Bind the Soul (23 page)

“Me?”

“Use the Sahar. Do
something
.”

Her throat tried to close. She swallowed hard and nodded.

Seiya followed a step behind as Piper walked stiffly toward the foot of the bridge. She stopped at its edge, staring across the chasm at Samael. His horse-thing—it was not entirely equestrian—slammed one hoof repeatedly on the stone road. The sound echoed through the valley in the sudden, deadly silence. Hundreds of daemons waited behind Samael. So many. Too many.

She pulled in the deepest breath she could.

“Samael,” she shouted across the canyon. She raised her hand, the Sahar clenched in her fist, its light glowing right through her fingers. “You want the Stone? Come and get it!”

He didn’t move. After a moment, he made a short gesture. The soldiers behind him surged forward.

“No,” Seiya gasped.

Piper closed her eyes. Inside her head, violence erupted, squeezing the rest of her—her true self—into a smaller and smaller corner. She lifted her hand higher over her head. Hate burned through her—hatred for Samael, for all of Hades, for the violent cruelty of the Underworld. Hatred for everything. For all of them.

Die.
The word hissed through her mind on a wave of ruthless malevolence.
Die, all of you.

Her eyes opened. The charging soldiers were nearly a third of the way across. Her hand clenched. Heat burned her palm. The poisonous loathing boiled up, filling her, overwhelming her until it burst from her throat in a rage-filled scream.

She flung her fist downward.

The Sahar erupted with power that slammed through her body like lightning.

The bridge shattered.

Thousands of pounds of stone blew apart like a kicked sandcastle. Debris shot in every direction as the entire massive bridge plummeted into the chasm. The earth trembled. Fissures split the canyon walls. The sound was impossible and earsplitting, like a million guns going off at once. The daemons on the bridge disappeared among the cascading rubble.

Piper slowly raised her hand again. Hatred pounded inside her, pumping through her like poisoned blood, eclipsing all else. She found Samael amidst the rolling clouds of dust. She wanted him dead. Craved his blood. Needed to see it spill, splatter, soak into the uncaring earth.

Power surged from the Sahar. Rapture stole her breath as the magic rushed through her.

A face appeared in front of her, blocking her view of Samael. Seiya’s eyes were wide and frightened, her face white. Loathing pierced Piper. The desire for immediate violence burned away all else.

Seiya’s hand connected hard with Piper’s face.

Pain exploded through her cheek. She staggered, shocked. Seiya grabbed Piper’s wrist and wrenched at the chain around it. It snapped and the Sahar was torn from her grasp. Like a balloon popping, the murderous hatred vanished. Her knees gave out. Seiya caught her by the waist, holding her up as they staggered away from the cliff’s edge.

“Are you—well?” Seiya asked shakily.

Piper nodded weakly, still reeling. She hadn’t realized how bad the strange double presence in her mind had been until it was gone.

“Your eyes . . . turned black,” Seiya whispered.

Her stomach swooped. “Thanks for stopping me,” she said, voice trembling.

Seiya nodded and held out the Sahar. It swung innocently from its broken chain, no longer glowing. Piper stared at it warily, then reached out and carefully touched it. It felt cool and mundane. She pulled it from Seiya’s hand and stared at it. What had it done to her?

Falling back on her old standby, she tucked the Stone down her bra. Then, still afraid to look at the damage she’d done, she lifted the wrist where Lilith’s pendant hung. It glinted brightly in the moonlight.

“What’s that?” Seiya asked.

Piper stared at it, an idea forming. “A decoy,” she murmured.

Gritting her teeth, she gave it a hard yank. Its chain snapped. She turned and strode back to the cliff’s edge.

“Samael,” she shouted. “Samael, are you listening?”

The clouds of dust shifted, offering her a glimpse of the white horse-thing and Samael’s pale hair. A soft breeze slid through the canyon, whisking away the dust.

“If you want this evil thing so badly,” she yelled as loud as she could, “then
go fetch!
”

She hurled the pendant as far as she could into the chasm. It glittered brightly as it arched over empty space before dropping silently into the dark shadows of the canyon. Samael made one small motion, as though he’d almost jerked forward but caught himself. He stared at her from across the barrier of space. She glared back, teeth bared. Then she turned her back on him and rushed back to Seiya.

Vejovis looked up as they ran up to him. “I’ve partially disabled the collar,” he said gruffly. “It will take more time than we have right now to get it off without damaging him. I know of a safe place that’s not too far.”

Piper nodded tersely, glancing at Ash. He was unconscious, the collar still glowing faintly around his neck. The dragons shifted closer, ready to carry them to safety.

She almost looked back at the other side of the canyon—but checked herself. Samael wasn’t worth a last glance. Determined, she helped Vejovis lift Ash onto Zwi’s back. She wasn’t yet relieved by their escape. She wouldn’t feel any relief until she knew, for sure, that Ash would be okay.

. . .

Piper sat in front of the leaping flames, trying hard to stay awake as the heat bathed her face. Seiya sat beside her, as rigid as Piper was wearily slumped. A single blanket was pulled over them, keeping their backs warm while they huddled in front of the small fireplace. Their hideaway was a tiny log cabin deep in the mountains surrounding Asphodel, probably some kind of forgotten guard post. They were still within Hades territory, but it was as safe a place as any.

The downside of their high altitude was the cold. Only the roaring fire made it bearable. Piper suspected some of her shivering was more from exhaustion than the temperature, but she still would have traded the Sahar for a warm pair of pants. Leggings were not mountain appropriate. Nor were off-the-shoulder t-shirts.

Even in her sheer, long-sleeved shirt and red camisole, Seiya wasn’t fazed, but then daemons were hardier than haemons and humans by a fair stretch.

Piper and the draconian girl hadn’t spoken much since arriving at the cabin. Only when they’d finally gotten the fire going had Seiya spoken about anything besides the immediate tasks at hand.

“So how
do
you know my brother?” she’d queried.

The question seemed casual enough, but the girl’s blue eyes had been sharp.

Piper sighed. As briefly as she could, she described the events that had begun with Ash as an intimidating, infrequent interloper of the Consulate and had ended with him as a friend for whom she would risk everything to save.

Seiya listened in silence, nodding occasionally. “I see. Thank you for trying to find him.”

She and Seiya had fallen silent after that, lost in their own thoughts. Every few minutes, they would glance over their shoulders. Against the opposite wall in the one-room cabin was a simple double bed where Ash lay unconscious while Vejovis worked on unraveling the collar’s magic. Minutes slipped by, becoming hours. Despite her exhaustion, Piper didn’t sleep. Didn’t even try. She wouldn’t until she knew.

One of the Underworld’s two suns was peeking over the mountains when a soft footstep made Piper look up from the fire. Vejovis walked around their low, crude bench and sank cross-legged to the floor beside the fireplace. In each hand, he held one half of the collar. He looked at the pieces, then threw them into the fire.

“As long as Ash has suffered no permanent mental trauma,” he said, his deep voice hoarse with exhaustion, “he should be fine.”

“Thank you,” Seiya said, the words hushed with relief.

Vejovis nodded. “I couldn’t fully heal his other wounds; he doesn’t have the physical strength to endure it right now. But I healed them enough. As long as he’s careful, he should be fit again within a week. He’ll need a lot of rest and food.”

Piper and Seiya both nodded earnestly. They glanced in unison at Ash, almost hidden beneath the rest of the blankets, face pale and cheeks hollow.

Vejovis shook his head ruefully, looking toward Ash as well. “He has the constitution of a bear. He’s remarkably healthy, all things considered. The superficial wounds should heal fairly quickly. The two cracked ribs are mended but it will take a while longer before the bones return to their full strength again, especially the broken ankle.”

Piper felt lightheaded. “His ankle was broken? He—I didn’t even realize . . .”

“I think it broke four or five weeks ago, then broke again a day or two ago. Probably for the best as it wasn’t healing well without a cast or splint. I’ve mended the bone now.”

She stared at nothing. Five weeks ago, he had been limping after his battle with the choronzon outside the Gaian’s headquarters. His ankle must have gotten broken in that fight and he’d gone all this time without proper care for it.

“It honestly amazes me what that daemon can survive,” Vejovis murmured. “This is the third time I’ve healed him while he’s been on death’s doorstep.”

“He’s tough,” Seiya said quietly. “That’s how he’s survived Samael all these years.”

“I’ve always wondered why Samael didn’t kill him,” Vejovis admitted.

“Because so few of us are left,” she said. “Eliya and Ezran, they were brothers. They were killed two years ago in the Black Valley War. Nir was assassinated by the Ras while on a mission on Earth last winter. Yaron was poisoned somehow. We don’t even know how. He died in early spring. That leaves Raum and Ash as the last adult male draconians. Kiev and Sivan are too young; they’re still being trained.”

Staring into the fire, she tapped a finger thoughtfully against her bottom lip. “Of the females, Coby is pregnant and Ivria has had three miscarriages in a row. Raum is cousins with the other three. I haven’t been bred yet, mostly because the only option is Raum, and Ash would kill him if he touched me.”

Piper stared, floored by Seiya’s matter-of-fact tone. Miysis had scoffed at the idea of Samael breeding an army of captive draconians. Either Samael was very good at keeping secrets, or other daemons didn’t want to believe the worst of Samael—though they seemed more than happy to believe the worst of draconians.

Seiya focused again. “Samael counts on draconian soldiers to pull off his most dangerous, suicidal missions, and for the politically sensitive assignments where he can wiggle out of the blame if a draconian is caught instead of a reaper. There used to be a lot more of us here, but Samael has fought too many wars in the past few decades. He can’t breed us fast enough to keep up with the death rate.”

Vejovis’s expression was grim. “If Samael is struggling to rebuild his forces, I can understand why free draconians stay well and far away from Hades territory.”

Seiya nodded. “Yes, Samael and his predecessors used to do that quite often—capture ‘wild’ draconians. Our free cousins stay far away. Especially after what happened with Ash’s father.”

Piper leaned forward. “His father?”

Seiya nodded. “He was the last wild draconian Samael caught. Part of the Hades army stumbled on a colony of draconians living in a secluded valley. While the rest of them fled, Ash’s father faced the entire army alone to buy them time to escape. I think he intended to die fighting, but the sheer number of soldiers wore him down and they took him alive.”

She smiled faintly. “Ash’s father was a menace. He killed guards and jailors left and right. He broke every collar they put on him; Ash inherited that ability.”

“It is a rare skill,” Vejovis said.

Seiya nodded. “They only managed to breed him to our mother by drugging him senseless then bringing in a succubus to add aphrodisia magic. He maimed the succubus afterward, or so I’ve heard. At that point, Samael locked him up, hoping to wear down his resistance until he was docile enough to be bred again. But it didn’t work. Six months after capturing him, Samael had him executed.”

Vejovis exhaled. “What was his name?”

“We don’t know,” Seiya whispered. “He never told anyone. But he did tell our mother what to name Ash, only a few days before he was killed. Whether he was even sane at that point . . .” She shrugged. “Either way, Mother always said Ash is very much like his father.”

Piper dragged her eyes off Seiya and stared into the fire, the story swimming through her mind. Five hundred years ago, the Taroth family had rivaled the Hades family in power until the Hades family had wiped them out. It was common knowledge that the Taroth bloodline had been extinct for several generations. And yet, Ash’s mysterious father had given Ash the Taroth name. Had it been wishful thinking on the part of a dying man? Or had Ash’s father really been a Taroth descendent passing on his name to his son?

“So, um.” Piper stared determinedly into the flames. “Did Samael have Ash . . . breed . . . any of the draconian women?”

“He tried,” Seiya replied with a kind of hard pride, “but he could never make Ash cooperate.”