Shattered Souls (Guardians of the Maiden Book 3)

Zev barely listened to the conversation between Rawn and Lord Jophiel about the winter traditions of Greenwood. He studied everyone in attendance at the banquet. Cassiel was seated at the head of the long redwood table, dressed as the very embodiment of royalty. It had been some time since Zev had seen him in such finery. Dyna was seated on his right with Lucenna, and Lord Jophiel on his left, followed by Rawn and Zev as honored guests. The chattering nobles seated further along the table shot looks at Cassiel, and many of them were unkind.

It reminded Zev of the time he sat at King Yoel’s table, which now seemed like ages ago. The great hall had immense marbled walls gilded in veins of gold. Several large golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling with flickering candles. Plates and cups made of crystal and a variety of in-season fruits and vegetables filled the table. No meat, as usual, but in Hermon Ridge they allowed cooked food. And there were tiered platters full of pastries dusted with sugar and berries. He secretly chuckled at the pure bliss on Lucenna’s face when she bit into one.

Many servants moved about the room serving food and drink. Several guards and Valkyrie watched quietly from their posts on each wall and entry. A female Celestial played a big golden harp in the corner, harmonizing with a sweet melody in the language of the Heavens. The music didn’t help Zev’s unease.

He picked at every voice, searching for any threat against his cousin. But all the noise was making his head spin.

The tenor of Malakel’s voice floated to him. Zev glanced at where he stood with Lord Hallel and Lord Raziel on the far end of the room, each nursing a drink as they held some conversation not clear enough to catch. Lord Gadriel sat with Lady Sarrai at the center of the table, also whispering among themselves.

His wolf growled quietly inside of him as he tried to calculate who was planning against his cousin. He knew the Celestials wouldn’t readily accept her, but would they stoop so low as to kill her? With how much they hated humans, it made sense.

Sorting through the voices, Zev focused on Lord Gadriel’s conversation with Sarrai.

“How is my mother?” she asked.

“She is well.”

“I’m pleased to hear so.” Sarrai pushed a fork through her food restlessly. “I have been thinking, my lord. When you return to Nazar, could I … accompany you and stay awhile? Only for a few days. I would like to visit my mother—”

“Your place is here,” he cut her off sharply, and she shrank from the rancor in his next response. “With your kind.”

Sarrai tried to keep her expression indifferent but Zev read the hurt welling in her eyes and the flush in her cheeks.

“I did not invest in your future to have it deposed by some human. Do your duty and honor the great name that you bear. The day you are permitted to enter my Realm is when you become worthy of it.”

A low, piercing hum cut off Zev’s concentration. He locked eyes with Prince Asiel where he sat at the opposite end of the table. He wore smokey indigo robes trimmed in silver, his white wings resting behind his shoulders. A subtle smirk rested on his face as his finger slowly circled the edge of a glass of water. The sound was lost to the room, but it was loud in Zev’s ears. He knew it bothered Rawn by the way he stiffened beside him.

Was Asiel another threat they should look out for? He had essentially lost his inheritance because of them.

The prince’s gaze flickered to Dyna and his smirk grew. Cassiel had made it very clear that Asiel targeted human girls for his enjoyment. Zev would bite off one of his limbs if he ever came near her. Asiel’s finger halted at the unexpected color change of his irises.

“If I may, there was one thing we did wish to ask, Lord Jophiel,” Rawn said, drawing Zev’s attention.

“Ah, yes.” Cassiel lowered his voice so only they could hear. “We need to cross Troll Bridge as soon as possible, Uncle. I was hoping you would grant us passage.”

All of them leaned forward in their seats to hear his reply.

A guarded look crossed Lord Jophiel’s face as he looked at his nephew. They held a long stare, and Zev heard Cassiel’s pulse climb. Earlier that afternoon, he had finally shared his reason to go to Mount Ida. By the way Dyna’s green eyes bounced between Cassiel and Lord Jophiel worriedly, she already knew about his missing mother.

“Do you know why It’s called Troll Bridge?” Lord Jophiel finally asked them. “It’s an isthmus that bridges Azure to the rest of Urn, and it’s quite beautiful with oceans on both coasts. However, it’s infested with trolls.”

“They are aware,” Cassiel said.

Lord Jophiel nodded and leaned back in his chair. “Then you know how perilous it is. They are thoughtless creatures but deadly in a frenzied Horde. Azure gave up colonizing the land because of it. Please know you would be taking a monumental risk going there.”

“Is it impossible to cross it alive?” Lucenna asked.

“Well, I did not say that.” Everyone stilled, hearing something in his tone. Lord Jophiel glanced at Cassiel. “There are other people there now. They have taken up residence on the Bridge and built a stronghold.”

Zev and Rawn exchanged startled looks.

“Who are they?” Cassiel asked.

“They are sellswords. Expert killers. They would have to be to survive in such a place. They keep to themselves and only ever fight for whoever pays them the most gold. Their town is self-sustaining without any king to rule them, and they want it to remain that way. I have met their leader and have agreed to keep their existence undisclosed from Azure. In turn, they do the same for Hermon, and keep the trolls from migrating into the ridge.”

Cassiel’s mouth fell a gape. “They know about us?”

“Yes. It’s a secret only known by the High King, the Lords, and the Valkyrie. It’s time you know things of this nature now that you are to be Lord of the Realm.”

“Are they agreeable men?”

“I would say so. However, they can be hostile when the safety of their town is threatened.”

“If it’s not too much to ask, could you inquire of the leader to escort us to the end of their territory?” Rawn asked next. “We have the means to pay them. We only wish to cross Troll Bridge to the west. We have no interest in disturbing their anonymity.”

“I have not been in contact with them for a few years now. We only know they are there for the lack of trolls. I could send a messenger but that would require consent from the High King first.” Lord Jophiel frowned at Cassiel. “I will not bar them from going, and as Lord, I cannot truly deny you either. But we both know the one who you must seek permission from is not me.”

Cassiel expression grew serious. “I understand. Thank you, Uncle.”

Ultimately, it would be King Yoel’s decision, but knowing Cassiel, Zev didn’t think he would wait to get his answer.

Rawn locked eyes with him, then the rest of them, and each nodded in agreement. They all had a reason to reach Mount Ida. Crossing Troll Bridge was the next step. “We are grateful to you, Lord Jophiel.”

“Of course.” Worry crossed his face. “Another concern, if you have not reached the end before the snowfall, you will be detained on the Bridge until it melts.”

“For that very reason we must not delay.”

Lord Jophiel’s gaze flickered between him and his nephew. “I understand your urgency but I do hope you will consider staying until the wedding.”

“Of course,” Rawn replied with a polite smile, but Zev sensed his impatience. Every delayed day was an added risk.

“My lord?” They looked up at Lady Sarrai’s arrival. She smiled at Lord Jophiel. “It’s time for the blessing.”

“Ah, yes.” He stood and climbed the steps of a short empty stage that had been purposely cleared. On the back wall was a massive window covered by a heavy, velvet blue curtain with thick, golden tassels. He faced the room, and everyone quickly quieted, all attention falling on him.

“This is the most significant part of the year,” Lord Jophiel began, his modulated voice projecting clearly. “It’s a time when whatever our strife, the Realms come together to celebrate the miracle of light. We all know the story of our ancestors, but we will share it for our guests today. During the First Age, our people lived beneath the dominion of the God of Shadows. But King Kāhssiel rose up and led a brutal war against the army of demons that lasted for decades. In the coldest winter the earth had ever seen…the sun vanished. Left in endless darkness, our people feared we had been abandoned. No matter how much our people begged the skies, their prayers were unanswered.” Lord Jophiel paused, emotion crossing his face. “The war was brutal, and the chances of victory faded with every death. When all seemed lost, a great white tree sprouted in the middle of the battlefield. It glowed brightly with a light so pure, our people knew it was a sign that Elyōn was still with us.”

A moving quiet filled the room, and in this moment, there was no plotting. No anger or scheming. But remembrance. A deep meaning for the Celestials that even Zev felt.

“The impact of such a miracle stirred their souls and renewed their faith. The Hyalus tree provided light in that final battle for seven straight days until King Kāhssiel vanquished the army of the God of Shadows. And at the end of his dark reign, the sun, at last, returned. It was not the light that saved them from our enemies. Nor did it help them win the war. It was the message that we had not been abandoned that gave them the courage to fight on. And that is something worth celebrating.”

The crowd applauded, their cheers filling the room.

“The sun is about to set, and we need someone to lift the curtain for Elyōn’s blessing over the Realms,” Lord Jophiel said. Lady Sarrai stood straighter, smiling up at him expectantly. But his gaze wandered past her and landed on Dyna. He held out a hand to her. “Who better than the new Lady of Hermon Ridge. Come my dear, and you too, Cassiel.”

The room was quiet, their shock sticking to Zev’s skin.

Dyna looked terrified. She shook her head pleadingly at Cassiel. He grinned and laced his fingers through hers. They must have shared a short conversation because she exhaled a low breath, and he led her up the steps. After a moment, everyone stood from their seats and packed around the stage to see.

Which put several bodies between them and the ones they were supposed to guard. Zev glanced at Rawn and Lucenna as they all came to the same realization. They quickly moved through the throng in opposite directions, listening to the whispers and watching for movements.

“…look at her up there…”

“…our ancestors would weep with shame…”

“…wingless and ugly…”

“…that should be Lady Sarrai’s place…”

“…provincial in every way…”

Their hissed words stabbed Zev’s ears. He itched to take a bite out of each of them. But he continued moving, keeping an eye on his cousin and on the crowd.

“…no doubt she sought an advantageous match with the prince…”Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

“…of common stock…”

“…a scullery maid if I ever saw one…”

“…she’s enough to whet the appetite…”

He growled, turning to search for the male who said that. A hush went through the crowd as the servants snuffed all the candles except for one candelabrum on the table. Zev anxiously glanced at Dyna, but for once, she didn’t look afraid of the dark. She and Cassiel each took the thick tassels on either side of the curtains and pulled. The velvet fell away, exposing a massive window. Beyond it in the far distance, was the summit of the Hermon Mountains, already capped with snow. Within the range grew a Hyalus tree with sprawling branches.

The last of the fading sunset washed its silvery trunk and transparent leaves in a golden orange. Twilight arrived as the sun dropped behind the ridge. A glow started at the roots of the tree first, then it shot up the trunk to the branches, and the leaves burst with blazing light. A cheer of awe filled the room. The Hyalus glowed so bright it was as if the God of Urn had planted it from the seed of a star.

It was the first time Zev had seen it so radiant.

The light shot through the leaves, and they floated away into the night sky like a thousand wishes. Glittering blessings from the God of Urn.

“Her filth must not be permitted to defile the Realms.”

Zev whipped his head around. It was the same hissing voice from before. Rawn stopped on the other end of the crowd, catching it, too. Zev searched for Lord Gadriel but he was gone. So was Lady Sarrai.

“Their scourge must be cleansed,” the voice continued. “Their souls ripped away from existence.”

He was running now, hunting for whoever was speaking. Faces were shadowed. Bodies too cramped together. Zev wove his way through them, searching the obscure alcoves.

“If he awakens, his power will be the end of us all.”

“The lords are missing,” Rawn said urgently, appearing beside him.

“And so are the princes.”

Asiel and Malakel were nowhere in sight. Who was it then? Who was speaking? Zev spun in place, his eyes bouncing off hundreds of faces. His heart sped, sweat sprouting on his back. His distress was so great the room felt like it was closing in on him.

“Extinguish her and the Nephilim. Immediately.”

A horrible chill sank through Zev’s body. “They’re a target!” he shouted at Lucenna and Sowmya. “Get them out of here!”

The Valkyrie stormed the stage, startling Cassiel and Dyna. They dropped the tassels and the curtain fell over the window at the same time the candlelight was snuffed out, plunging them in pitch black darkness.

Then the screaming began.