Page 34 of To Free a Soul (Duskwalker Beginnings #2)

“Katerina isn’t here,” Lindiwe said out loud so Weldir could be informed.

“Then what do you plan to do?”

Flipping the hood of her cloak over her head, she answered, “Well, obviously I’m going to go make sure he’s okay. That’s all I can do.”

She’d get her answers regardless.

Not long after Lindiwe began her flight, Weldir informed her of something that had her heart racing and her stomach twisting into horrible knots.

Orpheus had not only approached Jabez’s castle, he’d entered it.

Why? she asked herself repeatedly.

If he knew about the Demon Village, he obviously knew of Jabez’s existence, and what the tall, looming castle in the distance meant. Does this mean he’s met Jabez and Merikh?

It’s unlikely he’s in danger. That was the only reason she didn’t ask Weldir to take her straight there. Jabez is friends with Merikh. He doesn’t consider Duskwalkers to be enemies.

Still, another of her children in proximity to him set her anxiety on edge.

Does it have something to do with Merikh?

She couldn’t get her wings to fly fast enough, even if she could cover the great distance in an hour.

But would that hour be too late?

No. Neither Merikh nor Jabez knows how to kill a Duskwalker. Even if Orpheus was hurt, somehow or for some reason, things would be fine.

Unless Merikh...

Lindiwe shook her head.

He may not remember it, but Lindiwe knew, deep down inside, that Merikh had retained something about the death of Nathair. Duskwalkers subconsciously learned.

The grey castle finally came into view.

Despite the ache in her wings, and how the muscles along her arm bones strained in protest, she flapped faster.

Right before she could land in the trees to obscure her approach – her white owl form a dead giveaway to her presence – a beastly roar sliced through the air.

Between the castle doors, Orpheus was being shoved out of the entryway by a throng of Demons.

.. with Merikh at the forefront. Merikh used his dangerous echidna spines to drive him back, causing Orpheus to yelp in pain and dart away.

Merikh gained a foot of space each time, forcibly shoving him back little by little until he was at the bottom of the castle stoop and in the courtyard.

Orpheus feinted to the left, making Merikh and the Demons lurch that way, before he tried to dart past them on the right. Merikh caught him around the waist and used his shoulder to tackle him to the ground.

Both their orbs were red, but Orpheus’ occasionally flickered with white.

Merikh was just too large and strong for Orpheus to fight against; their levels of humanity weren’t comparable. Her wolf-skulled child was half the size in muscle mass to his brother and lacked the intelligence to go toe to toe with someone who was skilled in physical altercations.

When they split apart and Orpheus tried to run around him again, with the wounded Demons shuffling inside, Merikh brought his right leg up. With ungodly strength, he kicked Orpheus so hard in the stomach he was sent skidding backwards across the dirt.

“Leave, Mavka,” Merikh demanded, backing up towards the castle entryway. “There is nothing left for you here.”

Orpheus roared, spun to his hands and back paws in his monstrous form, and lunged.

The towering double doors closed before he made contact, and a purple ward shimmered into place.

He bashed at the entrance, shouldered it, clawed at it, and bellowed repeatedly, but nothing he did allowed him to get through.

He finally relented, only to pace at the bottom of the stairs with quiet, shuddering whines. Lindiwe landed, and he turned to her with a feral snarl. The bottoms of his deep-blue orbs shattered like glass, and ethereal liquid bubbled away to float around his skull.

Before Lindiwe could turn into a human, she froze, utterly stunned.

Is he... crying? Her mouth gaped as her gaze flicked between each floating drop. I didn’t know they could cry.

Then her heart broke for him. She was overwhelmed by the discovery that they could feel on such a deeply ingrained level that they could produce tears and weep, just like a human.

She released the magic that maintained her owl form and drew back her feathered hood. “Orpheus, what’s happened?”

“They took her.” His fish fins flared from the emotional turmoil quaking through his monstrous form.

“What?” Her gaze lifted to the sealed doors behind him. “Why?”

“She said she hated me,” he admitted with a whine, and sat down to cover his skull with his arms to hide it. “I no understand. What did I do bad?”

Coldness crept beneath her skin and drained the warmth from her entirely. She said she hated him? Lindiwe shook her head before frowning to herself. I don’t understand either.

Katerina and Orpheus had an amicable relationship, from what she and Weldir had watched.

They sat in the sunshine when it greeted their garden or tended it together.

They snuggled on the grass out the front of their home – or, rather, Orpheus wrapped himself around her while she wrote in one of her journals or napped against him.

He helped her with laundry or she sat on the stairs watching as he cut down the forest around their home to her liking.

Lindiwe didn’t know what they did inside it, but she’d seen a fraction of it earlier. Katerina had made charms, and Orpheus would have either watched or attempted to help.

Nothing had indicated towards lingering hatred, unless Katerina’s strange reward and punishment system was part of it.

But I just thought she was odd. And Orpheus needed someone who was precious and fragile to keep him in line so he didn’t hurt them.

She also just came across as kind of bitchy no matter what she was doing.

Lindiwe thought that was part of her personality, and she was a difficult person to like.

Which meant Orpheus, who didn’t notice these flaws, was perfect for her in that regard.

With a wheezing whimper, Orpheus looked down at his claws. “Am I a... monster?” he asked, and his shuddering breath made tears well in her eyes.

“Oh, of course not, Orpheus,” Lindiwe said, reaching out to touch him. To pet his beautiful skull and let him know that she accepted him exactly how he was, and to comfort him.

Did she call him a monster? Oh god... Lindiwe could only imagine what else she’d said to him.

He’s not a monster. Maybe a little on the outside, but he was sweet, caring, and always tried so hard.

Humans , who were truly vile and evil beings that tortured and hurt each other, had more potential to be monsters in their hearts than her children.

Their only crime was eating people, but at least they didn’t do horrid things that scarred the mind!

Just as she made contact with the side of his skull, Orpheus struck his right hand forward. “No touch me!”

Lindiwe was flung back as a sharp gasp of pain exploded from her lungs. Her backside landed against the ground while she cupped the claw marks cutting across her right biceps and chest.

The cuts were deep, his claws so sharp they rent through the muscle. Thankfully she constantly wore a scent-cloaking spell when she was on her period, otherwise he would have gone into a bloodlust and immediately tried to attack her.

The whine that came from Orpheus was hollowing. He backed up with his orbs a bright orange.

“I am sorry,” he whimpered, looking down at his bloodied claws as he shook his head. “I am sorry. I no mean...”

“It... it’s okay, Orpheus.” Lindiwe staggered to her feet with a sympathetic smile.

He continued to shake his head, reaching back to claw at his shoulders before rending his claws down his chest. So utterly confused, so distraught, and in so much agony, he could do little more than attack himself over it.

“Orpheus,” Lindiwe called, reaching out once more to show him that it was truly okay.

“Stay away,” he warned quietly, while his trembling form backed up on all fours. “Bad Orpheus. Evil. Monster.”

Before Lindiwe could say anything more, his teary, orange orbs deepened, and he bolted to the side. Away from her, from the castle, and likely from himself.

She took a step in the direction he went before curling her hands into fists and halting.

Her eyes bowed with anguish. “Oh, Orpheus.”

Lindiwe watched him go, knowing that if she were to follow him, she’d only make matters worse. She’d make him run faster, causing him to fret and panic that he was being followed.

Bringing her gaze to the doors of Jabez’s castle, a question lingered in her mind. Why did I not see this coming?

This had never been on her long list of potential outcomes.