Veiled Innocence (Book One, The Soul Cycle) (30 page)

A pile of sticks fell at her feet
,
and she spooked. She hadn't heard Merí approach. “Arrange these,”
Merí
said. Then she was gone again.

Lian was
grateful for the distraction
and began sorting through the branches as best she could. She had never arranged sticks for a fire before; the servants took care of that sort of thing. But there were no servants now, no one to bring her meals and tend to her fires. 

By the time Merí returned, Lian had a decent stack arranged, with the biggest sticks on the ground and forming a point with the smaller sticks. Merí
kneeled
down, and Lian watched her hopefully.

Merí said nothing
and began throwing on the additional branches.

Her carefully arranged bonfire
became no more than a pile of wood.
Lian
scowled, crawling away from Merí, and plopped down on the grass. She crossed her arms and peered through the darkness at Rowan, who was still pouting by the tree.

What an exceptionally cheerful lot we make
.

“It’s terrible, isn't it?” Lian said, watching as Merí produced two stones from her vest pocket and began striking them together. Crickets started warming up for their nightly performance, and the air began to cool as the moon rose over the horizon, blanketing them in silver light. 

“‘Terrible’ is a constant state of being for some,” Merí said.  “Eventually
,
they think of it as normal.” She continued to hit the stones together without looking at
Lian
, face hard with concentration.

Lian faltered. “I've never thought of it like that.” She piddled with her fingernails, which were rimmed in dirt. “I just thought after all that's happened, all that was lost...”

Merí's head snapped up. “You know
nothing
of loss.”

Lian abruptly closed her mouth and went rigid under the weight of that cold stare.

Merí broke her gaze and resumed trying to ignite the kindling. Her stones shot out tiny sparks, but no fire yet.

Lian mutely watched her, afraid to say something else that might offend her. Her stomach gurgled, and she blushed, squirming while it protested loudly between stone strikes. 

The sounds of the night pressed on them, occasionally interrupted by the persistent gurgling of Lian's stomach. She drew her legs to her chest, hoping to squeeze it silent, but to no avail. It grew increasingly louder, setting her already raw nerves on edge. She hadn’t realized how famished she was; it had been nearly half a day since she had last eaten. It almost made her want to go back for some of the jerky the murdels had left behind. Almost. She remembered the stench of the meat and changed her mind. She wasn’t quite that desperate yet.

Heavy footsteps grew nearer
,
and when Lian turned her head, Rowan deposited the lifeless body of a rabbit at her side. Even in death, it looked innocent, and she felt sorry it had to die. 

Rowan looked away. “It was all I could find.” He folded his arms squarely across his chest. 

“It will do,” Merí said.

A small flame lit on one of the branches, and Merí immediately cupped her hands around it, blowing on it gently to encourage it to grow. A thin column of smoke rose from the increasing fire, burning Lian's nose with its sharp scent.

Merí rose to her feet and tucked the stones back into her hidden pocket.

Lian momentarily wondered what other secrets she kept hidden there, but then she remembered the blood across Merí's saber and the feral joy on her face as she slaughtered murdel after murdel. Lian gulped.

Merí looked up at her
,
and Lian took a sharp breath of smoke and gagged on it as she stared, blushing, at the ground. Merí chuckled. 

Lian watched as Merí put together a spit while Rowan skinned and gutted the rabbit. He handed it off to Merí, not looking at her as he did so, and she produced a thin strand of strange metallic rope from her vest to tie its shiny pink body above the roaring fire.

“Won’t that
rope burn
?” Lian asked.

“No,” replied Merí, “it’s… immune to fire.
Beside
s, even if it wasn’t, it wouldn’t be close enough to catch fire
. Haven’t you ever cooked by campfire before?”

Lian blushed and shook her head.

Merí gave her a tight smile. “No, I don’t suppose you have.”

None of them said any
more, though the air still crackled with the earlier tension. Lian watched Merí in growing fascination as she worked; no movement she made was awkward or ugly. She was smooth grace, almost as if every movement had been planned out before she did it.

Lian sighed, wishing she had that kind of poise and elegance.
My sister had
. The image of Ana in her golden gown, the last time she had ever seen her, flashed through her mind
,
and her eyes brimmed with tears. She furiously swatted at them, hoping no one would notice.

Merí folded herself upon the grass while Rowan stood and manned the rabbit, chancing steely looks at Merí. The aroma of roasting meat permeated the clearing, and Lian's mouth began watering as Rowan gingerly removed the rabbit and began cutting off equal slices of meat. As soon as he handed her a share, she eagerly bit into it.

It was exquisite, far fresher than anything she remembered eating at the fortress. She gulped it all down in a few mouthfuls, and though she was not full, her stomach quieted to a low, inaudible rumble. 

Rowan sat down next to Lian and chewed slowly on his portion, his eyes locked on Merí, who sat with her head tipped back gazing at the stars.

If she was aware of him watching he
r, she didn't acknowledge it.

Rowan cleared his throat. “Why were you following us?”

Merí blinked, her eyes fixated on the sky. Lian didn't think she was going to answer when she
finally
said, “I had intentions of following another, but the trail ran cold after the fire. You were my next best option.”

“Why did you kill all those people?” he hissed. “They were thugs, thieves, murderers, sure, but you’re no different from them.” 

“I did what had to be done!” Merí shouted. “When my informant grew suspicious and ordered me dead, I did what it took to survive. You would have done the same had you been in my position. I am also bound by my Oath. Leave none alive. It’s easier that way.”

Lian risked asking the one question she was afraid to hear the answer to. “Why haven’t you killed us? Everyone else seems to be expendable.”

***

A FAIR QUESTION
, THOUGHT
Vishka.
Why
didn’t
I kill
them?

You know why.

She looked at the girl’s aura once more. Something about it wasn’t quite right; she had sensed it the moment she had first laid eyes on her. It was a bright, warm green, but the lining kept shifting in and out. Blue to silver then back again. She had never seen anything like it. The crystal she wore
emitted the same type of energy, like it was tied to her soul. It was the only reason she hadn’t tried taking the crystal yet.

Keep the girl around. At least
until you know what she is. The boy, however…

Vishka wanted nothing more than to wring the life from the insubordinate whelp. And yet, she knew in doing so she would lose favor with the girl, for he had rescued her, and she might be of use later.

She eyed Rowan. Something stirred deep inside her, a feeling she had not felt in over o
ne thousa
nd years. Those eyes, that hair, and
e
ven the same discontented set to his mouth.
Could I bring myself to kill him when he looks so much like Draxonus?

“Your name isn't Merí.” Rowan said it without question, interrupting her thoughts. “What’s your real name?”

“
…
Vishka.”

Her brow furrowed.
What are you doing? You haven’t told anyone
your real name in ten centuries.
Why are you starting now?

“And I suppose that red-headed flop wasn’t actually your maid, either, right? What happened to her?”

Vishka shrugged. “What became of her is of no consequence to me. She served her purpose
.”

His jaw dropped
,
and he squinted. “Red,” he murmured. “I thought I kept seeing a pair of red eyes following us. It was you, wasn't it?”

Vishka nodded, taking another bite.
Why do I feel compelled to talk to these people, two mere flickers of life in my entire existence?

Lian's brow creased. “Red eyes?” She looked at Vishka, the firelight flickering off
her face. Her eyes widened.
“They
are
red, like the petals of a yeullis. I never noticed before.”
She
reached up and touched the skin below her eyes as she said it.

Vishka rubbed her chin, slowly smiling. “A yeullis…  I think it’s closer to the stain
of fresh blood.” Her smile widened
as she watched the girl’s sk
in break out into goose bumps. Amused, she
turned her meat back and forth, studying it. “They're only red at night,” she said. “My eyes are actually brown. The...
change
brought on some unusual side effects to my body.”

“
Change
?” Rowan prompted.  He glared at her, his arms flexing around his knees as his hand
instinctively
trailed to the empty spot at his hip where his sword would have been. “What are you exactly?” 

Vishka shrugged. “I'm still human, or at least I used to be. I'm not quite sure what I am anymore.”

Lian chewed on her lip
. “Where
did
you come from?”

“Stradvär.”

Rowan choked on his meat
,
and Lian gaped at her like she had lost her mind. Rowan, hiding a smirk, hammered on his chest and said, “Stradvär… was destroyed… over a thousand years ago,” he said between coughs. “Everyone… knows that. Unless… you've lived in a hut… or a cave all these years, which I wouldn't have a hard time believing.” He tried not to laugh, and Lian elbowed him hard in the ribs.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“Your rude mouth,
”
she snapped, glaring at him. She
turned to Vishka, whose body had gone eerily still.

Vishka
eyed Lian and Rowan with uncertainty.
I can’t trust them… and yet, I so very badly want to.

“You know,” Lian said, “y
ou look a bit like this painting I once saw in a book. It was part of a ballad about Stradvär
and how it was cursed by the g
ods.”

“It was all
my fault.”

Vishka’s voice was so quiet. It startled her; the words had slipped out before she could stop them. She was sure of it now, could feel the invisible pull like a rope tied around her heart.
It’s that crystal. It’s altering my moods, making me trust
them and relax around them
. It’s telling me to open up.

Neither Lian nor Rowan breathed or moved. The fire hissed and crackled as Vishka’s eyes grew distant. 

“I didn’t understand, still don’t understand, what was so wrong in loving him.”

Lian glanced at Rowan, who shrugged. They wait
ed. When Vishka didn’t continue and only stared
sadly into the fire, Rowan cleared his throat. “You think
you’re
the reason Stradvär fell?”

“I know I am. And for it, I am cursed. My soul might as well be damned.

“I am no longer what you would call human,” she said softly. “I am immortal, walking somewhere along the fringe of Light and Shadow, the Living Realm and Hesperides.”

“Hesperides,” Lian said. “You mean the Land of the Dead? Where all human souls supposedly go after we die?”

Vishka nodded.

Rowan snorted
,
and both Vishka and Lian shot him a hard look.

“That’s why you didn’t die earl
ier,” Lian said, “w
hen the murdel stabbed you. It’s because you cannot be killed.”

Vishka nodded once, never removing her eyes from Lian’s
. “Far as I know.”

Lian leaned forward. “Please tell me what’s happened to you. I want to know it all. I want to know everything.”

Vishka intently held her gaze before at last sighing. “It all fell apart the night before the Winter Solstice, t
hough our problems had started
long before then. In hindsight, I s
hould’ve read the signs better. M
aybe I could’ve done something to stop it…”

Her voice trailed off, tinged with regret. She blinked and cleared her throat. “As you’ve no doubt heard, Stradvär was a prosperous and mighty nation, the largest empire in the Western Realm. Its citizens were both wealthy and gifted with unique abilities; they could dra
w upon the very essence of the g
ods, some being able to predict the hour of one’s death while others could make a flower bloom before your very eyes.”