The girl blinked, and Layla’s eyes were closed again, her lips continually muttering silent words and promises to the baby in her arms. In a matter ofminutes, Layla’s kisses and words slowed and her arms became slack. The baby dropped to rest fully on Layla’s chest as she took one, then two shuddering last breaths, and was still.
The girl saw the soldier reach for and sheath his short sword before she was whisked away, back to the black room filled with infinite lights. The girl was numb. There were no words to describe the sheer cruelty and brutality that she witnessed from that soldier. The girl searched within herself to find some other emotion to attach to, and felt nothing but utter hatred. It was the hatred of an entire people—her people, coalescing into one feeling inside the girl. It coursed through her, lighting her very soul on fire and causing her blood to run hot.
The girl reached a shaky, shadowed hand to another flickering star, simultaneously dreading what she would see and resolved to see it through.
Time passed in a blur—it felt altogether too long and not long enough for the number of atrocities the girl witnessed. Each flickering star brought her to the moment of death of one of her people. She saw friends and families burned alive, women and girls raped repeatedly before their used and destroyed bodies were put to the sword, men castrated and their bodies placed on pikes in the center of the village. No house was left untouched, no area left unsearched.
The girl watched the systematic and brutal genocide of her people. Mages of all types relished in the destruction and the emotions wrenched from the dying Keepers, using them to fill their Vessels and crystals.
And each vision that the girl saw hardened her heart. Each time one of her people held her stare and reminded her to watch and to remember caused another soft piece of her to die and be replaced with pure malice and promise of retribution.
The person the girl entered the Seeing Room as was no more. In her place stood a woman hardened by grief and hate, the broken pieces of her soul stitched together with a song of despair and revenge.
The girl had seen thousands of deaths, watched thousands of souls flicker and die until only a handful remained in the cavernous black space. As each soul fled this plane, their corresponding life light flickered and died, leaving the space in a darkness that now matched the girl’s soul. She listened for the voices that originally accompanied her in this place, but found that only whispers remained of the original cacophony of sound.
The girl gazed about the space, noticing a few life lights pure and bright in the distance. Only two remained close to her, each beginning to flicker with an intensity that she couldn’t ignore. As she reached for one of the lights, they merged before her eyes and formed one larger light that flickered in time with the pulse of the girl’s heart.
Somewhere deep in the recesses of the person the girl used to be, she knew who those two life lights belonged to. With an iron resolve and a hardened heart, the girl reached out to grasp the final flickering light, knowing without any doubt whose deaths would greet her on the other side.
Chapter 6
The Girl
The girl’s soul appeared in the Room of Knowledge just beyond the hidden Seeing Room where her body currently resided. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed while she was in Solace, but it was clear that the soldiers that brought her great-grandmother and mother down into the basement were still waiting on Lord d’Refan to join them.
Her mother’s body was propped against the wall on one side of the circular room, most of her weight supported by a soldier who didn’t look much older than the girl. Her mouth was open, blood still running freely from her jagged teeth and broken nose, and it dripped obscenely down her chin and neck, pooling at the collar of her kaftan. The girl’s great-grandmother stood a few paces away in stock stillness, her body stooped and leaning heavily on the cane she always carried. Her gnarled hands shook with small tremors, whether from fear, adrenaline, or something else, the girl couldn’t be sure. A second soldier—this one older with greying temples and lines around his eyes—stood behind her great-grandmother, hands resting lightly atop her shoulders. His expression held something akin to discomfort, as if he regretted his role in this entire ordeal.
But the girl couldn’t find it within herself to offer any type of pity or empathy toward the soldier. He, like anyone else who wore black armor today, condemned himself to death. Whether willing participants or not,the girl simply did not care. As a unit, they had brutalized and systematically eradicated her people. If they wore black, they subscribed to the same ideals. As a collective unit, they were heartless creatures, and the girl promised to show them the same mercy that was shown to her people.
The girl’s bodiless eyes gazed around the remaining space. There were a handful of other soldiers—some old, some young, all in that cursed black tunic and pants—stationed around the exterior circle of the room, leaving the middle open. The girl knew from experience that the runes inscribed on the stone circle in the very center of the room would, when activated, reveal an ancient book—a sacred tome that was entrusted to the Keepers by the gods themselves. The girl had never seen the book before, but the importance of keeping it safe was impressed upon her at an early age.
They must be here for the book.That was the only thing that made sense. But why would they kill all her people?
The soldier who had brutalized her mother’s mouth paced in front of the entrance to the room, constantly toying with the dagger. He seemed on edge, like a predator caged. Abruptly, he stopped his pacing, sheathed his dagger, and turned to face the entrance to the Room of Knowledge. The girl heard footsteps and tried to move to get a better angle to view the scene in front of her.
To her surprise, her ghostly form responded to her wishes. The girl wondered if it was because she was watching the last of the Keepers, or because the life light had combined right before she touched it. Either way, she was grateful for the ability to move about. She tried to touch her mother and great-grandmother, but her hands passed through their forms and neither outwardly reacted to her presence.
As she drifted across the room, she felt, rather than saw, another presence enter the space. The girl could literally feel the energy of the magic emanating from the newcomer, and it made her soul shiver and her stomach revolt. Whoever this person was, they werepowerful. The girl turned her ghostly body toward the entryway of the room just as two men strode through the doorway. There was a confidence in the way they moved, both of them assured in their bodies and status. The soldiers in the room straightened, their eyes and heads tracking the movement of the two men.
On closer inspection, the girl realized the power signature she initially felt was actually two different signatures, and it fell in waves from bothmen. The pair came to a halt at the entryway, just inside the Room of Knowledge. There was a synchrony to their movements, as if they knew exactly what the other would do before it even happened. That type of understanding came from years of living with and understanding another person, and the girl would have thought it beautiful if the men weren’t the key to the destruction of her people.
The men surveyed the room, calculating eyes taking in every detail and cataloguing it for use. The similarities between the two were almost eerie and, on initial inspection, the girl assumed they were siblings. However, a closer look indicated that while similar in appearance and mannerisms, there were stark differences between the two.
Lovers, maybe?She thought. Despite her hatred for these men and their army, the girl couldn’t help but be drawn to them.
Both men were tall with hard muscles pressing at the edges of their tunics, the age of time not yet settling into their faces. They both sported dark, full beards that were neatly trimmed and matched the almost coal-black of their hair. The man in front was slightly shorter than the man in back, the top of his head cresting the top of the other man’s chin. Their eyes, though, were where the girl noticed the biggest difference. Where the man in back had vividly emerald-green eyes that seemed to sparkle with intelligence and curiosity, his companion’s were almost black and sparked with malice. They pinged around the space, never quite fully settling on one object or person, and it gave him a slightly crazed appearance.
The two men surveyed the scene, eyes finally coming to rest on the girl’s mother and great-grandmother. They both, thankfully, skipped right over where the girl was standing between the two Matriarchs.
“What happened to her mouth?” The question came from the man in front. His voice was smooth and low with a lilt of barely constrained violence. The girl shivered involuntarily. The man was dangerous.
The pacing soldier stiffened before bowing at the waist. “Lord d’Refan, she was uncooperative and antagonistic. She needed to be taught a lesson.” His response was clipped, and he once again fiddled with the dagger at his waist.
The man—Lord d’Refan—turned his gaze from the girl’s mother and focused on the pacing soldier. Nothing else moved aside from his eyes, andthe effect was unnerving. Apparently, the soldier thought so, too, as his nervous fiddling increased once the man’s gaze fully rested on him.
“Under whose authorization?” There was no bite to Lord d’Refan’s words, no forced aggression, but they carried an undoubted air of authority.
“Well, mine, my lord,” the soldier bit out. Lord d’Refan raised his eyebrows minutely and the soldier straightened before continuing. “As the leader of this outfit and particular mission, I was given the go-ahead to do whatever was necessary to bring them to heel. She was a mouthy bitch, sir, and needed to be taught her place.”
