The Soulstoy Inheritance (Beatrice Harrow Series Book 2) Read online

  He moved over to me, and pointed with a finger, outlining what I had missed. It was the death mark, camouflaged in a net of black thread.

  “Strange,” I muttered.

  Gretal shooed Cale out of the room and was slow dressing me, taking her time to arrange me in something adhering to the current court fashion, with a thick rope of my dark red hair braided along my temple in a sort of crown, which looped back the rest of my hair, and twined into a makeshift hair-tie to give the impression of a high ponytail. I wanted to tell her to make me look as plain as possible, but something stopped me. She wasn’t making me pretty for the people who would be deciding my fate. She was doing it for my father.

  The dress had small, fluttery whips for sleeves, which didn’t do a great job at hiding my bandaged shoulder, or the smaller bandage wrapped about my forearm. However, the cut on my forehead no longer looked so bad, and every other wound was hidden well enough. The embroidery on the front lasted to my waist, and the top-half of the dress was uncomfortably tight against my bruised ribs, but the skirt was as light and wispy as the sleeves, so the discomfort was limited. The dress ended around my ankles, and Gretal tried to force me into a pair of slippers, but I insisted on wearing boots instead. The pair she brought me were still in the style of court fashion, with tiny rows of pearl buttons running up the side, and ending a few inches above my ankles with a minimalist heel. They weren’t the battered riding boots that I preferred, but they were better than a pair of silken slippers, so I chose not to pick a fight with them. When she finished strapping on my knife harness, we moved into the dressing room where my guard had already assembled.

  Cale whistled when he saw me, and Quick grinned, reminding me that I had wanted to introduce the two of them at one stage.

  “Have you met?” I asked, sweeping my hand across the room and indicating neither one of them in particular.

  “Not yet, little synfee.”

  “Cale, this is Quick, Sweet and Teddy, I chose them for my personal guard.”

  “Harbringer’s replacement?” he asked, eyes touching upon Teddy, who was as huge now as he had seemed the first day I met him. “You’re overcompensating a little, aren’t you?”

  I laughed, delighted that someone wasn’t diminishing my guard for once.

  “It’s not an easy task,” Teddy said, “keeping this one alive.”

  Cale’s eyes narrowed. “Did something else happen?”

  “It can wait,” I interrupted, as Sweet’s mouth opened. “Should I leave them here, or take them with me? I’m not so comfortable crossing the border as I was the last time.”

  “I know, and I don’t blame you. But they need to stay. You have to come alone. I’ll be with you the whole way.”

  “What about Gretal?”

  “Send her separately, she’s managed to go under everyone’s notice so far, it will be good to keep it that way.”

  “Alright then.” I looked to Teddy. “Will you guys look after her? Make sure she gets a horse, and even take her through the forest, if you can pass without being noticed?”

  Sweet clicked his tongue. “Unnoticed we can do.”

  I said goodbye to Gretal and followed Cale back to the border. The Black Guardsmen waiting for us this time where as unfamiliar as they were the last time, and I wondered how they had even managed to find so many men in the Black Barracks that I didn’t know. I was permitted to ride with Cale, which made the journey slightly more tolerable, but it still seemed to take a lifetime. When we began to march down the main road of the Market District, I was afforded a blessed respite from flying objects, and attributed that to Cale’s presence. He wasn’t royalty, but his father was still the Captain of the Royal Guard, and Cale was commonly associated with the royal family.

  When we entered the courtroom, Cale gave my hand a squeeze and melted away, leaving me sandwiched between two large guardsmen. The two side wings of the courtroom were filled to bursting with people, and as I was walked between them, their steady whispering swelled in volume. We stopped right in front of the dais, which housed seven people, none of whom I recognised. Hazen stood off to the side; his dark eyes fixed unflinchingly on me, his mother at his side. When her eyes connected with mine, her lips trembled. She seemed relieved and anxious all at the same time.

  The man sitting in the central position on the dais stood up. He had a cold gaze, and his mouth turned down at the sides as he looked at me. It seemed a permanent expression, judging by the creases etched into his skin, the lines dipping a frown into his forehead. His hair was slicked back, sticking to his skull with the aid of some kind of oil, drawing attention to the sharp lines of his aging face.

  “Synfee.” His voice boomed. “State your name.”

  I hadn’t considered that I might have needed to prepare before my trial until that moment. The man had called me a synfee, which meant that we were already off to a bad start. I looked like a human, I behaved like a human… if they were trying to dehumanise me in front of Hazen’s council and his entire court, it could only mean that they were going to push for my guilty status. Forcing my eyes from the floor, I spoke through my teeth, unsure if the strain in my voice was fear or something else. Pride, perhaps.

  “There is no synfee in this hall,” I said.

  Hazen might have smiled, but Miriam’s eyes went wide, and the standing man narrowed that cold gaze until he was squinting.

  “Tainted one. State your name,” he repeated, and I could tell that he was struggling to contain his anger.

  “My name is Beatrice Harrow.”

  A rustle of noise spread about the room, and he cleared his throat, quickly bringing silence again.

  “Miss Harrow, you have been brought forth today to face trial for the highest form of treason against both the crown and your own kin.”

  I swallowed, some of my fear falling away to make room for my grief. He seemed to sense that he had found my soft spot.

  “You stand accused of attempting to take the life of the crowned Prince, and successfully killing the King himself, after which you were seen fleeing the scene of the crime. You were also seen fleeing the scene of your father’s murder with Joseph Harbringer, who was under orders to help you in the case of danger to your person. Am I correct in these two instances, Miss Harrow?”

  “In the first instance, no. When I left the room, the King was alive. In the second instance, yes, I came across…” My voice suddenly lost its strength, and I swallowed once, twice, before trying to force myself to speak again.

  The man smiled, and I could tell that he was about to continue on with whatever listed evidence he had against me, so I pushed on quickly, my voice breaking.

  “I found him like that. I pulled the knife out of him. There were soldiers everywhere. I told Harbringer that I was in danger, and he could see my father lying there just as I could, so he helped me get away.”

  Take a deep breath, Bea. Hazen’s voice whispered in my head. I resisted the urge to look at him again, and drew in a shuddering breath, squaring my shoulders and lifting my gaze back to my interrogator’s.

  “Joseph Harbringer has already testified that he was with you in the room with the King and the crowned Prince, and just as you have stated, he holds that the King was alive and unharmed when you exited the room. However, with the compulsion capacity of the synfee race, we have had to bring in an external examiner to sift through your mind to garner the truth of these instances. If you refuse, you will be jailed immediately, pending an ongoing investigation. Do you consent, Miss Harrow?”

  “Yes.”

  “Bring out the examiner!”

  There was a movement to the side of the dais, behind where Hazen and Miriam stood. A man that I did not recognise stepped forth, he was Leif’s height and breadth, but the ebony skin and scarred face were unfamiliar. My heart rate picked up, and I could no longer control my breathing the way I knew I should have been. My palms began to sweat, and he stopped directly before me.

  “I’m going to touch your h
ead now,” he said, his voice grating over my skin like wonderful, wonderful sandpaper.

  I almost collapsed, and then had to suck in another deep breath, forcing my eyes to the ground as Leif reached out and slid his hands around my skull. The effect was similar to when Harbringer had examined my mind. The specific instant was recalled, and played through my consciousness as though I were watching a scene unfold before me. I wanted to cry when I saw my father again, but I pushed my emotions aside, concentrating instead on my breathing, and the fact that Leif was here.

  There was one person in the Synfee Empire that I could trust, at least.

  When he was finished, he still held my head for a few more seconds, and I flicked my eyes up to his.

  You are my Queen now; I have no right to ask you to keep my secret.

  Your secret is safe with me, Leif.

  His hands fell away and he turned to face the dais. “She has been truthful. She performed no compulsion, and did no harm. She used her power to save the Prince’s life, and then Joseph Harbringer arrived, and they left.”

  The silence became deafening, and I wondered if Leif still had his needle, to hear how loudly it would fall if he dropped it. Gradually, every face on the dais turned to the side, and I noticed that the attention in the room had switched rapidly from me to Hazen. In the space of seconds, I had gone from enemy-of-the-crown to Hazen’s saviour. Appearing completely unruffled, Hazen stepped forward.

  “I gave my statement immediately after the attack, and while I may have been out-of-sorts—” he paused, his handsome face cringing with a look of distaste—“ I do believe that it coincides with what has been declared just now, am I correct, Councilor?”

  My interrogator cleared his throat again, looking uncomfortable now. “Yes, Your Majesty, the statement you gave claimed that the synfee saved your life and then left immediately afterwards. Though your sluggishness pointed toward apparent compulsion at the time.”

  “I nearly died.” Hazen’s voice was flat, his dark consideration falling upon the Councilor with disdain. “Perhaps that was why I was so sluggish.” He turned without waiting for a reply and strode to me, taking the place of Leif—who I only now noticed had disappeared—and taking one of my hands.

  He knelt down and kissed the back of my hand, and then stood again, much to the apparent suspense of the gathered people. I knew that this would not be a scene easily forgotten; the dark-haired boy-king bowing over the hand of a Tainted one.

  “Thank you, Beatrice Harrow, for saving my life. My kingdom owes you a great debt.”

  I couldn’t quite speak, and though it felt inadequate to stand there and say nothing in return, I was almost glad that I had no way of forming words. What could I possibly say to one of my dearest friends, who had done so much for me, and yet somehow seemed so completely out of my reach, now? There had been a time when we could not exist without the other, for fear of the pain, anger or disgust of my own trauma ripping us into pieces. He had existed inside my mind and I within the careful shield of his. His features were the only part of him to remain unchanged throughout all that we had been through together. The arcane darkness of his consideration that I remembered from beneath the cherry tree at the Academy was repeated throughout each of my memories of him, capturing me in a stare that I could have fallen into at any point, if I had wanted to lose myself to the world forever. His square jaw still clenched with ever-veiled control, his lips straight with secrets; half a hairs-breadth from a smile and just as close to a frown. He was the same. And yet, he was so very different. I simply stared at him, feeling the pressure of his lips on the back of my hand, even though they weren’t there anymore.

  Who are you? I thought.

  Miriam finally managed to tear my eyes from Hazen’s, and she was much more forthcoming than her son, pulling me into a hug and sniffing as if she might cry.

  “I’m so glad this is all over,” she whispered as she held me, “you have done so much, and endured so much. I promise you, Bea, I will protect you from now on. This will never happen again.”

  I hugged her tightly in return, knowing that there would be nothing that she could do, but understanding, too, that she needed to make the promise. I stood there in a daze as the Councilor announced me acquitted of all crimes and ordered the court to be dispensed. The people thinned out around me slowly, and I just continued to stand there, blinking at the dais.

  “That’s it?” I found myself asking.

  “That’s it,” Hazen said. “Rose and Cale are waiting for you, shall I take you to them?”

  “Please.” He began to walk off, and I followed on numb legs, still feeling as if Cedric would run back into the room at any moment and change his mind.

  All that just to be immediately acquitted?

  We climbed the castle stairs as I had on so many occasions before, and finally came to a stop outside Rose’s chamber. Cale was asleep again, this time on a bench-seat beneath a window, and it reminded me that Hazen hadn’t slept either.

  “Bea!” Rose flung herself at me and Cale woke with a start.

  I laughed and clutched at the girl, until she squeezed a little too tight and I let out a small moan of pain despite myself. She jerked back, holding me at arm’s length and looking me over.

  “What is it? What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing, just a few bruises, and a cut or two.”

  “How did it happen?” Cale asked, standing and yawning. “And why is there a bandage on your shoulder? I didn’t notice it before now. I might have been a little distracted by the dress.”

  I made a face. “I fought a wolf, and then I fought a giant hawk. Oh, there were a few reptilian creatures too, but I’m not sure what they were called.”

  “Quite a Throne Test,” Hazen remarked, apparently witnessing the events in my mind as I spoke about them.

  Cale’s brow furrowed. “They made you fight animals in the Throne Test?”

  “Yes, and a few other things. But I got to ride the hawk for a little bit, until it threw me into the river. I enjoyed that.”

  Rose scrunched up her nose. “You’re a little weird sometimes, Bea.”

  I laughed. “Well the wolf wasn’t part of the throne test. I was trying to hunt, to make some stupid stand on cannibalism.”

  “A stand against cannibalism can never be a stupid stand,” Cale remarked wisely.

  Rose rolled her eyes. “Trust you to make a joke out of cannibalism.”

  “When was the last time you slept?” I asked Hazen, turning away from the other two.

  He frowned. “I can’t remember; I’ll sleep after the service.”

  “When is it?”

  “This afternoon, we are burying him by the cabin he occupied before moving to the Market District. I understand that’s where your mother is buried?”

  “How did you know that?”

  “It popped into his head, at some point.”

  I nodded, though my own head was now spinning, just a little bit.

  “He would have liked that idea.”

  “I haven’t publically announced it, I hope that’s okay. I thought with all of the recent attention, it would only draw a crowd wanting to get a glimpse of you or Harbringer.”

  “No, I’m glad.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Respite in the Ground

  The ceremony was small, as Hazen had promised. Miriam, Rose, Cale, Hazen, Harbringer and Gretal all stood around me, while the minister sprinkled holy water over the grave and spoke of a better life, which all of us were afforded the luxury of believing in, if only for an hour. Many of the Black Guardsmen that I had grown up around were in attendance, along with Philippe, who was the next to speak after the minister.

  Hazen stood on one side and Cale on the other. Cale held my hand, and let me cry onto his shoulder, while I got the distinct impression that Hazen was merely putting himself between Harbringer and me. After the service was finished, I waved them all ahead of me, and knelt by the freshly filled grave.

&
nbsp; “I don’t believe in any of the gods,” I whispered to the dirt, “and maybe that’s what makes this so hard. You were a wonderful, loving, dear man. I can’t bear to think that there is nothing left for you.”

  A long time passed, where I simply knelt there, enjoying the brief respite of peace. Nobody was trying to kill me right now, but it was too late. The raging storm that my life had been kicked into had calmed too late for me to hold my father and tell him how much I loved him.

  Eventually, I felt a hand on my shoulder, and looked up to find Harbringer standing behind me.

  “It’s going to get dark soon, Harrow. Let’s go back.”

  I nodded and let him help me to my feet, but then I hesitated.

  “This won’t last,” I said, looking back to the grave. “Things are back to normal. Calm, even. But it won’t last.”

  He sighed. “We might have finally won a battle in this war, but whoever is orchestrating all of this isn’t about to give up just because you were acquitted.”

  “Especially if they only intended the trial to draw attention from whatever else they’re up to. The Black Guardsmen have been so occupied with me…”

  “I’m going to ask Hazen to put me back on protection detail,” he said, without looking at me. “I don’t know how he could refuse, with all that’s going on.”

  “I would feel better having you there again,” I admitted. “Things have been… interesting, since you left.”

  “Oh?” He did look at me then, one of his eyebrows arching.

  “Yes. I’d like to put you on my High Council. I suppose you should mention that to Hazen as well.”

  “You’ve assembled a High Council already?”

  “Yes. It turns out Nareon has a brother and a former lover, those are the two who draw most of my attention, apart from Grenlow. I trust the Spymaster—he helped me through the Throne Test. Without him, I would have probably failed.”

  “Or died, from what I heard.”

  “How in hell has anyone had time to talk to you about that?”

  He grinned. “It’s a running joke, I suppose, how often you manage to accumulate injuries. Truly, I don’t know how you managed to survive without me there to stitch you up every night.”