Chapter 35
Von
R ushing back to the group, we found an unexpected but welcome surprise—Harper was awake.
She was sitting near the fire, Lyra and Ryker flanking her sides as she sipped from a wood bowl containing water.
Relief unburdened my shoulders, and they fell ever so slightly.
Fallon and Folkoln were over by themselves, out of earshot, privately conversing.
Her attention swiftly swung to Kaleb, but he did not meet her gaze.
“You’re awake,” I said, walking up to Harper.
“I am,” she replied, voice raspy. Tired. She nearly dropped the bowl when she saw my arm. “Oh, my gods! Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. It’s growing back,” I reassured her, unintentionally shifting it forward for her to see. The movement only made it throb worse.
“How are you feeling?” Kaleb asked as he knelt beside her.
“Like a giant ate me,” she said with a disbelieving chuckle.
Lyra nodded in understanding. I think we all did.
“We have something we need to discuss,” I said, turning to Folkoln and Fallon. I jerked my head, motioning for them to come over.
Folkoln helped Fallon up and they joined us.
Fallon looked miserable. Her black lashes lifted as she searched Kaleb’s face, her expression pleading, like she was trying to get him to look at her.
Kaleb gave her nothing.
“What’s going on?” Folkoln asked us, the white flames reflecting off his dark eyes. He crossed his arms, threading them loosely, as he waited for an answer.
Taking the bull by the horns, Kaleb stood up and said, “We saw two strange, gray-skinned females. Unlike any species I’ve ever seen before. They had these white markings inked into their skin, eyes completely black.”
I added, “They were talking about a human soul. Said the vessel is missing fingers. Sound familiar?”
“Soren,” Ryker grated between clenched teeth. His posture became visibly rigid.
“Yeah.” Kaleb nodded, putting his issues with Ryker to the side so we could focus on what mattered right now. I had to admit, it made me respect him even more.
“Did you follow them?” Folkoln asked, small bits of smoke breaking off from his skin, much like my shadows did with mine .
“We did,” I confirmed. “But they opened a passage in the wall of the mountain. Through it, I could see the tunnel and the river of souls. It closed immediately after they walked through it so we couldn’t follow them any further.”
Folkoln looked in the direction we had just come from, then to the hole all of us had walked out of earlier today. “They must be further down the river then.”
I nodded in agreement, my hand propping up my throbbing arm. “The one female said she would be finished working on the soul tonight, just in time to ship it off with the others. Which means we need to move swiftly.”
“Alright, let’s go,” Folkoln said, taking a step forward.
I shook my head. “No, I need you to stay here with the others.”
“We’ll all go,” Harper suggested.
I gave her a soft half-smile. “Although I appreciate the offer, Harper, you are just recovering. Fallon can barely walk. Time is of the essence right now. It will be better for you all to stay here.”
Ryker stood up. “You and I can go. I know I’m not as skilled of a fighter as Folkoln, but I can hold my own, and you know it.” His eyes darted to my nub. “Plus, if you get into any trouble, you might need some help.”
I debated for a brief moment, then said, “Alright. Let’s go.”
“Wait,” Folkoln said as he turned his palm skyward. Smoke drifted from his fingers, thinning into tiny threads. They began to weave together until a thin cloth was formed. He wrapped it around my arm and tied it into place behind my neck, taking some of the weight off my nub.
It was all so very . . . brotherly of him. I quirked a brow, wondering where this act of selflessness had come from.
Then, because Folkoln was Folkoln, he smacked the side of my half-eaten arm, like the bastard he was. Pain exploded, and I winced.
He smirked in that asshole way of his, like he had a secret he didn’t plan to share, then jabbed, “Don’t take long . . . you know I can’t stand babysitting.”
“Fuck you,” Harper hissed. Lyra squinted at him.
I could hear Zahra chuckling all the way back in the Three Realms.
Ryker and I moved at a swift pace, keeping up with the rushing waters.
The tunnel seemed to stretch on and on, but we kept going, knowing what would happen if we didn’t reach Soren in time.
The constant roar of the river washed out the sounds of our feet, well, more so Ryker’s than mine, since mine were nearly silent—one of many skills I’d honed over my lifetime.
The iridescent light from the stalactites began to change, becoming much brighter—almost blinding, as if they had harnessed the power of the sun and were using it to shine.
Up ahead, the tunnel forked. To the left, the river kept, but to the right, it swerved, growing in size. At the end of it, there was a cavernous room .
“We need to get closer,” I whispered to Ryker.
“Agreed.” He gave a firm nod.
We kept to the shadows as we approached, looking for any signs of life. If the gray-skinned creatures had been here before, they weren’t now.
Cautiously, we continued to advance.
Neatly hung around the walls were a variety of strange instruments—ones I had never seen the likes of before.
Some were cylindrical glass devices attached to clear hoses or sharp, strangely hollowed needles.
Others had multiple legs, like a metal spider, with clasps on the ends—used for plucking something, perhaps?
There were so many of them. In the middle of the room, where the light was even brighter, there were rows of altars that looked to have been chiseled from the mountain itself.
On some of them, there were bodies, lifeless and still.
I walked by one, peering down at it.
A female, her long, brown hair strewn about, her eyes closed.
She looked peaceful, much like the dead back in the Spirit Realm when they floated along the Da’Nu.
Hovering above her chest were hundreds of glass pieces, some so small they would not be visible to the mortal eye.
My mind began to draw lines from one piece to another, mapping them out.
This way and that. The image continued to play out, of what would happen if I combined all of the pieces. The shards would be made into an orb—
“A soul,” I whispered to myself, somewhat mesmerized.
I had seen and collected hundreds of thousands of souls before, but they had never been shattered apart like this one; they were always whole. Fascinating. Although part of me itched to move the pieces, to complete the puzzle, that was not why I was here.
Returning to the task at hand, I continued to pass by the tables, looking for Soren’s ugly mug.
“He’s not here,” Ryker stated after we’d searched the bodies.
“No,” I growled under my breath, clenching my jaw.
A muscle ticked inside of it as if it were trying to squirm away.
The beast within me roared in frustration, begging me to grab one of the altars and send it careening into the wall.
Knowing that wasn’t going to help, I kept my composure and began to walk around the room, looking for anything that might help us.
A faint whisper of clicking heels sounded, echoing in our direction.
There was no time to move anywhere else, so Ryker and I ducked behind the altars we stood beside.
One of the gray-skinned females that we had seen before, the taller one with the pulled back hair, appeared.
She hummed softly as she walked through the rows.
A glowing magic swirled behind her, grabbing hold of a stool and plucking it from the ground.
As she continued forward, the stool followed.
She stopped at the end of an altar—a man rested on top of it.
She placed her clawed fingers on his face, gently turning it from side to side. “Pretty good work, if I say so myself. Now, let’s see about that soul of yours,” she said .
Her magic dropped the stool at the foot of the altar, and she sat down on it. She waved her hand over the stone, and a rectangular black slate appeared. She began to study it, humming softly to herself.
As Ryker was closer, and he had two good arms, I flicked my head toward her.
He nodded. Without a moment’s hesitation, he leapt from his spot and grabbed her, pinning her arms to her sides. He shoved her face forward, right between the man’s two feet.
“How dare you touch me!” she snarled, blue magic shooting out behind her, reaching for the serrated knife a few altars down. Grabbing hold of it, she flung it toward Ryker.
Just before it plunged into his back, I caught it.
I placed the blade against her throat and said in warning, “I wouldn’t try that again.”
She ceased her struggle, turning bone stiff. That told me a great deal. Either she was afraid of pain, or she was afraid to die by the knife. If it was the latter, it meant she was not immortal, which could mean the rest of her kind wasn’t either. I archived that information.
I lowered my face to hers. “There was a human here, missing three fingers. Where has he been sent to?”
Her empty black eyes shifted to a wall before they swiftly flicked back to mine, narrowing. “How should I know? We get plenty of vessels that are missing things—fingers, eyes, heads.” Her gaze flicked to my sling. “Arms.”
I glanced at the wall. “What lies beyond it? ”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she hissed.
“Oh, I think you do.” I pressed the blade further against her throat. “Now, I will only ask one more time. What lies beyond the wall?”
Her voice was barely more than a whisper. “It is where we store the bodies until they are taken.”
“Show us,” I demanded.
Reluctantly, she did. She used the same magic she had used before, parting the wall and enabling the three of us to step inside.
The room was lit with a dim glow, the air different. In here, there was a steady, lively hum—as if it flowed with life. There were carts, stockpiled with bodies. I peered at the one’s face, and although it didn’t move, I could feel it looking back at me.
All of these souls were conscious, but still they were unable to move. It was like there was a disconnect between soul and vessel.
“Which one is he in?” I asked her.
“That one.” She nodded to the one at the end, her movement limited due to the blade I held at her throat. We walked over to it, my eyes darting from face to face, searching.
Finally, I spotted the little fucker, stacked on top of the others.
Ryker climbed up the cart and dragged Soren to the side. Lifting him over the wood wall, he brought him down then placed him on the ground.
I peered into his eyes. Inside, I could see a circular, repetitive movement, like a mindless rodent running on a wheel. Over and over again. But there was no feeling there. Only numbness.
“Why is he like this?” I inquired.
“Because there is a veil over top of him, which does not allow him to connect with the world, and therefore he cannot connect with himself,” she answered.
“Remove it.”
“I need to bend down to do so,” she grated at me.
“Don’t get any ideas,” I warned, pulling the blade from her throat.
She knelt beside Soren, her hand moving to the middle of his chest. With a plucking motion, she pinched at nothing, but when she pulled her hand away, a sheer bit of fabric emerged from his skin. She discarded it to the side, and it dissolved on the ground.
Soren came sputtering to life.
I grinned down at him. “Hello, Soren.”