A Soul For Atonement (The Soulbearer Series Book 4) (6 page)

“If I listened to our uncle, you’d be bound in mithral chains right now.” Marist stepped aside, but her icy gaze didn’t falter. “Be careful, Arden. Don’t give in to Loku’s demands. And don’t surrender to him if you should fail.”

Arden stopped short, her breath catching. What would she do if she failed?

“
You won’t fail, my little Soulbearer. Not if you give me what I want
.”

A pain squeezed in the center of her chest. It would be so simple to cast a spell on her father, to force that information from him, to invade his mind as her cousin had done to so many others and search until she’d unlocked his secrets. But unlocking those secrets came at the cost of betraying him and the fragile relationship they’d built.

“
Why should you care?”
Loku asked.
“After all, wasn’t he the man who left your mother alone and pregnant?
”

She reached for the pendant she’d worn for years, only now it was Dev’s pendant she wore, not her mother’s. “
She was the one who chose to stay behind in Ranello
.”

“
And yet, if he truly loved her, he would have come back for her
.”

Doubt slithered into the far corners of her mind. She’d only known her father for a year. She’d known Dev longer. And maybe her father would forgive her once she justified her actions by saving Dev.

Arden met her cousin’s gaze and drew in a deep, determined breath. “I won’t fail.”

***

Sazi perched on the roof of the tallest tower of the palace and searched the streets of Queembra below. Arden blended in with the city’s citizens, but Cinder burned as brightly as a torch before her sharp eyes. Even when he wasn’t on fire, his fur shimmered like flames. She waited, tracking their movements until they passed through the last of the city’s gates.

Worry troubled her soul when she saw which road they took.

She stretched out her wings and glided down to the balcony outside the empress’s private quarters. The open doors were the only invitation she needed, and she passed through the rooms until she found the empress writing at her desk in the study. “She’s taken the western road toward Lothmore.”

Marist looked up from her papers, her cheeks paling. “Leave us,” she said to her attendants.

Once they were alone, a silver halo flashed in her eyes, and she drew in a sharp breath. “So she lied to me.”

“Perhaps. Or perhaps
he
is controlling her path.”

“Ivis help us all if he succeeds.” Marist put down her pen and closed her eyes, her lips moving in silent words.

It was something Sazi had seen many times over the years. Like herself, Marist was a high priestess, a mortal chosen by the gods to receive their words and wisdom. The empress served Ivis, the Lady Moon and most worshipped deity in the empire.

Sazi waited patiently, resisting the temptation to commune with her own goddess. Unlike Ivis, Lireal rarely spoke. But when she did, Sazi listened.

Marist opened her eyes, the silver glow fading from them. “We cannot allow him to find his ashes.”

“And he will not. They are no longer at Lothmore, and Varrik knows not where they are hidden now.”

“That won’t stop Loku from trying to extract that information from him.” The empress leaned back in her chair, the burdens of both protecting her empire and serving her goddess creasing lines into her young face. “We should warn him.”

“Indeed.”

Marist pulled out another sheet of paper and began writing.

Sazi moved to a window and stretched out her wings, soaking up the warmth of the sun. The air had turned crisp and cool as of late, and winter would be here soon. Once again, her people’s crops had been meager, and the snow would bring a great time of starving.

Unless they recovered the Blood of Lireal.

Or appeased Lireal with a sacrifice.

Sazi’s soul protested the latter. She’d seen into Dev’s soul and knew the nobility it possessed. He was a man who deserved to live.

Please, merciful goddess, does it have to be this way?

She waited, but no answer came to her prayer. She folded her wings back and turned to find Marist pressing her seal into the wax.

“I’ll send this to Varrik right away so he’ll have time to prepare his defenses.”

Sazi reached for the letter. “May I take it to him?”

The empress blinked several times before narrowing her eyes. “Why?”

“Because I can fly faster than the Soulbearer can ride.”

“Why do I suspect there is more to this than you’ve told me?”

“Because there is.” Sazi lowered her eyes and bowed her head. “Please, Your Imperial Majesty, allow me to take this message to the Lore Keeper so that I may continue with the task given to me.”

“And if I don’t?”

Sazi lifted her gaze and rose to her full height, looking down on the young empress. “Then I will do what I must.”

“Is that a threat?” Marist tapped the letter in her palm, unfazed by what would intimidate a normal mortal.

“It is simply the truth.”

A few more seconds passed before the empress held out the letter. “Loku cannot be allowed to regenerate his body.”

“I know this.” Sazi took the letter, but Marist refused to release it until she had one final say in the matter.

“I will not betray my goddess.”

“Nor will I.” Sazi pulled the letter free from the empress. “I pray that I will not be tempted to consider otherwise.”

As she flew west toward the far mountains that surrounded Lothmore Palace, the heaviness in her soul refused to yield. Betrayal came at a price.

But so did obedience.

Chapter 7

Arden’s bones ached by the time she rode through the gates of Lothmore Palace. For two days, she’d pushed her horse to her limits, resting only when the mare refused to take another step. The cold bite in the evening air and flurries swirling around her signaled winter was not far behind, and a new worry settled over her heart. The last thing she wanted was to be trapped here all winter because of another avalanche in the pass like last time.

“
We’re here. Now what?”

“We force him to tell us where the urn is.”

A new worry twisted her gut from the malice in Loku’s voice. How far would he go to extract that information?
“And if he doesn’t?”

Vicious laughter echoed through her mind. Loku bore little love for Varrik, if their last stay in Lothmore was any indication, and she could almost taste the chaos god’s thirst for revenge over being outsmarted by the Lore Keeper.

“
I won’t let you kill him
,” she warned. “
If I need to contain you
—”

“
If you contain me, then you’ll never learn where he hid my ashes, and you’ll never find the Blood of Lireal
.”

She winced. Sweet Lady Moon, what kind of mess had she gotten herself into? As much as she hated to admit it, she was at Loku’s mercy.

Unless I find a way to do it on my own
. Giving Loku back his ashes was not without its own set of consequences, but her weary mind offered no other suggestions. She slid off her horse and made her way to the door.

It opened before she had a chance to knock. A brown-haired elf with almost colorless pale blue eyes greeted her with a barely suppressed sneer. Callix de Jaquoix, her father’s apprentice. “We’ve been expecting you, Soulbearer.”

“It’s always a pleasure seeing you, too, Callix.”

Time hadn’t dulled the loathing in his eyes as he stepped aside to let her enter. The Jaquoix family had ruled the Gravarian empire for centuries, but it was the marriage of Renna di Miloria to the former emperor that established the shift in power. Her father had explained that it was more than just politics that seemed to fuel Callix’s mistrust of her. The first five Soulbearers had been members of the Jaquoix family, and her position as both Soulbearer and a member of the Milorian family was a threat to his own.

Just like the last time she entered the palace, a warm spell wrapped around her and drove the cold from her bones, welcoming her despite Callix’s chilly reception. She didn’t have to ask where to find her father. Varrik di Miloria was happiest among his books, and when he wasn’t in his massive library, he was in his small study. Since Callix mentioned they were expecting her, she went to the study first.

One only had to look at Varrik to see where Arden had inherited her fair coloring. What had made her freak and outcast in Ranello answered any doubts about who sired her. With the exception of the shape of her mouth, Arden was a feminine version of her father, right down to the pointed tips of her ears, which had long been cut away by her fearful mother.

Her father was pouring tea when she entered, but he wasn’t alone.

Near the window and looking rather uncomfortable in the confined quarters stood Sazi.

Arden stopped short and glared at the Ornathian. “What are you doing here?”

“Please sit down and have a cup of tea, daughter,” Varrik said without looking up.

Cinder abandoned her for a bowl of roasted meat beside the fireplace, but Arden stayed where she was. “Not until she answers my question.”

“
That’s it, Arden. Find out what she’s hiding, why she’s always interfering with your attempts to save Dev,
” Loku said. “
If I didn’t know better, I’d say she couldn’t wait to spill his blood
.”

The same image of Dev being led to the altar for execution flashed in front of her eyes, only this time, it was Sazi swinging the club.

Arden’s throat choked, and she stumbled back a step. The violent images were nothing more than Loku trying to bend her to his will by using fear, and yet, no matter how many times she told herself that, it did little to ease the panic swirling in her gut.

Sazi tilted her head to the side, her ebony brow creased with concern. “What is he telling you, Soulbearer?”

“Nothing of your concern.” She turned to her father. “If she’s here, then you already know what happened to Dev.”

“I do, and I’m terribly sorry to hear it.” He held out a cup.

Arden sized up the two mages before her, wondering what her odds were in successfully learning the new location of Loku’s ashes. “
Great, I’m already thinking like Dev. If this keeps up, I’ll be praying to Lady Luck.
”

“
Not as long as you have me
.” Loku’s magic filled her veins. “
We’re wasting time, Arden. Time Dev doesn’t have.
”

He was right. She should be finding what she came here for, not having tea with the man who held the information that could save Dev’s life. She succumbed in desperation and welcomed the power he offered her, but like a bursting dam, it overran her defenses and left her struggling for control.

Her father set the cup aside, his blue eyes deadly serious. “Arden, I strongly recommend you sit down and hear us out.”

Her mouth moved, but it was Loku’s voice that came out. “Where is it?”

“Where is what, Loku?” Varrik asked, the countenance of his face reflecting the same calmness as his voice.

Her muscles tightened like a tiger waiting to spring. “My body.”

“I don’t know.”

“Liar!” Before she could stop him, Loku lifted her arm and shot a ball of yellow-green magic from her palm toward Varrik.

Her father barely blinked as the spell collided with the protective dome of his shield. “Arden, remember, it’s you who control him, not the other way around.”

“Ah, but she let me take control.” Loku launched another spell, this time creating hundreds of tiny fissures in Varrik’s shield. “You’re no match for a god.”

The third spell shattered Varrik’s defenses, and her father fell to his knees. Loku wasted no time invading his mind. Years of memories flew by in a haze, but one particular memory drove the breath from her lungs.

Her mother’s face, staring up in love at her father.

Guilt slammed into her like a knight’s jousting lance, and she scrambled to regain control. “
Stop it, Loku
.”

“No, Arden,” he said aloud, “not until I find what I want.” A fresh wave of power surged through her, raw and greedy and full of hatred. Varrik cried out, pressing the heels of his hands to his temples. “Where did you hide it?”

Unshed tears gathered in the corners of her eyes as she watched her father suffer. She had to end this. She had to be the Soulbearer. Arden gathered her own magic and focused on the containment spells Dev and Varrik had taught her.

Before she could cast the first spell, though, something smashed against the back of her head, and her world turned black.

***

Callix’s chest heaved as he lifted the hilt of his sword to deliver another blow, if needed.

But the Soulbearer didn’t move. A trickle of blood flowed from the spot where he’d struck her, but the faint rise and fall of her chest told him he hadn’t killed her.