The Chosen Soul (28 page)

white leather. Symbols were etched into the blood grooves along each point and as the

image turned slowly this way and that, the symbols glinted gold beneath some unseen

light. “Its enchantment has carried through time immemorial.” He paused, his eyes

burning a cold blue fire. “It would kill any normal elf.”

Drake held his gaze, watching the Prince with the same intensity that the elf used

upon him. Astriel need not bother to expand upon the meaning of his words. Cruor was

no ordinary elf. He was the Death Mage. Whether the dagger worked on him or not

would remain to be seen.

Drake rose from his seat. As he did so, Malveis moved to the door, opened it, and

spoke softly to the elven guards outside. Almost immediately, one of them entered the

room, carrying Drake’s confiscated weapon.

Drake moved around the table and took it, placing the long sword in its sheath across

his back. Then he turned back to Astriel.

The Prince strode slowly toward him until he was a mere foot away. “Don’t be late,

Tanith.”

They eyed one another.

- 227 -

Heather Killough-Walden

“And remember our deal.”

“I gave you my word,
your Highness
,” Drake said, his silver eyes flashing. “It’s as good as done.” Then he turned and followed Malveis to the door. There, he stopped and

faced Astriel once more.

“Keep her safe.”

Astriel smiled. “I intend to.”

*****

Loki stared at the head acolyte for a moment.
Haledon’s champion?
Loki’s mind

fairly spun at the thought. He blinked, almost dizzy, and then, he squared his shoulders

and took a deep confident breath.
All right.
If Haledon wants me as his champion, then
he’s got me.

He motioned for the priests just inside the doorway to come all the way in. They

moved slowly toward him, as did Maelix. “Listen carefully, everyone. Cruor has

returned. He is searching for the Chosen Soul - my sister - and if he finds her and kills

her, all life as we know it will end. We know that Cruor is Gray Beard, the Blue Robe

master mage at Eidolon. And we know that he has been leading the Omega Order for

more than a thousand years." He paused to seek out Maelix amongst the crowd of priests.

"Maelix, we have to cast another search spell. This time, we’ll do it together. With our combined strength and magical energy, we may be able to locate either Raven, despite

her shielding, or Cruor, despite his."

Either way, Loki knew the Death Mage and his sister would wind up in the same

place soon enough.

-

228 -

The Chosen Soul

The Chosen Soul – Chapter Twenty

Raven came awake slowly at first. She wondered what morning it was and what she

had done the night before that left her so wasted. She moved her legs. They felt heavy

and slightly numb, as if she were suspended in cold water.

“Raven,” a voice greeted. It was a deep voice, soft and gentle. She opened her eyes.

And remembered everything.

She sat upright with a jolt and found Adonides’s arms around her waist, steadying

her, slowing her down. Her breath came hard and fast. She peered down at the ring on her

finger and felt a scream well up in her throat.

She’d killed six men, no older than boys. She’d murdered them. All of them.

With
magic
.

The scream escaped. It was a wail of rage and terror. She fought off Adonides’s grip

as she tried to rise from the grass. She was numb with shock and stumbled slightly as she

stood.

“Shh! Raven, calm down. Listen to me, please.” He stood beside her, his massive

form towering over her quaking body. She stared up at him with wild eyes and then

glanced down at the black ring on her right middle finger. She reached for it with her

other hand, and he immediately caught her, stilling her action. She pulled away from him,

desperate now to get it off, and he came forward, catching both of her wrists in order to

hold her fast.

- 229 -

Heather Killough-Walden

“Let me go!” She could only see the cold lightning and their twisted, dying faces, as

she fried and froze the young men in the middle of the street. It was the ring’s fault. Her father’s
gift
. Its banded weight witlessly made her want to chop the appendage off.

“No!” he answered, her fight bringing the predator in him to the fore. “Settle down.

Listen to me, Raven, and stop struggling! You’re weak and you’re not thinking straight-”

“You’re evil, Adonides.”

She stopped fighting and looked him in the eyes. His golden eyes burned an eerie,

heated yellow, but she held his gaze, refusing to back down. She knew what he had done.

She’d figured it out. It had all been part of some twisted, malicious plan. He’d tricked her into taking the ring, into using her magic to kill those men.

Into becoming like her father.

And she hated him for it.

“I said let me go.” Her fangs extended as anger fueled her courage.

Adonides’s gaze narrowed. His own fangs grew and a growl rose from deep in his

throat. He slowly shook his head, his face a mere few inches from her own. He held her

wrists in his hands and used his leverage to pull her even closer. He then trapped her arms behind her back and placed both of her wrists into one of his hands as the other came up

to grab a handful of hair at the back of her head.

“Yes, I’m evil. I am an Abaddonian. Did you ever really think differently?” His hot

breath caressing her lips as she pulled against his strength with all her might. He was

right. She was weak. She could feel it, not only physically, but elsewhere. It was as if

some deep reservoir within herself had been drained, emptied.

-

230 -

The Chosen Soul

She shook with fear and fury in his grasp. He’d tricked her. Used her. He was pulling

her strings like a puppet, had been all along. What had she been thinking to trust him? He

was her father’s…

“Let. Me. Go!” she screamed in his face, as she willed her body into its devil form.

As her skin darkened, and then lightened again, she cried out in frustration, feeling the

change slip from her grasp. She simply had no strength left, no magic. Nothing.

Adonides laughed softly, his yellow eyes flashing, all pretense of gentleness gone

from his handsome, horrible visage.

“You have no defenses, Raven. You have no means of escape. Tell me, Princess,

what are you going to do now?” His voice had become a low rumble, a deep dark and

demonic timbre that quickened her pulse and sent the blood pounding through her

eardrums. She shivered, truly despising the devil who had pretended to help her, to teach

her and guide her. He’d turned her into a killer.

“She’s going to come with me.”

Adonides and Raven both turned toward the voice.

Cruor stood alone, dressed in garb of shadow, his ice blue eyes glittering in the

moonlight, his scar stark and severe against the otherwise perfect lines of his handsome

face. His hands were at his sides, his stance non-confrontational.

He looked at Raven and smiled.

Raven’s eyes widened. Real terror rippled through her. Whereas Adonides threatened

her soul esoterically, Cruor wanted to eat it. He wanted her dead, and as things appeared

at the moment, Raven didn’t see any way of escaping him.

“Let her go, Adonides. She’s through playing with you. She and I have plans.”

- 231 -

Heather Killough-Walden

“Like hell,” Adonides growled at the Death Mage. He roughly threw her to the

ground behind him and turned to face Cruor. Raven hit the grass hard, but quickly

recovered. She pushed herself up into a sitting position and watched as Adonides leapt

into the air. He beat his giant black bat-like wings once against the night air, and then

pulled them in and dove across the field toward the elf.

Cruor simply raised one black-gloved hand, palm-out, in Adonides’s direction.

Raven watched as Adonides froze mid-flight, and hovered, unmoving, a few feet

away from the Death Mage.

She could not help the small whimper that escaped her throat.

Instantly, Cruor turned his attention to her. “Does it upset Raven to see him so?" he

asked, a mask of real concern on his strikingly handsome face.

She could not answer. She couldn’t find her voice.

He kept his eyes locked on hers as he unhurriedly walked toward her. Adonides

remained frozen in the air, as if time had simply stopped in a bubble around him. Cruor

ignored him and focused on her as if she were the only living being in the field.

“He used you, Raven. He and your father, both,” he said as he made his way across

the clearing. He moved with magical grace, almost gliding, his steps easy, determined.

She tried to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat, but it would not budge.

“And he would have used you again,” he continued, his tone gentle. “You know that,

don’t you?”

She stared up at him, her dark eyes searching his blue gaze for mercy she knew she

would never find.

-

232 -

The Chosen Soul

He smiled, warmly, and then lowered himself onto one knee. He offered her his

hand.

- 233 -

Heather Killough-Walden

The Chosen Soul – Chapter Twenty-One

Raven somehow found the will to pull her gaze away from Cruor’s ice blue eyes to

look down at his offered gloved hand. Then she looked up at Adonides, suspended,

motionless in the air. And then she looked back into Cruor’s eyes.

She wondered why he hadn’t taken her soul yet.

Why hadn’t he killed her?

Through the roiling dread in her gut and the pounding blood in her ears, she managed

to find her voice, though it was much weaker than she would have preferred.

“Why haven’t you just taken it?” she asked.

Cruor’s smile never wavered. He withdrew his hand and stood. Raven gazed up at

him where he towered over her, a being of pure night, with cold blue eyes that glowed

like two moons.

“Your soul is not mine to take, Raven. It is yours to give.”

He turned from her then and slowly paced back to Adonides’s location. Over his

shoulder, he said, “He attacked your brother, you know. Tried to kill him,” he spoke

indifferently, coolly, as if they were merely carrying on a conversation.

Raven stared at the Death Mage. She stared at Adonides. She hadn’t thought

anything more could shock her. She’d been wrong.

“However,” and he turned his bright white smile upon her, “apparently, your brother

fought him off with Haledon’s axes.” He chuckled then and tsked as he shook his head,

admonishingly. “The Sun God is unforgivingly meddlesome. Isn’t he, Adonides?” he

asked as he gazed up at the frozen devil. Cruor moved to the devil’s side and waved his

hand, palm-out.

-

234 -

The Chosen Soul

Adonides un-froze, and was suddenly sailing through the air toward a target that was

no longer there. He caught himself before he would have hit the ground and spun in time

to land on his feet, his bright yellow eyes smoldering.

He lunged for the elven mage once again and Cruor’s gaze hardened. He raised his

left hand, palm-out, at the same time raising his right hand in the form of a claw. In quick succession, he interchanged them. Adonides once more halted in the air, as if held back

by an invisible fist. As Cruor’s other hand came forward in a grabbing motion, Adonides

bellowed in pain, his chest exploding open in a spray of gore and blood, his heart ripped

from its interior, still beating.

The light in Adonides’s eyes went out, and the devil’s suspended form went limp.

The dripping heart pumped empty air where it hung a few feet from the body it had

inhabited. The beats slowed, and after a few nightmarishly long seconds, stopped.

The world blurred around Raven. It darkened. She screamed. She ignored her

weakness, found the strength to stand. Then she found the strength to run.

She turned, her hair and skirt flying out around her, and plunged head-long into the

forest ahead of her. She didn’t care where she was running, she simply had to go, to flee.

From behind her, she heard the sound of soft laughter. It followed her through the

forest, wrapped around her, echoed off of the trees and stones.

“A game, then…”
His voice whispered. It was there beside her, caressing her neck,

running along with her, and just ahead.
“Run, Raven…”
He laughed again, a deep throaty chuckle of pure menace.

She ran blindly, terror fueling the muscles in her legs, pumping the blood through her

veins.

- 235 -

Heather Killough-Walden

She did not slow to watch where she stepped, or duck beneath branches. She was

counting on the uncanny ability she’d always had to bypass tree roots or low-lying limbs

without any effort on her part. However, this forest was different. Sinister. Branches

scraped pitilessly at her skin as she dashed through the dense forest. It was almost as if

they were reaching out for her, their leaves like grasping fingers, every plant covered in

thorns, every bough barbed. Tree roots that had never given her trouble before now

attempted to trip her up, getting in her way, slowing her down.

Her breath came hard and fast and her heart pounded painfully inside its rib cage