A Soul For Chaos (The Soulbearer Trilogy) (34 page)

“Promise?”

“With all that I am.”

She took a deep breath. “Then I give you permission.”

The last time she’d willingly let Loku take control of her, she remembered little from her battle with Sulaino. This was different. She still felt the jaw-clenching shock of magic racing through her body. She noticed that her surroundings seemed to grow more distant, as though she were watching everything unfold on a stage. But unlike before, she was still aware of how Loku was using her body to channel his magic.

The altar shook beneath her, the tremors growing every second. A loud crack boomed through the room. Her body fell. Her arms and legs flailed as her bottom hit the crumbled stone, and the mithral chains jingled around her. She was free.

Loku lifted her up from the rubble, moving one leg in front of the other for her as they ran toward an open door.

The atmosphere of the room suddenly changed. The temperature dropped until her breath clouded out in front of her. The door slammed shut before they could reach it, and a blue shimmer around it marked the presence of a newly cast ward.

They were trapped.

Loku turned her around. When her mouth opened, it was Loku’s voice that came out of it. “Let us go, Nelos. You don’t know the consequences of what you intend to do. There’s a reason why they destroyed only my body and not my soul centuries ago.”

“It was because they were cowards.” The voice that answered was full of power and hate, and she cringed inside. It seems she wasn’t the only person who could channel a god.

The man from before stepped into the center of the circle, dressed in ceremonial silver robes and wearing a golden mask. His eyes glowed yellow like the sun. “It’s just me now, Loku. I will succeed where they failed.”

“Will you listen to yourself? You’re acting outside the Tribunal of the Gods. They’ll seek retribution against you for even trying this.”

“Not when they see how happy the world will be without chaos.”

“You’re full of it.” Loku strengthened the shield he’d cast around her. Magic rushed through her arms and sparked between her fingertips. “It’s time someone gave you the hard truth.”

The magic exploded from her and collided with Nelos. The man’s body flew back, smashing against one of the columns. Debris showered down on them, and dust filled the air.

Loku spun her around and tried to open the door. “The bastard cast a ward fit for the gods.”

“Can you break it?” she asked, finally understanding what it must be like for Loku, trapped in a body he had no control over.

“Yes, but it won’t be easy.”

A blast slammed into her back, breaking a rib and driving the air from her lungs. Black stars bloomed on the edge of her vision. Pain throbbed through her body, and blood filled her mouth.

A stream of soothing magic eased her pain, and Loku picked her body up from the rubble. “Leave my Soulbearer alone, Nelos. Your quarrel is with me.”

They turned around to where the priest of Nelos had retaken his position in the center of the circle. “She serves you and, therefore, is subject to my punishment.”

“As is your servant.” Loku unleashed another bolt of magic at him.

The priest shot up into the ceiling, his head cracking into the hard rock. Blood streamed down his face. The magic retreated, and the priest fell over a dozen feet to the ground. His bones snapped when he landed on the remains of the altar.

Even though Loku controlled her body, her stomach heaved from watching the beating the priest endured. “Surely, that would have killed him.”

Loku stood firm, his gaze locked on the priest’s body. “Nelos is controlling him, just like I am you,” he replied. “If he can heal him, he will.”

The priest’s body twitched, and his head rose from the rubble. Blood retreated up his face and back into the wounds on his scalp. Legs that were bent at unnatural angles straightened. The priest stood, his eyes glowing hotter than the sun.

Loku pulled his magic in front of her to cast the strongest shield possible. “Are you ready for the battle, my little Soulbearer?”

Her soul trembled, but she found the courage to say, “Yes.”

***

Kell followed Dev through the mirror. His skin crawled from the strange magic. It was like the sensation he experienced when passing through the portal Dev had created to Arden’s room magnified tenfold. When he came out on the other side, he rubbed his arms to wipe away the lingering traces of the spell.

“Where are we?” Dev asked.

“In the Tribunal Temple,” Empress Marist replied. The silver ring had vanished from her eyes, but her air of determination remained. “This way.”

The torches ahead flickered to life along the long grey stone corridor. Dev had described a place adorned like the palace, but this more closely resembled a mine shaft. The heavy blanket of magic coating the place reminded him that looks could be deceiving. He reached for his sword, and some of the heaviness lifted.

“Mage Primus,” the Empress said as she led them to Arden, “we’ll need to be prepared to disarm Nelos and his servant.”

The older elf shook his head. “There’s not much we can do other than distract him long enough to sneak the Soulbearer out.”

“You can contain him,” Dev said quietly, his face drawn. “What works against Loku might work against Nelos.”

“Until he finds another body,” Arano argued.

“By then, the other gods will have taken action against him.” The Empress continued her brisk pace as she spoke, not the least bit winded. “But our main priority is rescuing the Soulbearer.”

Finally, a plan he could fully support. He was the odd man out, the only human surrounded by magic wielding elves, but they all agreed that saving Arden was important.

The Empress’s uncle, Varrik, walked beside him in silence. His resemblance to Arden was so strong, Kell could only assume he was a relative of hers. Varrik fastened her necklace around his neck and tucked it into his shirt, his expression unreadable.

“Do you think their plan will work?” Kell asked him.

“If it doesn’t, I’ll personally destroy that priest.” The statement was delivered in such a cold, ruthless manner that Kell added another foot of distance between them.

The Empress held out her arm, halting them. A second later, the ground rumbled. Kell braced for the impending quake, looking to see who would be willing to help shield him with magic if needed.

A wave of earth rushed toward them, buckling the floor as it passed. Chunks of the ceiling rained down on them, and dust choked their lungs.

“Hurry,” the Empress shouted and waved them forward.

Kell ran with the group, struggling to keep his footing as the floor rose and fell with each step. A new tremor rocked the tunnel. He crashed against the wall and waited for it to pass before resuming his sprint.

Boulders lined the path, creating new obstacles for them to scramble around in order to get to Arden. Kell moved to the front of the pack, squeezing through a narrow gap between the wall and the rubble. He’d just cleared the space when another tremor assaulted them. Fissures ran along the ceiling growing deeper and wider, until it finally bowed under the weight of the earth below and collapsed. He dove forward and prayed to the Lady Moon for protection.

When the dust cleared, he’d only sustained a few bruises. But he was also the only one in the tunnel leading to Arden. A wall of rock separated him from the others.

“Dev, are you alive?” he called.

“Yes, we’re all here,” the knight answered. “Wait there—we’ll be through in a few minutes.”

Arden didn’t have a few minutes. If this was just the remnants of the magic being cast ahead, he could only imagine what she was up against. He rocked on his heels, uncertain if he should continue on or wait for backup.

A woman’s cry of pain ended his indecision. Arden was in trouble, and he refused to sit back and let that fiend kill her.

He drew his sword and ran ahead, climbing over rubble and dodging the rocks that still fell from above. His mind remained focused on the one thing that mattered—saving Arden. He kept going until he ran into a closed door.

When he tried to open it, it refused the budge. He stepped back and cursed. It was just like the times Arden had locked him out of a room. She referred to it as sealing the room with magic, and he didn’t possess the power to unlock it.

Or maybe he did. He looked down at the sword Foresco had crafted for him years ago. It could pierce through magical shields. Would a ward be any different?

He fit the blade into the space between the door and frame, running it along the border. A blue light shimmered and faded as he came to the top. Then the door creaked open.

Kell grinned. I’ll have to remember that next time one of them tries to lock me out of a room.

He crept into the next room, his muscles poised to spring the second he saw danger. A crash rattled the interior, followed by a man’s groan.

Kell peered around a broken column and found Arden standing in the center of a circle. Her eyes glowed with the same eerie green light he’d seen when Loku had taken control of her on the ship. Her dress was torn, and blood stained her pale skin. A look of defiance played across her face as she watched a man opposite her struggle to his feet.

“Give up, Nelos,” a deep, gravelly voice said from Arden’s mouth. “Your servant is dying for you, and you will only know failure.”

“Never,” the man hissed. A golden bolt of magic shot out from his fingers like lightning, colliding with Arden and sending her flying.

She smashed into a broken statue with a cry of pain. Her body collapsed in heap. A faint whimper told Kell she was still alive, even though she didn’t move.

Nelos laughed as he picked his way through the destruction toward her. He pulled a dagger out from his robes. Instead of shiny steel, the blade was coated with a dull purple substance. “You’re the one who will fail, Loku. You’re the one whose servant is dying.”

Another whimper rose from Arden, but she still didn’t move.

Kell’s throat tightened. This lunatic was out to kill her, but he’d be damned if he let that happen. He tightened his grip on the sword and charged.

Nelos turned around, his mouth hanging open, a second before Kell buried his sword into the man’s gut. He screamed. His face contorted in fury as he raised the dagger. “You fool!”

Blinding pain ripped through the right side of Kell’s chest. He looked down and saw the dagger sticking out of his doublet, buried to the hilt. His sword rattled to the floor. He stepped back, his vision fading. The last thing he remembered was seeing the agony on Arden’s face as his legs gave out from under him.

Chapter 31

Arden watched helplessly as Nelos plunged the dagger into Kell’s chest. She wanted to stop him. She wished with all her heart that she could undo his actions and keep Kell safe. But her broken body refused to obey her.

“Help him, Loku,” she pleaded.

“I’m doing all I can to keep you alive. Kell’s distracting Nelos long enough for me to heal you.”

“But he’ll die.”

“Then he’ll die saving you. It’s on the opposite side of his chest from his heart, so his soul won’t be destroyed.”

Loku’s dismissal of Kell awakened something deep inside her. Through the whole battle, she sat back and let Loku manage things. Her body would take a battering, and he would repair the damage quickly enough to cast another spell. As the two gods traded blows, her world became a blur of pain. She gave up trying to stay involved and fell deeper and deeper into her own little world, forgetting about the reality around her.

All that changed when she saw Kell running to her aid. Fear, followed by anger, raged inside her. It pushed her out of the pit of self-pity she’d fallen into. She fought to regain control of her arms and legs. The muscles twitched under her command, and she crawled toward Kell.

“What are you doing?” Loku asked, his voice higher than normal.

“Ending this once and for all.”

Kell stared past her, his normally bright hazel eyes glazed. His chest rattled with each labored breath.

She brushed the hair back from his forehead, tears blurring her vision. “I never meant for you to get hurt,” she whispered.

Then she pulled the dagger out with a sickening slurp. Patches of the purple serum still clung to the blade. Would it be enough to kill Nelos?

The priest groaned behind her, still doubled over to hold his guts inside his stomach. His body twitched and then grew still. A golden mist coiled out of his nostrils, reminding her of the green mist she’d seen when the last Soulbearer had been murdered in front of her. The mist grew larger, more solid, and took the shape of a man.

She tried to stand and back away, but her broken leg buckled.

“Be patient so I can heal you,” Loku scolded. “If Nelos is crazy enough to attack you in his own body, then I need you at full health. Once he solidifies, he won’t show us any mercy.”

“I have to stop this now.” She tested her good leg and limped toward the misty form of Nelos. She wanted vengeance. She wanted him to pay for all the heartache he’d caused her. And she wanted him to realize with his dying breath that he’d messed with the wrong woman.

“Arden, don’t do anything rash.” Loku frantically tried to seize control of her again, but she shoved him back into the far corner of her consciousness. “Remember what I told you about balance.”

She stared at the center of the god’s chest as the mist began to solidify. If she sank the dagger into his heart, she’d destroy his soul. She’d never have to worry about him again. But then, she’d be no better than him.

But there was an alternative. The gods had managed to destroy Loku’s body in the past when he threatened to disturb the balance of creation. Perhaps it was time Nelos experienced the same thing. “It’s over, Nelos. You’ve lost.”

She sliced the dagger across the god’s throat, cutting the still vaporous head off from the solidifying body.

His eyes bulged, and his mouth opened with a silent scream. The surface of his hardening skin cracked. Golden light bled from the fissures, and his body stiffened.