A Soul Reclaimed Read online




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  ISBN 978-1-988281-70-4

  Copyright © 2019 Shayna Grissom

  All Rights Reserved

  Edited by Laurie Carter

  Formatting by Renee Hare

  Publisher Sands Press

  Publisher’s Note

  This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales, are intended only to provide as a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously. All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the authors' imaginations and are not to be construed as real.

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  1st Printing April 2019

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  Chapter One

  "Don't think I've forgotten," Peter said.

  I knew he hadn't. My birthday wasn't a widely celebrated event, but Peter had a small cake waiting for me on my desk every year. My mother would never celebrate the day I ruined her life, but at least my tutor loved me.

  "You know how I feel about my birthday," I told him.

  "I do, which is why I insist on making a day of it. Besides, you know how much Sarah loves the castle market."

  The second part of my birthday tradition was visiting the open market. He was right. Sarah loved all things luxurious and extravagant. It was something that reminded her of the fourth region, the place she once called home. Every year, Peter and Sarah would take me to the castle market, and we would see the most exotic wares.

  It wasn't that I disliked the market. I enjoyed it. Peter could be a wild card at times, my mother and stepfather didn't approve of him. Within the confines of our classroom, no one could find the rumor to whisper in the steward's ear. Out here, in the public eye, Peter's presence could draw unwanted attention.

  "Just don't stir up any trouble." I said.

  Peter cocked his head and gave a mischievous grin. "Trouble? Me?"

  He knew what I meant.

  "Nora, Myrtle was dismissed ten years ago. I don't think your parents want to hurt you. They didn't realize how much it would upset you."

  He was lying. Whenever he started a sentence with my name, whatever followed was a lie. Myrtle was the first maid I had at the castle, before Peter and Sarah. A chubby midlife woman who didn't lecture me for wetting the sheets or crying without reason. Myrtle was dismissed to punish me, and Peter knew it.

  Peter sat on the edge of his desk to look at me. "I can't promise everything will be fine, that everything will stay the same. But I can promise that you will always find your way."

  I wanted to believe him, but I am nothing but my mother's old baggage, a remnant of a mistake Bella made as a teenager. The "something" she left at her parent's house when she met the steward. The item she packed up and took with her from the fifth region of Hell when she moved into the castle. I should have considered myself lucky with my rags-to-riches story, but I'm an ungrateful child.

  My mother found her happily-ever-after. Away from my grandparents with their rules and judgments, far from the fifth region, where zealots burned the heretics. The ruler of Hell had whisked Mother away from all her troubles— all but one.

  Sarah rushed into the classroom. Her dark hair was wrapped ornately around her head, and she was wearing a blue velvet dress today. It looked nice on her; it matched her icy blue eyes and the coolness of her skin.

  "It's time for supper," she said.

  The three of us ate together at the small wooden table in my bedroom while Peter read poetry and funny short stories from the castle library. The rain tapped against the glass of my window that overlooked the garden. It only added to Peter's poetry reading.

  Sarah never showed any interest in this ritual. I didn't typically laugh, but if I liked something, I would make a comment. Sarah's cold demeanor was mostly ignored. It wasn't that she was uncaring, Sarah simply did not express herself outwardly. Peter never asked me to change, so I didn't expect it of Sarah.

  "Are we planning on going to the market tomorrow?" Sarah asked.

  "Seems so," Peter said. "Are you going to get permission from the steward?"

  Sarah nodded. "There have been reports of some strange activity at the border."

  I knew what they were talking about. The borders of the seven regions that divided Hell were coming undone. No one knew why. The steward had doubled patrols, but it wasn't helping. More than ever, the souls of the seventh region were escaping and attacking the rest of the population.

  Peter shook his head. "Outlanders roaming around the first region unchecked."

  "Choose your words carefully," Sarah said.

  Peter pushed his plate away and wiped his face with his napkin. His long, wrinkled fingers clawed around the napkin, balling it up before throwing it onto his plate.

  "Until tomorrow, then," Peter said. "Goodnight, Nora." He winked.

  When I stepped outside the room the next morning, I only saw a tracker. His soft leather uniform was covered with a chainmail vest. The vest not only served to protect the hunter, but it also allowed his hawk to perch on his shoulder without damaging his leather. The patch on his chest indicated he was a hawk hunter, but his bird was likely roosting in the barracks.

  His gray eyes shifted nervously in my presence. "Where is Peter?" I asked. "He's gone."

  "Where did he go?"

  "He's just gone."

  I didn't like the way the man answered me, but it wasn't his fault. He was likely instructed to answer this way. "Should I go ask my stepfather?" I asked.

  I received no reply.

  That night, I insisted on having dinner with Mother and Vinicio. My wish was greeted with opposition from my mother, whose eyes watered right away, knowing why I was intruding on her romantic dinner. If Vinicio understood why I attended, he didn't show it.

  He motioned to a chair at the long dining table. "Please, join us, Nora." The food was extravagantly displayed in heaps. The massive fireplace gave the entire stone room a soft glow. The table had a red and black embroidered runner, and fruits were stacked in glossy wooden bowls. A giant roasted boar was in the center of the long wooden table. Mother was wearing a red ball gown, her full skirt overflowing in her seat. She was wearing a little red hat with a veil pinned to her curly blonde hair. She had cut her hair since I'd last seen her; it was now bouncing freely just below her chin.

  "You've grown into quite the young lady," Vinicio said. He picked up several vegetables with his fork before placing them in his mouth.

  "Funny how that happens."

  "Nora, please don't," Bella pleaded.

  "I wouldn't be here, upsetting your dinner, if you hadn't dismissed my tutor," I told her.

  "I'm sorry we didn't talk to you about it first," Vinicio said. "But you're a young lady now, and you need a more mature teacher. You've outgrown him, my dear."

  "And Sarah?" I asked.

  "She left on her own." He said.

  "Peter says that only dictators fear opposition."

  "He would teach you such nonsense, wouldn't he? I should have dealt with him years
ago. Who knows what other stupidity he's filled your head with . . ."

  The steward's hand rested within range, and I imagined stabbing him with a salad fork and watching him scream and flounder around in pain. The thin skin would perforate, giving way to the blood and bone underneath. The images were so vivid that I blinked hard to make them go away, but they wouldn't quit. My head was indeed filled, filled with visions of the only man who gave a shit about me—Peter.

  Vinicio jerked his hand away and let out a stifled cry of pain. He held pressure on it, and my mother looked over with concern.

  "What's wrong, my love?" she asked.

  "I got another cramp in my hand," Vinicio told her, but his green eyes remained on me.

  Liar, my other voice mocked.

  "It's all those late nights writing." Bella pouted.

  I shouldn't have thought something so morbid, but I couldn't stop myself

  from thinking it. For a moment, it seemed like Vinicio was reacting to what I'd imagined, but that couldn't be. The truth was all too blatant. I am powerless and subjected to the whims of my mother and stepfather. They had given me Peter, Sarah, and Myrtle, and they had taken them away without a second thought.

  "We'll get you a new tutor soon," Mother promised.

  The steward excused himself. "Ladies, it's been a privilege, but I'm afraid I have some soul placement to do. Please stay and enjoy dessert." He kissed my mother and left.

  Chocolate cake with cherries was served, and I glared at her.

  "Please don't look at me like that."

  "Was it because I was happy?" I asked.

  "Sweetheart, I want you to be happy. Why can't you understand? I'm doing the best I can for you."

  "This is your best?"

  All I wanted was Peter; why was that so hard? I could forgive the dismissal of Myrtle all those years ago, but not Peter. They couldn't take Peter away from me.

  A servant walked in with two small drinks. "Special compliments of the steward—honeyed wine."

  I couldn't stand being in the same room as my mother and her pathetic counter-guilt trip. I drank the sweet, fermented drink as fast as I could before I got up from the table. Mother was crying as she always did. I hated seeing her cry, but I couldn't back down this time. I didn't want to punish her; I just wanted Peter back.

  I didn't remember returning to my bedroom. The wine went to my head, and I felt nauseous. I rippled beneath the surface of consciousness. I heard the crunching of steps and faint whispers. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't fight sleep. Even the chill of night air and the feeling of soft, damp grass could not rouse me.

  Chapter Two

  I opened my eyes to a full moon and a pitch-black sky. I played with the grass between my fingers, still drowsy from the wine.

  No, poison, a familiar voice echoed within my mind, and I knew it to be the truth. Vinicio had drugged me and left me here, but where was "here"?

  When I sat up, I saw the edge of the Starry Wood. Great ancient trees towered over me, casting shadows in the moonlight. I understood Vinicio's intentions. He was going to leave me to the beasts of the Starry Wood.

  Peter's lecture on this place stirred in my mind.

  "Do you know why they call it the Starry Wood?" he'd asked all those years ago.

  I'd shaken my head.

  "The woodsmen are invisible during the day. At night, they glow with starlight. Some say they swallowed our stars, but I don't think it's true. Anyway, with the woodsmen glowing, the woods look like they have stars."

  "Stars?" I'd asked.

  "Invisible, except they are covered in bright little specks," he'd clarified.

  "In the other life, stars are in the sky, but we don't have them here."

  Woodsmen made no noise, with bodies that were completely invisible but for the stardust that covered them. They were enormous men who ate any soul, no matter who they were.

  It was true what people said—the woodsmen made no noise. It seemed nothing more than the wind rustling the dense forest at first. It was sort of majestic when they emerged from the tree line, the way they sparkled and were illuminated against the trees and the solid black sky.

  Three of them were running straight towards me, and all I could do was stand there like an idiot, frozen in terror. Even if I did run, they would outpace me. How long would it take for Mother to realize I was gone? I shut my eyes and hoped I would be swallowed whole. It would be preferable to being ripped apart.

  I felt the impact of something hitting my left side at full force, sweeping me upward. The gravity-defying moment was jarring, but together, we landed solidly on thick branch several hundred feet from the ground. My savior was a shadowy figure for the most part, but a gruff male voice said, "Don't move," before he bolted towards the woodsmen.

  Could he be one of the vampires Peter had told me about? My eyes struggled to follow him under the light of the moon. He was a blur bolting in and out of sight as he headed towards my attackers. He jumped onto a nearby tree and scaled several hundred feet before diving at an angle towards the first woodsman. The woodsman didn't see him coming.

  The vampire pierced through the creature's belly and leaped at the next starry giant before the body of the first fell to the ground. The woodsmen seemed completely unaware of one another. While the vampire scaled the second one, the third continued in my direction. It was oblivious to the first one's death and the second one's plight.

  Panic filled my chest as the thing drew near, and my rescuer was still embroiled with the second woodsman. I had to move; I had to get away from the creature before it could find me. I headed towards the trunk of the tree. I wanted to climb higher, but I couldn't reach the next branch. I grabbed ahold of the bark and tried to shimmy my way up, but the bark was too jagged and stabbed into my hands.

  Sliding back down the trunk, I looked over to see the woodsman feeling through the trees. Its eyes were closed. It couldn't see me; it was trying to find me by scent. My scent must have been difficult to make out with all the resin on the massive trees. The smell of pine was overwhelming, but, under the circumstances, I was grateful.

  That's it! The resin!

  Instead of jumping and risking injury, I ran to the trunk of the tree, found a large glob of resin, and stepped into it. It felt gross, and I wasn't sure if I would be able to get back out of it. Completely submerged in the sap with only my head and hair exposed, I watched the woodsman search in vain. Its desperate fingers searched for me in the branches. Combing the canopy, it looked right at me, but it couldn't detect me.

  I could no longer see the vampire; he may have been killed. It was best that I waited till dawn before trying to climb down and make my way back to the castle—if I could even get down. It was dark, but I could feel the distance the way one could feel an oncoming storm. I didn't like heights.

  That voice in my head wouldn't quit. He's not going to stop, you know. Vinicio will try to kill you again. Mother won't protect you just because you wish she would.

  The woodsman's search was cut short as the dark figure jumped onto the back of his neck and bore into the creature until it too fell silently.

  "Girl, girl, where are you?" the vampire called.

  "I'm here," I called back.

  He didn't climb the tree; it was more like he was suddenly walking on the branch towards me. It was visibly jarring, and it was then I understood why the vampires were said to be excellent guards. With so few of them, they were strongly encouraged to enlist—though this was the first time I had ever seen one.

  He looked no different than a soul. His hair was a dark brown wavy mass that barely touched his shoulders. His nose was slightly crooked, and his eyes were blue and full of kindness. He was slender and of average height. He wore hide pants, a plain white tunic, and a worn brown coat that trailed around his leather boots. He looked more like a pirate than a blood-drinking, sharp-toothed undead guy. He was nothing like the books or rumors described.

  He was clearly amused with my predicament.
"That was some smart thinking, but how did you plan on getting out of there?"

  "I only planned on not getting eaten," I said, defending my strategy.

  "Hmm." He tilted his head to one side, trying to determine the best course of action. "I was saving this for a special occasion, but I guess you need it more."

  In the light of the moon, I noticed a large scar on the inside of his hand. He reached in and pulled me out by my left arm. With the other hand, he reached into the side pocket of his coat and produced a water skin. "It's not enough to clean you up entirely, but it should help."

  I opened the water skin, expecting water, only to find it was a strong alcohol. My face twisted involuntarily at the smell, and he laughed apologetically.

  "You're not a fan of moonshine, I take it? That's okay; neither am I. It will wash the sap off, though."

  I looked at him before looking down at myself. "Not sure where to start." "I know a place that will have some clothing for a girl your age. I'll take you there before I get you back home. Your mother must be worried sick. How did you get out here in the first place?"

  Two strong hands held me at arm's length as he dropped us to the ground. He unstuck his hands from under my arms, and together we walked into the sunrise.

  Vinicio

  "I don't wish to cause any alarm, but Nora is nowhere to be found," Bella whispered to Vinicio over their breakfast. Bella's blonde curls bounced freely and smelled of roses. Her hair hid some of the creases on her face, a face that perfected desperate and pleading expressions.

  The steward was sucking the marrow from a large bone. When Bella mentioned Nora, he stopped and wiped his face fastidiously. "Do you think she ran away?" he asked.

  "She was so upset about Peter being dismissed. I wanted to talk to her about it this morning, but she was gone."

  Vinicio looked down, contemplating how to say the next few words. "You know, if she had walked out the front entrance, we would have been alerted. That means if she did indeed run away, she would have had to go by the Starry Wood."