The Spirit Heir (16 page)

"I need to speak with you," she said aloud to an empty room. But she needed to press forward before she lost her nerve, before her mind drifted back to the two people still talking in the cell downstairs.

The voice did not respond.

Jinji collapsed on the bed, hugging a soft pillow to her torso as she curled her knees into her chest.

"I must speak with you," she whispered, fighting the emotions forming a knot in her throat.

I'm here.

Warm relief shot down her spine. "I know you are not the shadow. I know you are who you said you are, the spirit dragon, the guardian."

Good. Do you trust me now? Will you let me in?

"I need to ask you a question first."

Anything.

"Why did the shadow come back? What does it want?"

Revenge
.

"Against who?"

Me…for breaking my promise.

Just as Jinji was about to ask a question, her vision grew spotty, faded away until she was back in the void of her mind, the place between consciousness where she had last been hours before, on the docks, moments before drowning. The spirit dragon was going to give her another memory, an explanation, Jinji knew it just as a light blinked into existence behind her eyelids…

Outside the window, dusk was beginning to take hold. With each new shade of darkness creeping forth, her heart sank further and the sense of dread weighing on her chest grew heavier. But she continued to climb, white stone steps passed under her feet, over and over again the higher she ascended.

Until a new color invaded her vision.

Red.

One small droplet stained the rock, but it was enough. Terror coursed through her system and she began to run. A river of red flowed down the steps, soaking her feet, staining the bottom of her skirts. As she crested the top step, a scream tore free from her gut, jagged, coarse as though shredding her from the inside out.

Dead.

They were all dead.

Fifty men, women, children—her friends, her life, her pupils.

Her lover. She saw his blue eyes from across the room, open in death as though searching for her, searching for salvation. Somehow, someway, she would give it to him.

"I know you're here," she called, voice raspy as it echoed against the walls around her.

"I am."

He stepped out from behind a white column, once pristine but now splattered in blood. Without thinking, she drew the knife from her belt and threw it with all of her strength. He stepped easily out of the path, laughing quietly to himself.

"You know better than that." He shook his head. "If you kill this body, I will just find another innocent to possess. You didn't really think I would come in my original form, did you?"

"No," she whispered, body shaking in rage. "Why? Why did you do this?"

"Because," he spat, stepping over the bodies, coming closer, "you play in this world and forget about me, leave me alone for thousands of years, living a life I can never be a part of. We are supposed to be two sides of the same, together for eternity, together in the ether. But you come here, to this spirit world where I cannot follow, and live a million lives. While I am left to watch over the dead, living vicariously through their memories, never feeling anything of my own. But now I feel, I feel too much and it makes me want to hurt you for leaving me so alone for so long."

"I'm doing what I was created to do, guarding the world of the living," she said, but could not stop her eyes from looking away, looking at the floor to cover the lie.

He laughed, lifting his arm and pointing to the empty walls around them. But she knew what he was referencing. She knew it was the truth. "You created them to protect, to guard this realm in your absence. You created men who could control them for you, could do your job for you. No, I do not think you come to this world to guard—you come to live as a human. But you are not human and you never will be."

As he spoke, her eyes swept the room, listening to his words while she absorbed the destruction surrounding her. Even now, deep within her soul, she heard the cries of a thousand humans outside these walls, yelling to be saved, praying to be saved. But the souls of the dead could not be beat, especially not now with her soldiers dead around her. She had already flooded the lands, called the survivors as close to her power as she could, but her shadow-self was relentless.

It was time to finally admit defeat.

"What would you have me do?" she asked, voice softer than a whisper.

"Come home and never leave me again. Let us live out eternity the way it was intended."

He closed the distance between them and grabbed her hand, squeezing her palm. She looked up, seeing beyond the human body he wore, to the person she knew better than herself. He was not evil, not really. Every person he killed would be reborn in a new age—eventually he would grant them life again. He had never felt human emotions, he did not understand how permanent death felt, even to her, someone who understood that these souls would grace her spirit world again.

But would those blue eyes ever look at her the same? With compassion?

She closed her lids tight, wincing with the pain.

The floor was decorated with her dead loved ones, and for the first time, she understood how alone her shadow-self must have felt every time she left him, every time she lived a life without him, every time he was abandoned in the ether with no one to talk to, never knowing when she would return.

"I promise," she said, swallowing, lifting her gaze from the floor. "Bring the souls of the dead back to your shadow realm, remove yourself from this world, and I will follow you. I will remain in the ether for the rest of time, by your side, in our true forms. I promise."

"If you break that promise, you know I will follow you back here."

"I know."

The body before her shivered and his blank eyes cleared, returning to the warm brown of the original body, letting her know her shadow-self was gone. Those same eyes widened in horror, in confusion, but before he had a chance to scream, she used the spirits to silence him, to send him on his way back home.

Then she waited, holding her dead lover in her arms, until she felt the shadow disappear from her world, felt his soul drift away from her grasp.

"Goodbye," she whispered, leaning down to touch her lips to the cold forehead in her lap. Then she rose, and without hesitation, plunged a knife through her heart…

Jinji gasped, sitting up on the bed as awareness returned, clutching her chest as though somehow the knife would still be there.

But it wasn't.

The walls around her were white, but they were decorated with woven tapestries and wooden furniture, not gruesome splatters of blood. She was still in Rayfort. Still at the castle. Still herself.

The voice’s memory faded, leaving more questions in its wake.

"Why did you return?" she asked.

Because I had to
, the voice said, ever so soft, a slight tremble in the tone. And then it was gone, fleeing back into the corners of her mind, demanding solace.

"Come back," she whispered.

But the voice was gone.

And Jinji wasn't sure when, if ever, it would return.

10

RHEN

~ RAYFORT ~

"Jin!" Rhen called, but it was too late. She had already disappeared down the hall and out the door, gone in the blink of an eye. Slowly, he turned back around, eyes wide. "What…?"

The princess released a small breath of air, sounding almost like a soft laugh. "I'm sure you'll understand soon."

"Do you understand?" Rhen raised an eyebrow, questioning.

She just nodded her head, though the mysterious bend of her lips hinted at a smile. "I'm a woman, of course I understand."

Rhen knotted his brows, more confused than ever—but at least this was a familiar confusion. Not about war. Not about magic. Not about the future. Just a normal, everyday experience for men all across the kingdom.

Women…

Rhen shrugged with a sigh. They were a concept he might never understand, but in truth, he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to.

"Princess," he began, struggling to get back on topic.

"Just Leena, please. I'm no longer the princess I was."

Rhen looked up, meeting the haunt in her dark umber eyes. Though her words said one thing, everything else about her screamed royalty. The authority in her stance, the graceful way she held her head just half an inch too high, the command in her voice. As if that weren't enough, elegant tattoos swirled up her tan arms, branding her undeniably as a princess. But Rhen just nodded, keeping those thoughts to himself. If anyone understood running away, abandoning the throne, seeking normalcy, it was him.

"Leena, then," he said. "Why did you come?"

"I came for many reasons…" She paused, swallowing, slipping her gaze to the floor before meeting his eyes once more. "But they all combine to one—my father is an evil man and he must be stopped. I will not allow him to rule over any kingdom any longer."

"I have experienced the wrath of King Razzaq myself, a fate you once saved me from. But is he not your father? Do you truly share no loyalty?" Rhen's chest tightened, sorry to question her faith so quickly, but it needed to be done.

"Do you love your family, Prince Whylrhen?"

Rhen narrowed his gaze, wondering where his answer would lead, but spoke truthfully. "I do."

"And your new nephew, the future king? Do you love him? Would you do anything for him?"

"I would," Rhen responded, mind drifting to little Whyllean—just a baby too young to be a king, too young to be fatherless. Rhen had already sacrificed much to protect his nephew—his very identity had been victim to the cause, no longer Rhen to people, now Lord of Fire in their eyes. But he would do whatever it took to keep the child alive, to keep his family alive.

"Then you will never understand what it means to be Ourthuri," she confessed, voice as hard as the metals of her homeland. Eyes glazing over, the princess continued in a furious whisper, tone wavering with the strength of her anger. "It means we do not love, we fear. I have twelve sisters—not a single one would hesitate to kill me if they saw me now. I have one brother—a little boy I love more than anyone else alive in this world. But he is turning into a stranger before my eyes, no longer the caring toddler I once knew. No—my father is warping him, twisting him just like the gold bands that adorn his cold body, molding him into the proper shape. And I cannot stand idly by, watching as my kingdom is cursed to another harsh reign, another king who favors punishment above praise, another king who rules by fear."

Leena paused, breathing heavily. Rhen remained silent, moved by the conviction in her words, saddened by the bleak picture she painted.

"You are fighting a war to save your kingdom. And I am fighting one to save mine," she finished solemnly.

Just as Rhen parted his lips to reply, feet pounded against stone, echoing down the hall, growing louder as the distance closed. Without turning, Rhen already knew who it was. Sealing his open mouth, he waited for the inevitable interruption, which came only a few moments later.

"Where is the second one? The slave?" Whyllem asked as he entered the cell, face red from running, voice a pant.

"There was never a slave," Rhen said, gritting his teeth as a new bout of heat ran through his veins. "The guards mistook the Lady Jinji for an Ourthuri slave due to the scars around her wrists, but I released her and sent her back to her rooms."

Both Leena and Whyllem smirked at his comment—each for different reasons. Leena he was sure remembered Jinji's exit quite differently. And Whyllem, well, there could be a multitude of reasons behind the smile widening his brother's cheeks and the wicked glint flaring to life in his eyes. Perhaps he recalled catching Rhen in her rooms this morning. Or maybe it was the realization as to why Rhen had left in such anger. Or…

"That explains the guard with a bloody nose outside," Whyllem drawled.

Oh, right...
Rhen flexed his fingers, knuckles sore now that the memory had resurfaced.

Before Rhen could think of a response, Leena stepped forward, curtsying with her head bowed. "I am Leena, former princess of Ourthuro, and I thank you for the protection the family of Whyl has offered me."

"Are we offering it?" Whyllem asked, question pointed at Rhen.

The princess stood, closing her eyes, holding them tightly shut in a prolonged wince, before also turning her attention to Rhen.