Page 3 of The Pactbound Angel (The Soul Mirror Duet #1)

“Anyway, we played cards and talked. He wasn’t very good, mind.

I beat him almost every hand. But you don’t go braggin’ to a fellow like that.

Elijah Callan ain’t no fool. I simply chuckled and asked him to pour more wine in recompense.

He laughed and did so. The evening went on.

I knew I shoulda been watchin’ the camp, but this fellow was such fine company that I didn’t want to leave. ”

Elijah took another hefty swig and wiped his mouth.

“I told him I just wanted to make it out alive, ya know? Make it back home to my missus. He got a serious look on his face and asked what I would give for that. Thinkin’ he was joshin’ me, I said, ‘All the money I had.’ He replied, ‘the pact is sealed.’ I looked at him all dumbfounded, and he asked me to repeat the words.

I blubbered ‘em, but I said ‘em. Then, his eyes just lit up like a lantern. He extended his hand and, bless me, I gave him my gold. I don’t know what got into me, but it seemed as natural as breathin’.

He told me to stay at the back of the line the next day.

He snapped his fingers again, and there I was again.

Back in camp. It was still dark out. Everyone still asleep.

I even checked the time candle. Not a single nail had dropped since I went into that room, fellas.

I swear to ya. When my watch ended, I didn’t get a wink o’ sleep. ”

A haunted look passed over Elijah’s face. “The next day, the sapper tunnel caved in. Only I made it out.” The old guard brought the wineskin back to his mouth but did not drink.

Someone asked if it was fate, or if this Ramiren had caused it .

Elijah shook his head and replied in a mutter, as though he no longer wanted to tell the story. “He dealt fairly with me, that broodling. I went home to my missus.”

He downed what was left of his wine.

Three years later, I was once again guarding a wagon train traveling along the outskirts of the Irenian Swamp. Having long gone numb to the routine, my life at least had the predictability I craved. Arrive at a city, find a caravan charter, sign up, travel. Rinse and repeat.

My caravan master called a stop to trade with another caravan headed in the opposite direction, though for what I couldn’t tell and it wasn’t my business to ask. Their load appeared lighter with a few passengers taking advantage of the warm weather and dry roads.

Staying alert for trouble or an ambush, this road was a popular one for highway bandits looking for a quick bit of coin.

My eyes fell on a woman with long auburn hair, wearing the red robes of a Minuen priestess, ambling along the carts.

Her back was turned to me as she peeked inside the overloaded wagons.

Curiosity mixed with a strange sense of familiarity made me step closer.

She straightened and half-turned in my direction, showing a familiar half-mask adorning her face. In shock, I blurted out, “Raewyn?”

The masked woman spun around, and her eyes went wide. “Nat?”

My slack-jawed gaze rested on my sister for the first time in years, since her temple training began.

The rare communication I could send often didn’t come with a reply, but I chalked that up to my moving around so often.

She was here now, though, and that was all that mattered.

Raewyn had grown into a full-fledged priestess of Minue, and the Goddess of Love and Beauty had been kind to her.

Her porcelain mask still covered her scars, making her look regal. Always lovely .

My amazement hushed my words. “What are you doing here, Raewyn?” Taking her soft hands in mine, I spread her arms wide to get a good look at her.

What a beautiful woman she grew into. Far more than me, though I admitted my bias.

Her hair, so much like our mother’s, was artfully curled about her shoulders.

Warm brown eyes that could be mistaken for gold in the right light met mine with a hint of impish mischief in them.

She chuckled. “Oh, just traveling from Evraka for the church. I trained some noble girls there. What are you doing here, Nat?” Her lips pursed as she looked over my armor, reaching out with one hand to touch my shield and weapon.

She grimaced, rubbing her fingers together when the oil I used to keep my equipment rust-free dirtied them.

She wiped her hand on my sleeve, trying to make it seem like an affectionate gesture.

“Isn’t this beneath you? Guarding caravans?

” She removed her other hand from mine and looked behind me at the wagon train.

My tongue clicked in disapproval. I followed her line of sight and turned back to her. “All deserve protection, Raewyn. Remember Father’s teachings.”

She shrugged, adjusting the red shawl around her shoulders. “If you say so. Me, I remember Mom’s teachings. All are deserving of love.”

All are deserving of either a kiss to the forehead… or an axe to the face. My mother had been half-joking when she said that, as she kissed my forehead.

My eyebrow raised in challenge while my arms crossed. “Mother never said love.”

“Well, maybe not to you .” She grinned teasingly. She patted my hand like an affectionate grandmother. “You deserve it, Nat. You just need to learn how to give and receive it.”

“Love?”

“No. Oral pleasure.” Her grin widened, biting her lip at my no-doubt exasperated expression. “Yes. Love. But the aforementioned oral pleasure might do you some good, too.”

Though protection was intrinsically an act of self-sacrifice, a kind of love where you put another’s worth above your own, what Raewyn meant was different.

But what did I know? Aside from my family, love had only been something I’d read about, never experienced.

Putting my shield in a weapon’s path for another’s benefit, I would argue, was a form of love.

And I’ve certainly never been in love. Infatuations, sure, but never that.

Inspiration had never prompted me to give it.

Raewyn departed her caravan to join ours.

Her former escort faded into the distance, and we continued toward our ultimate destination of Evraka.

After stowing her small pack into a wagon, Raewyn and I caught up.

She spoke of Camlynn, of our parents and how they were doing.

My four other siblings had reportedly sprouted like weeds in the year I’d last seen them.

I told her of my travels and the difficulties I had faced.

She seemed to be half-listening to my accounts of other guards, bandits, and the occasional battle, but in her defense, my tellings sounded more like a registrar report than a story.

Soon after, we found ourselves, our caravan, alone on the wide road.

It was silent aside from the lull of animals and wagon wheels.

It felt like the calm before a storm. I didn’t like it.

Something is wrong.

Sidling up to the head wagon, I murmured to Simar, the caravan master, who sat perched up on the wagon’s riser, “Look sharp, sir. Something’s amiss.”

Simar looked over his shoulder and called out, “All hands, look alive!” I took my shield off my back as my sister stood, watching warily.

She shrugged, shaking her head in confusion. “Nat, what’s- ”

“Best get in a wagon, Raewyn,” I whispered while strapping the shield to my left arm. She frowned but did as I told her. After ensuring the tarp to hide Raewyn was secured, my hand gripped the longsword at my side, and I waited.

And waited.

My confidence in my instincts began to waver, when a cry off to my left broke the quiet.

“Now!”

Lifting my shield up under my eyes, my gaze trained on a group of men in crude armor, carrying handaxes, rust-pocked swords, and clubs, rising from the prairie brush lining the road.

They charged the caravan through knee-high brown grass with guttural yells no doubt designed to intimidate their targets.

Finally.

The fastest bandit rushed me, yelling, and I raised my shield to block his first blow.

It clanked off the metal, the attack countered without effort.

Punching forward with my shield, bashing him in the face to stun him, I pulled my longsword from its sheath in a quick backhanded draw, using the momentum to slice across his middle.

He screamed in pain and surprise, dropping his club to cover the deep wound with his hands.

Another ran at me as I twirled my sword in my hand to right it.

My shield popped up to catch his downward slash.

His sword bounced hard as he gave a two-handed swing.

My arm felt the bruising impact, going numb for a second.

I parried his second attack with my sword, tapping the tip to unbalance him, and stepped in, keen on shortening the distance between us.

He stumbled, swinging wildly to stop my advance.

Parrying again, this time closer to his hilt, my blade swept his far to the side.

He was thrown off-balance again, leaving his back unguarded, and it was my time.

I cut across his spine, leaving a deep cut through his thin leather armor.

He screeched, arching back violently, and fell to the ground.

A third came for me, and I smiled .

They’re attacking me one at a time. Idiots .

This one, too, was quickly felled.

Other bandits engaged with other guards around me.

Some guards were having trouble keeping their opponent at bay, making me rush to assist. Stabbing my sword through the back of one as I passed, his club raised high over a tripped guard, the cutthroat gurgled and stumbled away into the grass.

I ran to another, blocking a death blow with my shield while the guard next to me took the opportunity and finished the bandit off

Quickly scanning the area showed a few guards unconscious and lying in the dirt, blood seeping out from under them. But the situation appeared to be under control.

A few bandits ran back into the grass, with guards following them in their rout.

I called out, “Raewyn!”

My sister peeked out from under the canvas, coughing from the tarp’s dust. She waved her hand in front of her face. “Yeah?”

“Can you heal them? Some might still be alive.” I passed my sword to my left hand and walked over to help her out of the wagon.

She nodded and planted her feet on the ground, glancing about. “I can, yes.” She headed to the nearest fallen man and began to kneel next to him.

“That’s an enemy, Raewyn.”

She wobbled, standing back up. “Oh. Well, how can I tell them apart?” She crossed her arms, looking around again.

“Our guards have red bands on their arms.” I said, tapping the wide red cloth tied around my right bicep.

“Oh. Clever.” She moved to a downed guard and put a hand on his back. Prayers fell from her lips immediately. A moment later, the man opened his eyes and groaned. He rolled over and raised his head, making me sigh in relief.

Tomik’s wife won’t be made a widow today.

Cleaning my sword on the shirt of a dead bandit, I placed it back in my scabbard.

Raewyn, sitting in a cart as I walked beside her, talked most of the way to Evraka, telling me of her tutoring, the girls she trained, and the mischief she got into while exploring the largest city in Laeth and the center of all trade on the continent.

There was a pause after another entirely inappropriate story when Raewyn muttered under her breath like it was a secret, “The traveling Fey Carnival was just opening when I left Evraka. We could go tomorrow night.”

My feet stopped cold. Trepidation, and something akin to fear, rippled through me, as did the sudden chill rolling down my spine.

She hopped down from the cart and took my left hand in her two smaller ones. “Oh, come on! It’ll be fun, if you remember what that is, and we haven’t gone since we were kids, remember?”

“Yes, Raewyn. I remember well. I remember we were caught by that hag, cursed even. Sound familiar? Mischief hag? Ringing any bells?” I stood, rod straight and flabbergasted that she would suggest such a thing could ever be fun.

Raewyn exclaimed, never to be denied, “Exactly! And maybe we’ll find out how to get rid of said curse. Hm? Oh, you know you want to, Nat.”

My arguments died in order to consider my sister’s idea. Yes, perhaps we could find out how to rid ourselves of the curses. Going to the crime’s location might actually be beneficial. If nothing else, perhaps going into the Hall again, seeing it as just a building and nothing more…

Still, the trepidation remained, as long forgotten memories crept into my mind. The hag’s green eyes. My sister’s screams, and my bruised fists as I attempted to defend her.

She’ll go, with or without me. I would rather she have my protection .

“Very well. I will go with you.” I huffed a sigh, resigned as logic overtook reluctance.

Raewyn grinned and twirled as she spoke in a sing-song voice, “And maybe we’ll finally get you bedded.”

A growling groan left me as my eyes closed, my patience already wearing thin. Not this again. It’s as though I never left. “Thank you, but I’d rather not.”

Her head snapped to me, as though a thought had just come to mind. “You still haven’t bedded anyone, right? I can tell. Your spine is still all… upright and stiff.” She waved her hand in the air toward me. “And you still don’t smile. Definitely a virgin.”

Feeling more irritated at her insinuation than her actual words, my face heated.

“My spine is not stiff . I just have excellent posture, which has absolutely nothing to do with my lack of…” A quick look around ensured no one could overhear us.

I went on, whispering harshly, “...sexual partners.

And why exactly does it matter if I'm a virgin? I want to be married. I want my husband to be my only lover. Why is that so bad, Raewyn?”

“Because you’re missing out on all the fun! Caravans and ‘protect the innocent’ is all well and good, Nat, but you could be having a full life.” She smirked at me, putting hands on her hips. “You know there are more uses for a sword than just in battle.”

“Raewyn! I intend to have a full life. When I get married .”

She blew a raspberry and waved her hand at me again. “As serious as ever, I see.”

“And thank the gods for it too, Raewyn. I take my future seriously. Now, get your behind back in the cart. You’ll get dirty.”