Soul Catcher (25 page)

Father Giloth continued. “The weapon stolen from your parents, the Aqua Stone, has the ability to move, change, and evaporate large bodies of water from any medium. It was used to
destroy your island and its inhabitants in a tsunami that completely drowned the land,” he said. “The death of the entire race ensured no further retaliation.”

His words hung in her mind and echoed through her thoughts, breaking her resolve as she collapsed in tears. Her entire race and their home had disappeared beneath the waves. She wasn’t just the sole survivor of her family—but of her whole race.

Aleco wrapped his arms around her and calmed her breathing. He ran his hands through her hair and whispered words of comfort until the sobs trickled to a controlled cry. Father Giloth watched Aleco in surprise. He had never seen him be so gentle, even with the plants he attended to in his youth.

Accacia exhaled deeply before she asked the question on her mind. “Where did they come from?” Accacia had no knowledge of her lineage, but she didn’t expect to be from any exotic place since the Continent was the only land in the known world.

“The secret code I taught you, the one we write, speak, and communicate with in delicate situations, is the language of the Asquith, an ancient race of people I spoke of on a few occasions. I chose to impart this knowledge to you because you are descended from that race. In fact, you are Asquithian. Your family was from the land of Asylinth, making you one of its members. Your mother and father had a prominent role in their complicated government, and volunteered as ambassadors to come to this continent and establish ties, in the hope they would be welcomed to live with the humans of the Continent.”

Accacia had never expected such a revelation. She had felt a connection to the Asquith people, agreeing with their spiritual viewpoints, the ones Orgoom Forest worshipped, and their respect of their fellow creatures, but she never expected a genetic tie to them. The more she thought about it, the less surprise she felt. She knew her features were slightly different than the humans of the Continent, with prominent angled features in her eyes and cheekbones. Her lithe body was petite
and slight in stature, smaller than the average female human. Her skin was a shade darker than the rest of the populace, like the glow of summer touched her skin throughout the year, and she always felt cold—always. She wondered if she came from a warmer climate.

“When the ambassadors and the army were attacked, somehow you ran from the carnage and into the woods, landing in my arms. I immediately recognized you for what you were, having knowledge of the meeting beforehand. I took you in and kept you hidden from the world. When Drake stumbled into my lands one afternoon and spotted you in the field, I assumed he recognized your ethnicity, but obviously that wasn’t so.”

“Why would he recognize me?”

Father Giloth lowered his gaze to the floor. He knew his following words would cause her the most pain. The Nature Priest wished he could lie to her. “Drake is the one who killed them.”

Accacia felt the hot tears fall down her face and soak her lips. She wiped them away with the sleeve of her shirt, but they continued to pour down her cheeks. Drake had destroyed her entire world, first stealing her freedom, killing her child, and then murdering her family, along with her entire race. Father Giloth watched the tears streak down her face. He hated having to reveal these disturbing words, but she needed to hear them. He had spared her as long as possible, but he couldn’t drag it out any longer.

Accacia looked down at her knotted hands and fought back the tears. She had always wanted to know how they met their end, and now that the time was here, she didn’t want to hear it. Aleco held her hand within his own and squeezed it. Drake had also killed his parents, so he understood her feelings more than anyone else. Now she knew why Father Giloth had waited to tell her.

Accacia stood up and wiped her tears. “Please excuse me,” she said as she walked to her bedroom. “I need a moment.”

Father Giloth and Aleco could hear her cries even from
her bedroom. Aleco’s body burned with hatred when he thought of his disturbed twin. He thought he couldn’t hate that fiend more than he already did, but he was wrong about that; hatred had an infinite value. Father Giloth pressed his fingertips to his lips and closed his eyes.

Aleco didn’t know if he should follow her. He wanted to comfort her, but he didn’t know if she wanted company. Whenever Aleco struggled with an emotion or dilemma, he never wanted to be bothered—until now. He would prefer Accacia by his side. Aleco wondered if she felt the same.

Aleco dropped his face into his palms. “Damn,” Aleco said. He thought about what she must be feeling and knew it was scarring enough to break her soul. There was a lot of disturbing information to take in at once. He wondered why Father Giloth knew so much about the event. He had never confided any of it to Aleco. “How do you know all of this? How could you possibly know he drowned their world? Drake would never confide that information to anyone.”

“I just do,” he said noncommittally.

Aleco thought about the lore of the stones of the universe. They were created by the ancient Asquith people, but were lost over time. Aleco knew a group of Asquithians had settled on the Continent to escape the battles plaguing their own island, but due to continental drift and the passage of time, they evolved into the humans they are today. The ancient stones were lost with no records of their whereabouts in existence. No one knew of their location. They were practically a myth.

Father Giloth told Aleco stories of their power in his youth, that they had the ability to destroy the earth in volcanic fire, erasing earth from existence. Father Giloth said the disappearance of the stones was a blessing; the Asquith people never should have made them to begin with. Drake’s possession of even one stone was a death sentence. It explained the severe dryness of Morkarh and their empty fountains.

“What are the other stones again?” Aleco asked.

“There is the Fire Stone, the Time Stone, the Death
Stone, and the fifth one is the Prescient Stone,” he said.

“Do you think he has the remaining four?” Aleco asked.

“No,” he said. “If he did, we would know. We wouldn’t be here to discuss it.” His meaning hung heavy in the air.

“Do you know where they are?” Aleco asked.

Father Giloth took a long sip of his tea before he spoke. “I think you should check on Accacia,” he said. “I’m worried about her.”

Father Giloth was right. Aleco shouldn’t be concerned about any of the things out of his control. He should be concerned with what was in his control, which was Accacia.

Aleco walked up the stairs and knocked on her bedroom door. He heard her sobs through the wooden doorway, but she didn’t respond to his announcement. He entered the room and found her lying on the bedspread, hugging a pillow to her chest. Aleco closed the door and approached the bed, sitting at the foot of the mattress. He removed his boots, crawled alongside her, and hugged her body next to his. She didn’t object to his closeness, even though their physical relationship was over. He kissed her on the forehead and ran his hand through her silky locks, an attempt to calm her heaving sobs. He kissed the tears dripping from her eyes and held her close in silence. He had nothing to say, nothing worth saying at least. He held her to his chest until she stopped crying and fell asleep.

Aleco watched her sleep for an hour. Her eyes finally opened and she grinned at the sight of his face next to hers. It made his heart melt, as it always did when she flashed him that perfect smile. He cupped her face with his hands and his thumb rested on her lips. He wanted to kiss her, but she made it clear that was no longer appropriate, so he forced himself to remain in control. The last thing he wanted was to upset her in this time of despair. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t being selfish. “Would you like to be alone?” he asked.

“Not particularly,” she said as she squeezed his hand.

“Are you ready to go back downstairs?”

“I suppose.”

Aleco wanted to dispel the agony he knew she was feeling. It was a pain he had carried his entire life. “Would you like to go on a walk through the forest?” he asked.

“That sounds lovely.” She smiled. “But I should probably stay inside as often as possible since the soldiers are patrolling the area.”

Aleco felt like an idiot. Instead of cheering her up, he reminded her of the man who was hunting her. He lifted her from the bed, and they walked down the stairs and back into the study. Father Giloth was staring at the stone on his desk when they entered.

“I apologize for my departure,” she said. “I just needed a moment to gather my bearings.”

“Not at all,” Father Giloth encouraged her. “I can only imagine what you must be feeling.” Accacia nodded. Aleco grabbed her hand within his own, and she squeezed it in return.

“There is one more thing I need to tell you, Accacia,” the Nature Priest said. Accacia’s eyes dropped to the ground and she sighed deeply. She didn’t know how much more she could take. “But I promise this will be the least painful, and may even give you a sense of hope.”

Accacia met his gaze. “What is it?”

“There is a smaller island adjacent to the destroyed one of the Asquith people, and it is populated with survivors of the catastrophe. I hope it brings you comfort knowing you are not the sole survivor of your race.”

“That’s wonderful.” She smiled. He was
right, it did give her hope, however slim it was.

“I know where it’s located if you ever wish to travel there.”

“I would love to go there someday,” she said.

“I assumed you would.”

They sat together in silence. Accacia looked down at Aleco’s calloused hand as he held her own. His thumb brushed along the blue veins of her wrist. The knowledge that she wasn’t the only survivor of such a marvelous race dulled the ache in her heart, but it couldn’t erase the unbearable pain she felt at the loss of her parents. Her experience with the duke would have been much different if she had known this information beforehand. She wondered if Father Giloth withheld it for that reason alone, but then she realized that was impossible. She would have killed the duke or died trying, probably the latter, if she had known he was the man responsible for their deaths. She couldn’t believe that she had carried his unborn child. Vomit flooded to her mouth as she reflected on the past. Accacia wanted nothing more than to kill him—he deserved to die.

Aleutian Keep, Letumian Province

30

“Is there anything else you need, sire?”

“No,”
the duke answered. “You may go. We leave at sunrise.”

“Very good, sire.” The chamberlain closed the door behind him. The duke was leaving for Roslyn the next morning, where he expected to be appointed to the throne. Everything was going as planned; nothing could stop him.

Drake looked around his empty bedchamber. His only company was the smoldering coals in the dying fire. The sofa still held Accacia’s imprint where she sat before the fire, reading a book from his magnificent library. A slight indent lined the cushion where her behind had marked its existence in the cotton, the only evidence that she was ever there. The duke walked over and sat in her usual seat but still felt her absence. He had fulfilled his life’s ambitions and he should feel elated at the accomplishment, except he wasn’t. There was only one thing on his mind.

Drake spotted a leather bound book lying on the table before him. It was the last book she read. He grabbed the novel and opened it, hoping a piece of her essence was within the pages. When he did, a small book fell from between the parchment sheets and dropped into his lap.

There was no title to the book. He flipped through the pages and realized it wasn’t a novel, but a journal—Accacia’s diary. He turned to the last page and began to read.

I have nothing further to add to my tale. Every day is as unremarkable as the previous. The only moments I look forward to are getting a new book from the library and the maid’s visit, where I can ask her about the city and its inhabitants. If I’m lucky, and he is away, she lets me help her clean the room. Dali is wonderful with a beautiful smile. She tells me about her children, and I can’t help but feel envy for her life. She may be a maid, a mere peasant, but she has choices. I don’t, nor will I ever. I have nothing else to say. I fear I never will again.

Drake flipped the pages to the middle of the journal.

I had the worst nightmare. I couldn’t recall it completely, it came in flashes and breaks, but I remember his hands around my throat. He squeezed tightly, restricting my windpipe until I couldn’t breathe. The blackness descended, and I knew the end was near. Instead of fear coursing through my body, the fear of my impending death, I felt happiness. I was finally going to die—finally, I would be free of him. I woke from the nightmare drenched in my sweat. I looked over and saw Drake sleeping undisturbed. He wore a smile on his face that almost looked innocent—almost. The happiness I felt disappeared and was replaced by a flood of despair. I wish it wasn’t a dream—I wish it was real.

Drake closed the journal and returned it to the table. He didn’t want to read any more. He ran his hands through his hair the way Accacia used to, but it didn’t feel the same. Fear gripped his body—he didn’t know if he would ever find her.

He rose from the couch and approached the dying embers of the hearth. He reached his hand up the chimney and tapped along the bricks until he felt the nook he had inserted in the column. He finally felt the familiar texture of the tablet and withdrew it from its hiding spot—the Aqua Stone. He held the square gem in his hands and appraised the surface. He had searched for the remaining stones, but had been unsuccessful in his attempts. He suspected they were hidden beyond his reach.

He was thankful he possessed at least one stone, even at the cost of an entire civilization, and he hoped he would come across the remaining four. He knew he would be around long enough to find them eventually. The idea of immortality stung when he thought of Accacia; she didn’t have her own gem. If she died, she would be gone—forever. He had to find her before it was too late.