Page 76 of To Free a Soul (Duskwalker Beginnings #2)

I want to keep watching them. Lindiwe had never been this interested in any of Orpheus’ offerings, but things had also never gone this well before. But I can’t stare at their house all day.

After safely returning from Spiral Haven, Orpheus and Reia had spent much of their time inside for nearly two days straight.

She would have thought they’d died if it wasn’t for the fireplace and candles illuminating it at night.

The salt barrier kept her from seeing with her scrying spell due to magic keeping her out.

She wasn’t privy to anything personal that happened between them – she just kept her fingers and toes crossed that all was going well.

Most days, Reia went outside to train with her sword. Orpheus was often by her side, helping in his own way.

All Lindiwe could think was: He’s matured so much.

Seeing him interact with another being who not only accepted his presence but welcomed it was new. She hadn’t realised that Orpheus had grown so much, despite his humans often perishing – many by his own fangs.

Reia was cute, in her own way. She was a stern person, who obviously didn’t let anyone push her around, yet her cheeks were quick to stain with a blush. She often made herself flustered, especially in Orpheus’ presence.

Was it enough? It felt like they were racing against time.

Her anxiety was growing by the day with Jabez’s threat lingering over her head, and she hated this wait. This feeling of uselessness. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t linger in the trees day in and day out like a creep.

Lindiwe was aware of the... intimate ...

nature of their relationship now, and she just couldn’t bear to snoop in person and witness it.

It felt sickeningly wrong. She’d caught a glance in her viewing disc of an outside dalliance, and she’d waved away her scrying spell so quickly she’d bashed her hand against the wall.

It was making it difficult to monitor them.

One thing I know for sure: Jabez won’t attack while Orpheus is there. He wouldn’t win, even with his teleporting ability. He’d never been able to do so in the past, and he couldn’t enter the salt circle while Orpheus was there.

Unable to subdue her unease without checking on them, she brought up her viewing disc to see they were outside together.

Reia was on her hands and knees, tending the garden happily. He held a basket for her as she placed vegetables in it. Orpheus’ tail, no longer hidden away due to someone else’s disgust, shifted slightly in joy whenever Reia smiled at him – like he was just waiting for it patiently and sweetly.

This is what I always wanted for him. Someone to see who her children really were, and that they were beautiful, kind, protective, and deserving of love. Orpheus doted on her every way he possibly could, and it was nice to see someone not abuse that.

And this particular someone had opened her arms to Orpheus first, rather than it seeming like he was clinging to her skirt for scraps of affection.

They went back inside, then not long after, stepped onto the porch together.

Lindiwe’s heart nearly exploded with joy when Reia stepped closer of her own volition and slipped her arms around his midsection for a cuddle. Obviously surprised by it, it took him a moment to wrap his arms around her shoulders and draw her in tighter.

His orbs morphed to a bright pink.

Lindiwe sat up straighter and leaned forward to see better. I know because of Aleron that their orbs can turn that colour, but I’ve never seen it happen before. Her pulse raced in excitement. What does pink mean?! She’d been waiting since Aleron’s birth to know!

Whatever it signified, it was obviously a pleasant emotion.

Is it... love? Her lips pursed in thought.

Then why did they never turn that colour for Katerina?

Unless... did Orpheus never love her? Then again, how could love form when all Katerina did was throw salt into his garden of affection, rather than tend to it with nourishment?

Obsession, fascination, curiosity – these things had been apparent, but perhaps never anything as deep or as tender as love.

Orpheus’ orbs shifted to bright yellow during their conversation. “You are funny, my little doe. If they do not fear Mavka, then they will not fear you and your little sword.”

Reia lowered her sword with a pout. “That’s not nice, Orpheus.”

He answered her with a light chuckle.

They’re going to practise. They did this almost every day, then they would go inside so Reia could cook, bathe, and whatever else it is they did. I’m glad she’s finding the book I told her to get useful.

Seeing that they were fine, together, safe, and most of all, happy, Lindiwe changed the image to a different child. Although she had the ability to bring up multiples at the same time, she refused to weaken Weldir when she didn’t have to.

You worry me, Leonidas. After so many years, he’d found the courage to return to the centre of the Veil. He didn’t linger, often wandering the surface where it was safer, but he currently approached the village.

He eventually headed inside it, and the spell around it stopped her from scrying on him.

She moved onto Merikh, who had immersed himself within a new human city.

His glamour allowed him to weave through the crowd of people without issue, and Lindiwe had no idea what the citizens saw.

The blue mana stone hanging from a silver chain, tapping against his bony forehead, only glowed when he was in the presence of humans.

Oddly enough, he said he wanted to fit in, yet he was surly with everyone he spoke to.

She couldn’t help smiling when she summoned Ingram and Aleron to the forefront. They mirrored each other’s movements in reflected parallel as they wandered through the Veil. A poor, unsuspecting Demon caught their attention.

Perhaps due to their special bond, it was rare that they attacked each other when they were enraged and mindless. They argued with growls and snarls, fought a little over their prey, but never truly turned on each other with hostility.

The Demon was ended quickly, and they played tug-of-war with its corpse.

Now that she’d started, she couldn’t help checking on them all.

It was easy to lose herself in their moments as she watched them. She lingered each time, feeling the waves of loneliness slowly creeping up the sands of her psyche like an incoming tide. She was used to it, and that was why she found it easier to become a spectator.

Her home had become a prison of solitude.

The afternoon crept in, and Lindiwe lay on her hard bed on her side. She got lost staring at Odie. It’s been a while since I saw him.

“Weldir?” Lindiwe called, just to know if he was there or not.

Silence greeted her.

I’m tired, she thought, as her eyes grew heavier.

She summoned a different child, and a jackal skull came into view.

I really wish he would wake up. He’s able to watch over them all at the same time. Maybe then Lindiwe could close her eyes and properly rest, as she hadn’t been able to since Reia had successfully travelled to the Veil.

It comforts me to know he’s there. Even if she had to keep her heart closed off to the best of her abilities.

Her eyes drooped under the weight of her constant restlessness and unease, the nights of difficult sleep catching up to her. She finally drifted off while watching Balam, her jaguar-skulled son, hunting through the jungle.

When Lindiwe’s eyes peeked open, day was about to break. She stretched, her back arching off the bed, until she felt a twinge just above her hip.

She began her mornings like most.

Deciding on whether or not she actually wanted to eat, since it was no longer a requirement but more for enjoyment.

Then she pulled her journal out and detailed everything noteworthy from the day before, leaving out her thoughts and feelings.

She’d never been interested in going back to read over her journeys to experience her mental decline.

Most of the Duskwalkers in the southern hemisphere will either be asleep or just going to sleep. Reia is also human, so she and Orpheus should be asleep at this hour.

She scried for those in the northern hemisphere, the many that there were.

Once done making sure none of them needed her – they never did – she tended to her herb garden.

Having medicine was useful, and she often made her own soaps, shampoos, oils, and other care products.

She liked to be clean , even if all she had to bathe in was river water.

Midmorning came, a time when most of her children in Austrális or South Unerica would begin moving. The rotation of her duties continued, and she brought up her first viewing disc as she packed her basket to go bathe.

Expecting to see Orpheus’ home when she scried for him, she halted midway through collecting a final toiletry item. He was in the forest, chasing after some unseen thing, with orbs stark white.

Her basket and everything in it clattered to the ground when she knocked it to the side as she scrambled to the hook where her cloak was. She almost tripped face-first into the wall, and the hook ripped through the hood when she grabbed it to stop herself from falling.

It was fine – it was still intact.

“Fuck,” Lindiwe snapped out as she threw it around her shoulders. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” She grabbed the handle for her door and yanked it back, shoving herself over the threshold. “Reia!”

Because Lindiwe knew one thing for certain: Orpheus wouldn’t be heading towards the centre of the Veil, in the direction of Jabez’s castle, if she wasn’t there. She’d seen it in the distance, watched as his snout lifted in that direction with a whine.

“She was taken.” Lindiwe threw her ripped hood over her head, and a loose feather fell down her face. “Curses. I thought they were fine!”

She transformed and lifted off in her owl form. She couldn’t see Jabez’s castle from where she was. She’d made her home on the complete opposite side of the inner ring of the Veil.