Shattered Souls (Guardians of the Maiden Book 3)

Dyna sat ramrod straight in the saddle, very aware of Tarn sitting behind her. His presence was like an ever-present chill. Yet while everything about him was cold, her back was warm. His body shielded her from the brisk wind and flurries swirling in the night. Her frosted breath clouded in the air by her face. Tarn had pulled the horse far enough ahead of the procession that it seemed they were the only ones moving through the still trees. She kept her eyes on the lantern floating through the dark forest. Tarn had commanded Benton to do it, and she wondered if it was for her benefit. She didn’t dare look at the shadows flickering in the corners of her sight. Her heart thudded behind her ribs.

She regretted returning Von’s crystal, but she had her opal knife again. Its reassuring weight was now strapped to her leg beneath her skirt. Moments ago, it had been tucked in the back of Von’s belt. If Tarn tried putting his hands on her again, she would stab him.

“I understand now,” he said behind her. “You’re not afraid of the dark. You’re afraid of what it holds. It’s more terrifying to think of what might be there than the dark itself.”

The shadows seemed to grow around her with the lure of his voice. Dyna balled her hands, forcing them not to tremble.

“The oldest emotion of mankind is fear. And the strongest kind is the fear of the unknown. At the moment, its smell seeps from your pores. I wonder what terrors you have met in the dark, Maiden.”

His frosted breath tickled her cheek and she caught his scent that reminded her of winter and spiced wine.

“And what is it that you fear?” she asked, ignoring his statement.

“Nothing. For I will never allow such things to control me.”

It was Dyna’s turn to smirk. “Did you forget I’m an Herb Master, Tarn? I know what Witch’s Brew is and how it works. It not only prevents sleep, it dampens your emotions. You’re not one without feeling, you simply repress them. Why? So you won’t feel guilty for all the lives you’ve taken?”

Only the clomp of hooves in the silence answered.

“You cannot hide from your humanity forever.”

His low laugh made the hair rise on the back of her neck. “You’re assuming I’m human.”

“Even monsters sleep,” Dyna shot back. Sooner or later he would have to stop taking that potion.

“Hmm. You’re far less intelligent than I thought. A person in my position cannot afford tedious things such as sleep.”

Because it put him in a vulnerable position to have his throat slit. Of course, he would have that concern when the freedom of his men was dependent upon his death.

“And I thought you weren’t frightened of anything.”

“Don’t confuse precaution for fear,” he said. “Take it as a lesson, Maiden. Self-preservation should be your only priority, for regardless of who it is, even those closest to you can betray you.”

It sounded as though he spoke from experience. But it reminded her of the mages and the delicate alliance they formed.

“The Raiders follow you out of fear for their lives and the life-debts you forced on them. True loyalty is earned by trust, kindness, and mercy. Which you have proven to have none.” Dyna was shocked she dared to say such a thing to him. She braced for Tarn’s anger, but he only made a contemplative sound in the back of his throat.

“There are a few things I have interest in, and the opinion of what others think of me isn’t one of them. I’m not a good man, Maiden. It’s pointless to pretend otherwise. However you live your life, you’ll always be the villain in someone else’s story.”

Was she the villain in his story? He had a goal, whatever it was, and she was an obstruction in the way of it, as he was in the way of hers.

“Most sail through life looking through a dirty spyglass at a perfect horizon,” Tarn said. “While neglecting to notice the beasts lurking beneath the sea of iniquity. What they don’t realize is that they were born with claws and fangs and a bloodthirsty instinct that’s been quelled by the need to be virtuous for others. And it kills them. You’re given only one life. To live is to see that you yourself are a beast.”

It wasn’t merely about being self-serving, but about survival. Tarn was willing to do whatever was required to get what he wanted. His hands were red with blood, and it didn’t bother him in the least because he accepted his darkness. It was a part of everyone, and Dyna couldn’t deny it was in her as well.

“You’re incorrigible,” she said.

“In the end, all that matters is that my men fall in line. They have seen what happens if they don’t.”

She smirked. “You want them to fear you. Am I to fear you, too?”

“It would be wise if you did. To see me as the evil you would paint me as.” His breath coasted over her head, making her scalp tingle. He jerked the reins to lead his horse around a tree and the force thrust her backwards into his firm chest. “I don’t need their trust. Only their obedience. And I expect yours.”

She quickly straightened up. “You expect too much. If you want the map, then set me free.”

“How curious that you should bargain with me for something that is already mine. When I give my word, I keep it. I expect others to do the same.”

Dyna made a face at him over her shoulder. “Are you judging my honor?”

His cool eyes narrowed. “Perhaps I should have Benton retrieve Mount Ida’s location from you.”

Her smirk dropped. She was acutely aware how easily the old mage could do it, now that Dalton had told her about cognition magic.

“You have one day to decide.”

He was still giving her a choice? It was more than she anticipated from him. Yet her anxiety grew with knowing they would reach the port tomorrow.

“Whatever you have in mind for me, it won’t happen,” she said. “I will never give in to you.”

“Sweet little scarlet flower.” He leaned in dangerously close and his voice dropped low, each word a provocative promise. “You have no idea what I have in mind for you.”

Dyna held perfectly still, ignoring the prickle of goosebumps he had sprouted on her arms. What was he planning to do with her? She thought all he wanted was the map. Was there something more? The question sent cascades of shivers across her chilled skin.

The rest of the night went by in silence. Exhaustion settled over her, but Dyna was determined not to sleep. Her dry eyes felt like they had been rubbed with cotton. She had to shake herself awake several times. It was an hour before dawn when they finally left the forest and entered another clearing. Raiders spread out to stake a spot in their new camping grounds. Tarn dismounted and she yelped when he plucked her off the saddle like she weighed nothing, and her legs wobbled as soon as her feet landed on the ground.

After hours riding a horse, she was achy and numb. Dyna took a step, and her foot slid through a patch of moss. She should have gone sprawling in front of everyone, but Tarn’s hand shot out and snatched the front of her cloak. He was completely composed, as if catching her was purely reflex instead of intention. Tarn waited for her to get her bearings before letting go.

She brushed herself off. “I didn’t think you were capable of chivalry.”

Startling anger sharpened his features. The breath caught in Dyna’s lungs at the chill emanating from his stare. Something about the word had infuriated him. His soul-numbing eyes released her from their hold when he faced the Raiders.

“Place the veil.” Tarn’s command rang out like steel, hard and effortlessly powerful.

Benton and his sons gathered in the center of the field and held hands in a circle. Their silhouettes glowed brightly with the color of their Essence. Red, orange, and yellow. It bled from them and swirled in the center of the circle, then shot up into the sky. The colors blended into a silvery white as it reached the peak and spread outward like a massive, translucent dome about half a mile in size, curving as it came down. As soon as it touched the ground, her cell would once again be in place.

Dyna’s legs tensed at the urge to dash for the strip of freedom that was quickly dwindling. But Tarn gave her a look that warned her not to attempt it. The opportunity to run vanished when the veil reached the ground and sealed them inside. Its power rippled through the air like hummed static. Everything outside of the veil was blurred and dull in color, displaying they were in a separate realm now. Panic fluttered in her heart. She had to remind herself this was part of the plan.

They were almost there now.

“Good girl,” Tarn said.

Dyna tiredly glared at him.

Von and Olsson barked orders at the Raiders to set up camp and dig the latrines. The spies slipped into the shadows to take perimeter watch. Tarn reached into his coat and flung out a dash of gold pixie dust. From it appeared his tent in tiny form before it floated away, expanding as it went, and settled on the north end of the camp. She should have known that was how he moved it when he was so reliant on magic. Lucenna did the same with hers.

Dyna gaped at him in disbelief when she came to a realization. “D-did you shrink me inside every night while I slept? I’m not a fairy. You could have killed me!”

He tucked his hands in his coat and strode toward his tent. “It’s magic. Don’t question it.”

She picked up a stone off the floor with every intention to throw it at his head. The man had kept her in his pocket like some trinket!

But then she noticed Von watching halfway across the camp. He crossed his arms and frowned at her hand pointedly. Dyna grumbled, letting the stone drop by her feet and followed after Tarn.

“Master, we should discuss the mission before I go,” Von called as he approached.

Sighing loudly, Dyna blinked wearily beside Tarn as they waited. Her thighs were sore and she could hardly stand. She wanted to lie down.

Tarn’s pale eyes slid to her. “Go rest. I imagine your frail body needs sleep.”

Dyna glowered at him but didn’t protest. She dragged her feet to the waiting black tent, and the dancing lights of the amethyst crystal greeted her at the entrance. As soon as the tent flap settled in place behind her, Dyna grinned. He bought her act and didn’t think twice about letting her come in on her own. Who knew the habit of sharing his tent would give her an advantage after all?

Dyna sprang into action. There was perhaps a minute before Tarn returned. Barely any time to search for the keys—and something else that she needed for herself.

She ran down the length of his table, glancing at the mess of missives, scrolls and books. One book was open to a page that made her halt. She stared down at a detailed illustration that seemed so real one could touch it.

The Lūna Medallion.

Dyna slumped in the chair by the brazier for warmth as she waited. Her head lolled against the headrest to paint herself the exhausted maiden, but it wasn’t difficult to do when she hadn’t slept for a day. Lazily, Dyna traced the path of the oak tree marking her arm. She wished Leoake had placed his geas in a more conspicuous place. Her heavy eyes drooped closed, and she might have dozed off for a bit.

The sound of staggering steps shuffling across the furred rugs and muffled curses immediately had her mind alert. She listened to Tarn ransack through his desk for a minute before daring to peer through her lashes. He yanked off his coat and revealed his tunic sticking to the sweat on his back. His heavy breaths labored as he tossed aside books and quills. He searched for something. Dyna tensed in her seat. If he discovered what she took…

But she relaxed when he drew out a nearly empty glass vial. The black contents whirled as Tarn quickly dumped every drop he could into a goblet. He grabbed a decanter of wine next.

Dyna kept still, pretending to sleep as Tarn gulped the enchanted wine to the dregs. Are you aware of what that does to you? She wanted to ask. Of the toll it takes?

From his condition, he’d been using Witch’s Brew longer than he should have. After a while, the body grew tolerant as well as addicted. He was drinking it every few hours now simply to stay awake, but no matter how strong the magic, no one could go forever without sleep.

Tarn tore off his soiled tunic, halting her next breath. It wasn’t his partial nakedness that shocked her. Not even the rigid muscles of his tall frame. Many, horrifying scars covered his body, as if some creature had chewed him up and spat him out. He cursed under his breath again and rummaged in a chest of clothing. The firelight from the brazier gave her a full view of the deep mutilations that lacerated his back. Not only made by teeth … but with a whip.

Thick scars crisscrossed down the length of his spine. They were long healed, at least externally, yet they were more terrible than all the rest. That sort of thing left a mark on more than the body, and it had a way of resurfacing again and again.

She would know.

“You don’t drink Witch’s Brew to avoid assassination,” Dyna whispered. Tarn stiffened, and his cold, pale blue eyes met hers over his shoulder. The tent chilled at the warning in his gaze not to speak aloud what she’d discovered, but the words fell from her lips, anyway. “You’re afraid to dream.”

Tarn’s face grew eerily still as he stared at her in silence. She expected him to deny it, but he didn’t. Perhaps because she caught him by surprise, or because he knew she could see the truth. Perhaps he was contemplating killing her for unearthing this secret he couldn’t expose.

Tarn slipped on a clean tunic and faced her with the front still left undone. The mauled scars creasing through his hard chest and abdomen were glaring in the firelight. It cast shadows against his face, turning his cheekbones as sharp as two knife edges.

This was perhaps the most valuable discovery she had unearthed about this man. A hint of humanity. Magically hidden away. It astonished her that he had such a personal vulnerability. Even though Dyna’s heart raced under his icy stare, she wanted to know more.

“What has the world stolen from you, Tarn?”

His jaw flexed. The burning wood popped and embers swirled into the air between them.

“What secrets and fears lie hidden in your mind that you cannot bear to remember them? It must be dire enough to bury them with potions. I wonder what you would see, if you were made to dream.”

“Careful,” Tarn said, lethally quiet. “Don’t toy with me unless you’re prepared for the consequences.”

His voice was controlled, but it was easy to hear the anger beneath the surface.

Dyna hid her nerves behind an air of indifference. “What consequences might those be? You won’t allow me any harm. The men know—”

The mood rune blazed at his back, outlining his silhouette in a menacing red hue. Her breath clouded in the tent as the temperature dropped with a chilling power. The depth of his gaze frosted over, and beneath the ice lurked something dark and dangerous—and God of Urn help her if it ever fully surfaced.

“They may not touch you, but I will do with you as I please,” he said, and she had the phantom sensation of his fingers grasping her neck.

She swallowed. “All I mean is that I can help you.”

Tarn braced his hands on the armrests of her chair, pinning her in place with his piercing gaze. “Let me make one thing abundantly clear, Maiden. I’m not a tortured soul in need of saving. And I’m not known for mercy. Expect none from me.”

The firelight dimmed, darkening the tent. Dyna shivered at the sudden cold pressing against her. The sound of faint crackling drew her to glance down. Frost coated the armrest beneath his hands. It crawled over the wood with layers of ice, taking over the chair.

Tarn wielded magic.

Why had she not noticed before? The air had always chilled in his presence. Until now she hadn’t realized that it wasn’t because he unnerved her, but because he affected the temperature. He was a descendant of the Ice Phoenix, after all. But how far did his power extend? No one had mentioned it to her, not even Yavi. Possibly no one knew. It would be like Tarn to keep such secrets.

Right before the ice touched her, it halted and melted away. Tarn stood back. The fire flared to life and the tent warmed once more.

“What was that?” she asked faintly.

“A hint of the consequences should you rouse my ire.” Tarn went to the table and took his usual seat. As soon as he looked at the book left open, his jaw clenched. “You were snooping.”

Dyna sat up with a shrug. “I wasn’t the one who didn’t put away his things. Now I know why you were looking for Lucenna, or her medallion, rather.”

She came to stand beside him. “You want to open a portal to Mount Ida with the Moonstone. Well, she doesn’t have it. It’s on the island.”

He closed the heavy cover, letting the book slam shut. “I suspected as much.”

“So you have Von looking for this other Sacred Scroll.” She caught a page beneath her finger and rotated it toward her. “Will it tell you how to become immortal?”

The page nearly tore when he snatched it free. He put it away with the other gathered pages into a leather folder. “Among other things.”

“Like the full power of the Unending?” Dyna guessed. She couldn’t quite contain her amusement at seeing Tarn’s eyes narrow. Cool, smooth victory flowed through her like crisp water. There had to be more to it, but the little knowledge she gained was a win that brought her that much closer to learning his plans. “Jökull’s power is on that treacherous island, but you don’t know exactly where or how to get to it without that scroll.”

“Your map will serve as a start.” At his icy tone, her stomach dipped in warning. Better not push him any further.

Danger lurked in the shadows of the tent and it suddenly urged her to leave. No matter his sharp beauty and sliver of humanity, every instinct told her this man was a slayer.

“Perhaps.” She turned to go.

“Enjoy your last day of brashness, Maiden. Tomorrow, you will give me what I want.” His promise sank a chill down her spine.

Unfortunately for him, she didn’t plan to be here tomorrow.