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Authors: Crista McHugh

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BOOK: A Soul for Trouble
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Four undead stalked a lone figure with a wolf at his side.


Stop playing games
,” Loku said. “
We need to end this now
.”


We?


You have to trust me. Let me help you defeat him
.”


But if I give in to you—


If you don’t, Dev will be killed and turned into an undead. Do you want that?
” Her mouth went dry. What would she do if Dev became her enemy? He seemed to be her only ally in the craziness that filled her life over the last week. The seconds ticked by as she watched the four undead surround him and begin attacking. He and Cinder tried to hold them off, but fatigue labored his swings. He wouldn’t last long against them.


What do you have in mind?


There’s more than one way to kill an undead. Coat your hand with the blood on your
sword and trust me
.”

As she smeared the black goo across her palm, Dev’s voice cried out. One of his attackers’

blades sliced through his thigh, and her protector fell to the ground.


Give yourself to me now, Arden
.”

She closed her eyes and surrendered to Loku. He seized control of her body. Magic like she never imagined coursed through her veins. Ice crystals coated her hand, and the wind whipped around her with renewed fury. All she could focus on was saving Dev. Her lips began to move, and words she’d never used before tumbled from them.

The power welled up inside her, threatening to explode. Fear gripped her. Her pulse raced in her ears. What had she agreed to do? The storm intensified. Sleet stung her cheeks. Her knees wobbled. How much longer could she bear this before it destroyed her?


Don’t worry, my Soulbearer. I could never harm you
.” A pair of invisible, strong arms encircled her, keeping her hand up while Loku continued to cast through her. She leaned back against the warmth and security he offered and let the oblivion consume her.

She lost track of time. Seconds could have passed, or hours. When her consciousness returned, her body felt like all the life had been drained from it, leaving her a limp rag doll. She fell to her knees and slowly opened her eyes.

An eerie silence hung in the clearing. Even the rain had stopped. Tendrils of white fog swirled around her, parting to reveal the Necromancer encrusted in a block of ice in front of her.

She gasped, stumbling back into the mud. What had they just done?

The crack of glass shattering broke the silence. “The undead are frozen,” a voice shouted through the fog.

“Destroy them while you can,” Dev answered, and the tinkle of more ice breaking reverberated through the clearing.


We turned them into ice, Loku?


I told you there was more than one way to destroy undead
.” Her eyes grew heavy, and her sword slipped from her fingers. They had beaten them. Dev was still alive. And the Necromancer had been stopped. She would have laughed in delight if she could’ve found the strength to do so. But all she wanted to do now was curl up into a ball and sleep. Her enemies were all ice sculptures now. There was nothing to fear.

A loud crack rumbled the ground under her, and something hard smashed against her temple. A red flash of pain filled her vision before the blackness descended upon her.

Chapter 13

When Dev saw the first cracks in the ice surrounding the Necromancer, he ran toward Trouble as fast as he could with his injured leg. Magic illuminated the fissures forming in the ice, and the resulting explosion catapulted fist-sized chunks through the air. He dropped his sword and dove for her, but he couldn’t get to her before one of the blocks connected with her temple. Her eyes widened for a second before they rolled back, and she collapsed into the mud.

He shielded her from the rest of the debris with his body and his magic, exhaling with relief when he felt her warm breath on his hand. He still couldn’t believe what he’d just seen.

Trouble, the little slip of a barmaid he’d rescued less than a week ago, had turned the Necromancer’s army into statues of ice. Of course, she didn’t do it alone. Her eyes glowed bright yellow-green while she cast, and her voice deepened when she recited the incantation.

Loku had seized control of her.

His shields buckled, and he looked up. Even though the rain had stopped for the moment, lightning still illuminated the sky and the face of their enemy. The scar that ran along the Necromancer’s left cheek added a new level of sinister to his snarl.

“Give her to me,” he whispered.

“You’ll have to kill me first.”

Shadows emerged from the darkness around them. “I won’t have to, mage. The Ranellians will do that for me. You know how low their tolerance for magic is.”

“So you can expect the same treatment from them.”

The Necromancer laughed, sending a chill into the very core of Dev’s body. “Sooner or later, I always get what I want.” He produced a dagger from under the folds of his cloak and held it out for Dev to examine. The same dagger that killed Robb.

The memory of his failure tore at him like a barbed whip. He lifted his body, muscles poised to spring, but stopped himself. The Necromancer wanted him to lower his shields and attack. That was the only way he could get to Trouble. He cradled her in his arms, pulling her closer to his chest. Whatever happened to him, he refused to let her suffer the same fate as the prior Soulbearer. “As long as my shield holds, no one will hurt her.”

“And how long will it hold with your leg bleeding like that?” The Necromancer’s hand tightened around the dagger’s hilt. “I can feel your magic weakening with each beat of your heart.”

The Ranellians circled them, coming close enough to where he could see the stark lines of their features in the night.

The Necromancer ignored them. “As long as my shield holds, we can continue this stalemate for days, Protector.”

Dev sized up the humans. He needed to make sure they were on his side. “And who do you think they’d attack first? You, who ordered the undead to attack them? Or me, who came to their aid?”

“The law of the kingdom still stands.” He inched closer so that his shield butted against Dev’s. “King Heodis is not known for his mercy.”

From the crowd, a voice replied, “And I intend to carry out the King’s justice.” Steel flashed through the air and sliced through the Necromancer’s wrist. His screams echoed off the trees as his hand fell to the ground, the fingers still clutching the hilt of the dagger. Before the Ranellian could come in for another attack, red magic exploded from the Necromancer’s other hand, knocking all the humans to the ground.

“Tell Arden I look forward to seeing her again soon,” he growled as his body faded into mist.

The Ranellian responsible for cutting off the Necromancer’s hand jumped to his feet and swung his sword through the shadowy remnants left behind, dispersing them into the wind.

“What the hell just happened?”

“He dissipated,” Dev replied. He wrapped his arms tighter around Trouble and reinforced his shields around them. The Ranellian’s blade had pierced the Necromancer’s shields, and he worried that if he didn’t cooperate, they might become the next victims to experience the King’s justice. “It’s a spell most master mages know.”

“Where did he go?”

“I have no idea. It’s not like we’re best friends.”

The hand in the mud burst into flames and turned into a pile of ashes within seconds. Only the dagger remained. The Ranellian picked it up.

“Be careful with that,” Dev warned. “It’s cursed. The last person who felt its point ended up encased in stone.”

The Ranellian dropped it and raised his sword. The tip pressed against Dev’s shoulder through the shields, the blade obviously holding some enchantment stronger than any magic he could wield. “Why should I believe anything you say?”

“Because my apprentice and I seem to be the only ones who can help you defeat the Necromancer.”

The Ranellian’s blade grazed Dev’s neck. “Who are you, and what is your business in Ranello?”

“I’m Sir Devarius Tel’brien, Knight of Gravaria.” No need to add the “Sworn Protector of the Soulbearer” and rouse their suspicions further. The fact that he was a foreign elf who could use magic would be enough to cause him to lose his head. “I was sent by the Empress to follow a Gravarian who’d escaped to Ranello and bring him back.” The clouds parted, and a beam from one of the three moons shined down on them through the trees. Damp curls clung to the Ranellian’s broad face, and the royal crest of Ranello stretched across the armored plate covering his chest. One of the King’s soldiers. “And where is he?”

“The Necromancer killed him before I could capture him.” Something warm and wet dripped onto Dev’s hand. He turned his attention to Trouble.

The gash on her temple continued to bleed, trickling down her face onto her shoulder. He contemplated the danger of healing her in front of a hostile audience or waiting until later and praying he wouldn’t be too late. His leg throbbed in response, reminding him of his own wounds. He lowered his shields, since the Ranellian had already proven he could slice through them. “May I ask your name?”

The Ranellian’s eyes widened in surprise. He withdrew his sword a few inches. “I’m Kell.” He waited a moment, the expression on his face full of self-importance.

Dev gave a curt nod in acknowledgement but nothing more. The name meant nothing to him. As far as he was concerned, the man was just another backwards Ranellian. “Well, if you don’t mind, my apprentice and I need to find our horses and be on our way to Boznac.”

“You’re not going anywhere. Like Sulaino said, magic is forbidden in Ranello. Your apprentice gave us quite a display of her power.”

“She did it to save your lives, you ungrateful humans.” His retort resulted in three news blades poking his back.

Kell narrowed his eyes. “The law is still the law, and only the King can overturn it.” A familiar growl sounded behind him. The Ranellians jumped back as Cinder forced his way through them, sitting between Kell and Trouble. Dev used the momentary distraction to heal the gash at her temple. The blood stopped, but she didn’t stir.

Cinder licked her cheek and whimpered.

“I’m beginning to think you like her more than me,” he murmured to the animal.

“Is this your wolf?” Kell asked. His sword wavered slightly in front of them.

“Yes. He’s tame,” he replied before adding under his breath, “for the most part.”

“Sir Devarius, I have no desire to remain here in the mud with my sword pointed at you all night. You and your apprentice both look like you could use the attention of a healer.” Dev choked back a laugh. He would rather rot in a shallow grave than face the primitive healing the Ranellians offered. Although it took more magic to heal himself than it did to heal another, at least he wouldn’t have to worry about rusty needles and dirty bandages. “I’ll take care of her.” He brushed her wet hair back from her temple to inspect the injury. Not even a scar remained. “She is my responsibility.”

“Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear. You are both under arrest for using magic in Ranello.

According to the law, I have every right to burn you both at the stake right now.” Kell knelt in front of them and lowered his voice. “I’m grateful you came to our aid, which is why I’m showing you what mercy I can. I can’t overturn the laws, but I can plead your case to the king and ask him to set you free.”

A smirk pulled at Dev’s lips. “Or you and your men could say we escaped and forget about this whole incident.”

“My gratitude doesn’t extend to making me look like an incompetent fool in front of my men.”

He scanned the small band of soldiers, calculating his odds of escaping without getting either one of them killed. He could always use magic to confuse and detain the Ranellians, but he had to factor in that he was injured and Trouble was unconscious. He doubted he could make it back to their horses before they overtook him.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. He hated when Lady Luck stacked the odds against him. “It seems I have no other choice in the matter,” he said at last.

“I’m glad we could reach a consensus without more violence.” Kell stood, sheathed his sword, and turned to the man standing next to him. “Lord Bynn, will you relieve Sir Devarius of his apprentice and take her to my tent? She’ll have some privacy there while the healer tends to her injuries.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Bynn replied with a bow.

Dev winced at Kell’s title. Just perfect. He’d been exchanging barbs with the youngest of the Ranellian princes. So much for improving relations between their two kingdoms. At least that explained why the man thought he might be able to sway King Heodis into pardoning them. Saving a young princeling had to count for something.

Bynn reached for Trouble, causing Cinder to growl. Dev didn’t stop him.

Kell sighed and rolled his eyes. “We can’t help you if you don’t let us.”

“I’m trying to decide whether or not to trust you and your men.”
Especially when your
reputation with women is legend even in Gravaria
.

“Are Gravarians always this suspicious?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time a Ranellian has double-crossed us.” Kell’s mouth became a tight line. Some stories history never seemed to forget, no matter how many times they were rewritten. More than three centuries had passed since Ranello refused to come to Gravaria’s aid when blight raged across the land. Instead, the king blamed the use of magic for the failed crops and closed the borders between the two kingdoms.

Thousands died from starvation before a ritual to end it was found. By then, the blight had crossed the mountains into Ranello. Gravarian mages came to help the Ranellians when they begged for mercy, only to be executed by the king for breaking his new law banning magic within the realm.

“I give you my word as the Third Prince of Ranello that no harm will come to you or your apprentice from me and my men.”

BOOK: A Soul for Trouble
5.18Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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