Soul Song ~ Book One

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Six months passed before Dania could no longer withstand not seeing the Healers to inform them of Mirabella's tragic passing. During the wait for Quentin to no longer fully be dependent on a wet nurse for sustenance, Dania's soul helped control Quentin's even more childish soul. Every day, she wondered if his soul would be found out. While Dania's own soul still didn't forgive Dania for giving it up, it did seem to understand the need for Quentin's soul not to be discovered. For her part, Dania stayed in her room, avoiding all unnecessary contact.
With Quentin finally old enough, Dania sent a servant to deliver a message to Klellen that she, and Quentin would be communing with nature as she had done during her pregnancy. While Dania and Damien had kept their distance after Mirabella's death, Dania needed an Elder to go with her, and he was the only one she could trust.
The three of them were quiet as they made their way off the grounds. Once past the tree line, they could speak freely, but with the weight of their mission, none of them did. Quentin brought the occasional smile to Damien's face as he burbled at him, but even that couldn't keep Damien's grief at bay.
When they approached the clearing where Grandmother's hut stood, Grandmother's back was to them, but Evann's wasn't. He grunted, and gestured toward them, letting Grandmother know they were approaching. When she turned to them, tears streamed down her face.
"It's true, then."
"I'm so sorry..." Damien began before he sunk to his knees. Evann jumped to his feet, pulling Damien to his.
"Son, she knew the risk," he choked. Grandmother rose and joined her husband.
"Damien, child, come. Let's go in and I'll make tea." She gestured at Dania to follow, flashing a tight smile through drying tears. Like the matriarch she was, taking care of others overshadowed any feelings of her own. Evann settled Damien at the small table as Dania pulled a mat out for Quentin to play on. She quietly joined Grandmother to help make tea, never quite able to make eye contact with her. Dania's own guilt rivaled Damien's. Grandmother touched her palm to Dania's forearm, pulsing with a slight amount of Magiks. The pulse threatened to undo her resolve not to cry in front of Quentin.
"No," she pulled her arm away. "I can't. Quentin..."
Grandmother nodded, turning with the tea to the men. "Here then, take a sip of this, Damien. You'll feel a little better." Dania caught the glance Evann gave his wife as she poured a cup. She wondered what Grandmother made the tea with. She wasn't as versed in herbals as Mirabella had been, and couldn't recognize it from the smell.
Damien took a few sips of the tea as Grandmother joined them at the table. Keeping where she could see Quentin as he played, Dania sat as well. Grandmother offered her the tea, but Dania declined. She needed to keep her steel, and couldn't risk the relaxation she watched creep into Damien's face. Any loss of calm would concern Quentin and send him into a crying fit. Up to this point, Dania only cried for her friend twice, learning very quickly she couldn't around her son.
"How?" Grandmother quietly asked Dania.
"Lucas, he took her soul. All of it," Dania murmured.
"All?" Evann echoed.
"I don't know the details of it. She was summoned to see Klellen while I slept, the day after Quentin came. I awoke to Lyla changing my bedding. I had no inkling what happened. When I went to breakfast, Lucas...he..." Dania stopped.
"He has a crystal with her entire soul in it," Damien growled. "No one takes an entire soul, save me." He pounded his fist on the table. "Why did he take all of it?" Evann placed a large hand on Damien's back, pushing the tea toward him with his other hand. "I don't want any more tea," Damien snarled. "It won't bring her back."
"No, boy, it won't. But drink it anyway," Evann returned, surprisingly gently. "What of her body? Was she returned to nature?"
Dania shook her head. Damien shook his, but not out of ignorance. "No one knows what Jerum did with it. He refused to tell me, and I couldn't press it out of fear he would out me." Damien hung his head. "I should have let him. If I could at least know where her body is, I could do that much right by her."
Dania laid her hand over his fist, squeezing it.
"Let me see that baby," Grandmother motioned to Dania, and they both moved over to where Quentin was chewing on a cloth. Grandmother picked the chubby baby up, holding him above her, grinning up at him. There was a moment when her smile faltered, but she recovered quickly, bringing him to cuddle close.
That evening, they met with the other Healers for the mourning ceremony. Dania and Quentin joined Grandmother and the other Healers, adding Dania's power to the circle. Evann and Damien sat behind the circle. As the singing began, the eldest among them tossed herbs into the fire in the center. Smoke rose, smelling of pine and lavender. Before reaching the first refrain, souls of Healers began appearing. While many came, all knew Mirabella would not be one of them. As Healers arrived, the song deepened with added voices.
One Healer soul approached Dania specifically. She knelt, placing two fingers on Quentin's forehead to which he was quiet for a moment until the Healer removed her fingers. He grinned, turning to Dania, and patted her on the cheek.
"It's alright daughter. He knows. You may mourn."
Dania smiled sadly at her son as she allowed the tears to come. His suddenly serious face watched hers as the tears flowed, but he didn't join her. Turning him to face her, she held him tightly as she cried. Dania had no idea how long the ceremony lasted, minutes, maybe hours, but by the time it did, she was emotionally exhausted. By the look of the others, they were as well. Quentin was still wide-eyed, and showed no signs of sleepiness. A young Healer sent a tendril of Magiks around his head, making it dance for him. He chortled as he tried to snatch it. Other Healers joined in, creating shapes to make him laugh.
Evann moved over to where he was seated right behind Grandmother, and to the side of Dania. Placing his palm on his wife's shoulder, he piggy-backed his weaker Magiks on Grandmother's Magiks. Little blue animals raced around the cleared middle of the hut. But, rather than make Quentin laugh, his eyes sharply focused on them. One pudgy little hand reached out as a blue fox pranced over, curling up on his palm.
Late into the evening, Dania slept with Quentin as Luan and Evann sat in the quiet. Evann's short pipe sent out little puffs of smoke as Luan worked on sewing by the firelight. Wrinkling her new, Luan looked at Evann and his pipe.
"Must you always smoke that vile thing?"
"It's not always, only on occasion," Evann grunted in return, his mouth quirking with mild amusement.
"Often enough," she grumbled as she used her teeth to break the thread. Evann snorted, turning his attention to Dania's back.
"Do you see it?"
"What?" Luan asked as she rethreaded her needle.
"When you look at the boy, when I use my Magiks, do you see what I see?"
Luan was silent, seemingly engrossed in the shirt she was repairing.
"You know something, don't you? What aren't you telling me, Luan?"
A single tear rolled down her cheek as she stabbed the needle in.
"What is it? Come Luan, this is no time for secrets."
She wiped her eyes. "Some things are better left alone, Evann."
"It must be serious. You used my name instead of an insult." Evann put his pipe on the ground, close to the fire, and took hold of Luan's hands to stop the incessant stabbing of her needle. "Tell me, Luan."
Luan closed her eyes, and sighed. Opening her eyes, she stared at Dania's sleeping back. "She doesn't understand. Mirabella did, but Dania doesn't."
Evann glanced at Dania. "What's that?"
"Quentin is the child Mirabella carried. The Magikal lines are skewed. Dania wasn't meant to survive the plague. Yes, I see it. He is the spitting image of Mirabella and Damien. I see it all too well. I can only hope that when things are righted, if they are ever righted, that will be one of those things that corrects itself."
Evann nodded in agreement. "I thought his eyes were an odd color. Almost as if...as if blue were behind the brown."
They quieted as Dania shifted in her sleep. In truth, Dania was awake and heard the better portion of their conversation. She only stirred because she wanted to hear no more. It was all so confusing, yet made sense as well. But, if she was to have died at the age of nine, and they were to correct what Klellen had done, would that mean she'd be a rotting corpse now? Before Quentin, she would have welcomed that end. But now...She had to live for him. She desperately wanted to be a wonderful mother. And, Quentin needed a mother. Mirabella is gone, and Dania is not. Tightening her hold on Quentin, Dania squeezed her eyes shut. She didn't want to think about this anymore.
In the morning, Grandmother and Evann created a crystal disk to help Quentin focus his soul. While it was white like hers, his reflected every color of the rainbow. Tucking it into his clothes, she only mildly worried it would be discovered. Other than the wet nurse who continued to give him milk, Dania was the only other person in the castle she allowed near him. Lucas had no interest, as he wasn't a 'special' child of the Change.
Three years passed without incident toward Quentin. Dania kept him close at all times. Mostly because she loved him, but he also proved an effective shield against Lucas. Occasionally, he would make subtle overtures toward her, which she quickly dashed by allowing her full hatred of him to show in her eyes. She didn't need Magik empathy to feel his anger building in him. He avoided making eye contact whenever she was near, and at mealtimes, he acted as though she didn't exist. Klellen and Lyla must have noticed, but never mentioned it.
One afternoon as Dania sat quietly in front of the window of the study embroidering, Lucas entered. He paused a moment before settling in a chair to read in less-than-decent light. While he had the sight of a Changed One, it was still less light than even they would need. Dania felt a slight pang of sorrow for their marriage. She would never be able to have the man she wanted. One who loved her, and cared for her and their child. She was forever bonded to the man who killed Mirabella, and took her own life from her. Still...
"Husband," she ventured, "would not the light be better over here, by the window?"
Startled, Lucas looked up from his book. His heart sped as he stared, wide-eyed at her. Jumping to his feet, he crossed the room in record time. Dania's brows raised at his speedy approach. She noted he left his book on the chair.
"Husband, is it not easier to read a book, by holding it in your hands?" She cringed slightly at his nearness. She hadn't meant, not this time, to show him anger, and hatred. She only wanted...she didn't know what she wanted, or expected to have happen when she invited him to sit near her. Maybe a peaceful moment of him reading and her sewing, sharing the light. His eyes narrowed at her.
"You call me to you," he gritted out, "you want me to share your space with you, and yet, when I respond to your invitations, you shrink from me. Why? Why do you call to me, and then shrink from me? Am I so hideous? Am I so undesirable? So many other village women would love to be my wife, and yet, here I am, living with the coldest creature ever created!" Had he recently fed, his face would have flushed in anger with the borrowed blood. The flash in his eyes was enough.
"Yes," Dania snarled. "Yes, you are so undesirable, so hideous. Who else in this house walks around with the soul of the most important person in my life, save a precious few others? Who else took a life without provocation? Who else murders so quickly, and easily? Yes, the other Elders follow suit, and do these things and worse. But you are my husband! I deserve better than that! I deserve a wonderful man who would lay his own life down before he would harm another!" Tears of anger flooded Dania's face.
"So, it comes out. I am not good enough for you!" Lucas exploded. "I, who has loved you from the moment I saw you as a child. I, who has watched over you all our lives, and waited for you to grow old enough so I could covenant with you for all time and eternity. I do things I would rather not do, it is true, but we are at war! Horrible things happen during war. It can't be helped!"
"War? With whom? The Healers?" Dania spat. "They would not war with the Elders if the Elders would not continually take the Healers' lives! If they would return to the old ways, and be as they once were, there would be no war. Why? Why did you choose me over all the other village girls? Why not one of them to be your affectionate, warm wife, and have left me with my true love?"
In a flash, Lucas was on top of her, pinning her down. "You dare speak of him to me?" he growled. "You are my wife! You should be loyal to me, and only me! And yet, still, you harbor feelings for a dead boy."
"Loyalty?" Dania scoffed. "You, who killed my love, my closest friend, and hold her soul within your tunic? What do you know of loyalty?"
Lucas raised his hand to slap Dania, then stopped, staring at his wife. Dania flinched, expecting the blow. He'd never hit her before, but nothing he might do would surprise her. After a moment, he put his hand down, and released her.
"What do you know," he said quietly. "You are just a stupid female that can't even give birth to a proper child." He pulled the crystal from inside his shirt, and looked at it as if he held a little bird in his hand. "Mirabella resides within this crystal, and will reside there forever more, feeding me energy no other crystal holding mere essence is capable of." Dropping the crystal, he spun around, and stalked out of the study.
Stunned and furious, Dania tried to return to her embroidery. She managed one stitch before stabbing the needle deeply into her thumb. Crying out, she jerked away to see the damage done. She furrowed her brow as she took in the gelatinous substance oozing from the hole in her thumb. She hadn't fed since she was Changed, and had no blood of her own. She'd never seen what pumps through the hearts of Changed Ones before. Within the ooze, shiny things darted around, reflecting silver in the sunlight. It would have been beautiful if it didn't remind Dania of what she was. Unable to bring herself to suck on her thumb, she wiped it on her skirt. Looking at it again, the wound was already healed.
Late that night, Lucas met with Jerum in an oft unused passageway. The evil man slithered in the dim light as he approached Lucas.
"Good eve, M'Lordling," Jerum hissed through sharp teeth.
"Sheath your daggers, Elder, I have no quarrel with you...yet." In the near darkness, Lucas watched as the man's teeth slowly shortened to a more normal length.
"I live, but to serve." Jerum bowed almost mockingly at Lucas.
"Enough. You know information I would have."
Jerum adopted an innocent expression, a difficult feat for such as he. "My Lord would have information of me? Pray tell, what sort of information would I have that needs to be disseminated in darkened hallways?"
Lucas growled as he snatched Jerum's robes, pushing him to the wall to pin him by his neck.
"My patience runs thin, filth. I will not tolerate your games. Tell me that which I want to know, before I remove that useless head of yours."
Panting, Jerum's fingers tested the hand holding him tightly to see if he could easily work himself loose. When he found he couldn't he didn't pull away, rather, he tapped his fingertips on Lucas' fingers. "I would be careful, young son of the Highest Elder. Although you are his son, you are lacking in qualities that would make you invaluable. I do not think Klellen would mourn your passing as much as you think he might."
Lucas dug his fingers into Jerum's neck. The bones and flesh protested quietly to Lucas, but screamed to Jerum. "I don't think anyone will mourn your passing, snake. I'm not certain any would even notice your absence."
"Ah...save one. One who favors me despite her vows to another." Jerum swallowed hard past Lucas' hand.
"You think my wife desires you?" Lucas barked out laughter. "You, a vile, mangy half man, half beast? Oh, don't think I don't know your activities outside the House," he said, when Jerum's eyes flicked up to his. "I am well aware of the darkness that follows you, and consumes the creatures of the forest. A pity you are just a disgusting pervert. Your talents might have been useful."
"Useful enough that you would trap me in these dim passageways, and threaten my life," Jerum chuckled. "She would lie with me before she would lie with her own husband."
"You would want to speak before I remove your head from upon your shoulders. It might make me spare your life. Maybe." Lucas tightened his grip on Jerum's neck, bones snapping under the skin.
"I will speak. Ask," Jerum gasped through a nearly fully closed throat.
"I want to know the name of the Elder who mated with the Healer, Mirabella."
"Oh, heh, that's all?"
"For now."
Jerum glared into Lucas' eyes for a moment. "It is he with the mirrored eyes."
Lucas narrowed his eyes in thought. "Name him."
"The one they call Damien."
"Are you certain? If you lie, worm..."
"No, no, I don't lie. This is the man you seek. Do you plan to tell Klellen?"
"In due time." Lucas eased up on Jerum's throat, just to push harder on it, snapping more tiny neck bones. "Until then, I expect you to keep your flapping jaw closed, else you would like for me to remove it."
Jerum shook his head as far as Lucas' hand would allow. Lucas dropped his hand, turning away from him.
"Whatever pleases my Lord, pleases me," Jerum wheezed.
Lucas turned to look at him. "How is it you are more animal-like than all other Changed Ones? What gives you the power to change yourself into near animal shapes?"
"Why, whatever do you mean, M'Lord? Never would I keep such secrets from one such as you." Jerum bowed before turning on his heel, and running away to who knows where. Lucas decided it wasn't worth following him, and instead focused on his newly gained information.
Jerum ran down to his chambers in the bowels of the House. Just outside his door he stood, rubbing his sore neck, feeling the broken bones knitting themselves together. He didn't like being threatened. He hated that Healer, and even more Damien, and had been instrumental in her death. He could only hope to do the same for Damien.
"Charish, my little one, daddy is home," Jerum called out as he opened his door. A waif of a girl looked at him with pitiful, dull, green eyes. Charish was a full-blooded Healer, and she was Jerum's true daughter.
Years before, a Healer had the misfortune of her Magiks being attracted to Jerum's. While Jerum was known to be strange, and possibly a little dark in the mind, she hoped her Magiks could reach him, and change his dark ways. She had been so very wrong. Understanding there would be a child of the union, Jerum took full advantage of the situation.
Nine months Jerum waited. Nine months he calmed his wilder urges to keep the Healer satisfied. He couldn't remember her name anymore, if he ever knew it. He could remember the moment he took her life after the child came. He remembered using a crystal, long before Klellen knew anything about them, to capture her essence. The knowledge of which, he imparted to Damien.
To keep the child from being discovered, he Magikally removed her voice. She grew, never knowing how her own voice would sound. With the help of the creature he gave Mirabella's body to, he experimented with her, trying to remove her power purely, rather than the muddled way Klellen had.
It was years before his experimentation came to fruition. He was able to siphon off a portion of her power, making him stronger, faster, and his senses more keen. What he also found, to his chagrin, was that it also made him more bestial. His appetite, which was already more than normal, now became voracious. He found that hunting was easier, but he was also more vicious. At first, it disgusted him. But, he quickly found uses for his new senses. Often, when Elders were speaking out of normal, or Changed hearing range, he overheard delicious tidbits of information he delighted in using against the others. Nothing gave him more pleasure than to destroy those around him.
As the years passed, Jerum siphoned more power from Charish. She grew up sickly, and paler than a human should be. He was always careful to keep her alive so her Magiks would regenerate. In the process, though, it caused her Healer's eyes to never spark the way they had when she was born. With the Magiks weakened, he never had to fear her using them on him.
"My dear, did you miss me? I would have been home sooner, but I had a run in with that nasty Lucas. Can you believe he threatened me?" He shook his head as though dumbfounded. Charish looked at him with her dull, wide eyes. In the past, if she didn't pay attention to his ramblings, he punished her. She always paid attention.
Glancing around, he saw the Mirabella imposter wasn't there. There was, however, soup. She may not have much intelligence at her disposal, but she was a capable cook. Jerum occasionally mused that he could have made a decent penny off her, if he'd wanted to marry her off. She truly did have a talent for cooking.
"I see you've made dinner. Very delightful of you. Now, I'm tired, and I want to eat and go to bed. Scurry off to your hidey hole, and leave me be.
Charish nodded, disappearing as quickly as she was able.