Soul Forge (Book One of the Soul Forge series)

It didn’t take long for a pair of black wings to carry a blood-splattered Soul Forge out of the hive. He landed right in front of Elda, frowning at her like he wasn’t sure why she was angry. She resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose at the grey gore coating his armour, breathing through her mouth to avoid the smell.

“You should be in bed,” he admonished. Her brows crept upwards in astonishment, the disgust forgotten.

“So should you!” she yelled back. “You can’t just take down a whole hive of demons alone, you idiot! You’re exhausted!” His head tilted, one eyebrow quirking upwards. “And you healed me without resting! Are you insane?”

“El.” He put a hand on her unbandaged shoulder, a smile quirking up the corners of his lips. “This is my job. I had to stop the rest of them from coming out to destroy what remains of the village.” She deflated under his calm reply.

“I...” She sighed, realising her anger was unfounded. “I know. I forget that you’re strong enough to do this sort of thing.”

His red eyes twinkled. “You were worried about me.”

“Of course I was worried!”

“So worried that you were prepared to march in there after me with no armour and a bow you can’t use.” Her cheeks coloured. Sypher chuckled and pulled her into a rare, gentle hug, careful not to hurt her. It was so surprising that she didn’t even complain about the demon blood all over him. “I’m glad you’re okay too.” He stepped back before she could return the embrace, rolling his shoulders and pulling in his wings with a groan.

“What happened last night?” she asked.

“You tell me,” he shrugged. “I found Syd standing over you while you bled out in the dirt. Your blade was buried in an Arachna skull six feet away.”

“I threw it.”

His brows inched upwards. “Nice throw.” He bent to pull her dagger out of his boot. “Here, I forgot to return it to you earlier.” She took it from him and reunited it with her bow, watching the stone glow and the metal reshape as though the blade never existed.

“I really killed it?”

“It looks that way.” His head tilted. “I’m fairly certain Julian told you to stay out of trouble though.”

“Syd had other ideas. People were trapped in a barn and after that she took me around the village helping people trapped by the Arachna. I was on my way back when one of them dragged me out of the saddle.”

“That creature is a law unto herself,” he muttered, looking over at the stables where Syd was nosing joyfully at a hay bale. “For a demon with no sense of good or evil, she certainly spent a lot of time helping people last night.”

“Maybe she’s learned a sense of good,” Elda suggested, shrugging her uninjured shoulder. “She’s spent a long time with Julian.”

“If it were possible for a demon to truly learn to be good, Vel wouldn’t be the way he is.”

“Maybe he has to learn from somebody he likes.”

“Or maybe he’s a stubborn asshole,” Sypher muttered. Elda resisted the urge to roll her eyes and hooked her good arm through his, tugging him away from the gaping hole in the ground.

“Help me get back to the inn. I marched here in a huff and now I can’t remember my way back,” she pleaded, hoping to change the subject.

“Moron,” he chuckled. “Hold on a second.” She watched him crouch and press his gloved hand to the earth, closing his eyes to concentrate. A rumble vibrated through the soil and suddenly new, damp earth was pushing up from the ground where the hive once existed, filling up the cavernous tunnels the Arachna had carved under the village. “There.” He stood up and brushed his hands together, knocking soil from his glove. “Now we can go.”

“Do you have any idea how powerful a normal elemental has to be to do what you just did?” Elda gawked, her eyes fixed on the mound of earth until he guided her far enough through the village that she couldn’t see it anymore.

“Do you have any idea how different to a normal elemental I am? My magic is bolstered by the fact that I’m the Soul Forge. A job as shitty as mine has to have some perks.”

“You said magic hurts you though.”

“Umbramancy does,” he nodded, “because it isn’t technically mine. Vel and I can utilise each other’s magic. I give mine willingly, he doesn’t. Taking it from him is painful if I have to use a lot.”

“Has he ever volunteered his help?”

“Once or twice.” His brow furrowed and Elda realised those times were probably when both of them were desperate. She didn’t push it any further. When they reached the inn Julian was seated at one of the tables, his face and hands smudged with mud, soot and blood. Elda frowned.

“Where you that dirty earlier?”

“Oh, are we friends again?” the Vampire asked, folding his arms across his chest indignantly. “Last time we spoke you threatened to snap my hand off.”

“I was mad,” she answered sheepishly, shrugging her unbandaged shoulder.

“Tell me about it. The only other person that ever looks at me like they want to stab me is Sypher. I had no idea you could be so terrifying.”

“She has a good teacher,” the Soul Forge said, grinning brightly.

“Hmm.” Julian scowled at both of them. “Stop making her scary. I like her sweet.”

“Sweet won’t keep her alive.”

“Neither will running after your stupid ass,” the Vampire stated.

“I had the hive handled. I can kill Arachna in my sleep.” Sypher slid into the chair opposite his friend and rested his elbows on the table. “Both of you panic too much.”

“I was worried Vel might break out and kill someone else,” Elda admitted.

“He didn’t even try.”

“Why not?”

“No idea,” Sypher shrugged. “I stopped trying to understand him when I realised he was an unpredictable jerk.”

“About five minutes after you met him, then?” Julian quipped.

Sypher’s lips lifted at the corners. “Something like that.”

Elda watched him slip off his glove and take her hand carefully, his magic sweeping through her like a cool caress against her skin. Her eyes closed when the stinging pain from her ruined shoulder rescinded, muscle and sinew knitting back together until she felt as good as new.

The wounds reflected themselves on Sypher, though only the torn flesh at the junction between his neck and shoulder was visible with his armour on. His brow furrowed faintly at the new pain, but he unwound the bandages up to her shoulder with both hands, sliding her tunic sleeve back and nodding when he saw unmarked skin.

“You didn’t have to heal me all at once,” she tutted.

“Yes I did. Had I known it hurt you this much, I would’ve healed you the moment I stepped out of the hive. It’s no wonder you passed out in the mud.”

“Not before you nailed that ugly bastard in the head though,” Julian grinned, clapping her lightly on the back. “That was one sucker of a throw!”

“I didn’t know what else to do,” she shrugged, fighting a pleased smile.

“Reminds me of Sypher in his heyday!”

“You make me sound like an old man,” the Soul Forge muttered, flexing his newly wounded arm slowly. The skin at his throat was beginning to knit back together and not a single drop of blood had leaked from the tear.

“You are old.”

“I prefer timeless. I don’t look eight hundred.”

“No, but you act it,” Julian snickered. The soldier arched an eyebrow at him, obviously unimpressed by his antics. A second later, Julian’s chair tipped backwards on its own and the Vampire landed on his back. Elda blinked.

“Never sees it coming,” Sypher grinned, winking at her. She stifled a giggle, watching Julian clamber back to his feet with a scowl. “As fun as this is, I should get some rest before we set off for the next leg. Cenet has a drier climate than what we’ve flown through so far. It should be easier on Syd and I once we’ve rested, but we should all be prepared for colder winds.”

“I need some new leathers then. These rags barely keep the rain out anymore,” the Vampire mused, tugging at his cracked jacket.

“Will you help Elda find something warmer too?” Sypher requested. “No need to prepare for ice, but certainly something thicker than the summer tunics she’s been wearing.”

“Can do.”

Sypher shot her a look. “Don’t let him talk you into buying anything you’re uncomfortable with. If he can get you into tight leathers, he will,” he warned.

“You know me too well,” Julian winked.

“If Elda comes back here in anything she doesn’t like, I’m going to kick you in the dick.” Elda watched him stand and head back upstairs.

“He’s so overprotective,” the Vampire chuckled.

“It’s his job to protect me,” she pointed out.

“Not like that. When you get inconvenienced he contemplates murder.”

“You’d better tread carefully then,” Elda replied sweetly. Julian grinned in approval. “Is there anywhere left in this village to buy clothes?”

“There is. The armourer survived, as did the blacksmith and the seamstress. The farmers on the far side of the village lost a few storage sheds and a couple of carts. A few homes were destroyed and the hall is full of soot, but it could’ve been much worse.”

“The hall?”

Julian’s head tilted. “The building you put everyone in while we were fighting.”

“Oh. I thought it was a barn.”

“The fact that it’s still relatively unscathed is the important part. Come on, let’s find you something to wear now you’re all patched up.”

Elda allowed herself to be led away from the inn and into the streets. They were teeming with village life despite the vicious attack the night before, people already working in organised groups to clear debris and move the belongings of displaced families into other unharmed homes until theirs could be rebuilt.

A pang of guilt settled in her stomach when two men dragged a cart with five bodies in the back. Five people that couldn’t be saved, despite their best efforts. It left a bitter taste in her mouth. She averted her eyes quickly, not wanting their faces to feature in her nightmares.

“You can’t save everyone,” Julian said gently when he saw her swallow, taking her arm and encouraging her to keep walking. “There are plenty of living people left who still need us.” She nodded and followed him further into the village, closer to the river and away from the chaos left by the Arachna.

“Here we are,” the Vampire beamed when they found the right buildings. “The seamstress should have tunics and trousers. The armourer will have boots and battle wear. Take your pick.”

“I have no money with me.”

“My treat. Get whatever you want.” Elda’s brows crept up, a smile quirking up the corners of her mouth as she began to browse the wares on offer, her eyes trailing over chest plates and armoured boots, lingering on gauntlets and pauldrons until she was grinning broadly.

A flash of red caught her eye. The armourer saw her looking and pulled it down from the rack it was hanging on, revealing a cuirass of deep brown leather with a wide, rich crimson belt across the middle. It was tempered to be stronger than the cuirass she already owned, and beside it were a pair of matching sturdy boots and some gauntlets with red fingerless gloves sewn into them.

“We’ll take these and some pauldrons to match,” Julian announced when he saw her smile, slapping a coin bag down on the desk with a heavy rattle. “Name your price.”

“Fifty pieces for the cuirass. Twenty for the gauntlets. Forty for the boots,” the Fae woman said matter-of-factly, brushing slivers of leather and cotton from her worn apron.

“Make it one hundred even and you have a deal.” She nodded and shook his hand, waiting for him to count out the gold. By the time they were done shopping, Elda had a full set of armour and Julian was happily smoothing down the lapels of his new tan jacket.

“Thank you. That was an expensive purchase,” she noted.

“Think nothing of it,” Julian shrugged, waving away her thanks. “I have gold stored up and you need proper armour if you’re going to be fighting more demons.” He grinned impishly. “Also Sypher loves red.”