A Soul for Vengeance (7 page)

Magic rippled through her veins, locking her muscles in place. Her pulse doubled.
“Loku, what are you doing?”

“Making sure no one finds you.”

The magic continued to build, swirling inside like a blizzard before it finally exploded from the soles of her feet. The ground rumbled, and a loud crack echoed through the silent night.

Arden pushed back, gathering her own magic to overcome Loku’s. She managed to gain control of her head long enough to look behind her and wish she hadn’t.

A wall of white was tumbling straight for her.

“Let me go, let me go,”
she begged, directing her magic to her firmly planted feet. Her horse whinnied, straining at the reins locked in her frozen hand. Cinder whined and nudged her, but Loku’s spell kept her as still as a statue.

The avalanche rolled toward her faster than she could run. Fear tightened around her throat.
“Loku, please, release me, or you’ll be without a Soulbearer.”

Laughter filled her mind as the spell vanished. She dove to the side, barely escaping the river of snow that poured out of the narrow pass. Several long seconds passed before she finally had enough of her wits about her to shout his name.
“Loku!”

And yet, he continued to howl with laughter.
“You should have seen how worried you were.”

“Why did you try to kill me?”

His laughter slowed.
“I wasn’t trying to kill you, my dearest. When you are you going to learn to trust me?”

“When you stop taking control of my body and putting me in harm’s way.”

“One day, you’ll learn that the only thing you can do to truly be in harm’s way is to disobey me.”

A shiver coursed down her spine, rippling her skin with gooseflesh. Had she been so lax with Loku that he now felt like he could threaten her?

Arden dug herself out of the drift and shook the snow from her now wet clothes. Her horse had bolted toward the palace the moment her grip weakened. There was nothing more she could do but follow him. But once she got her mother’s necklace back, she needed to give some serious thought to returning to the Conclave and learning how to control him better. She didn’t want to know how close she’d get to death the next time Loku decided to take control of her.

An hour later, she stood at the front door of the palace. It was very different than the lordly homes of Ranello, which all seemed to be surrounded by thick stone walls. The owner of this home obviously felt he was secure in his location not to need one. Perhaps it was due to the narrow pass and its avalanche risk that lead to this valley. Perhaps it was due to the magical blue orbs that hovered above the roof and focused their light on her as she approached. Either way, no one could escape notice if they tried to sneak up on this place.

She reached out her hand to knock on the door, but it opened before her finger could grasp the golden knocker shaped like a rose. A man with almost colorless pale blue eyes glared at her. The tips of his ears poked through his brown hair. “What is your business here?”

Not the warm welcome she would’ve liked, but she lifted her chin and told the elf, “I’m Arden Soulbearer, and I’ve come to collect my necklace.”

The elf’s brow rose ever so slightly, the only sign of recognition he gave before stepping aside to allow her to enter. “Wait here.”

As soon as the door closed behind her, a wave of magic surrounded her, drying her dripping cloak and penetrating the deepest recesses of her boot to warm her frozen toes. Despite the elf’s rude reception, something about this place welcomed her. It called to her deepest part of her soul and granted it the solace she’d spent years yearning for. She’d always longed for a place to call home, and for the first time in her life, she felt like she belonged someplace. She closed her eyes and savored the moment after her long journey.

The moment vanished when she opened them again and found Varrik di Miloria watching her from the stairs, his body tense with wariness. “Welcome to my home, dau—I mean, Arden.”

Raw emotions pumped through her veins with each beat of her heart. Anger. Betrayal. Loss. Vengeance. And something else she refused to acknowledge, no matter how urgently it vied for her attention. Varrik was the man who’d seduced her mother. He was the man who sired her. And he was the man who’d abandoned her mother before she was born.

She clenched her hands into fists and tried to keep her voice civil. “I’ve come for my mother’s necklace,” she repeated. As long as she remained focused on the reason she’d come here, she wouldn’t have to deal with all the unwanted emotions associated with being in her father’s home.

A home that would’ve been hers if he hadn’t left her mother behind in Ranello.

He glided down the stairs slowly, his gaze never leaving her face. “Is that the only reason you’ve come?”

So many of Arden’s features came from her father—her eyes, her hair, her nose. How much pain had she caused her mother by reminding her of the one man she’d loved and lost? And did he ever think about the woman whose heart he’d destroyed after he returned to Gravaria?

She opened her mouth to tell him yes, but her chin quivered to the point where she didn’t trust what words may come out.

Because despite spending years hating a man she’d never met, she wanted to know more about him now that she was face to face with him.

But instead, she surrendered to her stubborn pride and merely nodded.

The light faded from his blue eyes, and his shoulders fell. “Very well. But please, why don’t you make yourself comfortable here?”

“I have no intention of staying longer than needed.” Her words sounded cold and harsh, so different from the whimpering child inside who begged her to accept his invitation. “Just give me my necklace back, and I’ll no longer burden you with my presence.”

The corner of his mouth rose. “You’ll be here for quite a while, Arden. An avalanche closed the only way in and out of this valley, so you’re stuck here until the snow melts.”

And somewhere in the back of her mind, Loku laughed hysterically.

Chapter 6

Kell slid down from the cart and stretched. Another day of being jostled from side to side until his body ached. Another day of witnessing the desolation and destruction the war with Thallus had caused. Another day of staring in awe at the massive windmills the Thallians had built along the skyline to power their machines. And another day of watching Zara constantly looking over her shoulder and jumping at the slightest sound.

Tonight, she’d led them to an abandoned barn. The rats had eaten holes through the thatched roof, allowing the snow to pour in and the wind to swirl through, but the solid walls offered some protection from the winter weather.

And it hid them from the patrols of Thallian soldiers that roamed the countryside, if Zara was to be believed. So far, though, he hadn’t come across one since they left Boznac, which suited him just fine.

Bynn’s sister barked out orders, designating duties to each of the men as they settled in for the night. All except him, of course. He caught her arm before she disappeared outside with her crossbow to “patrol” the area. “And what can I do?”

She shook his hand off. “You can stay put and focus on getting strong enough to help our cause.”

Her dismissal raised his hackles. “Are you saying I’m completely useless?”

Her eyes traveled from his face to his toes and back again. “At the moment, yes.”

Her reply heated his blood. He’d show her that he wasn’t useless. Every day, he pushed his body to do more and more, but it seemed he needed to work even harder if he wanted to take control. He glared at her, challenging her assessment of him until she finally turned away and went outside.

A growl of frustration rose from his chest as he returned to the corner of the barn where the men were building a fire and gathering ingredients for the evening meal. “Doesn’t it bother you that you’re taking orders from a woman?”

“Not as much as it seems to be bothering you,” Parros replied. He tossed a skin to Kell. “Here, have a sip of this and cool your temper.”

Kell took a long drink of the fortified wine, but his wounded pride found little comfort in the alcohol. “She should be under the care of her blood, following orders, not giving them.”

Parros leveled a knife at him. “Watch what you say about Lady Zara. She is here under the consent of her blood, and we follow her orders because she’s earned the right to give them, unlike some people.”

How dare that old knight reprimand him! He jumped to his feet, pointing to his chest. “Might I remind you that I’m a Prince of Ranello.”

“Then start acting like one.” Parros shook the knife at him like a wagging finger. “Instead of insulting Lady Zara, you should be thankful she found out where you were and organized all the events that led to your freedom.”

His angry retort faltered, and his hand fell to his side. “You mean Bynn didn’t organize this?”

Parros nodded and began slicing an onion into a pot. “Lord Bynn thought it was a huge gamble, but Lady Zara insisted on going. Said she had enough evidence to know you were still alive and was willing to risk her life on it.”

Kell sat back down, letting the knight’s words sink in. “What kind of world have I come home to where women are expected to risk their lives to rescue me?”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m some helpless female,” Zara said from behind him. She slung her crossbow over her shoulder and crouched beside the fire, warming her hands. “I’m a border lord’s daughter, Kell. I was trained more for battle than for batting my eyelashes.”

The frankness of her words reminded him this was a different Ranello than the one he’d left behind nearly eight months ago. How many other women were forced to take up arms to defend themselves and their homeland? The question stuck in his throat like a lump of bitter truth. “You’re still a woman and deserve to be protected.”

She stared into the fire for a long moment before turning to him. “Then be the prince we need you to be.”

That was a challenge that seemed far more difficult than the one she’d given him earlier. His body grew stronger every day, and soon, he’d be able to take his place in battle. But would he ever be ready to lead his people?

Zara ambled over to the cart and rummaged through the contents of the false bottoms until she pulled out a sword. She brought it to him. “This is how I knew you were still alive, that the rumors of you hiding in Gravaria were false.”

The firelight flashed on the mark made by the swordsmith, Foresco. Kell took the sword from her, its weight as familiar as an old friend. He wrapped his hands around the hilt and let the power of the magnificent weapon seep through his skin. This sword had been forged with magic and was meant for only him.

And now that he had it back, he felt more like a prince and less like a prisoner.

“Where did you find it?” he asked.

“In a shop in Boznac. I recognized it immediately.” She sat next to him, admiring the weapon. “No one has a sword like that.”

“How did you get it back?”

Zara and Parros exchanged glances before the knight cracked a grin and replied, “Let’s just say Lady Zara is used to getting what she wants.”

Bynn’s sister grinned and looked away. Somehow, he didn’t think she used her feminine wiles to procure the sword, not based on her response to his kiss years ago.

“Once I had it, I was able to figure out what ship you were on after questioning the merchant. Then, it was just making sure we could get you off of it.”

“Don’t make it sounds so simple.” Parros finished slicing up the last of the onion and started peeling a potato. “You worked very hard to set up this mission.”

“Including choosing the best men for the job.” Her face grew sober, making her appear years older than she really was. “But we’re still not finished. Once we have the prince safely within our camp, I’ll consider this mission a success. Until then, we need to be more cautious than ever.”

They ate their meal in silence and huddled under the thin blankets stored in one of the coffins. Snores filled the otherwise silent night, but sleep eluded Kell. Something about tonight’s conversation nagged him to the point where he wouldn’t be able to shut his mind off until he had the answer. Thankfully, the one person who might be able to answer that question was still awake.

He joined Parros by the dwindling fire. “May I ask you what you meant about Zara earning the right to give orders?”

The old knight stared into the fire, his posture relaxed. But from underneath his cloak, his sword shifted. “Lady Zara was at home when Thallus invaded.”

He didn’t need to say anything else. Cordello sat on the border between Ranello and Thallus and would’ve been the first duchy attacked when the Thallians crossed the mountains. They wouldn’t have had the time to be warned, to prepare. They were the front line. “Was the duke home, too?”

“Yes,” Parros replied, his voice tight. The sword scraped against the loose gravel. “When he fell in battle, Lady Zara took over. She fought as well as any man, as bravely as any knight. And she suffered as much as any of us.”

Kell turned his attention to the small, curled-up form across the fire. “If she was a leader, then why didn’t the Thallians take her prisoner?”

“Because they left her for dead.” Parros’s shoulders tightened, and his sword disappeared under his cloak. “When she tells you to become stronger so you can help our cause, Your Highness, it’s only because she’s had to do it herself. I consider it an honor to fight alongside her, just as I had her father.”

The knight’s gaze went from the fire to Zara, then traveled around the barn to all the men sleeping inside before coming to Kell. “Did you know that despite Lord Bynn’s hesitation, more than thirty men volunteered to join Lady Zara on this mission? These men you see here were chosen by her, and we all would follow her until we drew our last breath.”

If he was going to lead his people, he could start by learning from Zara’s example. “And what is it about her that inspires such loyalty?”