A Soul for Vengeance

Chapter 32



Arden held her breath as Dev leapt from the unsteady boat to the boulder along the cliff. He landed lightly on his feet, never wobbling even when the current yanked the rope in his hands. He pulled the boat to the rock and secured the rope. “Hurry—I don’t know much longer it will hold.”

A snap from the worn hemp only added to his warning. Arden took his hand and jumped from the small rowboat to the boulder, followed by Bynn and Kell. Her breath billowed out around her mouth in the pre-dawn chill.

“If I remember correctly, the gate is this way.” Kell waved for them to follow as he inched his way across the pile of rocks that formed a narrow beach between the river and cliff. “Found it!”

Arden held onto Dev as they picked their way forward over the slippery surfaces. Nestled in a crevice stood an old iron gate similar to the one she’d gone through when she took on Sulaino. It blended in so well with the rocks, she would’ve never known it was there. She reached out to touch it, searching for a crackle of magic but finding none. “It hasn’t been sealed by the Thallians.”

“That bodes well for us.” Kell stepped aside to make room for Bynn. “Time to challenge your lock-picking skills.”

Seconds ticked by with the beating of her heart, punctuated by the occasional curse from Bynn as he navigated the rusted locking mechanisms. At last, a creak came from the lock, followed by the groan of the door hinges.

The sky was lightening behind them, but the tunnel ahead remained dark and foreboding. Arden conjured up a ball of light. Dev added his, and together, they stepped inside.

“Just as I remembered,” he said, giving her a wry grin.

“We’re wasting time.” Kell pushed past them, reaching the edge of the light in a few strides. “Let’s go.”

“I hate the dark almost as much as I hate magic,” Bynn muttered behind them as they followed.

“I can always turn off my spell,” she replied.

“No, don’t,” he said with an edge of panic in his voice. “Just keep up with Kell so we don’t get lost.”

The tunnel wound up the cliff in a series of circular stairs before flattening out into the main chamber where she’d attacked Gandor and Larenis after they’d wounded Dev. “This looks familiar,” she said to Loku, carefully dropping one of her shields.

“Yes, my little Soulbearer, it does. Care to free me a bit more so I can help you?”

She bit her bottom lip. She’d released him enough to where he could offer a warning, but she knew better than to give him too much leeway in a time like this. “We’ll see.”

“You know you don’t stand a chance without me.”

As much as she suspected he was right, she refused to give into the temptation to free him right now. Arden slipped her hand into Dev’s, letting him ground her enough to push those doubts out of her mind. “If we need you, I’ll let you free.”

“Oh, that’s so generous of you. Perhaps I’ll do nothing in return.”

She squeezed Dev’s hand, Loku’s threat not fazing her a bit. She knew what leverage she had over him. “If I die, then you’ll lose me as your Soulbearer.”

Dev squeezed her hand in return. “Staying grounded?”

“Absolutely.” She continued to hold his hand until they came to the door leading to the castle.

The shouts on the other side caused all the men to draw their weapons. Arden pressed her ear against the door, noting the tingle of magic against her cheek as she did.

“Put those Thallian scumbags in there until we can throw their bodies over the walls,” a woman ordered. Her voice was too common, too rough to be Zara’s, but she still issued commands with authority.

“I think it’s safe to move forward,” Arden whispered, “but there’s a ward over the door.”

Bynn cursed, but Kell came toward her with his sword. “If it’s anything like what Nelos used, this should work.”

He wedged the tip into the gap between the door and the frame. A shower of blue sparks exploded from around the door, driving away the shadows. Kell dragged the sword around the brim, cutting through the magic ward with every inch.

“Very clever,” Loku hummed. “We must get our hands on that sword one day.”

“I’m not stealing from Kell.”

“But think of all the fun we could have with it. Nothing would be off limits to us.”

When Kell reached the bottom, the door swung open to reveal a group of kitchen workers armed with pots and pans. An older woman with coarse features stood in front, her frying pan raised like a sword in one hand and a butcher’s knife in the other. “Who are you, and what kind of magic are you using on us?”

Kell stepped into the light, a boyish grin on his lips. “Liverna, how are you this lovely evening?”

The frying pan dropped to the cook’s side, and she approached him with a pale face. “By Lady Moon, is that you, Prince Kell?”

“Yes, Liverna, I’m finally home.”

Her disbelief turned to joy, and a smile wrinkled her already lined face. Her reaction spread through the kitchen staff, filling the once hostile cellar into a welcoming space.

“What? How?” Liverna wiped her brow and shook her head. “By the third moon, how did you get inside?”

“The river tunnel and a little help from my friends.” He ushered the rest of them inside.

Arden waited for a note of suspicion to hang in the air when she and Dev entered, but the kitchen staff had obviously been in the palace long enough to remember them. They kept their distance, but didn’t hinder their passage.

“Tell me what’s happened,” Kell said.

“Where do I start, Your Highness? First, Decindra fell to her death out of one of the tower windows. Then Ermane locked himself up in the king’s old quarters, ranting like a lunatic for the last few hours but not letting anyone in or out. Once we saw our armies gathering outside the city, we decided it was time we took back the castle.” She pointed to the pile of dead Thallian soldiers in the corner. “I would toss them out with the trash where they belong, but Ermane has us all locked in here with one of his magical spells. Even the Thallians can’t get out.”

Bynn stopped in front of Liverna. “Have you seen my sister? She’s about so tall, gray eyes—”

“You mean the girl who took Sagalia’s place?” Fear replaced the pride that had lit up the cook’s face. She stepped back, her eyes darting to the others as though she wanted someone to answer instead of her. “Last we saw of her, she was trapped with Ermane.”

The color drained out of Kell’s face so quickly that Arden stepped forward to lay a steadying hand on him. “Then we’ll get her out of there.”

He tightened his jaw and nodded. “And once we have her, I’ll need you to help me break the wards.”

“One step at a time, Kell.” She turned inside and asked Loku, “Think you can handle that?”

The chaos god chuckled. “You mock my abilities.”

Liverna stepped forward. “Be careful, Your Highness. We got the Thallians around here, but there’s pockets of them upstairs waiting to spring at you.”

“Thank you for the warning.” He jerked his head to them. “To my father’s chambers.”

As soon as they stepped out the kitchen, the sound of fighting echoed down the halls. Loku danced with giddiness inside her when they stumbled upon a group of Ranellian servants battering Thallians with makeshift weapons. “Ah, the glorious chaos of a slave revolt! Shall we stir things up a bit?”

Before she could stop him, a bolt of magic raced down her arm and blew the doors off their hinges. More Ranellians rushed into the room to help their comrades.

Dev glared at her. “I thought you had him under control.”

“I do.”

She tried to tighten the restraints on Loku, but the chaos god was slipping past them faster than she could construct them. He was up to something, but he refused to show her what. She broke away from the group, fearing his plans involved bringing the castle down around them.

Dev chased after her. “Arden, stop it. Don’t let him control you.”

“I’m not,” she replied through gritted teeth. “What are you doing?”

“What the prince wants us to do.” He led her toward a window overlooking the city and the series of gates that kept the Ranellian army from entering. “Free me so we can break the wards.”

Sweat beaded along her brow as she clung to the windowsill, straining to hold Loku back. Her breath came in sharp pants. She would not let him take control of her.

Then a pair of hands circled her waist, and Dev’s warm breath bathed the back of her neck. “You can contain him, Arden.”

“But if you do, then we’ll never escape this castle,” Loku warned. A swell of dark, chaotic magic rose up inside her. “Please, let me break the wards.”

“He wants to break the gates,” she whispered to Dev, realizing then that her efforts were failing because she wanted Loku’s help. She needed him if she wanted to help Kell tear past the Thallians’ magic.

Dev was silent for a moment, his arms tightening around her as though he knew her thoughts. “Then let him if that is what you want, but remember to limit his power to that. You’re the Soulbearer.”

Loku’s magic throbbed through her body to the point of pain. A scream broke from her lips as she released it. The window shattered, and the ground shook under her feet. Cries of panic rose from the courtyard below. A river of green lightning shot out from her hands. It poured through the city, winding through the streets, annihilating every gate from the castle to the outermost wall. And once it reached the Ranellian army, it evaporated into mist.

“Enough.” Arden cut off the magic and fell back against Dev. The spell had left her drained. She struggled to replace her restraints on Loku, failing to even gather a trickle of magic to do so. “No more, Loku.”

“Never worry, my little Soulbearer. I know better than to piss you off.” For once, he sounded sincere. She wondered how long that would last.

Dev held her close, a wave of warm magic flowing from him to restore her exhausted body. “Is he contained?” he asked.

“Yes,” she lied, choosing to trust Loku this time, “until I decide we need him again.”

Loku answered with a disdainful snort, but remained and said nothing.

Kell stumbled against a wall when the ground shook, immediately recognizing Loku’s signature on the spell. He’d seen Arden cast enough spells under the chaos god’s influence to know when he had a hand in the magic. And when it was over, the city gates were wide open to the Ranellian army, just like he’d asked her to do.

Unfortunately, the spell left her a crumpled heap in Dev’s arms. “Is she hurt?”

Arden shook her head, her eyes growing brighter with each second. “Give me a moment, and we’ll be right with you.”

A crash sounded above him, follow by screams. His thoughts immediately turned to Zara. Were those her screams of pain? He tightened his grip on his sword. “I don’t have a moment.”

Arden rose to her feet, still holding on to Dev for balance. “Then let’s continue on.”

Dev shot daggers at him with his glare, but Kell turned around and continued toward his father’s quarters. Ermane was the last member of the Triumvirate standing, and he had Zara. That’s all he cared about now. If he could find them, then he’d be able to appease the sense of urgency that drove his steps, that kept him running through the corridors and up the stairs while the Ranellians battled their Thallian overlords around him. Because he wouldn’t be content until he drove his sword into Ermane’s heart for all the suffering he’d caused the kingdom. When the last member of the Triumvirate was dead, then he’d have his revenge and finally feel like a king worthy of his father’s throne.

The hairs on the back of his neck rose. He rounded a corner to find a Thallian mage waiting for him, magic swirling around his palms. Kell’s throat went dry as the mage launched a fireball at him. He raised his sword, knowing full well it would do nothing to shield him from the flames. Then, a familiar blanket of magic surrounded him. Arden’s shield encapsulated him in its protective barrier a mere second before the fireball hit. It sputtered and frizzled into nothingness the moment it contacted her shield.

“Go on, Kell,” she said from behind him. “I have all of us covered.”

He ran his sword through the mage, pausing only long enough to pull his blade from the Thallian’s chest. Only one set of doors remained between him and the entrance to his father’s quarters. He wedged his sword between the doors to shatter the ward and break the lock. The wood splintered and gave way with a firm kick.

Four Thallian soldiers guarded the next door, their swords drawn.

“Bynn, Dev, take them,” Kell ordered, not wanting to waste any more time. “Arden and I will continue on.”

“Fat chance of that. Where she goes, I go.” Dev conjured up a spell with a wave of his hand, knocking all four soldiers off their feet and whacking their heads against the stone floor. “I’m still her Protector.”

“I’ll finish them up. Get Zara.” Bynn plunged his sword into each of the stunned soldiers’ chests while Kell worked on breaking the next ward.

He froze when he heard a woman’s whimper from the other side. His heart hammered with a mixture of fear and relief. Zara was in there. She was still alive.

“Keep going, Kell,” Arden urged, her shield of magic growing thicker around him.

He finished dragging his sword around the door frame, tearing through the ward Ermane had cast to keep him out. The prophetic words from the blind swordsmith, Foresco, echoed through his mind. He had known defeat. He had lost those he’d held dear. But he would save his homeland yet again using the weapon the Lady Moon had inspired Foresco to create, and he thanked her for this blessing.

He flung the doors open and stopped a few steps in, soaking in the horror of the scene before him. A white-haired man stood in the center of the room with a bloody knife twirling between his fingers. A mad light glowed from his eyes that rivaled Loku’s ring in Arden’s. Beside him, bound in chains to his father’s favorite chair and covered in blood, sat Zara. Her head slumped forward, and her chest rattled with the sounds of death.

“Ah, it seems your prince decided to come for you after all.” Ermane wiped the blade on his shirt. “Perhaps we should give him a warm welcome.”

Kell thought Dev had been a fast caster, but Ermane put him to shame. The spell slammed against Arden’s shield before he knew what was happening. A gasp came from behind him as Arden struggled to maintain her protective spell.

Kell leveled his sword at the surviving member of the Triumvirate. “It’s over, Ermane.”

“Is it?” He pulled Zara’s head up by her hair, revealing the freshly healed wound along her throat surrounded by rivers of dried blood. “You know, she’s been begging me for death. Perhaps I should grant her that wish.”

The haze cleared from Zara’s eyes as she looked at him. The corners of her mouth rose, her smile adding to the ache in his chest. Despite everything she’d suffered because of him, she was still happy to see him.

And that made him love her all the more. The love churned inside him, mixing with rage. His thirst for vengeance grew stronger than ever, but he held it back so it wouldn’t cloud his judgment. One misstep could end her life. He had only one chance to take out Ermane, and he needed to make it count.

“Fool,” Ermane hissed before casting another spell. This time, he wasn’t aiming at Kell. The spell grabbed a heavy stone statue of the Lady Moon from the shrine in the corner and flung it at Arden.

Time seemed to slow down, turning each beat of his heart into an instrument of torture. The statue slammed into Arden. A grunt of pain came from her as she fell under it. Dev dived to protect her. Her shield vanished, leaving him exposed to Ermane’s next spell.

It hit him with enough power to drive the air from his lungs and knock him to his knees. Bynn charged, only to be incapacitated in the same way.

I can’t give up. I need to keep fighting. For Ranello. For Zara.

But his body refused to obey.

Ermane continued to laugh uncontrollably. “You were even easier to defeat than your father,” he taunted.

A new spell seized him, locking all of his muscles and holding him as still as the statue lying next to him. Yet despite his dire situation, he refused to surrender. The Lady Moon had told him he would save his kingdom. Surely, she had seen this and would intervene.

Ermane danced toward him, humming a song while he twirled the knife between his fingers. “With one blow, I will crush your little rebellion, Kell,” he sang, “starting with you.”

He raised the knife in the air, holding it with both hands before bringing it down.

Kell held his breath, preparing for the pain.

A roar came from behind Ermane, shattering the Thallian’s movement. Zara ran toward them, her head bent low from carrying the chair with her. She rammed into Ermane’s stomach, doubling him over and knocking the knife from his hands.

The spell lifted from Kell, and he dove forward, driving his sword through Ermane’s shields and into the center of his beating heart.

The Thallian’s eyes bulged, glaring at them with a mixture of shock and hatred as he drew his last breath. He pawed at the sword in the final seconds of his life, but eventually, death claimed him.

Kell released his sword and ran to Zara. He brushed the tangled snarl of hair back from her face, desperate to find a sign of life underneath it all. “Speak to me, Zara.”

Relied flooded his frantic heart as she smiled at him, even though her chest continued to rattle in short, painful bursts. Before she closed her eyes, she whispered, “The King has arrived.”