Page 13 of Soul Forge

“Well, I am,” she shot back. “What happens now?”

She could practicallyfeelhow hard he fought the urge to roll his eyes when he answered her. “I bind you to your vestige and the Spirit inside it. Once that’s done, we start your training.”

“My vestige?” she echoed. “And training forwhat, exactly?” She balled her skirts in her fists. His lack of free information began to burrow its way under her skin, tugging at her already frayed nerves.

“You don’t know what a vestige is? Do you not read?”

Her cheeks coloured. “I read whatever I can get my hands on. Unfortunately, my access to literature is tightly controlled by my father. He sees books as a distraction from my duties.”

His crimson stare was intense. “A vestige is the weapon you’ll use to channel the magic your Spirit will gift you as a wielder. It’s your link to them and the most important thing you’ll own from here on out. Every wielder has one.”

“Which Spirit chose me? And why?”

“I don’t know why you were chosen. Your Spirit will introduce herself to you in private. She hasn’t used her earthly form for along time, so it’s safer to wait until you’re in an open space with fewer witnesses.”

The downturn to the corners of his mouth seemed to be a permanent fixture, and it was all Elda could focus on when he spoke. She wondered what she could have done between the dance and accepting the proposal to make him dislike her so quickly.

She forced herself to look back at his eyes. “And what have I been chosen for?”

He shrugged, a muscle in his jaw ticking. “I don’t know yet.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

He sipped the ale in his tankard before replying. “I mean, I don’t know.”

Elda wasn’t sure if he was ignorant to how much he was annoying her or if he was being purposefully cryptic. She could feel her temper straining against its reins. He offered no further explanation, looking back at the king among the milling crowd. She sat and stewed until the tension was too much to bear. It burst out of her, tumbling from her lips in a rush.

“You really expect me to just go along with everything you’ve said and get no information in return?”

“Yes.”

The laugh she let out bordered on hysterical. How dare he act like she was the inconvenience when he’d just turned her life on its head? Why did everyone believe they could issue an order and she’d follow it blindly? All her choices were made for her, her freedom chained and thrown in a cage, far out of reach. It was too much.

“Tell me what you think I’m going to face!” she demanded, blinking back the tears threatening to fill her eyes.

His gaze cast up towards the vaulted ceiling, the response coming out clipped. “Evil in whatever form it decides to take. The kind of evil an army can’t handle.”

Despite the way Elda’s stomach pitched, her words became bladed. “And why leave it to me instead of you? You’re supposed to be the strongest creature on the continent. You’re the hero of Valerus, slayer of monsters, saviour of the people. Why do you need me?” The urge to scream at him grew by the second.

She expected anger in his expression, but when he dropped his chin to look at her, his face was devoid of emotion. The fire in his eyes had banked to a low glow, the black sclera seeming to swallow it.

“Because the task is bigger than me,” he deadpanned.

There was no trace of the kind saviour from the hallway. In his place sat a stony soldier with very little patience for her. She got the distinct impression that her entire existence was an enormous inconvenience for him.

The awful voice in the back of her head said she’d made a mistake – at least she knew where she stood with Horthan. In time, she might have found ways to outsmart him. Sypher, she was beginning to realise, was a new and unknown problem. And she’d just shackled herself to him.

“You’re the Soul Forge,” she continued, refusing to be put off by his attitude. With a monumental shove, she squashed down the panic clawing through her chest and lifted her chin. “You stopped Lord Malakai. You put an end to the Great War and the Cenet Uprising. You regularly kill demons big enough to level an entire city. What task could be too big for you?”

He drained the last of his ale. “A wielder stopped the war. A wielder ended the uprising. Andnobodyhas stopped Lord Malakai,” he corrected. “Contrary to your belief, and apparently also the belief of every storyteller on Valerus, Iamcapable of failure. There are some things I can’t do alone. That’s when the Spirits decide it’s time to choose a champion. I don’t decide when, where, how, or why that person is chosen.”

“If you can’t tell me why I’ve been chosen, can you at least tell me something about you?” she pleaded. “Like where you come from? Or how you became the Soul Forge?”

“No.”

“How am I supposed to trust you if I don’t know you?” she argued. Her veins were boiling with a toxic mix of emotions, turning her next sentence ugly. “How do I know you’re not going to turn out exactly like Horthan?”

“Listen, Princess,” he snapped, flattening his gloved palm against the table and leaning towards her. A ridge formed on his brow, and she watched that muscle jump in his jaw. The fire that had banked so low in his eyes burst into a searing blaze. “Let’s get one thing straight right now. I told you the truth when I said I’d protect you from harm. That’s myjobnow. I also told you the truth when I said your body was your own. I have no interest in being a husband.Zero.”

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