City of Fractured Souls

by Olivia Ash

  When everything was said and done, this whole mess behind them, he would confront the soldier and never let him live it down.

  The two men ran across the room, avoiding the circle trap. The captured guards shouted as they did.

  “Get them!” one guard yelled from inside the invisible trap. He pulled his sword, but the hilt butted up against the invisible wall and he couldn’t fully unsheathe the weapon. Not that it would do him any good. He looked to his buddies, frustration marred his expression.

  Two guards who’d just run into the room came at Edric and Ezekiel. Edric moved in front of the sorcerer, with his sword raised. He made short work of them both. Their bodies dropped to the ground, blood gushing from gaping gut wounds.

  They quickly made their way toward the stairs. Before he and Ezekiel were halfway there, a flash of bright light filled the room, counteracting Ezekiel’s spells and traps. The trapped guards were released and faced both Edric and Ezekiel with their hands on their swords. This time, each of them were able to unsheathe their weapons and held them at the ready.

  A tall, reedy man with a pointed bald head, long white beard, vivid blue eyes, and hands glowing with magic stepped through the destroyed doorway of the inn. This had to be Tryce Klatrix, the great sorcerer, hired to destroy them. Beside him stood three more guards and Marlow, who had been Edric’s second in command. Malcolm had been right, the man looked pleased at the opportunity to take Edric’s place. Anger boiled in his gut. To think, men he trusted with his life took the first opportunity to turn on him. He shook his head and pulled on his own weapon.

  Marlow sneered. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time, Axton.”

  The guards rushed forward, surrounding them. Edric took up a defensive stance, and Ezekiel did too, his hands sparking with power. A dark form swept into the room. Andreas, in all his dark and brutal wraith embodiment, jumped between him and Ezekiel.

  Mouth open, the blood-red glow pouring out with a shriek, Andreas enveloped one guard and lifted him into the air, tossing him against the wall. Edric heard his bones snap. The guard’s body fell to the floor, broken.

  Two arrows whizzed through the room from the stairs, taking down two more soldiers before they could reach Edric and Ezekiel. Edric glanced to his left to see Sophia, armed with her bow, bursting out from the shadows. His heart pounded at the sight of her. He hadn’t realized how worried he’d been.

  Tryce lifted his hands and fired bolts of white magic toward Edric. Both Ezekiel and Sophia reached for Edric with their magic, constructing a protection shield in front of him. The white bolts bounced off and fizzled to the ground.

  With no time to thank them, Edric was thrust into a melee, Marlow at the head, swinging his sword. Edric blocked his blade, and then countered, bringing his sword around to Marlow’s flank. The tip of Edric’s blade only brushed against the man’s metal breastplate, creating sparks. Another guard joined Marlow’s side, eyes narrowed with deadly intent.

  Edric risked a glance to Ezekiel, who had his hands full with Tryce. White and blue beams of magic bounced off walls and the floor, zipping by Edric and leaving scorch marks everywhere, singeing the hairs on Edric’s bare arms. He had to dance out of the way of one errant ray that would have burned a hole through his leg had he not moved.

  Marlow charged Edric again with another wide swing of his broad sword. Edric ducked to the left and brought his sword up from an upward swing, slicing the man across the leg between pieces of leather armor. Marlow grunted and stepped back to examine the new cut that would leave an awfully nasty scar. His eyes lifted to Edric and narrowed. He thrust his sword toward Edric’s gut. Edric swung his body to the right, twisted to the left, and brought his blade around. It met Marlow’s steel. The clang echoed. The hard blow jarred Edric’s hands and arms with a painful shock. Edric clenched his teeth, pressing his lips tight, and shuffled back a few steps to attack again. The tight quarters made every move twice as difficult.

  Movement in his periphery caught his attention and he shifted his gaze to Sophia. She fought with her sword now. Two guards advanced on her. They had her pinned against the staircase with nowhere to retreat. But he knew she would fight her way out. She had more skill than most of the men in his unit.

  Marlow shouted, “Kill the bitch!”

  Several guards charged toward Sophia. Edric ran after them. He cut one down by chopping at his legs, but two more seemed to appear out of nowhere to take his place. There were too many, swarming from all directions and all at once.

  Before he could take out another guard, Winston rushed into the inn with several more guards on his tail. They carried something between them. Winston ran toward Edric and the guards and Sophia.

  “No!” Winston yelled. “Do not kill her!” He swung at one of his own men in front of him with his sword and cut open his belly.

  Edric saw an opportunity to take the traitor out and charged forward. Before he could reach the lying bastard, he took a heavy blow to the flank. He faltered to the side, and the wind was knocked from his lungs. He turned just as Marlow hit him again with a flail. Thankfully, the swinging metal ball didn’t have spikes. Although, the weapon had enough force to knock Edric to the ground. He took in a deep breath and winced as sharp pain stabbed through his chest. Some of his ribs were broken with the impact.

  Winston stood over him with the pointed tip of his sword pressed into Edric’s neck. “If you know what’s good for you, and her,” he nodded toward Sophia, “You will stay down.”

  Sophia let out an angry war cry and fought her way out of the corner she’d been pressed into, slicing down man after man. Edric realized she was trying to make her way to him. He didn’t have the heart to tell her to stop. Not that she would listen anyway. She was stubborn and standing up for what she felt was right—which meant she would never stand down.

  “Capture the wraith,” Winston commanded to the guards that accompanied him.

  Edric watched as they nodded and moved to where Andreas fought off guards from his corner of the small room. He had busied himself with slicing and clawing at faces and body parts. He didn’t see them coming. As the four men moved, spreading out from each other, Edric recognized they held a net in their hands, spreading it out as they moved closer. Each end held a weighted ball made of steel.

  “Zeke!” Edric yelled. “Help Andreas.”

  Winston shoved the pointed sword into Edric’s throat, piercing his skin with a burning sensation. “Not another word, or I’ll run you through,” he said.

  Ezekiel still heard and turned his attention toward the men moving in on the wraith. He formed a ball of blue light in this hand and prepared to throw it at the guards with the net, but he was too late. They rushed to close the gap, tossing the net over Andreas. Although his wraith form was made of dark swirling smoke, Andreas still had physical form. The net brought him down hard to the floor, the weighted, steel balls held him firm. All he could do was wiggle and writhe under the weight of the net. He shifted back to his human from. The guards that captured him held their swords pointed at him in case he tried to escape.

  “I’m going to kill you!” Sophia shrieked as she cut through another two men to advance on Winston.

  Watching her rage tore at Edric’s heart. She fought a fruitless battle. Ezekiel dropped to his knees, his hand going to his throat. The other sorcerer clenched his fist, brilliant, white light exploding from it.

  They were defeated.

  Sophia screamed, “No!”

  “Surrender, Sophia,” Winston said. “It’s over.” He held firm, lips pressed into a grim line and nodded at her. To prove his point further, he added pressure to his sword, forcing the tip a little more into Edric’s neck. He winced and tried to pull away from the blade, but the wall wouldn’t give.

  The expression on her face as she realized there was no way out for them tore at Edric’s heart. The feeling was like someone had punched through his chest and clenched his heart to keep it from beating. He’d failed to k
eep her safe. To keep them all safe. He had to make it right somehow. But their situation was dire and there didn’t seem to be any other way out of this. He couldn’t even reassure her that this was not her fault, though he knew even his words would do little in the way of comforting her.

  She lowered her sword, resignation in her expression. Two guards quickly moved in and grabbed her arms. They dragged her toward him and Winston. Winston sheathed his sword and waved a hand toward Tryce. Edric rubbed at the spot on his neck, pulling back blood-tinged fingers. It wasn’t a deep cut, but definitely enough to make Edric want to kill Winston all the more.

  “Don’t kill the sorcerer,” he said.

  Tryce dropped his fist, and Ezekiel slumped forward onto his hands and took in several deep breaths. He coughed and rubbed at his neck to soothe the ache that must have been there.

  Winston smiled, gloating at his victory. “Planning this entire dance wasn’t easy, you know. There were quite a few men who didn’t want to play along.”

  Edric knew he spoke about the men who remained loyal to him. Men like Malcolm.

  “But they changed their minds after a few hours of…” He smiled again. “Let’s say, rigorous conditioning.”

  Torture. That’s what the asshole meant.

  Edric stared coldly at Winston and said, “You’re a sniveling coward, Kent. Without all these men behind you, you would be absolutely nothing, and I would have my knife through your throat.”

  “Yes, but I still won, and you’re going to be dead soon enough.” He nodded toward Marlow.

  Edric received a hard blow to the side of his head, and everything went black.

  Chapter Ten

  Sophia

  Sophia yanked at the chains holding her against the stone wall, forced to watch five soldiers holding Andreas as Winston slid a needle into his arm and injected him. She assumed it was hemlock, so he couldn’t shift into his wraith form. That had worked so well the last time they were caught in a similar predicament, only that had been due to the headmistress. And Winston would share Mittle’s fate—Sophia was going to kill him for that and so much more. She couldn’t reach her love. The steel was too strong, and she was too far away. They had purposely chained her to the wall by the wrists and ankles on the opposite side of the prison cell from where they had chained up her men. This way, she could watch every cruel thing done to them, like dosing Andreas with hemlock.

  He struggled against their hold and managed to kick one guard in the face before they secured his ankles and broke his nose. But there were too many of them, and he’d already started to suffer the effects of the hemlock coursing through his veins, weakening him.

  Ezekiel was chained with his arms strapped wide apart, and by the sigil on the metal cuffs, Sophia assumed he was under some sort of enchantment that prevented him from being able to use his magic. All he could do was watch, sagging against the stone, defeat making his face hard. Sophia hated seeing him so broken.

  Edric had been dragged into the room unconscious and was just starting to come around. He shook his head and tried to get to his feet, leaning heavily against the stone wall. “You’re going to regret this,” he said, his voice calm and measured, cold as ice. “When I get out of these chains, I’m going to kill every single one of you.”

  The four guards, who hadn’t been kicked by Andreas, stepped away, their gazes flitting everywhere but in Edric’s direction. Sophia saw the fear on their faces as she memorized each and every single one of them. They should be afraid. Because she would help Edric gut them like pigs the moment they got free.

  Once finished with drugging Andreas, Winston quickly moved back, out of striking distance, and handed the needle to one of the guards. “Leave us.”

  The guards left quickly and without question. The last one shut the prison door behind him. The audible locking sound reverberated against the stone and echoed in Sophia’s ears.

  With a final glance at the door, Winston paced the room, letting his eyes settle on each of them as though he were inspecting stock for a banquet.

  “I can’t tell you how many times I dreamed of this day,” Winston said, as he stopped near Edric. “I was promoted just for this occasion. Did you know that? I considered asking for your old job, but I want to go higher than a mere commander. The duchess likes me, so one day soon, I’ll even replace my father as general.”

  “My men won’t follow you,” Edric said. “They will never follow a half-cocked, traitorous asshole like you.”

  “Yes, I know, that’s why they are all either dead or rotting in one of these cells.” He shrugged. It may have been a small matter to him, but those men meant so much more to Edric. Sophia knew that meaning. She understood how much his men mattered to him. She tugged at the chains again, hoping to loosen the plate in the stone wall.

  Edric also pulled at his chains, which caused Winston to jump back. Sophia smiled at that. He was such a coward, frightened of her men, even when they were chained up.

  He turned and took a couple of steps toward her. His gaze traveled from her feet to her head. She forced back the shiver that his greedy eyes gave her. His hand went to the hilt of the sword he carried, and he pulled it from the sheath. The King’s Sword. The one the oracles had given her.

  Damned thief.

  Winston lifted it up, inspecting the weapon. “Beautiful blade. I took this for safe keeping.” He leered at her from over the sword. “I still have high hopes for you, dear Sophia.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  He sheathed the sword and took out her dagger from his belt. The gift from Grindel. She gritted her teeth and clenched her hands, imagining wrapping them around Winston’s neck and strangling him to death. But that would be too merciful of a way for him to die. He was lucky she still wore her gloves and that her magic didn’t burst out of her with a mind of its own.

  “The inlay work on this one is extraordinary.” He held it up to the meager light provided by flickering torches on the wall. “The old man gave this to you, didn’t he?” He sneered. “Too bad he’s dead. I think I’ll hang on to this one as well.”

  Sophia yanked at her chains. The metal cuff dug into her wrists. “I’m going to cut out your eyes with that dagger.”

  “I’m just hanging onto it until you’re better.” He smiled and winked.

  She frowned, forcing back the urge to vomit. Better? What does he mean by that?

  He swiveled on his heel, sheathed the dagger on his belt, and walked in front of her men. Andreas struggled with his chains, pulling at them so hard that blood ran down his arms where the metal cut into him.

  “I would save your strength, if I were you, wraith. You’ll need it when you’re banished to the mountain.”

  Andreas glanced at Ezekiel and Edric.

  Winston chuckled. “That’s right. After the trial, the three of you will be sent to the mountain.” He turned and smiled at Sophia. “While darling Sophia, here, is sentenced to death.”

  “You bastard,” Edric said. Zeke and Andreas fought against their chains.

  Winston faced them again and watched as he got some sort of sick enjoyment out of seeing the men struggle against their bonds. “Oh, you don’t have to worry. You see, I’ll have her locked in a cell for years to rehabilitate her. I’m doing this as a service. Waste not, want not.”

  A knock rapped at the cell door. Metal clicked, and it opened. Winston turned as the sorcerer, Tryce, walked in. His long blue robes trailing behind him made him look like royalty.

  “Ah, yes.” Winston moved toward Andreas, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at him. “He’s the one.”

  Ezekiel came to life, pulling at his chains. “What are you going to do?”

  “Just a little insurance that the wraith gets what’s coming to him,” Winston said.

  Tryce stood in front of Andreas, calm as he could be. There was no emotion on his face. In fact, his expression was like stone. Sophia forced back a gulp as she had only heard rumors of this famed sorcerer until he showed
up with the intent to kill earlier. He reached under his robe and pulled out a small vial filled with a dark liquid and a quill. He nodded to Winston, who rushed over and grabbed hold of Andreas’s arm. The same arm he had just injected hemlock into.

  Andreas tried to pull away, but Winston proved too strong, seeming to easily hold his arm in a vice grip. Sophia knew it was only because Andreas had already been weakened by the hemlock. He even looked pale, almost sickly.

  The sorcerer mumbled words under his breath. She couldn’t make them out, but by Ezekiel’s pained expression, they were bringing about something harmful. Tryce then dipped the quill into the vial and drew a sigil onto Andreas’s forearm. From the distance, she couldn’t make out what the symbol was. She probably wouldn’t be able to identify it anyway, as she wasn’t proficient in sigil magic. Still, Ezekiel’s expression turned sour and he shook his head.

  Yup, it was bad. And Sophia added Tryce onto her hit list.

  When Tryce finished, he took a step back and spat on Andreas’s arm. That was when Sophia knew Andreas had been cursed. The many books she was forced to read throughout the years spoke of curses ending with the disdain and intent of the giver. Often times, the curse was sealed with spit, and nothing could undo the ill-fated spell except the caster himself. As far as she could remember, that had never happened. At least, according to her books, anyway.

  “Thank you, Tryce,” Winston said. “You will be greatly rewarded for your service. You could have the Wickham estate if you wanted.” Winston sneered at Ezekiel.

  Tryce nodded to Winston but said nothing. He moved silently to the door and left without so much as a backward glance.

  “What happened, what did that sorcerer do?” Sophia asked, looking at Ezekiel.

  Ezekiel sighed, and shook his head. “Vexsnare curse.”

  Sophia gasped. Grindel had taught her about the beasts that lived in the woods and in the mountain. Many she’d come to know, and they weren’t as rabid as people claimed them to be. But vexsnares were something different. She’d never seen a vexsnare, as they lived in the mountain, and she was glad for it. They were said to be four-legged beasts with a wolf’s head and snakes for a mane, with bony spikes lining their backs. Vexsnares were fierce trackers and could hunt their prey for months over miles of terrain. They also had a healthy appetite for wraiths and had been one of the reasons the wraiths had fled the mountain.