Soulbinder (Book 3) (26 page)

“I’ll leave the facial hair changes to Maklavir, thank you very much,” said Kendril. He stepped towards the back of the warehouse, his boots shuffling through the deep snow.

Behind him, Kara suddenly stopped.

Kendril looked back, an irritated look on his face. “Are you coming?”

“What was her name?” she asked.

Kendril blinked. “What?”

“The woman. What was her name?”

The Ghostwalker bit his lip and glanced away awkwardly. “You mean Jade--?”

Kara lowered her voice. “Not her.”

Kendril spun his head back around. A fire simmered in his eyes. “How do you know there
was
a woman?”

She crossed her arms again. “Please, give me some credit.” She gave him a sympathetic look. “So what was her name?”

He tapped the hilt of his sword. “Celeste.”

Kara looked down at the ground. “Did you love her?”

Kendril nodded slowly. “Yes.”

She looked back up at the dark-cloaked man. “So…what exactly--?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Kendril said abruptly. “Let’s go.”

The redhead pushed a little further. “Is she the reason why you’re wearing…that?” She gestured to his black cloak.

“I said I don’t want to talk about it,” Kendril snapped. “Now come on.”

They moved around towards the rear of the warehouse, tromping heavily through the snow. Crisp white flakes began to fall again from the gray sky above, gently pelting their faces and raised hoods.

“This weather,” Kendril grumbled. “How can anyone manage to live in this Eru-forsaken—”

Kara grabbed the Ghostwalker’s arm. “There,” she said with a nod of her head. Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Kendril followed her gaze.

Just ahead of them was the back door to their warehouse, the one that they didn’t use.

There were several deep footsteps in the snow around the entrance.

Kendril yanked out his pistol. He listened for a moment. “No sounds of working in there.”

Kara felt her heart stop. She reached for her dagger.

“That all you have?” Kendril asked with a contemptuous glance at her weapon.

“I guess I’m not a walking arsenal like you,” she shot back.

“Get back,” said Kendril. His voice hissed out in the cold air. “I’ll go first.”

Kara didn’t argue. “Fine with me.”

The Ghostwalker stepped forward, stepping softly through the deep snow. He sidled up against the back of the warehouse, a pistol in each hand.

For a moment he listened against the door, straining to hear any noise from inside.

Kara crouched beside him, her dagger out and ready. It looked woefully small in her gloved hand.

Kendril glanced back at the young woman, then motioned with the barrel of his pistol at the back door.

Kara nodded.

Kendril kicked the door hard.

The wood cracked as part of the frame shattered. The door burst open.

The Ghostwalker swept inside, both pistols lowered.

Something moved directly to his left, just inside the door. A cloaked, hooded figure leapt forward and grabbed at Kendril’s arm.

They scuffled for a moment. Kendril’s pistol banged off in the semi-darkness of the warehouse, the bullet drilling into the ceiling above.

Kara started forward, her dagger at the ready.

With a snarl Kendril pistol-whipped his attacker across the face with the barrel of his spent pistol.

The hooded figure fell back with a cry of pain.

Kendril brought down the other gun, tossing his fired pistol to the floor. His free hand reached for the hilt of his sword.

Kara leapt up beside him, ready to cover his exposed flank.

At least a half dozen more figures emerged from the shadows of the warehouse, cloaked and hooded. There was the dull gleam of a blade being drawn.

“Wait!” Joseph appeared from behind the coach, his hand held out in front of him.

Kendril trained his gun on the nearest hooded figure.

Kara hesitated, her hand still clutching her knife.

The nearest figure stepped forward, and lowered its hood.

The kindly face of an elderly woman appeared, gray hair tied tightly behind her head. She smiled wanly. “Hello, Kendril,” she said. “You’re a hard man to find.”

Chapter 16

“I think you broke my nose.”

“You deserve it, Callen,” Kendril responded testily. “What were you doing, watching the back door? A sloppy job if I ever saw one.”

Callen rubbed his swollen nose. A bloody piece of cloth was stuffed up one of his nostrils. “If you hadn’t come in ready to kill everyone in sight, then maybe—”

“Enough,” said the elderly woman, kindly but firmly. She sat in a chair by the warehouse’s only table. “You could have certainly made yourself easier to find, Kendril. We have been scouring the city for you. After your letter--”

“Yes,” said Kendril self-consciously as he paced the warehouse floor, “well a lot has happened since then. We’ve had reason to keep a low profile.”

“Letter?” asked Joseph. He looked over at Kendril. “The one you sent from Stefgarten?”

Kendril nodded silently. He glanced back at Callen. “Sorry about the nose,” he grumbled. “Just reflex.”

Callen lowered his hood to reveal a freckled face and a tangled mop of strawberry-blonde hair. “It really hurts.”

“Oh, quit your whining, Callen,” said one of the other new arrivals, a tall and commanding man with a sharp face and black hair. “You sound like a neophyte, for Eru’s sake.”

Kara looked around at the group of black-cloaked individuals, her face showing her confusion. “Wait,” she said slowly, “so all of you are…?”

Joseph nodded. “Ghostwalkers.”

That word hung for a moment in the silence of the chilly warehouse air.

The black-haired man gave Kendril a bitter glance. “Haven’t you told your new friends about us before, Kendril?”

Kendril’s mouth curled into a half sneer. “I make it a point not to discuss garbage, Olan.”

The other Ghostwalker bristled.

The elderly woman rose, and turned to face Joseph and Kara. “I apologize. Our coming has obviously taken you by surprise.”

“Yes,” said Joseph with a side-glance at Kendril, “well it’s hard to expect someone when you’re never told they’re coming in the first place.”

“I am Madris,” the old woman said with a slight bow. “You know Callen, I believe, and Olan.” She turned to the remaining Ghostwalkers, who hung about the shadows of the room’s periphery. “That is Wanara,” she gestured to a cloaked young woman with long white hair and startling red eyes. “Hamis.” She nodded to an imposing, large man with a bald head and a brown beard. “And Tomas.” She pointed at the last Ghostwalker, a thin, tall man with an angular face and piercing blue eyes.

Joseph returned the bow. “I am Joseph, and this is Kara.”

“Now that we’ve all made our introductions,” Olan growled, “can we get to the matter at hand?”

All heads turned to Kendril.

Madris sat back down. She folded her hands on the table in front of her. “Well, Kendril? Your letter mentioned a matter of the utmost urgency.”

The Ghostwalker paused. He rubbed a gloved hand over his face. “A Soulbinder has been found. I believe that it is in the hands of a nobleman named Baron Dutraad, here in Vorten.” He looked over at Madris. “I do not know what his intentions with it are.”

There was deathly silence for a moment.

Madris narrowed her gaze. “You are sure of this?”

Kendril nodded. “I am certain.”

Olan clenched a fist. “You made no mention of this in your letter.”

Kendril shifted his gaze to the other Ghostwalker. “I was not sure then what I was dealing with. Now I have held the Soulbinder myself. It is real.”

“You lost it?” It was Tomas who spoke, half-shrouded in shadow at the room’s edge. His voice was as cold as the ice on the warehouse’s windows.

Kendril’s face twitched. “It was…unavoidable.”

Olan snorted. “I would say rather incompetence.”

Kendril straightened, staring hard at the other Ghostwalker.

“This is a serious matter,” said Madris slowly. “To have lost the Soulbinder is a grave blow.”

Kendril bowed his head. “I know, Madris. I am sorry.”

Olan shook his head. “If you had had a team of Ghostwalkers working with you, Kendril, instead of pursuing this like a lone wolf, you might have—”

“There is an assassin involved,” Kendril broke in. “A woman. She is expertly trained. Knives, throwing blades, hand-to-hand combat.” He reached into a pocket and drew out one of the throwing blades the assassin had left behind, then set it on the table for all to see.

“We can handle one assassin,” said Hamis in a rumbling voice.

“I doubt that this assassin is working alone,” said Madris quietly. “Vorten has long been a center for cultic activity.” She looked up at Kendril. “Do you know which cult is involved?”

Kendril scowled. “No.”

“But you suspect this Baron Dutraad?”

Kendril met her gaze. “I can’t
prove
anything yet, but yes.”

Tomas smiled thinly. “Dutraad has come to our attention in the past.” He shifted his gaze to Madris. “The good Baron has an interest in the occult and ancient pagan religions. There have been investigations, quiet of course, but they have always turned up nothing of consequence.”

Madris sighed. “And one does not interrogate a Baron frivolously, especially one that is a favorite of the King of Valmingaard.”

“So
this
is what you do,” said Joseph. He looked over at Kendril. “And that’s why you didn’t want to tell me. You Ghostwalkers track down cults and followers of the pagan gods. You’re witch hunters.”

“More than that.” Madris gave Joseph a chilling glance. “We are the silent, invisible hand of Eru. We watch in the night where others fear to look. We hunt those who worship the darkness, and ensure they fall and do not rise. We are the tireless guardians of all that is good and pure, seeking penance by battling the followers of the old gods. Since the Second Despair we have followed the example of Tuldor Swiftblade, who slew a creature of the Void before the western gate at the Battle of Archangel. We watch, and when we strike, we do not falter.”

“Except,” said Olan angrily, “when we hand Soulbinders over to servants of Despair.”

Kendril threw the man a dagger-filled glare.

Joseph looked around at the group of Ghostwalkers. “So you all think this may be the start of…of another Despair? Like in Kendril’s dream, the one with the Guardian?”

His comment was met with blank stares.

Kendril sighed. He turned away from the group.

“And…Kendril didn’t mention his dream in the letter he sent you,” Joseph said slowly.

“No,” said Madris with a keen glance at the Ghostwalker’s back. “He did not.”

Olan hissed out his breath in a sharp exclamation. “This is all we need. Now Kendril is having…
visions
? I suppose he is a prophet now? What of it, Kendril? Do you have any divine revelations you would like to share with us?”

Kendril faced the window, unmoving.

Madris cast Olan a warning glance. “Olan—”

He swung towards the woman, his hand clenching on one of the empty chairs by the table. “Don’t try to defend him, Madris. He’s led us on a merry chase to nowhere.” He looked over his shoulder at Kendril. “How do we know any of his tale is true? There may well be no Soulbinder at all.”

“The Soulbinder is real,” said Kara hotly. She blushed self-consciously as all faces turned towards her. “Well, at least the
pendant
is real. I saw it myself. I don’t know if it’s a Soulbinder or not.”

“Either way, we are committed,” said Madris. She raised a hand as Olan started to speak. “We cannot afford to take the risk, Olan. If a Soulbinder
has
surfaced, and it is in the hands of worshippers of the Seteru, then…”

“Then we’d all better run for the mountains,” said Callen glumly. He poked gingerly at his swollen nose.

Kendril turned around to face the room. “I have a plan.”

Olan sniffed. “Does it involve dragging us all up here to suffer frostbite for your delusions?”

Kendril kept his eyes fixed on Madris. “I’m going in to Baron Dutraad’s estate. If the Soulbinder is there, I will find it and bring it out.”

Olan raised his eyebrows. “
You
are going to do this?”

Joseph gave the man an irritated look. “
We
are going to do it.”

“
You
?” Tomas gave both Joseph and Kara a quick look. “Neither of you are Ghostwalkers.”

Joseph opened his mouth to respond, but the words fell short.

“We can’t barge into Dutraad’s estate by force,” said Kendril quietly.

Hamis spat behind a nearby barrel. “I bet we could.”

“I think,” said Madris, “that Kendril means we
shouldn’t
force out way into Dutraad’s estate.” She looked over at Hamis, a twinkle in her eyes. “And whenever
Kendril
is reluctant to solve any problem with the edge of a sword, I am inclined to take his word on the matter.”

Olan paced in front of the carriage. He banged the side of it with a gloved hand. “So is this your plan, Kendril? To pretend you’re a nobleman?”

“I don’t need to pretend,” said Kendril. His voice was low and steady. “I have a diplomat all ready to play the role.” He looked over at Madris. “I just need your permission. My team is almost ready.”

Kara and Joseph looked over at Kendril in surprise.

Olan gave Kendril a withering glare. “Your
team
? That is certainly humorous, Kendril, coming from you.” He stepped towards the Ghostwalker. “You have never worked in a team, never accepted any responsibility, never followed orders—”

Kendril scowled. “I accept orders just fine when they’re not given by an incompetent fool.”

Olan’s hand snatched for the hilt of his sword.

Kendril flipped back his cloak and grasped one of his short swords.

“Olan! Kendril!” Madris snapped.

Both man hesitated a moment, then removed their hands from their weapons.

“We don’t have to worry about Despair,” came Tomas’ sardonic voice. “Especially when we intend to kill each other.”