Roark raked his fingers through his hair.My uncle discovered what we had done. Our people determined the prince was a traitor, and…slit his throat before he could even get a trial.
All gods. Bile burned on my tongue. An enemy prince saved me, then lost his life for it. “And you? They did this to you?”
My fingers gingerly touched the cursed scar.
My mother pled with the council to punish me another way. Used my youth as the bargaining chip. They agreed to split my soul, forced me to kill, until the lost melder was found again. They knew you were still alive. I wasn’t welcome to wait with my clan and was left at the gates of enemies. If I survived, if I proved myself, then I would earn a place in the clan again.
“And how were you supposed to prove yourself? I’ve seen you kill many Dravens.”
Roark let out a breath.I was to kill the lost melder when she was found.
It was as though a fist struck my throat, robbing me of breath. For a moment we were still, silent.
“But you didn’t.”
Roark shook his head.Before you ever reached Stonegate, I was planning to kill you, but I was already drawn to you. When the fara wolf was sent, I couldn’t let you die.
“Sent?” My voice cracked. “The wolf wassentto kill me?”
Yes. Roark studied his palms.The attacks came to the walls because I betrayed my folk again.
Because he didn’t kill me. The same as he’d done as a boy.
“Why were you not supposed to kill Fadey?” I asked. Roark’s soul had been divided while Fadey still served as the melder.
I had to learn to fight. The more blood I spilled as a Stav, the darker the soul became. Fadey was allowed to meld, so attacks would be leveled at Stonegate, to give me a chance for bloodshed.
“But you killed your own people.”
Roark’s face was twisted in bitterness.Ravagers are expendable. Thieves, rapists, traitors. To fight against the Stav is their trial. Survive, and they can return. Die, and their penance is paid. I didn’t mind killing them.
“I don’t know what to think,” I said, voice soft. “Did you know the darker soul spoke to me in the melder’s trance?”
No. Only a sense, at first. The more time went on, the more I recalled and was drawn to you.
“Did you truly have no control over the attacks after soul bones were taken?”
His fingers moved slowly.Control belonged to another. I gained more as time went on, but there was always a divide until this.
He waved a hand around at the trees.
Fate or something crueler had always been there, weaving my path with Roark Ashwood.
“How does”—I struggled to speak the name—“Skul Drek kill if it is a dark piece of a soul?”
Roark studied me, remorse in his eyes.By killing a soul.
By the gods. “How?”
I can attack piece by piece until a soul’s light flickers out and nothing but a husk is left behind for blades to finish.
“The soul bones shield against it, though, don’t they?” I thought back to the endless battle with the Berserkir. Only after the shield of soul bones split was it possible to destroy him.
Roark gave a stiff nod.
My head spun in endless questions. “Will those who controlled your darker soul retaliate, knowing they’ve lost you?”
Roark looked over his shoulder toward the cliffs in the North.We should make our way to the Night Ledges before we find out.
