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I shook my head. Only the queen.

Lyra blanched. “Your mother controlled you?”

Elisabet of Dravenmoor no longer made much sense to me. Not after our interaction and the conflicting emotions of icy indifference and passionate devotion when speaking of her family.

She did. I held Lyra’s gaze. And I was not the first.

She tugged on the ends of her hair, glancing toward the window. “Emi mentioned you were not the first Skul Drek, but I did not realize the same person controlled them all. Who else?”

There are sagas and records of split souls over the centuries, but the only other one done at the hands of my mother was my father.

“The king? And you knew this?”

I didn’t for much of my time in Stonegate, but the more control I regained of my soul, the more memories were restored.

She nodded. “You know it was the same for me as well.”

Much like mine, Lyra’s memories of the raids and her past were shadowed. Hers were darkened by Nivek’s craft, mine because of the curse of a divided soul.

Now I remember knowing my father protected the fallen souls in a world we could not see with our eyes. I rose and took a place beside her on the bed. Since the first Jorvan king used soul bones for corruption, Draven folk have used soul craft to stop them. Most attempts came through forced bonds, usually during battles. Some soul craft can bind souls to souls. They are called soul weavers.

“How?”

I wore a grin with little humor in it. Bring a man to the brink of death, and he will give nearly anything to live a little longer.

“And these soul weaver bonds would keep them alive?”

For a moment. Forced bonds are not favored; they’re dangerous. To possess or overtake another soul is against Draven law. But it was an evil the clan believed necessary at the time. Most would command the bonded Jorvans to slaughter their own folk. Then soul weavers would release their souls, letting them die as they should’ve before.

“I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

Jorvans retaliated, I went on. To avoid soul weavers, they learned that by creating Berserkirs, not only would they have impenetrable warriors, but weavers could not bond with so many souls melded to one Berserkir.

Lyra drew her knees against her chest. “I think I understand. Because of the Berserkirs, Dravens needed to find a way to protect the souls of the fallen from being used. And they believed the answer was to split souls, even knowing the risks. It’s written plainly in Tales of the Wanderer what happens when a soul is split. Blood is claimed.”

Yes. I patted my neck over the scar that robbed me of my voice. It requires sacrificing something through the blood spilled to divide the soul.

“Did your mother know that using her craft in such a way was the answer? Or was it always a risk?”

Berserkirs were crafted before my father was king, but for seasons, Dravens scoured lore to find the answer and read about other divided souls. It was only after my father was king that they determined splitting souls again was a necessary risk.

“How convenient his wife was a soul render.”

I scoffed softly. I’m told some took it as a sign from the Norns.

“Why the king? Why not others?”

I once thought it was that because my mother and father had a soul bond, it was believed there would be less risk. But I am not sure any longer, for it shattered the bond. I cracked one knuckle before going on. I remember being told by my brother that our clan insisted on taking such a risk because we had to protect the strongest souls.

“You mean the Wanderer specifically.” Lyra’s voice was soft, but a bit of a thrill lived in her tone. As though she could not help but revel in the idea of learning more about a past we’d only begun to recall. “Skul Drek was the one who told me Damir was hunting the bones, which means you knew.”

I nodded. When you were lost after the raids, I was placed in Stonegate to await any hint you still lived. It was believed so fiercely that should you aid in the hunt of the bones, Damir would find them.

Lyra’s chin trembled. It seemed as though she held back words, likely the truth that I was placed in the Jorvan royal keep to kill her.

She cleared her throat and looked down at her fingernails. “When did the Dravens learn the truth about the Wanderer’s bones?”

I was only a boy. I stilled my hands for a moment. The truth would be another layer of mistrust for Lyra. Or perhaps it might give her clarity to every thread of wretched fate that tore apart both our lives. A seer woman from the Unfettered clans left the Night Ledges to speak to my father after she saw something horrid in the future of all clans.