Page 4 of Wraithwound

Frozen to the spot, Lena’s heart hammered in her chest. Every instinct in her body told her to run, to hide. A loud crack from branches nearby jolted her out of paralysis. Lena whipped her head around, turning in a circle as she looked for some place that might be safe.

She stood in the middle of the dirt road. The fork to her right led into the city while the other led past Dovia to Enora. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide, except⁠—

Once the second roar split the air, accompanied by the groan of trees being felled in the forest, she made her choice. Lena ran towards the abandoned city. Darkness loomed on the horizon, and she ran straight into its embrace.

Chapter

Five

Lena ran through the ornate metal gates that hung askew, open in silent welcome. The whorls and curls in the metal foretold of the convoluted twists and turns of the city streets, but instead of running toward the center of the city, she took a path to her immediate left. It was one thing to go in; she also had to ensure she could make it out.

Where is it? Where is it? Where is it? The thud of her boots echoed loudly on the onyx cobble stones, like a drum alerting to her location. Every step was agony; her failing strength leeched out with every gasping breath. The impending darkness absorbed the last of the sunlight and made her surroundings harder to see. But she hadn’t run into the city on a whim; Lena vaguely remembered learning of a sprawling manor that sat at the edge of the city. One of her favorite patients and a family friend, Ada, had told her about it long ago; it had its own separate entrance through the defensive wall. The King’s Master of Magic used it often to travel the realm looking for skilled magic users and artifacts. Ada had lived in the city for many years working as a tailor that specialized in garments made with opalsilk, but she’d left before the city fell.

This gamble would most likely end in certain death, as monsters had reportedly inhabited the city after it fell, but it seemed like the safest place to hide from whatever danger lurked beyond the gargantuan trees. A third roar split the air, and the ground shook, almost knocking her off her feet. Mere seconds later, a blast of energy exploded on the other side of the wall.

Magic.

Awe and terror struck her at once. Magic that wasn’t linked to the healing spring was incredibly rare. While there had once been those born with magical abilities in Reimar, they too were rare. Before his death, the King had hunted them to extinction. Or near extinction. Nobody knew for sure. There were always rumors about those who’d fled or hid to avoid capture.

Lena had only ever learned about Seers and Casters, abilities attributed to the ancestral lines of the Maiden, a woman who was blessed by the Goddess long ago. Currently, only one person was known to still hold magic, but nobody had ever met the sorcerer. His magic was said to be odd and dangerous. Not of the Goddess, the source of his power was unknown. It was he that created the soulbound soldiers and set them free upon the land to hunt down wraiths.

Just as Lena began to question the accuracy of her memories, an imposing structure rose up from the wilted earth. Constructed of roughhewn stone, the manor had a steep, pitched roof with multiple gables and chimney stacks. Its deep-set windows stared back at Lena like depthless, unblinking eyes. Crumbling pillars punctuated the entry way, kept upright only by the thick black vines that seemed to slither around them. Heavy oak doors, stained in the same shade of onyx, waited for her beyond them. The manor seemed to whisper to Lena, as if luring her inside.

She pulled herself over the low stone wall that surrounded the property. As she landed on the manor grounds, Lena’s initial panic started to fade and was slowly replaced by intrigue and curiosity. A sense of familiarity washed over her, a tugging in her gut that led her towards the front doors. Overgrown paths branched off the main one to other parts of the property. Distantly, she knew she should find a place to hide that was close to the wall, as that would give her the best chance of locating the exit, but her feet kept pulling her towards the main entry way of the manor.

Lena blinked. She didn’t remember arriving at the front door. A blast just beyond the city’s defensive wall had Lena reaching for the large decorative doorhandles. It took some effort, but she managed to tug the heavy doors open. The manor’s grandiose entryway greeted her; plush sitting room furniture and intricate wood paneling hinted at the immense wealth of those who’d lived here. A few family portraits still clung to the wall, the canvas damaged as if ink had been spilled onto them, but one of the paintings caught Lena’s attention. There was a young family oiled on canvas. The man’s face had been blotted out by the inky splotches along with one of the children, but the other two figures, the mother and the youngest son, were clearly visible. The woman with auburn hair cascading over a royal blue dress held him tightly. He looked familiar somehow, the young boy, until Lena realized it was a reflection of her grief. A mother with her youngest son. A depiction of those she missed so fiercely.

Lena wandered further into the manor, past a commanding fireplace built of stacked stone with a wooden mantel. In the next room, a partially shattered chandelier still hung from the ceiling, its tear-shaped crystals the color of smoke. She imagined that at one point, the undamaged crystals might have reflected the full spectrum of the sun into the room, bathing it in radiant light. A grand staircase filled the rest of the room like two elegant arms sweeping towards her, frozen in what would be a graceful embrace. They led to a large overhanging balcony where pieces of the intricately carved banister were missing.

But a glint of gold hidden in the shadows beneath the balcony caught her eye. Most of the hand-carved frame was black, but a small corner seemed to have retained its original luster. It was the same woman she’d seen before, but this time, she wore a haunted expression. Just as she was about to turn away, Lena noticed a gap in the paneling to her left. A small well-worn area to the side of the paneling suggested it might be a door. When she blinked, the door was open. Lena stepped back in horror. She didn’t remember opening the passageway. This was wrong. Something wasn’t⁠—

Her consciousness returned slowly, but her vision did not. Lena reached out, the darkness so impenetrable she couldn’t see, and was met cool damp stone on both sides . . . some sort of tunnel. Gradually, she felt movement return to her legs, fear flooding her body at the same time. Lena went to turn around but hesitated. Something was calling to her, a whisper she couldn’t quite make out, and then the feeling turned into a soft hand at her back pushing her onward. Then, for the second time, her world went black.

Chapter

Six

Lena woke to watery light streaming in from a long, rectangular window high above. Cold, hard stone bit into her cheek, and her body was so sore she could barely move. Her muscles screamed in protest as she got up, the musty air making it hard to breathe.

The chamber was covered in cracked stone blocks blanketed by a layer of dust. She couldn’t make out much of what lay at the far end of the space. There seemed to be an odd disturbance in her field of vision when she glanced over. Tears pricked her eyes as she took in the room around her and considered her circumstances. Lena didn’t want to think about how or why she’d ended up beneath the manor although a part of her suspected what had occurred. It was the same part of her that detected something foreign growing inside her, seeping into her consciousness. She knew one thing for sure; she’d spent the darkest hours of the night inside the fallen city.

“Are you okay?” a voice asked.

Startled, Lena backed into the shadows behind her, almost tripping when something brushed past her legs, but she recovered quickly. Scanning the area, she found there was a hand waving to her from across the room. Lena didn’t move. As her eyes continued to adjust, she realized there was a man pinned under a large block. It almost obscured him completely from sight.

He looked to be middle-aged and wore a long-sleeved linen shirt. He had brown eyes and brown hair cropped close to his scalp. Just like the space around them, he too was covered in a layer of fine dust. The man leaned against the wall behind him; his broad shoulders slumped.

“Who are you?” she rasped, her throat dry from disuse.

“I’m Leonid,” he whispered.

“That’s not what I meant⁠—”

Leonid held a finger to his mouth and pointed to a gaping hole at the far end of the room. From her position at the wall, she could see it clearly now. Lena took several steps away from it and moved closer to Leonid.

“I was here looking for something when the ground began to shake, and stones came loose from the walls,” he continued in a low tone, his hand gesturing to the cracks in the walls and missing pieces of stone.

Lena eyed him warily. Looters were known to enter the city in search of healing crystals or other valuables that had been left behind when the population was wiped out. Some got lucky, making a fair bit of coin, but others never returned, like her mother.