Soul Forge (Book One of the Soul Forge series)

Elda struggled with the thrall for hours. The whole time, Vel watched her with eyes as black as night. The strange heat in her chest subsided a little, but the fog didn’t lift and neither did the nausea. She wanted to sleep, but with the demon soul studying her every move it was impossible.

“You’ll never kick the thrall if you don’t sleep,” Vel pointed out. He’d spent the night leaning against the wall by a small window, not moving, not looking away from her.

“If you weren’t so damn creepy I might be able to sleep,” she scowled, her tongue heavier than lead.

“If you didn’t get your idiot ass bitten I wouldn’t be here,” he shot back.

“It wasn’t my ass that was bitten, dummy,” she mumbled blearily. “It was my neck. Shows who the real idiot is.”

“Still you.”

“I’m not an idiot.”

“Oh sure, Princess Moron of I-have-no-fucking-sense-land. You were asked to do one thing. All you had to do was not let anyone touch you. It took you less than five minutes to do the opposite.”

“You try dodging a flying bar stool.”

“How does dodging a bar stool end with you becoming a Vampire’s midnight snack?” Vel asked, finally pushing away from the wall and running a hand through his hair.

“If I annoy you so much why are you even here?” Elda asked, sitting up slowly to avoid making the room spin. She tried to scowl but her face muscles wouldn’t obey her. Her thoughts moved as though they were swimming through thick mud, taking a long time to form and even longer to come out of her mouth.

“Somebody has to babysit you.”

“Sypher could have helped me.”

“That fool couldn’t fight his way out of a flour sack. How the fuck can I expect him to control your compulsive stupidity?”

“Why would he be in a flour sack?” Elda frowned groggily.

“Spirits, give me fucking strength,” Vel muttered, pressing a hand to his face. “Move over.”

“What?”

“Move your ass over.” When she didn’t listen to him, he arched an eyebrow. “You really want to ignore me when I’m in a rotten mood?” She stuck her tongue out at him. “You asked for it.” Elda squeaked when he climbed in beside her, slotting himself into the thin space between her and the edge of the mattress.

“What are you doing?” His chest was pressed against her side.

“I told you to move over.”

“But the bed is warm on this side,” she complained.

“Fine,” Vel muttered, and she knew even without a discernible pupil that he was rolling his eyes. He shifted so he was above her and she froze, her heart thundering against her ribs. “Next time I tell you to do something I’d appreciate it if you’d listen to me.” He spoke through clenched teeth, but his lips were next to her ear and the low purr of his deep voice reignited the heat in her chest. “Now go to sleep.”

He moved away from her and took the cold side of the bed, but the furnace inside her didn’t abate. She tried to ignore it but the lingering thrall made it almost impossible. The demon soul sighed irritably and reached out to pull her against him, holding her the same way Sypher had after her premonition in Gira’s villa.

“You’re being nice,” she whispered, realising that he was actively trying to be less menacing. His scent of petrichor, vetiver and leather wrapped around her like a blanket, making her eyelids feel heavy.

“Less talking, more sleeping.”

“Last time you were out you pinned me against a wall by my throat,” she mumbled. “Now you’re cuddling me.”

“Are you complaining?” His breath tickled the back of her neck, her body beginning to relax.

“Nope, just observing.” A wide yawn struck her.

“Sleep, varro.” Her eyes slid closed when his arms tightened around her.

Elda’s head was pounding by the time she woke up in the morning, the light stabbing at her eyes. Her pillow was warm and solid, rising and falling in a steady rhythm. A heartbeat throbbed beneath her ear.

“Don’t you ever say I never do anything nice for you,” Vel grumbled when she lifted her head to look at him. Much like sypher the morning after her premonition, he had one had tucked behind his head and the other wrapped around her. She was that he’d stayed the whole night.

“You’re still here.”

“Show me your eyes so I can leave,” he instructed. Elda frowned, but let him study her pupils. “No more thrall means no more Vel. See you around, Princess Moron,” he winked.

“Wait!” But he was already gone. Sypher sat up and grabbed both of her arms gently, his eyes flaring bright when the garnet hue returned. His gaze fixed straight on her throat where Malphas had bitten her.

“Are you alright? What happened?” he demanded, his brow creasing into a concerned frown. ” I saw that Vampire feeding on you and Vel went insane. He’s never reacted like that before. I was locked out before I knew what was happening.”

“I’m alright,” she reassured him. “Vel killed Malphas and brought me inside to wait out the thrall.”

“Did he do anything to you?” She shook her head, understanding the meaning behind his question.

“He called me stupid a few times but he was respectful.” Sypher nodded, though his shoulders remained tense.

“I’m happy he didn’t overstep his boundaries with you. I’m concerned about the way he acted last night though. He said you make him weak, but wherever you’re concerned it’s almost impossible to push him back until he’s ready to go. In the hallway at Gira’s I had some sort of control until you showed up, but last night?” His frown deepened. “I was at his mercy from the start.”

“He won’t harm me.”

“That doesn’t stop him harming others. He killed the Vampire that bit you.”

“And you wouldn’t have done the same?” she asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

“I would have at least thought about it first,” he scowled.

“Maybe next time he comes out, I can get him to promise he won’t harm anyone,” Elda shrugged.

“Sure. And I’ll grow a second head.” He ran a hand through his ruffled hair, pushing it out of his burning eyes. “I’ve never been pushed back like that before, El.”

“So all this time he’s been strong enough to take over whenever? And right now he’s choosing to give you control?” Her brows crept upwards. Sypher nodded, deeply troubled by the revelation. “This doesn’t change anything. He can’t blot you out without risking both of you being enslaved permanently.”

“It changes things for me,” Sypher insisted. “It means my control is weaker than I realised. If he ever finds a way to slip Aeon’s chains, I’m gone.”

“I’ll do everything I can to stop that from happening,” Elda vowed, smiling at him. “I don’t want either of you to disappear or lose your free will. Trust me, Sypher.” She didn’t know how to stop Vel blotting out the Soul Forge she knew, but she was willing to try anything.

“Of course I trust you.” His shoulders finally relaxed, his hand rising to touch the unblemished skin where Malphas’ fangs had torn into her. “I was going out of my mind waiting for him to give me control back. I thought you were dead.”

“You really couldn’t see what was happening?”

“No. Much like Irileth’s home, I get sent to a place where I’m isolated. I can’t see or hear anything in this realm if Vel doesn’t want to share our mental space.”

“You said he speaks to you. How can he do that if he’s sent to the same place you are?”

“I’m not always strong enough to banish him from my mind when I don’t want to deal with him.” His eyes shifted to look down at the blanket. “I also hoped not completely shutting him out might soften his anger a bit.”

“It’s hard to soften an eight-century-long grudge.” Elda patted his knee. “He let you back out and that’s what matters most for now. We’ve got travelling to do.”

“You’re right.” Sypher swung his legs out of bed and stood. He tossed her pack to her and took his own into the washroom to change into fresh clothes, waiting until Elda was dressed in a white tunic and some brown leather trousers before emerging again.

“Do I still have to behave like I’m your property today?” she asked as they made their way downstairs.

Sypher frowned at the splintered door frame as they passed. “Only if someone makes advances,” he told her. “Just make sure you don’t leave my sight until we’re out of here.”

“Gladly. This place makes me uncomfortable.”

Their conversation ended when they stepped into the tavern area and saw the state of the room. Tables were tipped, stools were shattered, empty tankards were strewn around the place and someone was sleeping on one of the few tables still upright, a puddle of saliva forming beneath his open mouth. The Orc woman was already bustling about with a cloth over her shoulder and a stern look on her face.

“Errud, you filthy drunk! Get your pickled ass out of my inn!” She levelled a solid kick at the base of the stool Errud was slumped on, knocking it out from beneath him. He hit the ground with a heavy grunt.

“Did you have to do that?” he groaned, rubbing the back of his head mournfully.

“No more than you had to drink an entire keg and pass out at my table!” She whipped at him with her cloth. “Shoo, get out!” Errud scrambled to his feet and stumbled away, protecting his head with his arms as the Orc continued to swat at him.

“Good morning, Genevieve,” Sypher greeted when she’d sent one last kick towards the fleeing man’s rear.

“Well hello, handsome!” Genevieve replied with a wide grin, smoothing down her wild curls. “Can I interest you in one of my special pick-me-ups?” she asked, shooting him a wink.

“I’m married,” Sypher replied, arching an eyebrow and draping an arm around Elda.

“She can join in! She’s cute and I’m not fussy.”

“No, thank you,” Elda squeaked, her cheeks burning.

The Soul Forge chuckled. “We just came down to have something to eat before we travel.”

“Well, say no more!” Genevieve boomed, a bright smile splitting her cheeks. “I have the best breakfast menu in all of Valerus. What takes your fancy? Poached eggs? Bacon? Berry porridge? I can even make you pancakes.”

“What’s a pancake?” Elda frowned. Genevieve’s hand found her forehead as though she might faint.

“You mean to tell me you’ve never heard of a pancake?” she gasped. Elda shook her head. “Then let me amaze you with a whole stack of them. You two find yourselves a seat, anywhere except the one Errud drooled all over, and I’ll bring them right out as soon as they’re ready.” Before either of them could protest, the Orc disappeared through a door behind her bar with a cheerful whistle.

“Genevieve is a big personality,” Elda mused.

“She’s essentially in charge of this town,” Sypher agreed. “She runs the only inn, she’s one of the co-owners of the brothel and she has a prominent seat on the village council.”

“You seem to know a lot about this place.”

“I make my rounds through all the villages across Valerus whenever I have the chance. Varthal tends to stick in the mind after only one visit. I’ve been here many times before but I rarely stay overnight.”

“Why?”

“Bar fights. Drunkards. Women trying to get a hold of my imaginary riches by offering their services. The eroni demons in the soil. Take your pick.”

“You didn’t seem to have that much trouble with the demons last night,” Elda pointed out, following him to a table in the corner and sliding into the chair opposite him. He turned his own chair back onto its legs and sat down.

“They’re a shade smarter than the average demon, but relatively weak in small numbers. Once they realise the fight is lost they retreat as a group. The problem with them is that they reproduce like wildfire. Tonight, there’ll be almost as many as last night.”

“Why do they appear outside the village if they can burrow through the ground? They could easily come up through the soil behind the wall.”

“I paid a high price a very long time ago to have a protective barrier placed beneath the soil.”

“I thought you didn’t have money?”

“I tend to work in favours if I don’t have enough gold. The runes involved in creating the protection were ancient and powerful, the favour in question was reasonable, and the women that founded this town needed my help to purchase them.”

“My great-great-granny was one of those women,” Genevieve announced, already reappearing with a towering plate of food balanced aloft on one muscular arm. “She was forever telling stories of the rich soldier that saved the town.”

“I paid for a service,” Sypher shrugged. “I didn’t dig the soil to place the runes and I didn’t build the wall. I didn’t even use gold to buy the protection runes.”

“Aye, but you kept the worms at bay while other people did all that. My granny made sure to tell everyone who’d listen. She married the man you made the sword for, you know.”

“I hope Rasputen treated her well.”

“He spent years protecting Varthal with his special sword. Once he fell in love with my granny, he never wanted to leave. I still have it upstairs.”

“Then it more than paid for the runes.” Genevieve set the steaming stack of food in front of them and Elda’s eyes widened. She gently prodded one of the flat, fluffy disks with a finger.

“How did you make these so quickly?” she asked, looking up at the Orc with astonishment.

“I get a breakfast rush from the townsfolk when they finally overcome their hangovers. You get the first batch today. Enjoy!” Genevieve threw the cloth back over her shoulder and set about straightening up the tavern while Elda ate until she thought she was about to burst.

“I take it you like pancakes then?” Sypher asked, arching an eyebrow.

“I’ve never eaten anything like them,” she sighed happily, patting her swollen stomach. “I’ll miss them when I’m back home.”

“If we leave Cenet alive, I’ll make you pancakes.”

Elda sat up straighter, her cheeks lifting in a grin. “Then you’d better believe we’re getting out of Cenet in one piece,” she vowed.