Soulbroken Read online

  What were they doing here? Not just the larger two—those I wasn’t so surprised to see this close to the Outer Rim—but the youngling had no business this far from its birthing grounds. Its skin hadn’t even blued yet, which meant that it was less than a year old. And how was I supposed to kill a baby Graplar, monstrous beasts or not?

  The truth was, I wasn’t certain that I could. Sighing heavily, I cast another longing glance at the hot springs. "Well, the world won't end if I don't get to wash my hair today."

  "Don't you see?" He flashed me a look that said that I may just be the most insensitive person on the planet, then leaned forward and pointed at the smallest of the beasts. "There. The little one. It's hurt."

  Upon closer examination, I could see that he was right. The small Graplar was limping, favoring its right hind leg, as if it had been injured. It was sad to watch the creature struggle, but standing to either side of it were large, drooling reminders of what it would grow up to be. Empathy oozed from Gage, who'd furrowed his brow and looked as if he might bolt down the hill to help at any moment. I put my hand on his arm, hoping to talk some sense into him. They were dangerous creatures, after all, injured youngling or not. The adults were healthy, from what I could tell, and that meant that they were fully capable of ripping us limb from limb. "Should we really do something, or head back to camp and hope they didn't notice us? I mean...it's a Graplar."

  Did I really need to remind him of the little girl in Drago? What more evidence did he need that they were hateful, horrible, dangerous creatures?

  Not so much as a single heartbeat passed before Gage shook my hand away and bolted down the hill, sliding on his heels as he reached the bottom. My heart stopped. What if the parents turned on Gage? What if I was forced to watch those monsters rip my new friend into a million tiny pieces? Slowly, and far more stealthily than Gage, I made my way down the hill.

  Both of the Graplar parents growled as Gage approached the youngling, but strangely, neither attacked. He crouched near the wounded creature and, after examining its leg, called to me, "It looks like it's just popped out of joint. I'll need you to help me pop it back in."

  There was no way I was going near that thing's parents. Not with them staring at me now, rows and rows of razor sharp teeth bared. I shook my head slowly, but said nothing.

  "Kaya!" At Gage's shout, they turned their attention on him with low, guttural growls. But still, they didn't move. He met my eyes with a pleading glance. "I need your help. It's in pain. Please."

  The small Graplar hopped toward Gage, its injured leg tucked up underneath of its body. Its black eyes seemed just a bit less soulless than that of its parentage. And it was hurt--that much was obvious. My heart softened a bit at the sight of it limping. Relenting, I moved forward, my eyes on the larger two, my hand on my katana the entire time. To my immense surprise, I reached Gage and the wounded youngling without incident. With care not to move too fast, I slowly knelt beside Gage and he nodded his gratitude. "I'll pop it back into place, but I need you to hold him still."

  Nodding, I looked the youngling over, trying to figure out a place where I could put my arms where I wouldn't be in danger of getting bitten by the thing. It yawned slightly, and I could see that its teeth were barely nubs. It really was a baby. I gently wrapped my arms around its neck, hoping those nubs weren't able to break skin. It surprised me how cool the creature felt, and that it didn't struggle against my advances. As I held it, Gage gently grasped its hind leg and pushed. The Graplar squealed in surprise before wriggling out of my arms, but once it hit the ground, I could tell that our efforts had worked. Stunned, I looked at Gage once again. "I don't understand. Why didn't they attack us?"

  Gage shrugged as he stood and helped me up. "Maybe they knew we were here to help."

  His words stayed with me as we gathered up all of our supplies. They played over again in my mind as we continued our trek, and as they did, I found myself full of questions of my own. Questions about Gage. Questions I wanted to know the answers to, but did not think that I ever would. Still, it didn't stop me from asking. "You don't discuss your past. You don't discuss your present. You only barely react to things I have to say. And you help Graplars! Who are you, Gage? Other than being the guy who's too damn quiet."

  "I'm no one." He shrugged with one shoulder, as if it were so obvious. "Not really. Who are you?"

  "You're frustrating, you know that?" And judging by the twinkling in his green eye, he absolutely did. Sighing, I decided to answer his question anyway. "I'm just a girl who wants people to stop hurting people, to respect me, and to leave me and my family the fak alone."

  He clucked his tongue quietly. "Such language. I wonder what her parents would say."

  "See? Then there's that!" It was all I could do not to strangle him. When he looked at me for clarification. I almost did. Instead, with a groan, I said, "You talk about people as if they're not here."

  "Only about you." He winked at me and I gave him a playful shove. Any more playful, though, and he might have ended up in the creek we'd been walking alongside.

  "You're weird, Gage. You're just...weird."

  At that, he smiled. "I'm enjoying your company as well, Kaya."

  It wasn’t long before we reached the edge of the Skilled village of Butcher, and I could almost gauge its proximity to us based on the rising hairs on the back of my neck. There was no sensible reason why we should travel through a Skilled village in order to acquire additional supplies, but no matter how much I resisted the idea, Gage assured me that we would be safe. We’d blend in. And no one from Shadow Academy or the Zettai Council would think to locate me here.

  All of this without my even having uttered a word to him about being on the run, about hiding from certain people in Skilled society. Gage was, for lack of a better word, intuitive, to say the least.

  Approaching a Skilled village like Butcher was very different than approaching an Unskilled village—like Kessler, for example. A warm glow filled the hilltop ahead of us, but it wasn’t the dim glow of lit torches. It was bright, vaguely festive, and hinted at luxury. This light wasn’t merely a nighttime necessity. It was an expression of all that Skilled society had to offer.

  As we climbed, I noticed a wall of vines surrounding that glowing light. It stood well over twelve feet in height and the light poured from within its confines. We’d just gotten close enough for me to see the stone wall within the tangle of vines when a guard stepped from the darkness to address us. “What brings you here, travelers?”

  “Our skills, kind sir.” Gage nodded with his reply, as if agreeing with his assessment of the situation.

  The guard looked Gage up and down, and then looked at me. “If you’ll just show me your Traces, Barrons, I can allow you inside.”

  For a moment, I’d thought that he was just talking to Gage. But then I realized that he thought that we were both Barrons. Of course he did! We were both carrying katanas, and approaching a Skilled village. Only one problem. I wasn’t a Barron, and had absolutely no explanation as to why I was carrying a katana, when Healers weren’t allowed to even touch the weapons. I’d never been to a Skilled village before, so I had no idea whatsoever what might be expected of me once I reached its gate.

  Parting my lips, I stammered for a moment, until Gage stepped in. “Forgiveness, please. This is my Healer. I’d found the katana she’s carrying in the woods and asked that she carry it. I realize that such a thing is against Protocol—“

  “Completely.” His shoulders were drawn up to his ears in tension. He was like a tightly wound spring, ready to release a lot of pent up energy.

  “Yes," Gage said, keeping his tone pleasantly casual. "But. I’ve been awake for three days, travelling to be Bound to her. After our binding, I insisted that we travel immediately, as I'm anxious to return to Darkmoon Academy, but in hindsight, that was a poor decision. Frankly, I’m exhausted. I made a mistake. It happens to everyone, now and again. I’d be happy to show you my Trace, so you know I’m v
ouching for her without ulterior motive.”

  Before the guard could speak, Gage dropped his saya, cloak, and satchel to the ground, turned around and lifted his shirt until it was almost over his head. His back was flawless, tan, and lean, and I found my gaze lingering on the smooth lines of his well-toned muscles. At the center of his back, between his shoulder blades, was his Trace. Black. I don’t know why I was surprised. So many Traces were black. So many had lost their Healers in this senseless war against King Darrek. Why should Gage be any different?

  The guard remained silent for some time, as if still debating whether or not we were who we said we were—or rather, if we were who Gage said we were. After a moment, Gage lowered his shirt and turned to face him, obviously frustrated. “Look, if you’re not going to allow us to enter, you could at least be swift about your decision so we can make the three hour journey to Hopkins before I fall asleep standing here.”

  The guard poked Gage hard in the center of his chest. "Either you carry both swords or I report your breach in Protocol. Got it?"

  "Got it."

  The guard nodded toward me. "And she stays by your side the entire time."

  "Every moment."

  After another long, drawn out moment, the guard nodded and stepped to the side. As he did so, he raised his fist in the air, which was apparently the signal to his fellow gate guards, because one section on the ivy-covered wall swung in, and before I knew it, we were stepping inside the walls of Butcher. And I wasn't at all prepared for what I saw once we were in.

  I don't know what it was that I'd been expecting to see in a Skilled village, but part of me really wanted to not like it. Perhaps that was due to having watched so many of my Unskilled neighbors struggle over the years with finances and the eternal search for food and comfort. Perhaps it was due to my absolute distaste for the insistence that the Unskilled and the Skilled never intermingle. All I knew was that once I stepped inside that wall, I was fully prepared to dislike Butcher...and instead, I was absolutely charmed by it.

  Just inside the wall began a street that led into the center of town, paved with rectangular red bricks and lined with tall, iron poles which held lanterns every ten yards or so. Inside the lanterns were candles that glowed brighter than any I had ever seen, a tribute to their quality. The grass to either side of the paved path was even in length, lush and thick. Only Shadow Academy could rival such a well-groomed area in my memory, apart from the healthy caretaking of the farmlands surrounding Kessler. Even so, in my mind, nothing could compare to the wild grasses that lined the banks of the Kessler river. There was something to be said for well-manicured greenery, but there was something more that could be said for soft grasses brushing against your legs as you hiked your way across a field. But I was biased.

  Not a brick was out of place as we followed the path into town, nor a candle blown out by the soft breeze. It was as if every detail had been attended to, so that visitors would have a certain intended vision of Butcher as they entered it. As we walked, I brought my attention up from the road to the awaiting village in front of us. Several buildings lined the street, mostly shops with charming signs hanging from their rafters. Each was colored in pretty, bright tones, and I was so charmed by the peaceful serenity of Butcher that I allowed myself a moment to appreciate it without thought to the Unskilled villagers and the rugged lifestyle they experienced. I noted the shop signs--a baker, a metal smith, a jeweler, an inn--and couldn't help but notice that there was no fence here. I was grateful for that. Seeing a fence in such a quaint scene would have marred it somehow, and lessened the serenity of it completely. I nodded toward a small courtyard filled with tables and chairs, all surrounding a tiered stone fountain. "Hungry? There's a restaurant. We could get some food. I don't know about you, but those chairs look awfully inviting after sitting on the ground for so long."

  Gage looked utterly relieved and adjusted the satchel on his back, as if the weight of everything that he was carrying was starting to bother him. I didn't know why he had lied to the gate guard for me, but I was so glad he did. It was difficult not to reach out and take my katana from his arms, both to ease his burden some and to equip myself once again, but for the moment, we were Healer and Barron, and if we had any hope at all of pulling off that story, he had to carry both weapons, and I had to resist the urge to do anything that might suggest that I wasn't just a typical Healer, travelling across the countryside with my soon-to-be-Bound Barron.

  The smells coming from the outdoor cafe were a mingling of spices and creams, and my mouth watered at the promise of taking just a single bite. We moved between tables until we found one in a quiet corner under the leafy branches of a flowering massbloom tree. It wasn't so far from the entrance that we couldn't watch the passing townsfolk, but it also wasn't so close to the entrance that we were easily seen. Nice and private. Just the way we liked it.

  I was assuming, anyway, by the way Gage's eyes were sweeping the streets just as often as mine. Neither of us, for our own personal reasons, wanted to be discovered.

  A thin woman in a draping purple gown swept up to our table with a broad smile. She dropped a parchment menu in front of each of us and said, "Welcome, travelers. My name is Dola and it will be my pleasure to serve you. Any questions, just ask."

  She swept away with a twirl, just as dramatically as she'd entered, and I chuckled at the charm of it all. It was as if we hadn't set foot in a town at all, but on a stage. We were surrounded by players, and enjoying the apparent luxuries that their set had to offer. Gage must have been feeling the same way, because when he met my gaze, he chuckled as well. It was a strange thing to see, an outpouring of any emotion at all, and I wondered what had been done to him to make him be so reserved in showing pleasure or pain. But I didn't ask. Mostly because I wasn't certain that I wanted to know what kind of thing could do that to a man.

  The prices listed on the menu were surprisingly affordable, so Gage and I embarked on a bit of a feast. Partly, I thought, in celebration that we were actually eating at a table and sitting in chairs. Partly because we didn't have to prepare any of the meal ourselves. We ordered sweetened pinetea, freshly baked wheatbread, and bowls of herbstew, and commenced to eating the moment the food hit the table. My stomach rumbled even as I devoured my meal, and I drank at least three mugs of pinetea before looking up at Gage, who seemed just as content as I was at the moment. The chair I was sitting in was made of some type of hardwood that I didn't recognize, and felt so comfortably molded to my backside that I wasn't certain that I ever wanted to sit on the ground again. People passed by the cafe--some stopping in, some hurrying to the local shops, some simply enjoying the evening air--and as I watched them, I noticed something peculiar. Other than those who were obviously travelling, like us, no Barrons were carrying katanas on their backs. Was there no concern here that Graplars might somehow enter town, even with the protection of the surrounding wall? Of course not. Much like at Shadow Academy, an arrogance pervaded the townsfolk's minds. Nothing could touch them without their express permission. But even Shadow Academy knew better now.

  Something else struck me as well. It meant that Gage and I stood out. Even amongst the travelers we stood out, because Gage was carrying two katanas.

  I lifted my bowl up and drank down the last remaining gravy from the stew before sitting the empty dish back on the table and looking at Gage. "So I've been meaning to ask you something."

  He bit off a good size bite of bread and looked at me expectantly. When he did, I leaned a bit closer, certain to keep my voice low so that no one would hear our exchange. "Tell me honestly. Why did you want to help that Graplar? As a Barron, you're tasked with killing them--"

  He held up a finger. "As a Barron, I'm tasked with keeping the peace."

  I didn’t see much of a difference. "Doesn't killing Graplars and keeping the peace kind of go hand in hand?"

  “Taking any life at all negates the very notion of peace. Even Graplar lives.”

  “But you’ve kil
led them before.”

  “Only when faced with no other option.”

  Sitting back in my chair, I shook my head, his logic completely lost on me. “It seems to me that reducing the population of Graplars would save Healer lives, at the very least.”

  He picked up his glass of pinetea and swirled its contents thoughtfully around in the glass. “True.”

  “So?”

  “So what?”

  It didn’t seem like he was trying to aggravate me on purpose, but he was certainly succeeding in doing so. Who defended the honor of Graplars? It was crazy to even think about. “Why let the youngling live? If it’s just going to grow up and kill Healers…”

  “You don’t know that. Not for certain. And judging someone—something—before you give them a chance to prove themselves is an awfully closed-minded way to live. Wouldn’t you agree?” The brow over his green eye rose sharply then, and I finally saw his point. Judging anything or anyone before you gave them a chance just wasn’t fair.

  We finished eating and I dropped enough trinks on the table to cover our meal and a small tip. As we left the cafe, Gage nodded at one of the hanging shop signs. In swirling, painted script, the sign read "Jeweler". "I have to stop in here. The owner's a friend of mine."

  A small bell on the door rang as we entered, reminding me only slightly of the bell that had hung on the fence's door back in Drago. But the shop was absolutely different. Each of the four walls was lined with a clear glass case, and inside each case were amazing gemstones--some cut, some uncut--chains, and other bits of jewelry displayed on the finest of fabrics. On the walls were various paintings, each encased in gilded frames and marked with price tags, despite the word "jeweler" on the sign that hung outside.