Souls of the Never: A Fantasy Scifi Romance Time Travel series, with Dragons, Elves and Faeries. (Tales of the Neverwar Series Book 1)

Copyright 2014 C J Rutherford

This book may not be reproduced, copied, distributed or used in whole or in part for commercial purposes, nor resold or given away to other people without the written permission of the author.

Souls of the Never

Book one of Tales of the Neverwar

Books in the series

Origins of the Never

Worlds of the Never

and the upcoming

War of the Never

Don’t forget to pick up the free prequel to the series

Origins of the Never

Acknowledgments.

There are a few people that I wish to thank.

First of all, my family, who have put up with me pretending to listen to them for the last few months. Unfortunately, book three is underway, so you better start leaving me notes.

Next, Auntie L, who supported me and helped me with ideas.

Then there’s a few other author friends, who helped me edit a badly written manuscript into what you now hold in your hands. You know who you are.

And Robert Frazier, who made this amazing cover and helped proof read the book.

Thank you all.

1 – The Island – In the recent past

Katheryne ran.

People say you run faster when you’re scared. Katheryne ran because she was terrified! Her lungs seared as they breathed in the acrid smoke, but she forced one leg in front of the other as she fled the beach. Her hands swept palm fronds aside, even as the trunks around her smouldered.

Up ahead, the smoke cleared briefly, and she saw the hollow. She would be safe there; it was her special place. She renewed her effort, coughing through the sleeve of the pyjamas she held over her mouth.

A root rose from the cracking ground, and Katheryne sprawled headlong into the sparse jungle undergrowth. She cried out as she got onto her hands and knees. The jungle was alight, and the ferns she lay upon flashed into fire, scorching her skin. The heat intensified so rapidly she couldn’t breathe. She turned around to see the beach overcome with a tide of lava, as a pillar of flame rose like a crimson tornado to set the sky aflame.

Katheryne looked around to see the hollow engulfed in flame. Her soul cried out, and she dropped to her knees as the last shred of hope departed her heart.

A fireball exploded from the rivers of lava surrounding the island. She raised her arms to stave off her inevitable destruction, but the inferno washed over her. She stood like an ember, scorched and cracked, screaming in agony. The sound died, as the oxygen in her lungs ignited.

As she writhed in unimaginable pain and torture, Katheryne sensed the familiar, malevolent presence. The beast reached out with flaming talons. Agony flayed every nerve in her body. Over and over she tried to scream, but there was no air left to inhale...

*

Katheryne awoke when violently shaken. Through the haze of wakefulness, she heard someone screaming. Slowly realising the wailing came from her, she tried to stop, but couldn’t control her body.
Where was she? Where was the fire? Why, how was she alive?

Kat, it’s okay. It’s just another dream.” Perri held her friend as the shivering and screaming subsided, melting away into gentle exhaustion. Sweat drenched Katheryne’s body; her blonde hair stuck to her face, and her T-shirt clung to her body.

Perri looked at Katheryne as she recovered. She gently laid her friend’s head back on the pillow, wondering how much more she could take.

The dreams started over six months ago; at least, this was when Katheryne realised she was having them. The initial fits of wakefulness at night had rapidly descended into torture.

As Perri watched, Katheryne’s glazed expression showed a spark of awareness. She hesitantly looked up at her friend, guilt etching her expression. “Rough one, huh?” Perri murmured.

Katheryne croaked. “God, I feel like crap. What time is it?” She ran her fingers over her face to remove the hair plastered there, and groaned as she saw the luminous numbers beside her bed. It was 4:30 a.m.

Her heart gradually returned to a normal rhythm, and the trauma of the dream lost its potency, fading into a vague memory. “So, did I wake up anyone else this time?” She sat up, swinging her feet out to touch the floor, but not trusting them to support her weight.

Perri looked at her in exasperation. Her brows creased and she stifled a yawn. “I’m not sure. I think there might be a couple of fellas still asleep across town, but I wouldn’t bet on it.”

Perri and Katheryne were students at Queens University, and shared the largest room in a five-bedroom house, in the Lisburn road area of Belfast, Northern Ireland. Unfortunately for the others in the house, the walls were paper thin. Katheryne groaned, putting her head in her hands. “God, I’m in for it in the morning, aren’t I?”

Perri might have been angry with Katheryne, if this wasn’t the third time this month she’d had to wake her up to stop her screaming. The neighbour’s curtains already twitched when the girls came in and out, and she didn’t want to give them any more ammunition. It was a student housing neighbourhood. The locals were well used to parties and the like, but only last week Perri walked into the corner shop, and overheard two of them talking about the noise coming from their house. No, screams were definitely not a great idea at the moment.

“I’m sorry,” Katheryne repeated, coming out of the funk brought on by the dream. “It just seemed so real.”

“Can you remember anything?” asked Perri. “Why don’t you try what the doctor mentioned, you know, the self-hypnotising thingy? Maybe it’ll actually work this time.”

Perri had persuaded her friend, under much duress, to see her doctor the previous month. He’d referred her to a private clinic; Katheryne had money, enough that she could have set them both up in a private apartment, but she wanted to live the student life with her friends. She did, however, have private medical insurance. No National Health waiting lists for her. After all the standard tests were run, she was pronounced healthy, and in great shape overall. Perri joked at the time that Katheryne made her sick. The staff, however, referred Katheryne to a therapist who specialised in sleeping disorders. He taught her several techniques to relax her body and mind prior to sleep. He also taught Katheryne self-hypnosis to aid her in remembering her dreams.

Katheryne sighed and closed her eyes, relaxing as she slowed her breathing, and tried to make sense of the jumbled, vague mist in her head. She thought she could sense a faint wisp of a memory. She tried to grasp it, chasing it around, but it proved too elusive. Whatever it was, it faded before she could catch it.

“Nothing,” she muttered in frustration. “Except the fire and the pain.”

Bitterness edged the last sentence. Who could blame her, thought Perri. This dream was evil, and it was eating away at her friend, piece by tiny piece, each time she dreamt it.

Perri saw the direction the downward spiral was heading. Katheryne had always been one of the sanest, most level-headed people she knew. It was amazing, considering what she’d been through over the last few years. During the last few weeks, however, she’d become introverted, and prone to bouts of depression and self-doubt. She lost more confidence in herself with each occurrence of this dream, or whatever it was. Perri couldn’t be sure, and she was no expert, but the pain Katheryne experienced while she slept wasn’t normal. The pain was real. She had to help, any way she could.

Perri walked over to her own bed, yawning theatrically. She had to break this mood. “You know if you keep talking that way, you’ll confirm what I’ve known about you for years.” She sounded much brighter than she felt.

“If you’re going to say I’m insane, I’ll agree with you.” Katheryne lay staring vacantly at the ceiling.

“Insane? Nah. Just weird, maybe borderline psychotic, definitely screwy.” Perri thought she saw a flicker of a smile touch Katheryne’s lips. “But insane? Frankly, I don’t think you have the brains to be insane… Hey!” She broke off as Katheryne whacked her on the side of the head with a pillow.

It worked! The brief distraction diverted her friend from plunging deeper into the depression.

“That’ll teach you,” laughed Katheryne. She got up to retrieve her pillow, and leaned in to embrace Perri, her eyes wet with unshed tears.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and broke off before returning to her own bed. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to try to salvage what’s left of my sanity and get some sleep.”

“Hmm, says the mad girl who just woke up the whole street.” Perri laughed. “Night, Kat.” She glanced over, but Katheryne was already asleep. It never failed to amaze her how her friend could do that. Katheryne could fall asleep at will. She’d always been able to, as long as Perri had known her.

“Unbelievable!” Perri harrumphed, as her friend began to breath deeply
. If I had a dream like that, I’d be terrified to put my head back on the pillow, never mind fall asleep in five seconds flat
, she thought. “Like I said…crazy.” She laid her head down, knowing sleep would be a long time coming.

2 – The Glade – The arrival

Sixteen years earlier

Calleyne took shelter behind the mighty oak, kneeling down slowly to avoid disturbing the twigs on the ground. After three days of careful tracking, he was moments away from making the kill. The last thing he wanted to do now was give himself away. He unwrapped and strung his longbow, notching an arrow to the bowstring.

He had been dreading this moment for days. The stag was an old friend, and had been a part of his life since his father taught him to shoot a bow and hunt. Now, as he kneeled on the ground, he thought back to when he’d first seen the animal, over a decade ago, on his first ever foray with his father.

They sat huddled together in a hide he helped make. While they watched the herd pass, Calleyne caught his breath in wonder when his father pointed out the newborn buck.

He was beautiful and graceful, even in those early days, his bearing a sign of the majesty to come in later years. He’d grown to become head of the herd, and been uncontested for the last five seasons.

Calleyne watched him many times over the years, either from one of the concealed shelters scattered throughout the forest, or by using his arts to hide himself. He smiled as he imagined what his father might have said. “Cheating,” he’d always called it. “A great woodsman doesn’t need magic to catch his dinner.” He would have scowled.

His father had been dead for two years, however, lost in the deep forest while hunting a rare white stag, and besides, this hunt was not about catching food. This action he was about to take, although it wrenched at his heart, was a necessary kindness. The stag was infected with a malady which had swept through the great herds, decimating them.

The Elders in the Citadel had tasked Calleyne, and the other hunters, to bring such a beast back for them to study, to see if a cure for the disease could be found. Part of him was glad his old friend might serve some greater purpose than as meat over a fire pit.

A slight rustle on the far side of the clearing brought him back to the here and now. Although it was over half a mile away, his elven senses brought everything into crystal clarity. He watched the herd cautiously emerge from the trees, spreading out to graze on the long, sweet grass of the meadow. As he looked on, over twenty does appeared, young fawns among them, along with older bucks. For a moment he thought the stag must have died on the forest trail, for he was not among them, but then the trees parted, and he entered. Calleyne gazed at him with admiration and respect.

He was majestic, with over twenty points on his huge head, but sickness caused that head to bow in fatigue, and those same antlers were now blackened and withered. Calleyne felt pity, but he knew what he had to do was more humane than letting the animal suffer a slow and painful death. He could not do that to a friend.

Calleyne drew the arrow back, far enough to touch his cheek, taking careful aim at the stag’s heart, so the kill would be quick and clean. He hesitated for a second, to utter a spell which would ensure the arrow flew true, before releasing the string and sending it on its way...just as the whole herd scattered in panic, as a loud wail broke the silence.

Calleyne watched as the stag limped away, bleeding, the arrow buried deep in its hind quarters, and he cursed whatever made that unholy sound. The beast would be easy enough to track, and wouldn’t get very far, but it would suffer in pain until the end. Calleyne rushed to unstring his bow and take after the herd, when he heard the sound again, coming from halfway between him and where the deer entered the clearing. It sounded oddly familiar, a mewling, like a cat in pain, but it was too far to see anything through the long grass.

He weighed his choices. He could track and kill the stag, putting it out of its misery, or he could delay, to investigate the strange wailing noise. After a moment’s thought, he decided. If it was an injured big cat, the danger it posed to other wildlife or travellers was the greater risk. He took off, loping across the meadow in the slow, steady gait all hunters used.

As he approached the sound’s point of origin, he slowed and drew his hunter’s knife. It was more like a short sword, and had been his father’s. The enchantment within the crystal set in the pommel always kept its edge keen, and it was the only magical item his father had possessed. It had been a wedding present from his late wife, and the sunlight reflected off it as Calleyne crept forward.

He could hear the cry clearly now, and his breath caught as he placed the sound. This was no animal in distress. It was a baby, a crying baby. He couldn’t believe his eyes as the tall grass gave way to a flat patch of earth. It was as if the grass had been burnt away, but there was no blackness or smoke, and in the middle of this patch lay a squealing, wailing, pink infant.

Calleyne had never seen a baby before, at least, not up close. His mother died in childbirth, and his father raised him in a cabin in the forest. His aunt and uncle lived with them, but they were childless. He’d seen a baby once, from a distance, during a visit to the Citadel, but looking on this bundle of noise, Calleyne hadn’t the first idea what to do.

All thoughts of the stag left his mind, as he kneeled down and picked up the baby. A little girl, he thought absently. He released the clasp at his shoulder and shrugged his light cloak to the ground, placing the baby within, and wrapping her gently while trying to decide what to do.

His aunt and uncle wouldn’t know how to care for a baby, any more than he did, so he set off for the Citadel. The Elders would know best. As he loped along, holding the baby to his breast, the motion soothed and quietened her, and she fell asleep.

Calleyne looked down at her as he ran. She was beautiful, with dark curls of hair framing her now peaceful face. Her ears were oddly rounded, not pointed like his and everyone else’s, but he was sure that was because she was a baby. She’d develop normally as she grew up.

What will become of you?
he thought, as he ran toward an uncertain future. Little did Calleyne know, the answer to his question might decide the fate of everyone, everywhere.