Shattered Souls (Guardians of the Maiden Book 3)

The scent of flowers and wet earth drifted to Dyna’s nose as she used a stone to crush purple petals, roots, and other herbs in a bowl. The wind eerily wailed outside of the hollowed out redwood tree she had found. Its round walls curved to leave a narrow opening, and the top coned to a point like nature’s version of a tent. It was big enough to comfortably fit them both.

Tarn was still unconscious. He lay awkwardly slumped against the inner back wall. She’d stuffed his coat under his back to keep his heart elevated. Her magic had stopped the venom from reaching his heart and repaired his lungs, but the wound still needed treatment. His body had to do the rest.

Sweat beaded on his flushed face and bare chest. She had cut off his tunic and removed his shoes in case his limbs swelled. Each breath was shallow and rapid, pulling against his ribs. Dyna touched his forehead and her palm burned with his high fever.

She didn’t think the man was capable of being anything but cold.

Dyna gathered the poultice in her gloved hand and applied it to the wound on his arm, then bandaged it. She’d been prepared with those this time. After tearing up his tunic, she soaked it in water and folded it on his forehead.

If he made it through the night, he should live.

The trees rattled outside, and flurries blew past the dark entrance. The moonlight hardly reached this part of the forest, forming strange shadows that seemed to move. No, nothing was out there.

Dyna shut her eyes and forced herself to take a breath. It cannot hurt me. It cannot reach me. I am not alone.

She huddled closer to Tarn. His presence helped, even if he was a step away from death. She kept her eyes on the flame flickering in the center of the hollowed tree. She’d managed to coax a small campfire with some flint and steel. It wasn’t enough to drive away the dark, or to keep her fully warm when frigid wind slipped in through the entrance. She threw a blanket over Tarn and wrapped her cloak tightly around her shoulders.

No one had come looking for them yet. Maybe no one would. She had felt the seed of guilt planted itself when the knights rode into camp, and now it was growing into a weed with thorns. She couldn’t have known that would happen.

God of Urn, what about Yavi, Geon and Sorren? They were in the thick of it. Did they manage to escape? What if they got hurt? As soon as the royalrods were lit, Sorren was supposed to break out of his bangles and grab the others.

And Von? How did he react?

No one knew what he would do if he knew about their plans. Yavi didn’t want to risk it. So they decided not to tell him until it was time to run, and too late for him to alert Tarn. Dyna hoped he escaped with them.

If anyone survived the surprise assault, it was the spies. They certainly would come looking for their Master. It was best to be gone before they did.

Dyna glanced at Tarn. It was odd to see him finally sleeping. His body desperately needed it, and now he had no choice. She pressed two fingers to his wrist to measure his pulse. It was still too fast for her liking. Her gaze drifted to his scars and she couldn’t help staring. There were so many. Jagged and puckered, and years old by their pallid color. The worst ones were the bites. They marked his chest and arms where teeth had sunk through. Something had tried to eat him alive.

A shudder traveled down her spine. What happened to him?

Well, there wasn’t anything else to do now but wait. She took out some bread and cheese from her satchel to eat. The corner of Azeran’s journal poked out of the top, but when she took it out, it wasn’t her journal at all. It was a preliminary book on earth magic. Dyna could have sworn she’d seen the Astron sigil on the cover before tucking it away. How did she mistake it…?

Dalton.

Dyna groaned. He must have cast some sort of illusion to make her see the journal. Stupid cognitive magic. Her mental shields hadn’t worked against him. But why did they want to keep her journal? They couldn’t open it without her. And neither could Tarn.

That must be it. They didn’t want to risk him getting the map and becoming immortal, because then they would never be free.

Not much good this magic book would be. She wasn’t of the Earth Guild, or any guild for that matter. But it reminded her of what Dalton said about her lineage. Could she use sun magic, too? She’d unleashed green flames in the fjord. So perhaps…she could.

Dyna glanced at the small campfire and called on her Essence. It rushed through her veins, humming readily. Healing Tarn hadn’t completely drained her as it would have before. Maybe her barrier was starting to weaken. After being withheld for so long, her Essence pushed against the walls of her being, filling every crevice. And it wanted out.

She stared at the flames, concentrating on intent as Lucenna taught her. Its heated energy wove through her magic, and she whispered the Magos word for fire. “Ignis.”

The flames flared high.

Dyna yelped and jerked back from the heat. God of Urn. She did it.

But the amber beads on Tarn’s cuff lit up and the black clovers inside consumed her Essence from the air, leaving the fire to dwindle. She frowned. Right, he still had those. Their power prickled against her, as if hungry to ingest more of her magic.

Dyna carefully unbuckled his cuff, and took it outside. She chose to bury it deep within the roots of the tree where she could no longer feel the clovers, then covered it up with some leaves. There. No need to leave him with a weapon he could use against her.

Satisfied, she went back to the campfire and played with the flames. They rose and fell at the wave of her fingers, following every silent command. Soon, the inside of the tree was completely warm. She grinned to herself, giddy with excitement. This opened a whole new side of magic for her. There was so much more she could learn. But her smile faded at the reminder she wouldn’t be able to share it with Lucenna. Dyna hoped she was all right, wherever she was.

Sighing, she returned the useless earth magic book to her satchel, and it bumped up against the other one Dalton gave her. She took out the small leatherbound book. It was light in her hands, and shadows traced the stamped title, Cognitive Arts.

Now this magic she could use.

It may help her figure out how to remove whatever barrier contained her power. Dyna had studied enough magic books to pick up lessons quickly. She merely didn’t have enough Essence to practice what she’d learned—until now.

And she had someone to practice on. Her eyes slowly slid over to her patient again. What was hidden in that mind?

Dyna spent the next few hours reading by the firelight. Dalton said dream walking was the easiest, so she started there. From what the pages detailed, it required very little manipulation on her part. By opening up her mind, she could enter the dreams of whoever she touched with her Essence. That sounded fairly simple.

Tarn faintly moaned and his head jerked, making the compress slipped off his forehead. His breathing quickened as his eyelids fluttered back and forth rapidly. He must be having a nightmare. She glanced at his scars again. A rough one.

His features pinched and her curiosity grew. Dyna bit her lip, contemplating. Did she want to go rooting into Tarn’s mind? There was no telling what she would see, but doing so might reveal who he was and what he was truly after.

Her heart rate sped as she reached out, hesitating a few seconds, before lightly placing a hand on his arm. She closed her eyes and took a few low breaths to clear her mind. This was how the book said to do it. To breathe in and out and…

She sank.

The first thing to hit her was the smell.

The stench of rot and blood, then she felt the humid summer heat on her back. She was running. No. He was. She was experiencing everything as he saw it. Tarn’s ragged breathing sounded loud as they ran together.

His steps clanked heavily and a helmet obscured his vision. Trees whipped past them and others in dark blue armor ran ahead. Azure Knights?

The roar of beasts came from all around. Rampant fear wrenched through her body when a large shadow came bounding for them, shaking the earth. Tarn twisted with a cry, and slashed his sword through gray flesh. A bellow followed, but he ran before she could see what it was.

“Fight, men!” someone shouted in the distance. “Hold the line! Courage!”

The command was dulled beneath the screams of the dying and the horrifying roars. Tarn stumbled through the trees, holding his wounded side. His shaking, gloved hand pulled away wet.

“Help me!” someone begged. “HELP—” The scream abruptly cut off with what could only be death.

Dyna whimpered as the ground shook and snarls closed in. Branches snapped as gray forms loped through the trees around her. The cries of neighing horses followed. They galloped past them with their riders or with empty saddles.

Everyone was fleeing.

A young knight caught up to Tarn and smiled in relief. “Captain—”

Something hit him and his body collided with the ground in a wet crunch. Blood and sinew spurted from his dented helmet.

Dyna fell back on her hands and feet. She looked up in horror at the huge creature standing over her. It had thick limbs, body covered in gray armored skin. Bone spines protruded from his shoulders and elbows. Stringy fur lining its torso, shoulders, and wide jaws to its pointed ears. It carried a severed leg in its three-fingered clawed hand. The terrifying creature had only two holes for a nose above its bloodied mouth, and three completely black eyes.

A troll.

It focused on her. On Tarn. Her heart thundered in her chest, terror freezing her in place. Drool seeped through its sharp teeth. There was only one thing it wanted. To eat.

The troll lunged.

Dyna screamed and she was violently snatched from the dream. Her back slammed into the hollowed tree with Tarn’s arm pressed into her throat. His wild eyes didn’t see her. They were completely lost and petrified.

“Tarn!” she shrieked, pushing against his taut hold. “Let me go!”

He pressed harder, and she kicked wildly, desperate for air. But whatever strength he’d found quickly vanished, and Tarn slumped against her. Dyna pushed him off and he sprawled on the ground, his body heaving with uneven breaths. His pale eyes blinked weakly at their surroundings, then they found her.

“You…” Tarn croaked. “You shouldn’t have come back…”

“Then you’d be dead.” Dyna took the fallen blanket and put together a makeshift bed. She helped Tarn lay down on it and she inwardly shivered at the feel of his rough scars. He must have been mauled by those frightening beasts. Her heart was still pounding.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he snarled.

Dyna looked away. “I saw it,” she whispered. “Your dream. I saw what happened to you.”

Tarn’s breathing halted. She didn’t dare meet his gaze, though she felt his stare clinging to her like frost.

“I don’t want your consolation or your pity,” he finally said. In the next second, the cognitive magic book landed in the fire. “Stay out of where you’re not wanted.”

“No!” Dyna snatched the book and put out the flames. It was futile. Half of it was charred black, rendering the pages useless.

Tarn’s heavy panting resonated in the hollow tree as he searched through the pockets of his coat. “Where is it?”

“It’s gone.”

“What do you mean?” he growled, though the frail sound failed to hold any bite. “Give it to me.”

“Water first.” Dyna pushed a waterskin to his mouth and forced the contents down his throat.

Tarn coughed forcefully, shoving her hand away. “Give me the vial!”

He was furious and desperate. Anything not to fall back into that nightmare. But she couldn’t let him have it. His body needed rest to heal, and it was time he was weaned off the potion.

“I told you it’s gone,” she said. “You’ve had enough.”

“I’m contemplating killing you right now…” he said, each word slurring. Tarn reached for her but she easily pushed down his trembling hand. His eyes rolled and he slumped back on his bedding. “You…the water…”

“Dreamshade oil. Tastes rather awful, doesn’t it?” She stuffed his folded jacket under his head and dipped the compress in more water before placing it on his forehead.

He fought to stay awake but it was a losing battle. “I will punish you for this…”

“Sleep, Tarn. You can thank me tomorrow for saving your life.”