Lost Soul (DarkWorld: SkinWalker Book 2) (35 page)

I didn’t hear his words, my mind still on my mother and the promises I’d broken. Fingers slipped into my hand and I looked at Iain as he held my hand, squeezing it in silent comfort. I’d refused to speak, not wanting to be a hypocrite. As sisters, we’d never been close. No point in pretending now.

Soon my father returned to his seat, and Etina resumed her duties. Movement around me brought me back to the present as the small gathering began to rise. The service was over and the coffin would be transferred to a special cart, whose dark gleaming wheels were almost as tall as I was. The cart would draw the coffin and the mourners along the edge of the town and deep into the mountains.

All walkers have a special place to bury their dead. Living in the world of humans the only safety we had against prying eyes is the ownership of private land. As such every Walker town would have a special burial ground. Whether they be within mountains or beneath the ground they were all lead lined to hide the contents and the entrances were all so well hidden that the only way you would know was there was if you’d been shown it. And as a rule no human was ever shown the entrance to our Mausoleums.

When the gathering moved to the roadside, only immediate family, elders and the priestess completed the procession. The cart moved, drawn by my father and brother, and I followed, giving Logan and my friends a weak wave.

“We’ll wait for you at the house,” whispered Lily as my heels scraped the hard packed soil of the path.

The procession moved slowly, following the rugged road deep into the trees until we moved off the road and made out way to the base of the mountain. Someone up ahead, most like my father, pressed his hand against the rock hidden behind a fall of leaves. Stone ground and scraped, and a large rock shifted to reveal the entrance to the burial cave. The doorway was large enough for the wheeled carriage to pass through comfortably. We walked inside in silence, stepping farther into the cool interior while the door grunted and groaned shut.

For the briefest moment they were plunged into a solid darkness so thick it felt like I was breathing it into my lungs. Seconds later lights began to flicker and small electric lanterns, strung high up on the walls, lit the whole place up.

The burial grounds was made up of a warren of caves leading off a long corridor, and organized according to family. Each individual room backed onto solid stone, allowing the family to dig deeper into the mountain to expand their space should they need to. Many of the older family's had caves within caves allocated to them. The carriage traveled to the furthest end of the passage, the thin wheels rubbling along the stone floor. As they moved into the shadowed depths, I followed, my heart thudding against my ribs.

Ours was the very last of the caves, belonging to the oldest family in Tukats. The men prepared to remove the coffin from the carriage and the priestess fussed around them, wanting to ensure they didn’t damage the fragile carvings. She needn't have bothered. The men, two others including my father and brother, were accustomed enough to funeral preparations as to take the required care with the coffin. They slid it off the wooden base of the carriage, then lifted it by the carved metal handles. They hefted their burden through the entrance to the Odel burial chamber, finding the empty spot beside my uncle Niko’s coffin. Despite the deeds of his troubled lifetime they had accorded him the position in death that had been allocated to him. He sat beside his father, my grandfather, late husband to Grams who stood silently beside me. Everyone within the community had access to the burial caves, many coming and going as they please. But I knew Grams hardly ever visited. I’d never understood her reluctance until now.

The walls exuded a deep cold that did nothing to counter the icy fingers of grief. Although I was not mired deeply within the grip of mourning for Greer I could understand the need to have someone make you feel better. And this cold, underground mausoleum certainly did nothing to help a person feel better. I moved closer to Grams, happy to feel the warmth of her arm as she drew me closer.

In that moment I missed my mom so badly that I felt the stab of longing deep in my gut. It hurt and hot tears filmed my eyes. I blinked them away and just in time as Iain and my father joined Grams and me. The rest of the townspeople who’d accompanied us to the burial grounds moved behind us. The priestess walked silently to the head of the coffin, a sensor swinging from her hand. Ribbons of white smoke streaming from the gleaming brass container, curling and spiraling upward until they dissipated above our heads.

The scent of incense softened the icy air, and I felt the tight fist in my gut release its hold on me.

Etina spoke about the eternal quality of the soul and how the ones we lose are never truly gone. I almost believed her. I recalled the way Greer had retreated into the light, how it had felt so right, as if she was returning home, or maybe it was the expression on her face. One I’d never seen before.

Peace.

***

We were gathered in my father’s lounge, the fire crackling merrily away despite the warm sun outside. Once we’d returned, the Odel family had been banished to the lounge, to visit with their friends, and wind down. Friends of the family took over the kitchen and food duties, and trays of sandwiches and pastries were brought around by people I recognized. Their faces revealed no judgment, not even any curiosity about the specifics of Greer's death. Dad and Ian as well as Logan and Omega had actively ensured that the details would be kept under wraps. That didn’t mean that the people of Tukats were ignorant of my sister’s relationship with Niko and his Pariahs, or that they would be ignorant of Greer's relationship with Brand. People talked and walkers were just like humans when it came to gossip.

But one good thing was I knew they’d never ask me directly. I still stood apart from the walkers I’d been raised among and even know the reason didn’t ease the niggle of unhappiness inside my heart. I shifted in my seat and studied my friends. A Fae, a djinn, a fire mage and a lynx walker. What an interesting circle of friends I’d made. And it wasn’t often that my father’s house contained this many non-walkers.

I felt the heat of the fire on my right, my cheek now uncomfortably hot. I fiddled with the crumbs and oily tissue that remained on the empty plate on my lap. Lily and Tara were talking in low voices beside me and I caught snatches of their conversation. Something about a jamming safety lock, and poison bullets that got repeatedly stuck in the chamber. Salem and Logan sat on the couch opposite me, seemingly in deep conversation. But even while he interacted with Saleem, Logan never stopped watching me with those dark eyes. He caught my eye and gave me a small smile and I understood his reluctance to come too close to me. The Tukats community was not without their own prejudices and I knew that despite the well meaning words and the polite social behavior my friends would have been given the whole outsider treatment.

I got to my feet. “You guys want some fresh air?”

They rose in unison and I hid a smile. They were as eager as I was to get out of the room.

Heads turned, drawn to our sudden movement. Dad looked up from a conversion with Iain. They both stood beside the fire, the golden light dancing on their fair hair. Our little family was now balanced between the dark haired and the light. I blink, pulling myself up short. What a silly thing to think about right now. All the stress of Greer's death and the funeral must be turning my mind to mush.

I stuck a thumb in the direction of the patio doors and they both nodded. They knew where I would take my little party.

I headed to the patio doors, unlatching it and walking out into the sunshine. The day was cool despite the warmth of the sun. Nobody spoke as I hurried out onto the lawn, A Little white gazebo sat at least a hundred meters from the house. Painted white it was octagonal in shape, with four doors and four windows. A pillar marked each point of the eight sides and was now overgrown with a creeping white rose. Little white buds peeked out from the sea of green leaves and branches. Once inside we all burst out laughing. The space was not big enough to fit five adults all standing.

I sighed and sank onto to the nearest window seat. “This used to be my most favorite place in all the world.”

“I can see why,” said Lily as she took one of the seats opposite me. The Strong warmth beside me made me want to smile. Logan sat beside me, his long legs stretched out in front of him. There was barely enough space on the seat fit two people but we seemed to fit. Lily stared around at the creeping roses and the flaking paint. “Did you dad build this for you?”

I shook my head and almost bumped my forehead on Logan's chin. “No. This place was built for Greer. When she was six she’d wanted a tree house. Dad, of course, was reluctant but Mom had liked the idea. Eventually they came to a compromise. A gazebo would do just as well. But Greer was the only one who wasn’t satisfied. She was never the compromise sort and once it had been built she barely gave it a glance. It eventually became the place I would go to to have a quiet moment. Somewhere that I could hide away with a book.”

The day Mom had left I’d been reading in the gazebo, a daisy-chain crown draped on my head. I head a car door slam and glanced up to see Mom getting into her car. Dad was standing on the porch his hands hanging at his sides, as if he had no idea what to do with them. The look on his face had chilled my blood and when I looked back at Mom I’d known something was wrong. Her eyes gleamed with tears and she swiped at them so that she could see the keyhole to start the engine. Once she’d gunned the engine she’d released the brake and drove off without a backward glance. The wheels had skidded, spitting gravel and remembered the empty clacking sound of the stones. Later I remember wondering if that had really been the sound of the stones. Because I was sure it was the sound of my heart breaking.

“So how you holding up?” asker Logan softly.

I glanced at him, met his eyes and smiled. I wanted to run my hands along his cheek, to hold him and thank him for being so kind an attentive. “I’m fen. Really I am.” I feel into silence, my thoughts back to Greer. I wasn’t as if we were ever as close as sisters should be. Logan shifted and I looked up. From the looks of all the faces around me I knew what had happened. “I’d said that aloud didn’t I?” Saleem's eyes twinkled and both Lily and Tara nodded. Tara had an odd look in her eye, as if she was worried about me but was trying not to get too suffocating with her concern.

I raised my eyes at Tara in question and her features relaxed a little. “Kai, you do know you don’t have to have a close relationship with a family member to mourn them.” I nodded. “Because that’s what I think you are doing. You are stopping yourself from mourning her because you think you have no right to. Because you weren't close, or because you were so different from each other or because you never clicked.”

I sighed and leaned against Logan. “I know but somehow I seem to keep doing it to myself. Even when I feel like crying I just feel like a fraud. Why do I deserve to cry for a sister who never really cared.”

“But was that really all that true?” asked Logan as he gave me a squeeze. I craned my neck to look at his face. “You said in the end she’d seemed almost as if she’d cared. And maybe she had always cared. Just never really knew how to show it. Just because you didn’t have the perfect world relationship does not mean you were not sisters. She was you family. And now she’s gone and its okay to mourn her. Nobody will judge you for it.”

I stiffened a little but Logan didn’t move away. I didn’t want him to either. He was right. I’d been doing this to myself all along. Making myself feel like I had no right to mourn her loss. Missing her or reminiscing about good times would be a lie. But mourning her wasn’t. “Why does everyone that goes on in my head have to be so darned complicated?”

“Because your name is Kailin Odel.” Saleem spoke, his face gleaming with a smile. For the briefest moment I thought I saw tattoos along his eyes and forehead, dark markings creeping along his neck and throat and disappearing into the neckline of his shirt. I blinked and they were gone. And I would have thought it was all just my imagination had it not been for the look her gave me. A knowing look. I blinked. Was he using a glamor to hide the markings?

Not that it was any of my business what he showed to the world and what he didn’t But I still had unfinished business with the gorgeous Djinn. We’d never discussed his strange need to collect hate Blue Stones while we were in the Greylands. I made mental note to speak to him about that. But for now I needed to just relax.

# End of LOST SOUL Excerpt #

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