Page 135 of Soul Forge

It took him several minutes to adjust to her touching him, but he didn’t pull away from her or flinch. Eventually, his shoulders relaxed. Elda traced the old wound with one fingertip, her brow creasing at its severity.

“Scars from a vestige never fade from me,” he almost whispered, answering her unspoken question. “Lazarus leaves particularly vicious wounds behind.”

“Lazarus?”

“The Spirit entrusted to Cynthia.” He turned onto his back, looking up at the canopy of translucent drapes above the bed. “Of all the wielders, she was the worst. And I spent the longest time bonded to her.”

“We don’t have to talk about this now,” Elda reassured him gently. “You’ve been through enough.” She paused, her brow furrowing. “Although, I do have one question.”

“Ask me anything.”

“You asked Cerilla if she knew what it was like to have her eyes plucked out or the bones cut out of her arm just to see if they’d grow back.” She swallowed, forcing the question out. “Did Cynthia really do those things?”

Instead of answering, he raised his right arm and turned it so she could see the underside, where a carefully placed scar bisected the dark runes on his skin from his wrist to the inside of his elbow. A scar easily long enough to get the ulna or radius through.

Swallowing her revulsion at such a heinous act of torture, Elda bent her head and pressed her lips to the scar. “I hope you never have to hurt like that again.”

“I’ve had worse. Waiting for my eyes to grow back was horrendous.”

“You have no scars on your face,” Elda frowned.

“She didn’t use Lazarus to remove them. She used a pair of blacksmith’s tongs and a knitting needle,” he muttered. Elda blanched.

“Did she know they’d grow back?”

“No.”

“Did you?” she asked. He shook his head. “That must have been horrible.”

“Yes, it was.”

She smiled, forcing lightness into her tone. “But I’m glad they grew back. Otherwise, you’d never have seen my pretty face.”

He blinked, laughing despite the dark topic. “I’ll thank the stars every day for that gift,” he replied, his grin widening. “Enough sad talk. Come here.”

“You’re okay with me touching you like this?” She inclined her head towards the hand still resting on his chest.

“Would you rather I wasn’t?”

Instead of answering, she scooted into his open arms and laid her head against his chest, sighing contentedly when his heart thudded beneath her ear. It was erratic at first, but it slowed when he relaxed, and his fingers began to trace gentle circles between her shoulder blades, slowly lulling her to sleep.

A knock at the door startled them awake just after dawn. Sypher lurched out of bed and opened it to find Julian behind it, a grave expression on his face.

“What’s the matter?” Sypher asked.

“Lillian returned just now. She’s hurt,” the vampire explained. “She isn’t seriously wounded, but she was attacked on the road back into Saeryn.”

“By who?” Elda asked, approaching the door to stand beside them.

“The Corrupted. Abraxos waylaid her when she returned with the nightly patrol. He tried to take her.”

“Is everyone else accounted for?” Sypher asked. The vampire nodded. “Good. From now on, the wielders stay together.” He called on his armour, shadows dragging in from all corners of the room to encase him in the formidable black suit right down to the shadowed hood. “Keep everyone inside the villa.”

Before anyone could stop him, Sypher ran down the corridor and out into the garden, taking to the skies and angling towards the gates.

“Shit,” Julian muttered. Elda barged past him and ran to her room, dragging on a pair of trousers and a tunic in record time. She’d barely stuffed her feet into her boots before Irileth was in her hand, and she was running towards the stables. Julian tried to stop her, but she slipped his grasp, heading for Nox. She knew Atlas would refuse to help if it put her in danger – the beast was as stubborn as his rider.

“I need you to take me to Sypher,” she pleaded breathlessly as soon as the winged demon was in sight, unhooking the latch on the stable door to get away before the vampire could catch up with her. The tulpar demon pawed the ground eagerly, nudging the stable door out of the way to get outside. Elda hoisted herself into the saddle, wrapping the reins around her wrist and tapping her heels against Nox’s sides just as Julian burst into the garden.

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