Prologue
“No bond can be completely broken, certainly not one between two beings whose souls are destined to be together. But it can be replaced, causing immense suffering to the individual whose soul is torn.” — The Queen of Secrets, Spymaster
Nylus peered into the darkness and rain as he leaned against a thick-trunked tree, wiping water from his brow. Lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the dark night. He pulled the rope from his belt, gliding his shaky hands along it. They wouldn’t shake much longer, not once he delivered Zandravéa to the witches. She was the reason for his trembling muscles, why he suffered delusions and night terrors. Why his family had him locked away as an embarrassment.
He raised his free hand and gripped the enchanted obsidian stone he wore on the chain around his neck, hoping it would calm his trembling hands and provide strength.
The heavy rain suddenly stopped above him, flashing with muted thuds against a clear dome surrounding him. Nylus looked up, raising a hand to feel the dome blocking the rain, but his hand passed through.
“She will be out to fetch water soon,” a deep male voice said.
Nylus jolted upright, dropping the rope and crashing his head into the low branch above him. “Who are you?” he demanded, rubbing his sore head.
“Eisyr,” the tall stranger replied, lifting his hand to where Nylus gripped the side of his head.
Nylus jerked away, trembling and uncertain what this man could want. “Don’t—” but something about this man was unlike anyone else he had come across. The man smiled warmly, the way Nylus imagined a kind father would.
“Why are you concerned?” Nylus asked.
“It is not difficult for me to spot someone suffering from a torn soul,” Eisyr replied. The next arc of light that lit the dark skies brought into view the middle aged man’s white hair and frosty blue eyes. “Or the Vampyre Knights lurking in the trees behind us.”
“Vampyre Knights?” Nylus asked. He wiped his wet hair from his forehead as he studied the darkness. Too dark to see the trees, let alone anything lurking beyond them. The clear dome that shielded them from rain seemed to alter to view the darkness with varying shades of grey. Massive trees and lighter colored figures in the shape of two tall men were revealed in the distance. An alarming sight to Nylus. Have they been there previous nights?
“Those are vampyre warriors, nasty and cruel beings that hunt the talis of magical creatures.” Eisyr paused. “Fret not, they cannot sense us under this veil.” He turned and pointed across the path into the darkness. “The one hiding across the way is a corrupt vampyre emperor who has been hunting you and the young servant girl.”
Nylus’ attention followed Eisyr’s hand to the light grey features of an even larger Vampyre Knight standing next to a tree. “Hunting me?” he said low.
“Employing the corrupt witches who have offered to assist you in locating Zandravéa.”
“The witches are the ones who helped me find her and gave me this amulet,” Nylus replied, clasping the obsidian stone tight.
“Helped you?” The man huffed. “You think that black stone you cling to is helping you?” The man reached to the necklace that protected Nylus. It was the reason he could think coherently and didn’t fear closing his eyes at night for the terrors that awaited in his dreams.
Nylus pushed Eisyr’s hand away before an inexplicable calm overcame him. Staring at the manor home, he didn’t object as the stranger removed the black stone from his neck. Agony and terrifying hauntings clouded his thoughts, the monstrous Vampyre Knights’ presence clawing at his mind.
“They’re—” Nylus started, too terrified to speak of the vampyre knights that had turned to towering wraiths that would capture him. The world crowded him and he struggled to breathe through the panic and loss of balance.
“They’re Corrupters.” Eisyr caught him and held out another stone to Nylus’ trembling hand. The torment passed and his hand no longer shook. He gasped for breath and sank back against the tree.
“Put it on,” Eisyr ordered.
Nylus didn’t object. And the relief he felt when the stone slid beneath his tunic and rested on his chest felt like a heavy weight had been lifted.
“Zandravéa’s ability to spot corrupters has passed to you, but it is mixed with delusions caused by your torn connection to her,” Eisyr said.
Another arc of lightning flashed across the sky as Nylus glanced down at the item Eisyr had gifted him, revealing a clear, teardrop shaped amulet humming with talis energy. Enough magic at his fingertips to control the unwanted thoughts and trembles.
Eisyr continued, “The witches merely placed a beacon on you and made you believe you were being provided relief. You have led your own enemies to a prize they seek.”
Nylus’ grip on the new stone tightened, providing additional calm to block his anger for the wrongs the witches had committed. But this servant girl was no prize. Finding someone to eliminate his connection to her would rid his need for any trinket.
“I should capture her, before they do,” Nylus focused his attention toward the door Zandravéa would be exiting soon.
“You’ve no plan. I assure you a Vampyre Knight is stronger than you.” He paused and sighed. “Even if you were to capture her, how could you escape with a frightened child?”
“I can, and I will find someone to break this connection so I feel whole,” Nylus scoffed. It was the only way for him to be whole. Even with the trinket, something still felt void within him. A need he couldn’t place.
A long silence settled between them before Eisyr directed Nylus’ attention to an approaching knight clad in black who passed only inches from the domed veil concealing them. Once the knight passed, Eisyr spun and jerked him into the veil. The vampyre’s longsword flared as it slashed in Nylus’ direction. Nylus ducked, missing the blade. After wrestling the thrashing vampyre to the ground, Eisyr stabbed him in the chest with an obsidian dagger.
Nylus stared down to the corpse, biting his lower lip and gripping the stone Eisyr had gifted to him.
Eisyr took a moment to exhale, seeming to relish a good kill as he tilted his head up to Nylus. “You do not understand. Zandravéa was born with a paired bond to you. You suffer because of what dark witches did to that bond. Would you take her to the source of your torment? To the same people who caused it?” Eisyr crouched and leaned over the vampyre to inspect his weapons belt. “Only in her death will your bond be broken. Do you wish her dead?”
Nylus sighed, defeat weighing his expression. He didn’t want her dead, only her connection to him broken.
“Then let her lead us to the ones more deserving of your vengeance. I will help you—” Eisyr wiped essence from his face with his arm, small dagger in hand “—if you agree to help me.”
Nylus only took a moment of thought before saying, “I agree.” He knelt to help Eisyr remove the vampyre’s weapons, grunting as he struggled to roll the beastly man’s body on its side.
“Give me your hand if you accept my offer.” Eisyr stood and stepped behind where Nylus knelt.
Nylus straightened and raised his right hand, then pulled it back, a wary stare directed up to Eisyr. How could he be certain this wasn’t also a trick.
Eisyr grabbed Nylus’ hand and slid a soul ring onto his thumb then pulled him by the neck and sunk fangs into his throat. Paralysis took over before Nylus could struggle and he sank into Eisyr’s hold, staring at the grey shape of the corrupt vampyre emperor across the path.
Eisyr poured essence from his palm into Nylus’ mouth. The connection to Eisyr flowed into Nylus, slow at first, still unable to move as his vision and perception of his surroundings came into focus. A new energy began to surge, causing a rush of adrenaline as he regained control of his limbs.
“Now you shall share my strength,” Eisyr said, stepping around Nylus to lift the dead vampyre’s obsidian sword.
Nylus studied the long blade before Eisyr pointed to another towering knight searching the darkness. “Kill him.”
Nylus felt the terror of attempting to battle with a sword. He may have practiced, but he had never held a sword steady enough to successfully attack anyone. “I—”
“Have never been able to hold a sword steady.” Eisyr completed Nylus’ statement. “But do not doubt your ability any longer.”
Nylus stared at the long sword, shocked that it did not shake in his grip. Still, he had no notion how to wield it. He glanced to the ghostly figure of varying colors of grey whose back was to them.
“You thrust it into the vampyre,” Eisyr said.
Twirling the talisman with one hand, he stared at the vampyre, sword held low. He wouldn’t even know where to strike.
“What do you see, child?” Eisyr asked calmly. “How can this blade take him down?”
Nylus could make out the shapes clearly. There were large strips in the armor exposed in the back. “I go for one of those wide slits in his back.”
Eisyr huffed. “Do you even know what those are for?”
His brother’s black armor had similar slits in the back. “Wings,” Nylus mumbled, despising his older brother who had the steadiness and ability to earn wings of courage and wield a sword.
“And what happens if they eject while that blade is sinking through?”
The thought of how wings may eject had never crossed Nylus’ mind. “I suppose they would be cut by the sword.”
“Don’t suppose anything when a sword is involved.” Eisyr extended his arm and pointed toward the knight. “Should those wings erupt, and they will if anything penetrates that area, you will be knocked backward.”
Nylus nodded, still studying the vampyre.
“Not to mention that you will be off balance or on the ground when the blade tips swing out at you, and almost all vampyres have blade extensions on the tips of their wings.”
Nylus gripped the talisman tighter, eyeing the vampyre. “His neck, under the arm, or above the hip.” The only areas that seemed to have an opening in the armor large enough to ram a sword through.
Silence fell between them before Nylus finally cast a questioning glance to Eisyr.
“Let’s creep closer,” Eisyr said and they caught up behind the knight. “Well, go on.” Eisyr motioned as though shooing him away.
“Wont the other one know?” Nylus asked. Across the way, the vampyre emperor by the tree stood motionless.
“Not a problem, you just go for this vampyre right in front of you.”
Swallowing, Nylus gripped the hilt with both hands. He stepped forward as the vampyre turned. He lost his nerve, stepping backward again.
“Do it now!” Eisyr ordered.
Nylus thrust the sword hard at the vampyre, the blade sliding along the armor. A loud whoosh and then large, blade tipped wings erupted from the knight who spun and swiped at Nylus.
Nylus dodged and rolled onto his back.
The vampyre spun and thrust the blade-tip of his wing down, grazing Nylus’ ear as it sank into the wet ground.
Nylus froze, but only for a moment before raising onto a knee and grabbing the sword. The vampyre thrust an elbow to Nylus’ face, knocking him onto his back.
Dread filled Nylus as the vampyre knight towered above him. He winced at the grind of the sword being unsheathed.
Eisyr swept in and sank a blade through the vampyre’s back. The huge body of the knight crashed onto Nylus, but he was surprised how easily he pushed it off.
“Just how did you plan to escape with that girl in tow?” Eisyr knelt and grabbed a long, black dagger from the dead vampyre’s weapons belt, tossing it up to Nylus.
Nylus fumbled, slicing his hand as he caught the sharp blade.
“We will—work on your skills,” Eisyr said before standing.
Disappointment weighed on Nylus. Embarrassment that he had failed. But Eisyr placed a hand over Nylus’ shoulder and squeezed. Something Nylus’ own father would never have done for him.
Light shown in their peripheral vision and a young girl stepped out into the darkness.
“Come.” Eisyr led the way. “Near the river where she will be gathering water.”
Nylus stopped, “How…”
Eisyr turned. “As I said, a torn soul is easily spotted by anyone who knows what to look for. I could not let an unknowing adolescent fall prey to corrupt vampyres.” Eisyr glanced in the direction of Zandravéa, who strode toward them with a bucket in each hand.
“No one would ever help me,” Nylus said, even the dark witches had only been tricking him. What did this man want?
“I had a son once.” Eisyr smiled weakly. “You both would have liked one another.” Eisyr and Nylus strode undetected to the river’s edge. Another flash of lightning lit the night.
A calm flooded Nylus as Zandravéa drew near. One that had all worry cast aside and he watched her, uncertain what to make of this sensation.
“It is the bond you share that makes you feel so connected. But right now she is in danger.”
“Then we should get her now.” Nylus took a step forward, but Eisyr grabbed his arm.
“This isn’t one of those weaker vampyres we took down. We make a wrong move and we are both dead and he gets her.” Eisyr released Nylus’ arm.
Zandravéa dropped the buckets at the river’s edge only feet from where Nylus and Eisyr stood in wait. Wiping aside wet hair, she knelt with a bucket in the rushing water, oblivious to the danger of the vampyre emperor who walked toward her.
Nylus’ heart began to race in his chest. He couldn’t risk this vampyre abducting her.
“Not yet,” Eisyr said.
The broad vampyre stepped behind her and she turned, her head not even reaching his chest. His hand extended and she took it. No one would accept the hand of such a formidable looking man they didn’t know.
“They’re empaths?” Nylus asked. What else could explain a stranger entrancing someone to be so trusting?
“The best empaths usually are vampyres,” Eisyr’s reply was followed by a long pause. “I will go for the vampyre, you just make sure to get her.”
Nylus nodded.
Eisyr rushed and leapt at the vampyre whose wings erupted. A roar of thunder silenced Zandravéa’s scream as she broke from the daze.
The vampyre gripped her waist and took flight in a quick attempt to escape as Eisyr’s black blade pierced his shoulder.
Nylus rushed toward the girl, grasping her body as the vampyre went flying sideways.
they crashed into the swift waters.
Nylus surfaced, clinging to the low-hanging limbs of trees as he searched the river for her.
A long stretch of lightning shot across the sky, revealing her pale dress downstream. He pushed into the sweeping current and grasped her arm, clutching her to him before slamming into a craggy boulder that caught them.
Nylus clung to a low limb and cast her up onto the bank before being swept into the waters again. Wings sprouted from his back unexpectedly, tangling in large tree limbs and bowing with strain as he clawed his way from the water and onto a fallen tree. He almost fell back into the rushing water while attempting to yank the entangled wings free, but he climbed to the safety of the river’s edge, panting and wincing from his injuries.
Rushing over to where Zandravéa lay, he pulled her limp body away from the bank and onto the grass. One of his new wings fluttered uncontrollably as he dragged her up further and propped himself against a tree with her shoulders on his lap.
Essence rolled her forehead, pink and mixed with rain. It was his own gash dribbling onto her.
The shrieks of the battle between Eisyr and the vampyre could be heard through the downpour.
Another bolt of lightning blasted nearby—this one so close the ground quaked. He pulled her higher on his lap.
This wasn’t a night he could have prepared for. Nor could he have expected her touch to sweep calm through him. He had to protect her. He couldn’t consider allowing a witch near her knowing they served corrupters.
Eisyr returned, kneeling beside Nylus. He held a hand to her neck. “She’s just unconscious.”
“My goal was not to harm her.” Nylus wiped his forehead of the essence and water leaking onto Zandravéa.
“Not directly,” Eisyr said as he raised a veil, blocking the rain and hiding the light he cast within. “But you know the witches didn’t have good intentions for her.”
Nylus thought better than responding. He had no other choice than to go to the witches. His entire life he suffered the connection he couldn’t make sense of.
Eisyr leaned down, feeling her neck. “The venom in a vampyre’s talon is toxic, but it is the only thing that can weaken the dark bindings you both suffer.” Eisyr held out a small clear teardrop talisman. “Place this over her neck and exchange your essence with her as I exchanged mine with you.”
Nylus took the talisman and guided it over her hair, making sure not to catch it in tangles.
Eisyr leaned forward and grabbed Nylus’ hand, piercing his palm in a talis node. Pure, sparkling talis power pushed out.
Nylus wouldn’t have thought himself capable of producing such an amount of magic harnessing talis. It must be the bond to Eisyr causing this. He placed his palm against her mouth.
“Nothing is happening.” Nylus couldn’t bear the torment of waiting.
“Her dark bindings are being stripped away.” Seeming unconcerned, Eisyr stepped behind Nylus, extending one of his new wings. “It is most unfortunate to gain wings of courage and never get to fly.” Eisyr stroked a wing that spasmed in response. “Broken at the tip.”
For Nylus, new wings would be yet another curse. How much could this child he had never met cause him to suffer? They would be another failure to be ridiculed for by his family. Despite his need to hate her, he couldn’t. Especially not now, knowing the danger she may be in.
A spark shown in the jewel on Zandravéa’s neck.
“She is awakening,” Eisyr said.
Flickers of gold shown in Zandravéa’s irises as she blinked awake. Nylus’ matching talisman dangled over her face, sparking and energized.
She reached up and touched the jewel hanging from the chain on his neck, sending a surge of energy and flames through it. Her gaze trailed to Nylus’ eyes then upward to the gash on his forehead. Essence still rolled down to the tip of his nose and dripped onto her. Her hand lifted to the spot.
He jerked his head back, unnerved at being touched by this girl he had once detested. He relaxed, seeing confusion in her expression.
She reached up to touch him again.
Nylus’ chest quivered, and heat filled his cheeks. The contact mended the wound, the venom filled slashes, and all the way back to the tips of his twitching wings. But before a word could be spoken, her hand fell and she lost consciousness. The talisman on her neck faded.
Nylus grabbed for the jewel that hung from his neck which vanished as well. He peered down to her, reaching to her fallen hand.
“We must send her back,” Eisyr said.
“No!” Nylus pulled her closer. He needed to protect her. The once tormenting bond that caused him to suffer hauntings and physical pain had been replaced by a desire to keep her safe.
“She will be safe. I have much to teach you in the meantime.” Eisyr wiped the wet hair from her face.
Nylus shook his head. He wouldn’t let her go.
“Even the Queen of Secrets cannot weaken the bond forged by an act that brings forth a godling’s wings and ignites infernal flames.” Eisyr tapped Nylus’ chest where the talisman once rested. “None can keep you apart when her power is restored.”
Nylus’ head drooped. “I can’t. We can’t release her for more corrupters to find her.” Only a healer’s essence quenches a corrupter’s hunger for power. He could not let such a fate fall upon Zandravéa.
Eisyr raised a hand toward Nylus in a calming gesture.
Nylus’ voice raised. “She will be subjected to cruelty.”
“You and I are not strong enough to defend her.” Eisyr paused before placing a hand on Nylus’ shoulder. “Once the ones who have caused your suffering know she has been discovered they will place her under greater protections. Much of her magic is still bound and untrained. Only when she can fully utilize her abilities can we reap vengeance upon those who caused your suffering.”
“Then we stay and watch over her.”
Eisyr shook his head. “She will be hidden away somewhere. Given a new identity and the memories of someone else in her mind.”
“That’s—”
Eisyr raised an eyebrow. “Impossible? You have no idea what is possible. Only the witches performing the spells to trick her and those who have known who she replaced will ever know.”
Nylus glanced up to Eisyr, his brows furrowing. He would hunt down everyone involved in the meddling of his and Zandravéa’s bond. And not one will be granted a merciful death.
