By Destiny Bound (The Lost Shrines Book 2) Read online

  "Madd--"

  Before she finished his name, he swore again and raced toward the front door of the Temple.

  Unwilling to be left out, Yve chased after him. If something was wrong, she wasn't going to stand outside and wait. It may not be perfect, but the Order was her life now. The Seryts were her family. The Temple was her home. If it was in trouble, she'd fight for it. And since the rest of the Seryts were in the castle, she was the only one here who could fight for it.

  As soon as she followed Maddyn over the threshold, though, a ragged gasp scraped its way out of her throat.

  The view of the altar, usually so familiar and comforting, had become a nightmare.

  The Kelan sprawled to one side of it, clutching her arm, blood leaking between her fingers. Prince Daen lay unmoving on the floor in front of the shrine. Blood flowed in a crimson stream from his forehead.

  A figure wrapped in a dark red cloak loomed over the prince, knife raised high. Maddyn rushed forward but too much empty hallway separated them. Then the matriarch launched herself at the attacker, grabbing his arm before he plunged the blade into the Daen's chest.

  The world slowed down around Yve, everything happening at once. The assassin twisted and flung Orra aside, her body impacting hard into the unforgiving stone of the altar.

  Maddyn roared, redoubling his speed and rushing into the Centrum. Yve, heart lodged painfully in her throat, picked up her skirt and raced after him.

  The cloaked figure turned to face them. Cold, cruel, black eyes glared out of the dark mask, freezing the blood in Yve's veins with the inhuman malice. Then the assassin leapt onto the altar and dove through the stained glass window in a rain of sharp, glittering shards.

  Maddyn jumped on the shrine to follow, the air around him blurred, white and shimmering, partially obscuring his form.

  "Lord Maddyn, stop."

  The Kelan's voice cut through the pulse of adrenaline, making Yve freeze in her tracks. It had the same effect on Maddyn, who stilled, the haze around him fading until the air cleared and Yve wondered if she'd been seeing things.

  "The king. It's not his time. But healers won't be able to help him now."

  Yve frowned and turned. Prince Daen lay still on the floor, unnaturally pale against the sickly stream of blood. What could Maddyn do that the healers could not? Everyone knew his Attribute was Death. The opposite of what Daen needed now.

  Maddyn stared down at the unmoving man, doubt and determination crisscrossing his face. His breath pushed out in a slow press then he dropped to the floor, kneeling next to the motionless king.

  *****

  Uncertainty twisted its way through Maddyn, freezing him from the inside out. He held himself rigid to keep from shivering in the icy, foreboding grip of doubt.

  Others carrying Death's Attribute had existed, throughout the ages. None, though, had ever shared it across three bodies like he and his brothers did. No Attribute had ever been shared that way.

  And because they shared it, when separated, they each only carried a piece of the Attribute in their souls.

  Phelan sensed death of the past. Felt it wherever he went, constantly touched by its cold fingers.

  Ranulf sensed death to come, knew when a soul had only a few hours or days left to walk the world.

  Maddyn held an awareness of imminent death. He sensed souls balanced on the knife edge between this life and the next.

  According to the legends, the Attribute of Death could end life with a touch, which was why so many feared just their presence. Those that didn't understand the full power of the magic wasn't Maddyn's. To wield even his portion of Death, the Attribute had to be summoned.

  Of course, even fewer knew that there was more to the Attribute than the ballads proclaimed. According to records of his people, the Attribute could also negate the death, if fate had been subverted. If it wasn't the destiny of a soul to depart yet.

  Maddyn and his brother had tried only once. When his parents lay slaughtered by the witch Irana. In grief and despair, Caerwyn had called their Attribute, combining their bodies and souls into a single form more terrifying than any Attribute in memory or myth.

  And still, they'd failed. It had been their parents' fate to die in protection of the Isles that day and not even the Attribute of Death could gainsay that.

  Fear slithered through his chest, constricting his lungs and cutting off his breath.

  But Kelan Orra saw destiny, and she seemed sure of Daen's.

  Maddyn turned his head, looking hard at the matriarch, careful to keep his eyes averted from the confusion and fear playing across Yve's face.

  "Do you know the words?"

  In answer, the Kelan began reciting the ancient chant. The familiar words echoed in the stillness of the chamber, curling around him. Flutters of power ghosted over his skin, wrapping him tighter in the embrace of magic.

  His back itched with phantom sensation, expecting wings that would not burst in the solitary invocation of Death.

  Gritting his teeth, Maddyn closed his eyes against the sparking visions overtaking his sight.

  Orra started the chant for the second time and dizziness swept through him. Fists clenched, breathing ragged, Maddyn felt the Attribute sliding through his veins, growing and stretching and taking control he did not want to give up.

  By the time the third repetition began, Maddyn barely heard the words. His world narrowed to a pinpoint of light in the darkness as Death inhabited his body. Took dominion completely. Ruthlessly.

  He'd only endured the sense of displacement twice before, but it was as horrifying as the first time. To be only a passenger in his own skin made him want to rail against the universes. Instead, he was left mute, numb and frozen. An observer only.

  His mouth opened, and the deep, dispassionate voice of Death ground out.

  "What do you seek?"

  "I seek Death abated."

  "For what purpose do you seek to circumvent Death?"

  "I seek the reparation of destiny diverted. I seek recompense for a Death claimed too early. I seek life in exchange for Death to come at its proper place and time."

  The electric tingle became a racing buzz skimming over his nerves. Pale grey flushed along his skin and the air around him shimmered a soft white. Death stretched out his hands, pressing hard into the unmoving flesh.

  White darkened to grey, condensing over Daen, deepening in color and shrinking until the quickened air became a pitch black shroud.

  Yve gasped, the sound sharp and unexpected in the silence behind Maddyn's hijacked body. He wanted to turn, to see if she was simply surprised.

  Or if disquiet and horror filled her eyes.

  The Attribute had a mission, however, and Maddyn's desires and fear meant nothing to it.

  The silver gleam became sparks dancing up his arms, streaking along his hands and flashing from his fingers. It traced into the blackness covering Daen, spreading out into a spider web of glowing power. Diving into the body beneath.

  Pain exploded in Maddyn's head and the magic felt incomplete. Like his body was missing vital pieces, the magic striving for completion with his absent brothers. Death ignored the limitations of his singular form and the strain on his body, digging deeper into the shadowed unknown, seeking to fulfill the purpose it was called for.

  Within the web of silver, something faint and struggling tangled in the glowing lines. The Attribute reeled it in, pulling it closer until the shadow became a shape. Until the shape stopped struggling. With a ghostly sigh, it sank into the body beneath the intangible black shroud.

  Under the fingers still pressed to Daen's chest, the heartbeat took on a steadier rhythm and the labored breathing eased.

  Inside his own head, the balance shifted, leaving him dizzy and off-kilter.

  The Attribute withdrew completely, and Maddyn pressed his hands harder into the prince's chest to keep himself upright at the sudden change of perspective.

  Daen coughed raggedly, his eyes blinking open. He stared, confu
sed and blank, for a long moment before his eyes slid shut and Daen slipped into unconsciousness.

  Relief squeezed insistently at his heart in exultation despite the weight of exhaustion weighing down his limbs. It worked. He'd saved Daen. But the heavy sensation of loss hadn't faded. Death still stalked someone in the room. Letting the pull of mortality guide him, Maddyn turned, inexplicable terror gripping his heart while he searched the Centrum. Where was Yve? Had the assassin come back when he was immersed in Daen?

  But Yve was behind him, staring in awe between Maddyn and Daen.

  "You saved him," she whispered, eyes wide with wonderment. He'd been expecting fear or disgust. He wasn't sure he liked this reaction much better.

  Maddyn brushed it off with a quick shrug.

  "He wasn't meant to die. I just made sure fate wasn't subverted. He'll still need a healer."

  As he spoke, he let his extra senses roll over her. She was safe. Death hadn't touched her. Yet.

  His awareness pulled his attention reluctantly past her.

  The Kelan had propped herself against the pew. Her back remained straight, her head held high despite being disheveled and shaken from the struggle. Even ruffled, she radiated a serene aura of power.

  Cradling one arm with the opposite hand, she pressed hard, but blood seeped sluggishly through her fingers. It didn't look life threatening. Yet his Attribute thrummed with a different perspective.

  "What happened?" Yve asked, as soon as she turned to see where his attention had been drawn. "Did he cut you when you saved Daen?"

  She dropped to her knees next to the Kelan, reaching to examine the gash.

  "It was the prince who saved me. The assassin was aiming his dagger at my heart when Daen came in and pulled him away. They struggled for the weapon until Daen went down and hit his head on the altar. I got cut when I tried to return the favor."

  "Well, it's deep, but you should heal quickly once we get you to a healer."

  Yve started to rise until Orra reached out with her uninjured arm, holding her in place.

  "No, Yve. I'm afraid, unlike the prince, I am beyond the help of a healer. The knife was poisoned. I can feel the burn of it hastening through my veins already."

  "Maddyn can save you. Like with Daen. Maddyn, come here."

  Yve turned pleading eyes on him and, even if he wanted to, he couldn't have denied her.

  His body still shivered from the effort of carrying Death unaided by his brothers, but he forced his uncertain legs to take the necessary steps and kneel down beside Yve.

  The Kelan shook her head, eyes determined.

  "No. I've already called Maddyn's Attribute. I can't do it a second time. And I won't teach you the words."

  Yve swallowed, unshed tears glittering in her eyes. She turned to him looking lost and hopeless.

  Maddyn opened his mouth, ready to offer the secret of the chant to Yve, despite a promise he'd made to himself years ago never to share it.

  "No," the Kelan stopped them both with a sharp command. "I'm afraid it is my time. Nothing Maddyn can do can change that fate. There are things coming that will destroy more than Galwei, and we can't afford to weaken him further with a useless attempt. And we have more important matters to deal with in the time we have left."

  Yve slumped, reluctantly accepting her matriarch's command. Maddyn pressed closer, offering his silent support with a steadying hand on her back and a shoulder for her to lean into.

  *****

  "Yes, Matriarch Orra," Yve choked out eventually, tears burning her cheeks in twin streaks as she curled over. Maddyn was a silent, solid presence. She probably shouldn't lean on him, but she needed the strength and comfort he offered.

  "Calm, child. Things will become what they were meant to become. You will soon see that for yourself." Orra patted her arm, affection soft in her voice. Yve had to choke back another sob. "Unfortunately, you will not always see it in a timely manner. Or you won't understand what you're seeing."

  Something heavy and meaningful weighted the words, but Yve had no idea what it meant.

  "Matriarch?"

  "I'm sorry you're not prepared for this. And that the other Order is not prepared for you." With shaking hands, the Kelan took off her medallion and lifted it toward Yve’s head.

  When Yve realized what the matriarch intended, she shifted away. "No, that's... I'm just a novitiate. Not even a good one. That's for High-Seryt Brynna."

  Orra frowned, regret deepening the lines around her eyes.

  "Brynna is not here. The Goddess's will moves in unknowable courses. You're here, now, for a reason. The world is changing, and you have an important part to play in that." The Kelan paused, to take a shaky breath. Yve realized she was growing paler and weaker by the minute and guilt welled up at making her mentor's last moment more difficult. When the matriarch moved toward her again, Yve shifted and allowed the chain to drop around her neck.

  "I know this is a burden." Orra grasped the medallion gently and stared determinedly into Yve's eyes. Her voice, raspy and weak, betrayed her growing pain and fatigue. "Promise you will carry it anyway. Promise you will not pass on the gift or the burden until your task is complete."

  "I promise."

  As soon as Yve spoke the oath, something sparked along the metal of the amulet. It raced over her skin, encompassing and suffusing her. Distantly she heard Maddyn's sharp inhale of breath, but she was falling into her own mind.

  A dizzying kaleidoscope of images flashed in an infinite circle, knowing that each image was true and yet each was only a possibility of what may come.

  Red and white battled for supremacy, equally matched and locked in eternal struggle. The prince stood holding a sword before him, reverent faced bathed in a divine glow. Maddyn by her side and walking away. A rain of stones destroying the castle and sun shining on its untouched towers. The circle spun faster and faster. A battle. A celebration. A dance that blurred into a war that became garden...

  Gasping for breath, Yve forced her eyes open. Forced the confusing, horrifying images away. Orra had reclined back against the pew, a satisfied smile ghosting her lips despite the obvious pain now wracking her body.

  "I knew you were important the moment you showed up at our door," the Kelan whispered, words almost disappearing under the strain of speaking. Yve leaned closer, straining to hear everything her Matriarch had to say. "The secret you need to find is in the Kelan's library."

  Yve's tears fell uncontrollably now, and she gripped Orra's hand, wanting to plead with her to stay, but knowing it was futile. Maddyn pressed his hand comfortingly into her back, and Yve was grateful for his silent, steadying presence.

  The matriarch's other hand covered Yve's.

  "You carry the burden, now. And the hope. Trust the gift and trust in yourself." A whisper of energy passed between them. A soft surge flowed from Orra to Yve and back again. Growing in strength, until it broke over Yve, settling within and around her in a sizzling aura.

  At the end, for a brief heartbeat, a second surge spiked, this time passing between Yve and Maddyn. There and gone so quick, Yve barely had time to notice before Matriarch Orra tried to speak. Whispering urgently, she was so weak Yve had to lean in, ear almost to her lips in order to hear.

  "The true knowledge is at the center of the Labyrinth."

  Orra smiled, hands slipping out of Yve's grasp. The light faded from her eyes and a last breath shook through her before her body went still. The room dropped into oppressive silence. The only sound was her own sobs and the labored breathing of Maddyn and Daen, who struggled to lift himself off the floor.

  Yve slumped over the matriarch, paralyzed with reaction and grief-stricken, confused by the way her mind and body buzzed with something she didn't understand. Maddyn stayed close to her, an island of warmth and comfort in the icy, desolate sea of emotion she was drowning in.

  Daen limped his way over, dropping down to one knee on the other side of the Kelan's lifeless body.

  "Pass in peace, Mother Orra
. May the Goddess guide your path to the stars," he murmured and touched two fingers to her forehead in the traditional gesture of farewell.

  Then he turned to Yve, bowed and pressed his palms together over his heart. "You exalt us with your presence, Blessed Kelan."

  The formal greeting stole the air from her lungs, and Yve had to take several gasping breaths before she could even sputter out a few incoherent words.

  "What? No. I'm not..."

  But she was. That was what the matriarch had been saying when she'd asked Yve to promise to carry the burden. She hadn't given Yve the medallion to pass it on. Orra had placed it around her neck. It hadn't been a gift. It was a badge of office. And the buzzing power that had passed between them had been the gift of the Kelan.

  Daen smiled gently at her and repeated, "Greetings, Blessed Kelan."

  -4-

  YVE'S breath caught in her throat for a heartbeat.

  Two.

  Then rushed out in panicked, shallow gasps. Her heart thumped so hard, her ribs ached with the vibration. She wanted to run. Wanted to disappear. Wanted to shout, scream, fight, and hide all at once.

  Instead, she forced words out around the quickened breath pushing in and out of her lungs.

  "But...I'm not," Yve stopped and swallowed heavily.

  Because she was.

  She was Kelan.

  But she wasn't meant to be. Forcing her way to her feet, despite her body's resistance, she stared pleadingly at Daen. "I'm only a novitiate. No one is going to-- Can we keep this a secret?"

  The question came out a desperate rush. She already knew the answer but hoped against hope there was something she hadn't thought of. An escape she didn't know about. Maddyn came to his feet next to her. Close enough to touch. She wanted to let herself lean into him again but now wasn't the time. She could get used to his support much too easily.

  Daen, smears of blood making the lines of pain stand out against the pallor of his skin, gave her a sympathetic look.

  "I'm afraid not. The power is always passed on, whether the Kelan names a successor or not. If no one receives it, if no one claims the title and the gift, it will cause more panic and more problem than if someone--" Daen paused, eyes rife with consternation while he searched for a benign word. He cleared his throat and offered a wan smile. "Than if someone unprepared received it."