The Spark that Ignites: Shattered Soul Series, page 9
“I’ve heard a few siren songs in my time. I’ve always been immune.” He shrugged. “Also, they were singing to you, not me.”
So, they knew she was in the forest when they were nowhere in sight? That couldn’t be good. Her spine stiffened. “How do you resist it?”
“Think of something foul like an unpleasant memory. I’m sure, like me, you have an abundance of those. Pain helps too.” His bizarre casualness as he spoke of these creatures like they were an everyday vermin or pest, caught her off guard. Maybe Karynthia was more dangerous than she wanted to believe. The thought filled her with dread.
Emmery shivered as she pondered what might have happened if she followed the siren’s song. From what she recalled of fairytales, the beautiful but wicked creatures had jagged teeth and sharp claws. Maybe they fell into the flesh-eating category.
Vesper whistled an off-key tune, drowning out any remaining melody leaking through the trees, clearly for her benefit though he didn’t acknowledge it. “The good news is we’re almost at the gate. The sirens are a last resort to catch anyone who shouldn’t come through.”
The song came to an abrupt halt as the Iron Gate emerged.
It rose well past the treetops, seemingly touching the sky and stretched just as wide, disappearing into the mist. The closely packed bars, resembling razor blades, glimmered with ferocity. No gold or rainbows. No splendour or overwhelming sense of relief. The sinister presence emitted a bone rattling pulse of magic and sent a cold sweat sliding down Emmery’s back.
Guarding the gate was a lanky creature, easily twice Vesper’s height. Dressed in moss covered robes that may have once been white, it stood unnervingly on two feet, its body bowing. Its front talons, spears of bone in the form of hands, dusted the forest floor. Thick, grotesque antlers the colour of aged parchment punctured through its hood and skeletal bones peaked from the exposed bits of its face. The creature's snout twitched as they approached. If it was a mask, Emmery couldn’t tell but whatever it was incited a visceral fear.
What was that thing? It emitted raw power like the gate.
“Follow my lead,” Vesper ordered, his voice low. “Don’t speak unless spoken to. The Guardian is particular about manners.”
They stepped into the yellowed light emitting from the lantern at the Guardian’s feet. Blood splattered the ground and gate, as if something collided with it and shredded to ribbons. Had people tried to outrun the guardian or was it a desperate attempt to escape the forest creatures? Either way, the blood appeared fresh.
Its unseeing milky white eyes slid in their direction. “Children of the Fallen and Hollow. It is a pleasure to see you again, Vesper Merikh and Emmery Hawthorne,” the monster snarled.
The Guardian’s voice rattled against the walls of Emmery’s brain, and she gritted her teeth against the discomfort though Vesper appeared unfazed.
Emmery narrowed her gaze on its cloudy eyes. How did the Guardian know her name? Was it some sort of seer? It looked too vicious to be anything but a predator. Gods, it could mince her with one swipe of its claw.
Vesper bowed at the waist, an arm crossing his chest to rest two fingers over his cavae. “Guardian Kaah. The pleasure is ours.”
Emmery mimicked him, fixating on the rusty stained leaves at their feet. More blood.
“Please graciously grant us passage,” said Vesper, calm, cool, collected.
With a hideous breath, Kaah’s gaze flicked to Emmery. “Do you have the payment?”
Emmery stiffened, daring a peek as Vesper stepped toward the Guardian. Shoulders tight, he fished a stone from his pocket no larger than a walnut. It swirled with the colours of a summer sunset—the only thing in this forest that didn’t make her skin prickle. Kaah’s eyes lit up as Vesper dropped it into a gnarled hand and its bone claws twisted around it. Guardian Kaah inhaled deeply like it could consume the power the stone emitted. Whatever that stone was, it had to be special if it swayed the Guardian to betray the god’s wishes.
“You may pass.” The Guardian’s jowls peeled back revealing a mouth of sharp teeth and once more its voice rang, lingering after the words were spoken in Emmery’s mind. “Do come again. It has been far too long since I have had visitors.”
Vesper bowed once more. “Our eternal gratitude, Great Kaah.”
The Guardian ambled aside as the gate screeched open, pulled by invisible ropes and Emmery’s heart leapt into her throat.
This was it. The moment she’d dreamed of and yet, whether it was the forest or the probing stare of the Guardian, her chest remained tight. Weary of this new world. But this was a chance at a new life.
No longer would she have to hide or fear. Surrounded by people like her, she could have the permanence of a home and finally belong. Her heart strained at the thought, wanting it so damn badly. Because so much of her life had been wasted. All she had to do was complete this bargain and then ... she would finally be free.
Emmery held her breath, studying the ground, as they approached the gate and a new light sparked in her chest, unleashed by the opening of this door.
“Leave your presence unknown.” Gaze lingering on Emmery, Guardian Kaah flashed a cruel smile. “I will know if anything is disturbed.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat and kept to Vesper’s heels. The gate shrieked, a violent cry of metal on metal, and Vesper grasped the neck of her cloak, yanking her forward as the Iron door swung with malicious intent. They narrowly sidestepped the sharp edges as the gate slammed shut, knowing the consequences would have been far worse than a haircut if they’d been struck. A revenant wind lifted Emmery’s hair as it sealed them on the other side.
Chapter Ten
The permanency of her choices etched into her bones—her being now tied to this place as the gate closed forever.
Emmery skin pebbled though she was no longer cold and the realization sank in.
There was no going back.
As they hurried away from the gate, the air lifted, warmed, and freshness swept in, her skin thawing in the rays of sunlight. These trees weren’t a cage, unlike the Waking Wood, but rather welcomed them with splatters of lemon peel and blood red flowers. Pockets of sky peeked through, cerulean unlike the greying smog of home. Or she supposed, what once was home.
Her eyes trained ahead on the winding path—the end unseen through the thicket of brush. Her aching feet told her there would be blisters upon blisters when she removed her boots.
Unclasping Vesper’s cloak, she tossed it into his waiting hand.
He caught it without looking at her and slung it around his shoulders. “Remember rule number one. We’re not at the end of his lands yet. Kaah will know if we touch anything. I swear he has eyes in the back of his head. And trust me you don’t want to be on his bad side.”
Emmery shuddered, like his unseeing stare still followed her. “And I’m assuming you know this from experience?”
“I had a few run-ins with him as a child.” Vesper pushed his hair off his forehead. “He’s not too kind about people messing with his things.”
Emmery studied the side of his face, but he kept the same nonchalance and light-hearted humour painted there. “What happened?”
“My sister and I were playing a game, and we set fire to some brush.” He chuckled at the memory, biting down on his bottom lip. “Let’s just say we weren’t allowed back for some time.”
“Fire?” She stared at him in utter disbelief. “Wait, you were children. What kind of game were you playing?”
“We stole an enchanted orb from my father’s room.” He shrugged as if it was common for children to toss a flaming ball at each other. “It made a game of catch more interesting. Upped the stakes.”
Fighting a smile, she said, “Sounds like you two were a joy as children.”
Maybe Kenna traditions were vastly different. Her mother would never let her play a game that dangerous, though she cringed at the memory of jumping from a tree to see if she could without breaking her leg. There wasn’t much to do at the cottage most days.
“You could say that.” He exhaled a laugh. “It would be a lie, but you could say it.”
Emmery’s head swivelled as they walked, not wanting to miss a single speck of detail. The gentle breeze carried peace and birds chirped merrily in the trees— a stark difference from the cold, ominous forest. Her mind kept flashing back to the gate, the sharp edges glinting like blades, the Guardian and those creepy eyes. The way he stared right through her.
“What did you give Kaah for our passage?” she asked.
“It’s called a Stone of Refraction.”
It was careless that the Guardian could be bribed so easily but there had to be more to the story. “Why did the gods close the gates?”
“We’re not sure if it was an order from Deimos or Kahlia, but one day during the war everyone was called back, and not long after it was forbidden to cross. Kaah sent people away, claiming the gods spoke to him and we all took him at his word. He’s been the Iron Gate Guardian for hundreds if not thousands of years. I’ve never asked how old he is. Not sure the question would be received well.” The corner of his mouth pulled up, but the smirk quickly died. “Honestly, most of us had no reason to travel after. The war ruined everything.”
She unclipped her canteen from her pack to parch her dry throat, each swallow like a mouthful of silt. “What does the stone do?”
“It’s ancient magic. If the stone is cast into the khaos flame, it’s enchanted to show the past, present, and future but the oracles claimed the future always shifted and was impossible to pinpoint.” Vesper reached for the canteen and took a pull. “The stones were once gifted before we passed our trials, but that tradition hasn’t happened since I was young.”
She frowned at him. “And what does Kaah want with it?”
“How should I know what the big oaf wants?” Vesper tightened his pack straps. “It isn’t much use right now anyway. Maybe he wants to sell it.”
She cocked her head. Perhaps Vesper was a better thief than he let on. Maybe stealing these items would be a breeze. “If it’s so rare, how did you get it? I’m sure it cost a pretty price.”
“It was given to me.”
Emmery slivered her eyes. “Willingly?”
When he nodded her brows pulled together.
“Surely you had to trade something,” she pressed. “Nothing is free. Nothing is fair. Remember?”
“Careful, Sparky. Sometimes it’s better to plead ignorance.” Vesper laughed, dragging a hand through his hair before he pointed at her. “And don’t use my own words against me.”
“You’re not going to tell me?” She crossed her arms. “It’s rude to keep secrets, Vesper.”
He ran his tongue along his bottom lip, his eyes distant as he stared ahead and took another swig of water. “Some deals we make ensure we can’t speak of them as part of the terms. The bargains, or we call them pactums, prevent it.”
Pactums. The term dragged from the far recesses of her mind. So much of Kenna culture had been lost over time, not to mention humans had little knowledge to start with.
Emmery exhaled loudly. “Am I allowed to ask what was in the woods?”
“Hollow hounds. They’re Deimos’s pets. His daughter keeps them too. Though, I didn’t see them on the way in. They’re not usually in the forest or at least they weren’t when I was young.” His eyes slid to her, a hint of worry in his gaze. “Did you see them?”
“You blocked my view.” She said it with snark but, honestly, it was a relief. After hearing the growls, she bet their faces were equally as terrifying.
“That’s probably for the best. The first time I saw one, I didn’t sleep for weeks.”
Curiosity gnawed at her though she feared the answer. “What do they look like?”
“They’re large, about this high.” His hand hovered at his waist. “Red eyes. Lots of teeth. Too many in my opinion. Major overcrowding. They’re also missing a lot of skin. And they’re vicious. They don’t let up for a second.” Vesper shuddered dramatically. “Believe me, they’re not pretty and you don’t want them to catch you off guard.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” After a long pause Emmery spoke. “Also, thank you.”
He raised an eyebrow. “For what?”
“You kept me safe.” Emmery studied her boots. “It deserves some recognition.”
“It was part of the pactum, was it not?” He scuffed his foot along the ground. “Not that I would leave you but I’m sort of obligated.”
Her fingers knotted in her cloak. “It is, but ... thank you anyway.”
Vesper nudged her shoulder. “I don’t abandon helpless women. My father raised me right.”
“I’m far from helpless.”
“If you say so. That’s the second time I’ve saved your life in less than two days.”
Emmery glared at him and snatched the canteen from his hand.
Vesper happily trailed behind, eyes closed, and head tilted back, soaking in the sun’s rays. The gate disappeared, tucked away by magic and the further they ventured the more the air sparkled in the sunlight. Emmery reached out to touch it and whatever hung in the air followed her fingers. She breathed it into her lungs, never wanting to exhale. Was this magic?
A strange pulsing shimmer like white stardust caught her eye and as she glanced back at Vesper, her jaw slackened. An aura clung to his body—the same moonlit paleness of his eyes. Surely her mind was playing tricks on her, but it thickened by the second.
She swallowed hard. “Vesper?”
“Hmmm?” He cracked an eyelid and seeing her expression, a slow smile crept onto his face. Evidently her concern was amusing.
She gestured to the glowing shimmer encasing his body. “What’s this?”
He crooked a dark brow, that stupid smile still on his lips. “This is how we carry our magic. We call it a vestige.”
She had certainly seen Kenna but not that. Well, seen from a distance, but still. Emmery waved a hand through the blank air surrounding her. “Then where’s mine?”
“You don’t get it until you pass your trial. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
Emmery crossed her arms over her chest, walking backward, cautious to avoid any uneven ground. “You didn’t have it ten minutes ago.”
“Magic doesn’t look the same beyond the Iron Gate.” He waved his fingers through the shimmer. “It was there; you just couldn’t see it.”
Vesper caught up to her and shoved his hands in his pockets. She couldn’t help staring. The white glow was beautiful and by that wide grin on his face, he enjoyed the attention.
Her cheeks warmed and she yanked her gaze away. “What does it do?”
“Our magic resides in our blood, but it holds the remainder of our power. It’s like a reserve. When our magic depletes our vestige fades. You have to be careful not to burn through it. If you drain your magic, you’ll faint. Or worse, you could Collapse. And that’s—well, it’s fatal. It only happens if you drastically overextend yourself. But you should be mindful. Especially because you’ll be learning.”
Emmery sank her teeth into her lip as worry swelled in her belly. She’d been in the dark for her entire life, not really knowing who or what she was. How long would she be playing catch up? “Humans know so little about your people.”
“Our people,” he corrected again.
“Right.” Emmery almost smiled. “It’s quite embarrassing really. Humans are so afraid of Kenna.” She kicked a rock with more force than necessary. “I suppose, the generation raised with magic have all passed at this point.”
“People fear what they don’t understand.”
“They call us Damned Ones and demons. Innocents were burned, drowned, beaten to a pulp, and horrifically murdered before crowds. It’s more than a misunderstanding. It was ... some sick game. They hunted us. Hunted me like an animal.” She stared at her feet, her chest shaking with each breath. She’d never said that aloud. Never acknowledged the things she’d seen or been through. The fear she’d lived inside—her own personal pocket of darkness. “I’m a person too. We all are.”
Vesper clasped a hand around the back of his neck, uncertainty in the set of his jaw. “I’m sorry you had to see that. To endure that. It—” He paused, his mouth twisting to the side and voice quiet, contemplative. “It must have been terrible.”
It didn’t matter anymore. She was over the gate and safe for now. Eager to steer the conversation away, she said, “Aside from mist and smoke, what other things can you do?”
A grin devoured his face. “Would you like me to tell you or show you?”
Emmery opened her mouth to respond, when a weak cry flitted through the air like a wounded bird. Her eyes darted to the flowers lining the road and a lump formed in her throat. Tangled in what looked to be an abandoned spider web was a tiny white fox no longer than her forearm. It thrashed, failing to free itself from the sticky tendrils. Immediately, Emmery moved toward it but Vesper caught her by the shoulder. She scowled at his urgent stare, but concern knit the lines of his face.
“Don’t touch anything, remember?” Vesper warned, his severe and foreboding tone making her pause.
Emmery looked at the fox and back at him, her eyes wide and pleading.
“I know, Emmery, but ... please,” he assured but she wasn’t convinced he knew what she was feeling.
“Look at the little thing. It’s so helpless.” She clutched her chest as the creature surveyed her with pleading eyes and thrashed in the web. How many times had she needed someone to save her or called out for help and been spat on? Her heart cracked wide open as she watched it struggle. “We have to do something!”
“Kaah has his reasons for everything.” Vesper’s tone softened but he shook his head. “We’re not meant to understand but we have to respect it.”
“This?” Her voice shook as the creature cried out again. It was like watching herself snared in that web, the threads wrapping around her throat. “This is cruel. Who could be this hateful?”
“No. Emmery, I mean it.” Vesper pointed to the winding path ahead. “Look, we’re almost past the edge of his territory. I’m sure it’ll get itself out of the web.”
