”

  “I’ve never heard of any of the vampires travelling this far east,” Hazen mused, coming up to stand beside me.

  “It has happened once or twice before, but not in recent years. They must be curious.”

  “Curious about what?”

  “The Synfee Empire hasn’t had a new ruler in hundreds of years, and the circumstances of Nareon’s death are quite well-known by now. I’m not surprised at all that the story reached them.”

  He didn’t w
ait for an answer, but nodded as though I had given permission for them to be led in, and returned immediately to the border.

  “I don’t like this,” I muttered, looking to my left, where Miriam stood, brow crinkled in thought.

  “It might not be a terrible thing,” she mused. “I have not seen the four kingdoms united like this in my lifetime. And it isn’t the vampire king I’d be worried about, out of the five possibilities.”

  “Ahh, the human-suppression king,” I said.

  Hazen and Miriam both looked at me as though I had grown an extra head, and I blushed. “Quick mentioned something about him.”

  The vampires were lead over the border and I found myself shocked by their ultimately human-looking appearance. Their leader was obvious, as he walked at the front of their small procession, a long black cloak billowing out behind him. It wasn’t until he grew closer that I noticed the pallor of his skin, or the red-rimmed eyes that flittered around uneasily. He was as uncomfortable being here as I was having him here, it seemed.

  “Queen Beatrice.” He swept into a short bow, and I tried not to cringe at the lilt in his voice, lending it an abrasive quality despite the smoothness of the accent.

  I realised then that I didn’t know his name.

  Louis, Hazen’s voice sounded in my mind.

  “King Louis.” I didn’t know whether to bow or courtesy, so I just stood there. “You are welcome. Though I admit, I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “The alliance between our kingdoms has been tentative at the best of times,” he agreed, and then turned to Hazen. “King Hazen, I have heard good things.”

  Hazen, to my surprise, offered his hand, and a semblance of a smile, which Louis took, seeming to relax a little.

  “Interesting ability,” Hazen remarked, as he drew back again.

  Louis actually smiled then, and I had to hold back another cringe, deliberately shifting my eyes from the pointed incisors that flashed between his lips.

  “I am fascinated that you managed to guess it so quickly, but we can talk about that later, no? We have been travelling for some time.”

  “Of course.”

  Grenlow took them through the gates to the castle, and my gaze trailed after them, my worries barley eased by Louis’ unthreatening attitude. Once I had given them enough of a head start, I showed the others to their rooms myself. I had put Rose in Harbringer’s old chambers, and the others all had rooms on the same floor. Harbringer—while having consented to come back with me—had moved himself somewhere unknown to me, and barely spoke to me unless he needed to. I was glad for it, as whenever I set my eyes upon him, all I could see was the poor, faceless woman who should have been standing at his side. After settling in Miriam, Rose and Cale, I took Hazen to meet my advisors, who all waited in the council room.

  Ashen stood in a corner, seemingly muttering to himself—until I realised that Leif was standing beside him—and the others were seated; Dain between Cereen and Ayleth; Grenlow talking to Rohan while Isolde stared out the window. Harbringer sat in the windowsill, and didn’t turn when we entered the room.

  “King Hazen!” To my surprise, Ayleth slipped out of her chair, greeting Hazen far more enthusiastically than I had anticipated.

  She caught his hands, pressing a kiss to the back of each, and behind her, I saw a spark of annoyance flash across Ashen’s face. Hazen himself showed a typical lack of reaction, and when she released him, he greeted each of them politely by name, including Harbringer.

  Ashen hooked his foot around a chair and pulled it out, offering it to Hazen with a wave of his hand. Ayleth immediately moved to sit next to him, and Ashen shook his head at her. She ignored him.

  “You are a smart King indeed,” she almost cooed, placing her hand on his arm. “To unify with the Synfee Empire in times such as these. Whatever threat we face, it surely cannot outnumber the strength of Nareon’s empire and your own, combined”

  Hazen glanced at her, and then his dark eyes met mine, over the top of her head, perhaps sensing how her words had effected me.

  “It’s not Nareon’s empire anymore though, is it?” he said blandly.

  She contemplated me, and then ran her hand along his arm, apparently not affected by his rebuff.

  “My mistake. It is a hard frame of thought to break from, after so many years.”

  I tightened my hands into fists, struggling to keep a hold of my temper. She noticed, and smiled at me, her fingers tracing a tendon along Hazen’s forearm. Without warning, her chair flew backwards, legs scraping against the ground before flipping once and slamming back into the ground. She pulled herself off the floor and jerked to her feet, a snarl ripping through her throat as she turned on me.

  I looked down at my own hands, astonished.

  “Sorry, I ah… I didn’t mean that.”

  She picked up her chair, slammed it back into place and sat in it carefully, her eyes never straying from my face as she began to speak to Hazen again, pushing a mass of angry, coal-coloured curls over her shoulder.

  “So, King Hazen, we noticed that you brought no consort with you, as the other monarchs did. It is a pity that the Power Thief has been bedding our queen, otherwise we could have negotiated a beneficial match for both kingdoms.”

  My mouth fell open, and Harbringer jumped up from the windowsill, but to my surprise, it was Ashen who seemed the most outraged. He strode forward and grabbed Ayleth by the front of her dress, lifting her until her toes barely scraped the ground.

  “That’s enough,” he growled. “You will not ruin our plans to sate your spiteful thirst for revenge.” He set her roughly back to her feet and she shoved him hard in the chest before straightening to her full height and brushing imaginary wrinkles out of her dress.

  “I am merely stating facts,” she stated primly.

  “No.” The rough voice from the corner of the room brought my gaze to Leif. “You are not, Ayleth.”

  Leif actually talking seemed to ground us all a little bit, and Grenlow cleared his throat. “Alright, this has gotten out of hand—“

  “What plans?” I found myself interrupting, Ashen’s words only just penetrating my mind. “What are you talking about?”

  Ashen glanced at Ayleth again, the annoyance in his expression enough to confirm my fears.

  “Oh no!” I ground out, striding forward and grabbing Hazen’s arm, pulling him out of the chair just as the understanding also dawned on his face. The others must have been guarding their minds well.

  He looked equal parts uncomfortable and amused now, which was all the confirmation that I needed.

  “No!” I repeated, pointing at Ashen and then Grenlow. “Don’t even think about it!”

  And then I drew Hazen into the hallway and slammed the door behind me.

  “So that’s Ashen’s agenda.” Hazen chuckled. “Marry us off, and join the two kingdoms together?”

  “It’s not funny, Hazen! I’m not a damn whore to be auctioned off at their convenience!”

  He stopped walking, now laughing too hard to continue.

  “I can’t believe you just said that.”

  I made to punch him in the stomach, but he caught my hand, something glimmering in his dark eyes. “I think it’s time to really give it a go, don’t you?”

  For the second time in as many minutes, I felt my mouth fall open, and the words die on my tongue. The look in his eye shifted, and he tugged on my hand, drawing me closer.

  “Fighting, Bea. I’m talking about fighting. I think it’s time we give it a real go, see how we do against each other, what do you think?”

  It took me too long to regain the use of my wits, and by the time I did, I knew that he was seconds away from laughing at me again.

  “Yeah,” I croaked. “I can’t wait to wipe that stupid smile off your face.”

  Cale and Rose caught up to us on our way to the training yard, and by the time we got there, Quick had also found me.

  “Bea! I heard you attacked Ayleth again.” He brandished hi
s noticeboard. “That’s the third time now.” He was grinning, as if I had done something to be proud of.

  “Third time?” Hazen asked.

  “Yeah,” Quick turned to him with the lack of formality that I had always liked. “The first time…”

  “He doesn’t need to know,” I interrupted. “We’re going to fight—want to keep score?”

  “Naturally.”

  The training yard cleared for us in seconds, and those who had been using it gathered to watch as Hazen and I stood in the center, eyeing each other, but initiating no prelude to take up arms. Rose and Cale walked to the stand and climbed to the top tier, arguing about something quietly.

  “You better not be making bets!” I yelled after them, causing Cale to flash me a grin over his shoulder.

  As Quick perched himself atop the arms wagon, and shouted for us to begin, I switched my attention quickly back to Hazen. He had rolled up his sleeves, and looked about as calm and contained as he always did. I flew at him without preemption, knowing that the key to beating him would be to not plan my moves. He dodged too easily, and I increased the constant stream of energy that usually leaked out of me, causing the dirt to kick up around us in small whirlwinds and hopefully clouding my mind. The next time I ran at him, he was slower to react, but still managed to evade me just in time.

  “Fight back!” I goaded him.

  He grinned, and stepped casually in my direction, shadowing each step that I made to evade him, until his hands were on my neck and he was flinging me backward. I should have hit the ground, but I grabbed at his shirt, feeling the material rip as I used the momentum of my own fall to pull him down and regain my balance. He ducked instead of falling and anchored one arm around the back of my knees, knocking my legs out from beneath me. My back slammed into the dirt hard and cheers erupted from the onlookers. I grumbled and let him help me to my feet, and then I latched onto his other arm and twisted behind him, bringing his wrist with me and anchoring my free arm around his neck from behind. His arm should have been in too much pain for him to move, but the hand that I had anchored between his back and my stomach grabbed onto the side of my waist and managed to tear me off.