Page 24 of To Free a Soul (Duskwalker Beginnings #2)

Rustling trees seemed to deepen the foreboding shadows of night, swaying and moving to make it appear as though something might be lurking if one looked too closely.

Rocks could easily be mistaken for the warped head of a Demon, or perhaps that was just the Veil allowing paranoia to slip down her spine.

White mist coasted across the ground, cold, wet, and haunted, which made seeing beyond the brush more difficult.

At night, the clacking of branches or the groaning of trees could be mistaken for nightmarish creatures creeping closer. The wind whistled, and sometimes it sounded like whispers or frightfully quiet screams.

The outer ring of the Veil was a terrible place, and as each year passed and more Demons exited the portal from Nyl’theria to Earth, it only grew more dangerous.

Lindiwe had nothing to fear, not when she flew above it in search of the home she sought. It was easy to find from a distance, as the blue glittering dome surrounding it was just bright enough to be seen.

She tipped her wings to bank to the right in that direction and then proceeded to circle it. The gap between the trees was just wide enough to highlight a log cabin home still in its early stages of construction.

Building something of that size would take time and craftsmanship that Orpheus didn’t have. He’d restarted multiple times. Mostly because he made mistakes and had to amend them, or his human companion demanded it be expanded multiple times because its initial smaller size was inadequate.

A home was a home.

So long as she ends up being happy with it, that’s all that truly matters. Whatever Katerina wanted, both Orpheus and Lindiwe would do their best to give it to her.

Sitting next to a small campfire, a lone pair of eyes lifted up to Lindiwe. Orpheus was nowhere to be seen, to her dismay.

It takes longer for him to hunt now that they’re deeper in the Veil. At least he’d mostly learned how to hunt his prey without scaring it off or eating it.

It proved that he was a good boy who just needed time to learn. Time to adjust.

Lindiwe curled her talons tighter, unsure about whether to land or not. Orpheus may be unsettled that she’d been in his territory, and within his protection magic, without him. He may not like her near his precious human.

It’s better he’s not here. Katerina couldn’t use him as a shield, and he’d likely get in the way of them having a cohesive argument.

Deciding this was a blessing, Lindiwe glided within Orpheus’ blue protection ward, encasing herself in the dome for safety. She landed a few metres away from Katerina.

She pulled her white-feathered hood back and shook out her curls until they sat comfortably.

Then she turned to the woman seated on the ground with a rather nasty scowl upon her remarkably beautiful and pale face.

Not even her angered, tight features could steal the attractive shape of her thin nose, plush lips, and angular cheeks.

“Y-you,” Katerina sneered with a shivering stammer. She pulled her hands back from where she’d hovered them near the fire for warmth. “W-what do you want?”

Lindiwe’s bare toes skimmed the muddy ground, occasionally brushing against a blade of grass that had survived Orpheus’ upturning of the soil.

He’d removed dozens of trees in just a few short months, including their stumps, and had debarked the trunks to use them for the house.

There were still hundreds left, most thick enough in diameter to be used as foundations.

What wasn’t suitable would be used as frames for furniture or for her firewood.

“Rain is coming, which is when my magic is best suited for growth,” Lindiwe answered, checking behind Katerina at Orpheus’ handiwork. “Where is the garden? I want to make sure everything is planted correctly before I grow it.”

“What g-garden?” Katerina asked, her pink lips thinning.

Lindiwe’s brows drew together. “A fruit and vegetable patch? I gave you both seeds in order to grow some.”

“D-do I look like a farmhand to you?” Katerina bit, gesturing to her dirtied dress, cloak, and blanket. “I-I’m not designed for labour. Orpheus hasn’t gotten to it yet. I n-need shelter because, as you stated, the rain comes soon and its f-f-f-ucking winter. But he’s taking so damn long.”

Stemming the urge to cringe in disgust at the woman, Lindiwe shook her head. “Shouldn’t food and water be your first priority?”

She shrugged. “He g-gets me food.”

“And that’s why your home is taking so long,” Lindiwe answered curtly. She waved to the barely constructed building. “If you would help him by building your own garden and tending to it, then he wouldn’t need to leave every few days to hunt for you.”

“I don’t know how!” Katerina exclaimed, curling her hands together in search of warmth.

“You know how to read,” Lindiwe argued. “You’ve been reading the journal to help Orpheus build your home, and if you’ve read it in full, there’s an explanation on how to grow your own garden at the back of it. How to turn the earth, plant the seeds, and how much space you need in between.”

“I-I’ve never been good with plants. I k-kill all that I touch.”

Lindiwe rolled her eyes, simply because the woman was just being infuriating on purpose. Her incompetence stemmed from a complete lack of trying, which made little sense when she needed food to survive!

It’s like Katerina wanted to sit there and be miserable, rather than aid her situation.

And for someone who had grown up using her bare hands to help her father tend to the family farm, Lindiwe just couldn’t understand this mindset.

When the going got tough, everyone pitched in to help make sure there was food and water on the table, otherwise death would be knocking on their doorstep.

Lindiwe’s nostrils flared as she took in a deep, calming breath through her nose, only to release it, and all her annoyance, out of her mouth before she said something callous.

“Use the crates the nails were in to build a fence. It doesn’t take much effort to use a hammer and a few nails. If you make the garden and plant everything properly , I can keep it healthy when rain falls.”

Katerina averted her gaze, with one side of her lip twitching upwards like she wanted to sneer. “T-then you do it.”

Something cold and cruel lanced her heart, and Lindiwe rolled her shoulders back defiantly. “I’m not your mother. Do it yourself.”

Katerina’s bottom lip fell, and her eyes grew wide, like she couldn’t believe how Lindiwe had just spoken to her. “How dare you speak to me like that!” Katerina folded her arms across her chest. “Y-you’re younger than me. You s-should do as you’re told when someone asks for help.”

“Younger than you?” Lindiwe laughed. “Katerina, I’m almost two hundred years old.”

That made the woman’s features pale. “Fucking witch,” she muttered, loud enough for Lindiwe to hear it. She hunched her shoulders as she drew her cloak tighter over her body. “M-m-must be nice being young and beautiful forever, e-even at the cost of your soul.”

“Oh, how true that is,” Lindiwe answered with a dark smirk. “Get off your arse and help. If you sit here much longer, sulking like a bratty child, then you’ll be sure to wither away.”

Katerina scoffed. “Good.”

Unbelievable! Lindiwe palmed her face with one of her hands in frustration. And I thought speaking with Duskwalkers was hard. At least they try , even if they often fail.

She brought her other hand up and massaged her temples wearily, the conversation sucking all the energy out of her.

Finally Lindiwe let out a sigh and then reached underneath her feathered cloak to a pocket sewn inside it.

She fished out a stone with an Anzúli symbol etched on it and held it out by its thick red twine.

“Look, we got off on the wrong foot,” Lindiwe conceded, reaching out to give the talisman to the woman. “I come with a peace offering.”

From the corner of her eye, Katerina assessed it, then backhanded it so hard it flung out of Lindiwe’s grasp and landed on the ground. “I don’t want anything from you. I don’t want your hexes or spells.”

Holding back a growl, Lindiwe stomped over to the talisman, picked it up, and held it out to her again. “It will warm you. You’ll no longer need to worry about winter, and I have medicinal herbs that will fight back any sickness.”

There was even a bathing oil Orpheus would need to apply to her body to hide her human scent. All instructions for everything was noted on a piece of parchment.

“I-I’d rather freeze to death.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Lindiwe bit out. “Frostbite is a horrible affliction, and the possible death from it is long, painful, and disorientating. How would you like your fingers and toes to rot and fall off while you’re still alive?”

Okay, so maybe they wouldn’t actually fall off, but they’d definitely rot, and she was hoping that frightening the poor woman would make her see some sense.

It worked.

“F-fine.” She snatched it from Lindiwe’s open palm and curled her hands around it. “Now wha–”

Katerina’s lips promptly shut when the symbol glowed pink, and she proceeded to shudder with a blissful moan. She held it tighter and brought her knees further up, like she wanted to encase her body around it completely.

It wasn’t necessary. Just holding it affected the whole body.

“All you need to do is wear it on your person,” Lindiwe explained as she pulled a pouch of herbs from her cloak pocket.

“The tea is easy to make with a campfire, and it’s best if you swallow the ingredients.

It should energise you, as much as keep you well, and you only need a pinch, so make it last.”

Pouting, Katerina swiped that from her palm as well with her head turned away.

For a few heartbeats, the only sound shared between them was the crackling of the fire. Lindiwe drew her gaze to the tiny, makeshift shelter of logs that was barely enough to keep out the rain. It only looked big enough for Katerina and Orpheus to lie down together, with little space between them.

Space she doubted Orpheus would allow.

It’s a shame Weldir can’t see through Orpheus’ ward clearly.

He could only see through the outside of the magical blue dome, like one peeking in through a window but being stuck outside.

The canopy of trees often made it impossible to know what was going on.

They couldn’t check on them properly, and Lindiwe couldn’t spend every minute of her days watching them in person from within the forest.

“Well?” Katerina bit out, and she narrowed her stare on Lindiwe. “Is that all?”

“A thank you would be nice.”

“Why should I thank you?” Katerina huddled further around the talisman. “You’re only keeping me alive to help him. Nothing you’re doing is actually for my benefit.”

Lindiwe’s stomach twisted into a horrible, sickly, nauseating knot because... she was right. The guilt of that was a burning slice against her heart and spirit, and she had to hold back the tears that threatened.

All the anger she’d held onto for the woman due to her less than welcoming behaviour instantly faded. Katerina had every right not to trust her, nor to be amicable about her assistance or presence.

Because all Lindiwe was thinking about was the happiness and wellbeing of her son, at the cost of Katerina’s life.

But I really do hope that once she has a warm and safe home, with an abundance of food and water, she’ll come to care for Orpheus. It was hard to grow tender feelings for someone when the environment was less than pleasant.

Lindiwe understood that.

If she’s happier, maybe she’ll trust him. He already seemed to be rather affectionate with her, near purring as he rubbed his skull against her black hair and cheek while holding her.

It was more than Lindiwe had ever gotten.

Although less intelligent than some of his older siblings, Orpheus was sweeter and more malleable. He didn’t argue and just agreed to whatever Katerina thought best. He did whatever she demanded, and Lindiwe strove to help him achieve what should have been impossible goals.

Orpheus was trying to appease his companion, whereas Weldir was argumentative and often devoid of emotion and affection.

It was getting better, though. Weldir was turning into someone Lindiwe found her heart flipping for in the oddest of moments, but their beginning... their foundations were rockier than Orpheus and Katerina’s. Feelings could develop, so long as their hearts were open to it.

Surely everything he was doing would come to be appreciated. They just... need time. Much like how she and Weldir had needed time to get where they were now: they could share in each other’s prolonged presence without it feeling stuffy and awkward.

Lindiwe stepped back and bowed her head apologetically at Katerina. “Build the garden and I will grow it. It will be ready to be harvested straight away, and then you can seed it again.”

“I’ll think about it,” Katerina said, unfurling herself so she wasn’t so tightly drawn inwards. She sat more comfortably now that she had a true source of warmth against the bitter cold.

Lindiwe flipped her hood up and willed the shift. She threw back her wings, bent her digitigrade legs, and lifted off.

The last thing she heard was Katerina sneer, “Fucking witch owl.”