Page 31 of Fate Promised

Triska and Fergal stared at him, and Juri shrugged. “It’s an old rhyme about the vanishing isle.”

“Ayup, that’s the one.” Fergal snapped his telescope shut and gestured toward the limp sails. “We’re stuck at a crawl for a bit. Now is the time to have a chat.”

Juri crossed his arms. “Let’s start with you knowing Hoyt,” he said.

Fergal lifted a finger. “I knew him back when he was a boy in school. His family kicked him out for not having enough magic to suit them.” Fergal’s expression darkened.

Triska nodded. “Hazel has only mentioned it once, but her family cast her out, too. Do they all do this?”

“Most.” Fergal sighed. “Magicwielding families tend to have many children, aiming to cultivate as much magic as possible. They only want heirs who will increase their power.” He shook his head. “The caste system we have, and the shunning involved with it, is ridiculous. I spent my time at the academy working to defeat it, but … now I make taffy.” He squared his shoulders. “You weren’t in Ryba by accident. You were chasing these necromancers?”

Juri told them both how he’d pursued Hoyt, describing his battle with the necromancer in the sewers below the city. She noticed he was vague on why he’d followed Hoyt to Coromesto though, only saying Hoyt had angered the vulk.

Triska stared up at him, her lips slightly parted. This was Juri’s life? This was what he did every day? It was … amazing. He was amazing. Fergal peppered him with questions about the magic the necromancer had used, especially how Hoyt drained the hooded man and how he’d spoken about gaining more power with shuwt.

“What is shuwt?” Juri asked.

Fergal frowned. “You’re certain he said shuwt?”

Juri nodded. “He said that word at least three times.”

Fergal’s brow wrinkled, making him look even more like a raisin. “It’s the life energy of every being. When we die, it’s said that our essence, our shuwt, moves on.” He gestured toward Juri. “It’s believed that the shuwt of those who’ve lived less than honorably ends up in Peklo, swirling around for eternity. It’s not the first time I’ve heard the theory that someone skilled enough could call forth the shuwt of the underworld to fuel their power.”

“It’s a soul?” Triska asked.

Fergal shook his head. “Shuwt is much more complex. You can give away bits of your shuwt—like Juri described Hoyt taking from his companion in the sewers—without killing the other person, but you can’t take a bit of a soul, only the whole thing.” He eyed Juri. “The leshak take souls, and they kill when they do.”

A splash came from somewhere behind the stern of the boat, like a large stone had been thrown in the water. Juri and Triska both wheeled around, but once again, all she caught were ripples.

Triska shuddered. “The leshak?”

Juri draped his arm around her. “Don’t worry. No leshak can kill a vulk. And they aren’t around anymore.” The leshak, souldrinkers, were terrible creatures, and no longer roamed the earth because of the vulk.

Was the reason a leshak couldn’t kill a vulk because the vulk had no souls? Hazel said they made a trade to become the most powerful beings in Ulterra. She glanced at Juri. Was that really true … how did he live without his soul?

“Did you discover anything else about our rune?”

Fergal studied him. “How does a vulk know about runes? Vulk aren’t interested in magic.”

A puff of wind filled the sails half-heartedly, giving the boat a touch of forward momentum. “I was there last year when the Forest Mother explained about them. I traveled with my Alpha to visit her when a rune showed up between him and a human female. The Forest Mother had a book about runes, but she said the same thing you did. That they act in unexpected ways, and she wasn’t sure what the purpose was in binding my Alpha with another.”

Fergal hooted. “That old crone? Is she still mucking around in her swamp? Back when I was dean, she used to show up asking if I was reading the signs, treating me like some kind of fresh-faced lad.”

Triska shot Juri a bemused look. “What signs?”

Fergal only waved his hand. “Back to the rune. The two of you are runebound for the next month. I can ask the rune to repeat the poem if you want to hear it again. They don’t normally speak, you know.”

Triska glanced at Juri. “I remember what it said. Do you?”

“I remember every word.” He turned to Fergal. “You figured out how to work with the rune?”

“A few of my ancient books—” Fergal grinned. “Well, a few of Herskala Academy’s precious tomes I had in my possession when it was deemed that I would no longer be dean, have a few notes about rune magic. I kept them safe with me when I left.”

Triska chuckled. “Of course.”

Fergal cackled. “The rune offered you a choice. I’m not sure why it targeted you, but it has its reasons. Think carefully before you decide. The fate of more than just the two of you may be at stake.”

Juri snorted. “That’s comforting.”

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