The Spirit Heir
Authors: Kaitlyn Davis
THE
SPIRIT
HEIR
A Dance of Dragons #2
By Kaitlyn Davis
Kindle Edition
Copyright 2014 Kaitlyn Davis
Cover Art: Manipulated by Kaitlyn Davis from attribution licensed flickr creative commons photos by
Zaraut B
,
John Morgan
,
Francois
,
Brenda Clarke
, and
Jason Jenkins
, and a DeviantArt brush by
XResch
.
World Map: Illustrated by Sarah Faith Morris (
Sylva Knight
)
The right of Kaitlyn Davis to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the author, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be direct infringement of the author's rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
This is a work of fiction and any resemblances between the characters and persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
ALL WORKS BY KAITLYN DAVIS
A Dance of Dragons
The Spirit Heir
The Phoenix Born – Coming Soon!
A Dance of Dragons – The Novellas
The Silver Key
Midnight Fire
To my family for their unconditional love,
my friends for their overwhelming support,
and my fans for their incredible enthusiasm.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
The A Dance of Dragons Novellas
The Complete Midnight Fire Series
1
JINJI
~ RAYFORT ~
Something about the dark made time pass both slowly and quickly. There was no dawn. No dusk. No trail of twinkling stars leading to the start of a new day.
And yet, there were other signs.
The drip of invisible water, counting the seconds as they wandered by. The scuff of metal on stone, hinting that other life rested out of reach. The pain of raw flesh, promising that death was close, but still so far away.
And the screams
, Jinji thought, shuddering. The screams came once a day, echoing through the void, crawling over her skin, haunting her.
There had been no screams for a while, but that didn’t mean they were done. It meant they were closer than ever. And Jinji knew that time was running out. It would soon be her cries of agony that rippled across these moist stones, filling the damp air.
Every day someone new was taken. At first she didn’t know why, but gradually Jinji came to understand. One man shouted,
I don't know anything
. Another,
I'm sorry
. Still more pleading for forgiveness, denying any involvement, promising to swear loyalty. The traitors of Whylkin groveling at the feet of their failures.
And somehow, Jinji had been placed among them, to rot in the dungeons until it was her turn to be questioned—and the spirits knew what else.
She shifted her weight, wincing as the shackles holding her hands scraped against her wrists, a stinging pain she was almost getting used to. Almost.
I can help you
, the voice said.
Stop
. Jinji sighed, wishing for peace in what little time she had left.
Somehow, her mind had been invaded. When she had awakened in the dungeons, something woke up with her—inside of her. Jinji had no idea who, or what, it was—crawling around, making a home, trying to force a past on Jinji that she wanted nothing to do with. All she knew was that she had touched the shadow and now found herself possessed.
Talk to me. Let me ease your worry, your fears. You do not have to be alone, not while I am here. There is much to be done. Please—
Jinji gritted her teeth and slammed her head back against the stone, blinking as colors flashed before her eyes.
Get out of my head
, she yelled back—but the voice was gone, pushed out by the pain as it always was. The voice would return, Jinji knew. It would try to talk to her again, to coax her into submission under the cover of kindness.
But mostly, the voice came to her in dreams—the only time she could not force it from her mind. Memories springing to life in sleep, calling to her, urging Jinji to welcome them. Sometimes, she wanted to give in, to open her thoughts, and let the mystery reveal itself. But then what? Would the voice have control? Would Jinji still remember who she was, would she remember her family, would she remember Rhen?
It was not a risk she was willing to take.
Pain was familiar to her now. She had begun to welcome it with open arms. Pain at least was predictable, comforting in that it always felt the same.
Pain of the body.
The pain in her soul was different though. It crept up on her when she least expected it, stealing her breath, making her chin quiver and her eyes burn with dryness.
Rhen
. She sighed.
The ache in her heart scorched, the sort of fire only Rhen could quell. If he were alive. If he could forgive her. If she could just see him one more time.
So many questions without answers.
The last time Jinji had seen Rhen, a day that seemed so far away yet so close to her heart, he had been dying. Stabbed in the gut by the shadow, left in a heap on the ground, cradling his wound, holding onto life with all the strength he had left.
Jinji had abandoned him to fight the shadow, to kill the dark spirit that had murdered her people, to save Rhen from its deadly grasp. But she had woken here, surrounded by night with no memory of the fight. No idea if the shadow still lived or if she had succeeded in its demise. Or far worse, if it rested inside of her now.
Would she ever know if she had been fast enough?
The possibilities weighed heavily on her conscience.
If Rhen had died, it would explain why she remained in captivity. No other man of Whylkin would vouch for her loyalty, would risk himself to release her from this prison. But if he were dead, then everything was lost. Everything. Rhen had become her family, her best friend, her home. If he were gone, Jinji was not sure she could live—how much fight did one person have in them? How much suffering could one person overcome?
Yet, if he had lived…
The possibility scared Jinji even more. Because then she was truly alone, abandoned without even his memory to hold close. If Rhen were alive, then he had willingly left her down here to slowly suffer, to die where he could not hear or see. By now, he would surely know she was a woman—meaning he had chosen not to forgive her, meaning her lie was more than he could bear.
