Shattered Souls (Guardians of the Maiden Book 3)

Dyna forced herself not to look away from Tarn’s gaze piercing her through. His eyes may as well be orbs of ice, lacking any warmth. She let her gaze drift over the elegance of his fine black jacket, the lapels and cuffs embroidered with gilded detailing. The ensemble was completed with a form fitting vest over his tunic, with thin chains and gold buttons. Everything he wore spoke of wealth and nobility. As they analyzed each other in the silence, curiosity peaked through her unease, and she found herself wondering about this man. Was he truly a descendant of the Ice Phoenix? Why was he pursuing immortality? How did he become the most wanted man in Azure?

She tried not to squirm as his pale blue eyes flickered over her messy hair, to her torn clothing, briefly pausing over the scratches on her neck and chest, before falling to the geas. Dyna tugged her cloak around her to hide it.

He turned the glass vial in his fingers. “You know what this is?”

Not able to ignore her hunger, Dyna slathered a dollop of fruit compote on some bread with a dinner knife. “I’m an Herb Master. I studied the medicinal use of every plant in the region, including their witchcraft use. There aren’t many potions I wouldn’t recognize.”

“Good. Then you will tend to the captain of my spies.”

She frowned. “What?”

Tarn took a drink. “Your elf injured mine. Therefore, the task of tending him is yours.”

It was a test.

Thanks to his spies, this man knew everything there was to know about her, so he was already aware of her trade. He merely flaunted the potion to see how knowledgeable she was. Dyna took a bite of bread and chewed slowly. This could work in her favor.

“And if I refuse?”

Tarn answered with a heartless, cruel chuckle. The sound raised the hair on the back of her neck. “Well, should tending to the ill no longer be to your interest, we can move on to an interest of mine.”

She glanced at the journal. “Why not force me to open it?”

Standing, Tarn came around to sit on the edge of the table beside her and held out his palm expectantly. “All in due time.”

Dyna’s pulse sped as they stared at each other for a moment. Then she reached into her cloak and dropped the dinner knife in his hand.

“Have you ever killed before, Maiden?” Tarn asked, tapping a fingertip against the dull, rounded point.

“No.”

“You would have failed tremendously with a dinner knife.”

She leaned back in her seat and let her gaze drop to his throat. “I think with the proper motivation, it wouldn’t take much to puncture a vital artery.”NôvelDrama.Org holds this content.

The statement came out casual, but Dyna’s heart sped. She couldn’t let on how much he frightened her.

Tarn’s stare leveled on her face, and his mouth quirked as if she didn’t fool him at all. “In that, we agree. Do you plan to be difficult? You promised to come willingly.”

“And I came. Staying is another issue entirely.”

He hummed. “I don’t think you would like to know what I do to those who defy me. By all means, the choice is yours. But I’m curious. Von mentioned you’re from a hidden village somewhere among the Zafiro Mountains.”

She stiffened.

“It must have farmland, I take it. Land to cultivate, cattle for food and labor.”

She nodded slowly, not sure why he cared to know.

“Tell me, how do you tame a wild horse?” Tarn asked, his voice suddenly so deathly quiet. “They are willful. Stubborn to the ways they lived before. Eventually, they are broken in, and fitted with the bit and bridle.” Bracing his hand on the table, he leaned forward until their faces were inches apart. Her next breath lodged in her throat and frosted air filled her lungs. “You have a willfulness that you believe cannot be broken. It will be interesting to see how long it takes to tame you, little colt.”

She inhaled sharply through her nose, anger sparking in her chest.

He headed back for his seat. “Dismissed.”

She had expected him to make demands, to order her beaten or…defiled. Yet Tarn slid his tall frame into his chair, his attention already on a stack of parchments. At her stare, his glacial gaze swept back to her.

“That’s all?” she asked.

“Did you expect more?”

Her brow furrowed. “I don’t know, but I expected a great deal from the fearsome Tarn.”

“I have no need to make threats, Maiden,” he said. “By your education, you’re clearly intelligent. You understand the bangles will inhibit the use of magic. Any attempt to remove them and the outcome will result in unpleasant pain. Attempting to cross the veil will be far more excruciating than anything you ever experienced.” He rested his elbows on the table, steepling his fingers. “In the unlikely event you do manage to escape, I will hunt you down.”

How did he manage to express himself so eloquently yet intimidating at the same time? That statement sounded precisely like a threat. He wouldn’t send Von or his Raiders. Tarn would come himself. The edge in his gaze assured he truly would be hunting. Slipping through his talons was going to prove challenging.

She rose from the table. Tarn handed Von the journal and he took her arm to lead her to the exit.

“Von.” Tarn’s eyes locked on him. “No one is to touch her.”

He immediately let go.

“Be sure the men are aware.”

Von bowed. “Yes, Master.”

Dyna followed him outside, feeling as shocked as the Commander looked by the protection Tarn extended over her.

He cleared his throat. “This way.”

She trailed after him quietly, her steps lightly squelching in the mud. Raiders passing by saluted him in greeting. A few glanced at her, but one warning look from Von sent them on their way.

“All right, lass?” he asked.

“I…I had expected him to torture me,” she mumbled, still confused.

“Perhaps tomorrow, if he’s in a foul mood.”

“That’s him in a good mood?”

“Should the day come you’re the target of his displeasure, you will know.”

There was something in his tone that made her wonder if Von spoke from experience. She had a feeling he did.

They came to the northern edge of camp where another tent stood with the forest at its back. It was about the same size as Sorren’s. An electrical pull of power prickled on her skin, making Dyna gasp. The magic in the air was more potent here.

“This tent belongs to the mages,” Von told her.

The feeling became stronger as they neared and dread swarmed through her.

She shook her head. “I cannot be around mages.”

“I know about the customs of the Magos Empire, lass. They won’t harm you, on this I can swear.” They looked at each other for a long minute. Did he say this because of Tarn’s order?

The entrance flap parted, revealing the old mage who had attacked her friends outside the grove. Long, brown robes flowed to his bare feet. His dark gaze fell on Dyna, and the glower replaced itself with an intrigued smile. It sent a spike of nerves through her pulse. He stepped aside to let them enter.

Once she crossed the threshold, a prickle of static coursed from her scalp to her toes. The heady scent of damp soil and a sweet floral aroma infiltrated her senses. The soft ground was a plush carpeting of grass spotted with tiny white flowers and red toadstools. Vines had overtaken the walls and the roof. A line of several crystals of different colors and shapes hung like a banner overhead. Three cots lined neatly to the right of the entrance. Opposite of it was a large desk constructed of massive tree roots that had sprouted from the earth. Scrolls and stacked books of magic littered the surface.

“This is Benton,” Von introduced, motioning to the older mage. “And those are his sons, Clayton and Dalton.”

Two young men sat at a table in the far corner. Clayton had to be the eldest. He looked older than Dalton by a few years, perhaps in his twenties. Both shared the same dark brown hair and narrow features as their father.

Benton eyed Dyna down his thin nose. “Am I to believe you come from Azeran’s line? Pitiful thing, aren’t you?”

“My name is Dyna,” she replied shortly. Were all mages this rude?

He reached for her face, and Von had a knife at the mage’s bobbing throat faster than she blinked.

“Don’t touch her.” Von’s harsh voice carried the clear promise of spilled blood. His cool gaze flickered to the startled brothers who were frozen mid-rise from their seats. “The day any of you lay a hand on the Maiden will be the last day you draw breath.”

Dyna might have hated him a tiny bit less.

“I merely wanted to examine her features, Commander,” Benton said tersely and stepped back, his bangles jingling. “But yes, I see it. Unfortunately, you look like her. Helia of House Fuego. Disgusting. To mix the bloodlines like that is an atrocity.”

She glared at him.

“Pardon if you find that a slight. It’s merely a fact.”

“To be slighted, I would first need to value your judgment, old mage. And if you must know, I don’t.”

A snicker burst on the other side of the tent. Dalton quickly smothered it under a cough when Clayton elbowed him.

“I’m Grand Magus, born of House Slater, sovereign of the Earth Guild,” Benton said to Dyna, curling his lip. “I won’t tolerate such impudence from a girl, regardless of your ancestor.”

Dyna rolled her eyes. Still, the title of Grand Magus was of note. It marked him as chief position in the mage government that oversees all members within their guild.

“Here.” Von handed him the journal. “Keep trying to open it.”

“Hmm.” Benton carefully took it, caressing the embossed crescent sigil of House Astron on the worn black leather. “To hold his memoirs in my hands is a real honor, even if he was a traitor. Azeran was a very powerful mage and discovered several innovative ways to use magic.” He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “Is your family powerful?”

“I’m afraid not, Grand Magus,” Dyna said, humoring him. “My family passed away a few years ago.”

“I see. What of your ancestors?”

She knew where he was going with this. “Azeran’s descendants took humans for life-mates.”

Benton tossed the journal on the table and wiped his hands on his robe as if they were now filthy. “A sad waste to sully such a prominent bloodline. But how is it you can open his journals when I don’t have the power to do so?”

“Oh, she has magic, Father,” Dalton said, winking at her. “Geon said she healed his broken leg after the clash with the Guardians in Corron. I’ve seen the scar.”

From the corner of her sight, Dyna noticed Von stiffen.

Benton crossed his arms as he continued to scrutinize her. “Azeran was a renowned healer. By restoring the kitchen boy, does that mean you can perform Essence Healing as well?”

Dyna hesitated to answer, but it was the look of mocking on his face that made her nod.

The mages glanced up at the crystals on the roof but none reacted.

Benton’s mouth curved with a devious smile. “You’re a sorceress.”

“No,” she immediately denied out of both habit and apprehension. A white crystal glowed red and it casted a faint sheen over their faces. Dyna had always identified as human, but Lucenna told her she was a sorceress and this confirmed it.

The mages laughed as if the truth was a grand joke.

“I felt your power in Landcaster,” Dalton reminded her. “You are indeed a sorceress.”

“If you can perform such a complex spell, then you must be powerful,” Benton said. “I may give you to one of my sons to see what offspring you would produce.”

Dyna gaped at him. “I beg your pardon?”

Von growled a curse at him.

With a snap of Clayton’s glowing, yellow fingers, grass sprouted across the tabletop until it became a meadow of wildflowers. “For you.”

She rolled her eyes. Was this his attempt at courtship?

“Yes, my eldest is the best match,” Benton nodded proudly. “He’s talented in the arts of magic. My younger one is obviously inept.”

Dalton slammed a hand on the table and all that was green shriveled up and died.

Clayton retorted. “Don’t be a child, Dal.”

“Piss off, Clay.”

“Need I remind all of you of your places?” Von snarled at them. “The Maiden isn’t here for you. Make such suggestions again, and I will have your tongues removed.”

Benton’s eyes sparked red. Dyna bet if it wasn’t for the bangles, the mages wouldn’t be so obedient. “Then why is she here?”

“She’s an Herb Master. I brought her to treat the Captain.”

“Her?” The question dripped with skepticism. “What would she know?”

Dyna squared her shoulders. “Since I’m here, apparently more than you.”

Von’s mouth twitched. “Where’s Elon?”

The old mage waved his hand and the far tent wall parted, revealing a separate section with more cots. The elf laid in one. Dark, brown hair stuck to the sweat on Elon’s pale forehead. She glanced at his hand pressed over the bandage on his shoulder. The back of it had a perfect circular scar.

Two others kept him company. She recognized the man in a cavalier hat. Beside him was a girl with dark skin, her long black hair pulled back in braids. Beneath their cloaks, both wore black leathers and were strapped with weapons.

Dyna took a tentative step forward. “May I see?”

Elon’s amber eyes studied her for a moment, then he nodded. The others dutifully stepped back for her to approach.

“Not sure what you could do,” Benton said. “I already tried healing him. The spell won’t take. If anything, it causes him more pain.”

Dyna knelt by Elon’s side and carefully pulled back the bandages. He gritted his teeth, but otherwise didn’t make a sound. The cut was inflamed and beginning to puss, red veins sprouting from the wound site. It was a sign of magic clashing with the body’s ability to heal. “You cannot treat elf magic with mage magic.”

“We know that,” Clayton said. “He was hit with an arrow, not a spell. I think it’s poison, but none we have seen before.”

“May I see the arrow?” she asked.

Dalton brought it to her. She scraped off the dried blood from the arrowhead to reveal an upside down protection rune.

“I hadn’t thought to check that,” Benton said.

“I should have known.” The man in the cavalier hat scowled. “Their elf nearly killed Len with a similar arrow. It had pierced through her enchanted armor.”

It must’ve had the rune for dissipation, the one that broke spells. Like Rawn’s enchanted sword. Dyna did her best not to react to that tidbit of information.

“Do you have it?” she asked casually. “It may provide more insight on the damage inflicted.”

Von held her gaze. “It’s in the Master’s possession.”

Of course it was.

“This is a hindrance rune.” Dyna traced her thumb over the ridges. “The type that thwarts spells.”

Which might have been Rawn’s attempt to stop Elon from casting any more magic during the battle. She secretly sent her thanks. His arrows may be what she needed.

“Any attempt to use magic on the wound will make it worse,” Dyna said as she stood. “This will require a potion to counteract the magic. For that, I will need royalrod flowers. Also, yarrow to treat the pain and echinacea for the infection.”

“We have none of that here,” Benton said.

She turned to Von. “Then I will need to gather them in the woods, if I can find them in bloom.”

His brow furrowed. “They are most likely out of season now, lass. Winter is nearly upon us.”

He held out his hand for the arrow. Dyna reluctantly surrendered it and he tossed it back on the desk. Von and Tarn would be watching her carefully after getting caught with the dinner knife.

“Well, as long as I can find one flower, it will be no problem for the mages to magically grow more, correct?” She smiled at them brightly. “If they are as powerful as they say.”

Clayton smirked. “With a mere seed, I could grow you a bushel.”

Dalton rolled his eyes.

“Go and make sure she doesn’t inadvertently poison the elf with her concoctions.” Benton waved them away.

Dyna left the tent with the young mages eagerly accompanying her. Von followed behind.

“How did you know about the rune?” Dalton asked.

Dyna shrugged as if she hadn’t seen Rawn spend his mornings carving them. She was highly aware of the arrowhead left behind and the other one that must be stored somewhere in Tarn’s tent. Like a secret fortune meant only for her.

“A simple guess.”