Ryc, smiling, peers down at me. “I’d say it’s very much alive.” There’s a teasing gleam in his eyes I don’t quite understand.
Across the courtyard, the creature warbles.
Like it’s laughing.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Over the courseof the following days, my mind spirals around questions, around the crystal, around theintentoffracturingmy soul. And as much as I want to, I can’t bring myself to touch it a second time.
The destruction once caused was enough.
I’m still trying to decipher the fractured images and grasp the meaning of the overwhelmingrage.
The places are unfamiliar—except for the last—the one where I sawmyself. I’ve no doubt that was the library of the hells.
But whose eyes did I view through?
Were those memories? Were they mine?
Or were they those of the other half of my soul?
I’ve a harvest of questions and a drought of answers.
Overwhelmed and rendered numb by the recent discovery, I opted to have the obsidian box locked away. Below in the stronghold. It sits guarded, behind several wards, and in the same cell as Thalion’s soul crystal,Fated Celestials, and the glamouring ring.
Now knowing what it is, I don’t like being parted from it—from me. But until I find a solution, it’s safer there than in my wardrobe.
And my twisted mind understands thewhy—to a degree.
The necromantic practice of soul fracturing is common. It’s used to gain control over a mortal’s soul, making them easier to command. But it’s done posthumously, rendering the soul incapable of sustaining or reanimatingthe mortal body of aperson. That doesn’t mean the fragments lack a use. They’re placed in the flesh of a deceased animal—a crow, a snake, a cat—anything capable of observing unnoticed.
These unfortunate souls are known ascall creatures.
They serve as a necromancer’s eyes and ears in places they cannot or dare not be.
Netharis is no necromancer.
And I am no call creature.
Control Netharis already had—my contract encompassed more than I realized, orremembered. Why fracture my soul? I would imagine the blood magic spells required to maintain a fractured soul are costly. Would Netharis pay that price?
And if so, why?
I assume Netharis is the one responsible for fracturing my soul.
I’m not sure who else it could be.
Which plunges me into waters I’ve no idea how to navigate, and burdens me with questions I don’t know how to go about answering. To make matters worse, the veilflowers in the courtyard…
They have to be a result of the tear in the veil.
News of the new courtyardgardenripped through Ollora faster than hellfire. And despite the warnings, the danger they pose, people have been coming in droves to see the beauty of the otherworldly flowers for themselves.
I stare through the tall window of the fourth floor.
They come still.
Hardly sunrise and a crowd has amassed before the protective ward near the courtyard entry. Cyran and a dozen other royal guard stand between the curious spectators, keeping them well away from the ward. The people edge as close as possible while staying out of reach of the guard.
