Soul Forge (Book One of the Soul Forge series)

“What did I tell you not to do?” the King growled, folding his arms across his broad chest. Elda rolled her eyes, tired of the same rhetoric.

“Sneak out to the forest.”

“And what did you do?” His nostrils flared, a vein in his neck pulsing as he loomed in her doorway.

“I went to the forest.”

“How do I keep you safe if you’re so determined to get yourself killed?” Hrothgar demanded, his fist slamming against the doorframe on the last word. Elda arched an eyebrow.

“Get better locks.” That was a mistake. The King slammed the door shut and locked her in. She waited for his footsteps to fade before she pulled out the lockpick, amused that he thought a closed door would be enough to make her stay put. A triumphant smile lit her cheeks at the satisfying click that followed, the door swinging inwards.

She slipped out and made her way back through the maze of hallways, pulling up the hood of the cloak she’d fashioned from several of her dresses. She kept her head down as a handmaid hurried by with an armful of clean linens, letting out a breath when nobody called after her.

Leaving the palace was the easy part. Getting outside the city was where the difficulties lay. She kept her face covered while she wandered the streets, blending in nicely in the trousers and tunic she’d pilfered from the barracks. Nobody paid her any mind when she ducked down a dead end alley and didn’t reappear. Months ago, she’d discovered her father’s escape route if anything ever happened to the city. It was intended for the citizens, but today it was her way out, if she could find the mechanism.

Her fingers searched the outer wall at the end of the alley, brushing over the small rune pressed into the smooth stone. She’d found it at last. Tracing a circle around it with her fingertip, Elda watched it illuminate. She shaped her father’s initials next, grinning when a section of the wall became transparent.

The forest beyond felt close enough to reach out and touch it, so that’s exactly what she did. Her hand slid through the wall like it wasn’t there and clutched waxy green leaves, still damp with morning dew.

As soon as the rest of her was through she broke into a jog, exhilarated by the space and the freedom the outside provided. Her nerves settled as she ran further away, fears for her future subsiding until they were a distant memory.

She regretted her choice to sneak out again right around the moment the demon saw her.

Its skin was rough and white, stretched over sinewy muscle like old leather, and stained with blood from the deer carcass it devoured. The only features on its blank face were a gaping hole filled with rotten fangs, and one small, beady black eye. Elda tried to sneak away, but her boot came down on a twig that cracked like cannon fire.

Its head raised with a disjointed jerk and a moment of tense, unending silence passed. She watched in horror, muscles too frozen to reach for her bow, as it swallowed the leg hanging out of its maw and stood. The wet squelch of meat and bone being ground to paste made bile rise in Elda’s throat. A howl rattled her teeth, and then it was chasing her, taking great strides on its gangly legs. She leapt over a protruding root, disoriented by fear, trying desperately to remember which way was the right way to the city.

One demon became more. Suddenly she was sprinting away from a small horde of them, her pulse pounding in her ears. Branches shattered like kindling against three solid chests as they carved a path through the greenery. The clack of fangs snapping shut mere inches from her head sent a shiver down her spine.

Elda twisted sharply and veered off her path, almost falling over a clump of weeds when she bolted to the right. The creatures continued on their straight course, too cumbersome to make the severe turn. Frustrated snarls filled the forest when they lost sight of her.

There was a clearing up ahead that Elda made a beeline for, hoping to find somewhere to hide. She burst through the trees and slammed straight into the side of a huge white horse, bouncing off and landing flat on her back as it reared up and let out a shrill whinny.

“Whoa now, steady!”

Elda looked up at the rider and her face fell. “Oh no,” she groaned.

“Oh yes,” Captain Reiner replied, leaning over to smile down at the Princess in the dirt. “You are in a world of trouble.”

“I was already in a world of trouble.”

“Is that before or after you signed yourself up to be demon chow?” the Captain asked with a shake of her head, listening to the creatures shriek.

“Before.” Elda dusted herself off and stood, unhooking the handmade bow and quiver of arrows from her shoulder. It was a miracle neither of them had broken.

“How many?”

“Three.”

“Class?”

“Lesser.” Elda knocked an arrow, aiming at the trees. Some of the foot soldiers accompanying the Captain did the same. “They’re feral and dumb.”

“Not as dumb as you, Your Grace,” she quipped, drawing her sword. “With respect, of course.” Elda scowled.

The beasts burst through the tree line to find themselves peppered with arrows, bodies jerking with each impact. Elda hit the smallest in the centre of its forehead and watched the spindly legs fold beneath it. The others squealed when the archers stepped back and the rest of the soldiers moved in. Captain Reiner hefted her mace and crushed the head of the second beast from horseback, leaving her men to destroy the last one. Its high, keening death knell cut off with a wet gurgle.

“How did you find me?” Elda demanded.

“By accident.” Reiner held out a gauntlet-covered hand. “Get on the damn horse.” The Princess scowled and took it, seating herself on the back of the saddle as the unit made its way back to the city.

Elda glared at the ground with clenched teeth. Her hands were balled into fists as she listened to Captain Reiner recount the incident in the forest with more than a hint of smugness.

“Thank you, Captain,” King Hrothgar said, inclining his head towards the armour-clad soldier. “You’re dismissed.” She crossed her right fist over her chest in a salute, winking at Elda as she left.

Instead of shouting, the bearded King sighed and took off his crown, setting it on the desk and rubbing his eyes. He let the silence settle around them until it was so heavy, Elda could practically feel it sitting on her shoulders. Somehow, it was worse than him getting angry.

“I won’t apologise,” she stated.

“I’m not asking you to.” He gestured at the chair opposite him. “Sit.”

“I’d rather stand.” He gave her a look that brooked no argument, watching as she lowered herself reluctantly onto the seat cushion. He took in the dishevelled braid hanging over her shoulder, the ill-fitting trousers and tunic that were obviously stolen, and the homemade bow at her shoulder. Her cheeks were smudged with dirt and there were leaves caught in her blonde hair.

“You have far too much of me in you, child,” he muttered. “Your mother will have my head if she finds out you were outside again, and today of all days! Why do you refuse to stay where it’s safe?”

Elda scowled at him. “The forest may be dangerous but at least I feel at home there.”

“There are demons in the forest,” he thundered.

“And there’s a murderer in the palace right now!” she snapped. “A demon frightens you for being what it is. A supposedly rational man beats three of his consorts to death, and you expect me to marry him?!”

"ENOUGH!" The King raised his voice at last, his clenched fist slamming down on the tabletop. Elda deflated, hot tears pricking her eyes.

“You have no clue how hard it is to live here,” she ground out.

Hrothgar exhaled heavily. “Sweetheart, I know this isn’t what you want.” He unclenched his fist, laying his palm flat on the wood. “If we weren’t on the brink of war I wouldn’t let Horthan within a thousand miles of you.”

She looked up quickly, bitterness forgotten. “War? Things are that bad?” The King nodded. “How?”

“Horthan knows our army is dwindling. The demons grow in number every day, and we can’t replace the fallen fast enough to keep up. He’ll burn this city, and every one in it, if he doesn’t gain your acceptance today. His ships are already in the waterways.” The dark circles under Hrothgar’s eyes made him look older. Elda wondered when he’d last slept.

“Is there no way to deter him?”

He shook his head. “I need your help, Elda.” He reached across the desk and took her hand, long fingers engulfing hers. “As Eden’s future Queen, I need you to do what you must, to protect the people that depend on us.”

Self-preservation warred with her duty, pinning her between the need to help her father and the desire to run away. She wouldn’t be able to live with condemning the citizens of Eden to death, even if it meant she could escape a life married to a monster.

“Alright,” she whispered, closing her eyes to stop the tears. The weight of her task settled heavily on her back. “I’ll go get ready for the banquet. I’m sure Horthan would be unimpressed with me in my current state.” She expected the King to look relieved, but she only saw pain in his eyes.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he croaked.

“I love you too, father.”

Her composure remained as she left the chancery, holding up until she reached her chambers, and then it shattered into a thousand pieces. She tore off the quiver so hard the strap snapped, launching it across the room in a shower of arrows. The cloak went next, landing in a heap on the floor. She smashed her beloved bow against her bedpost until it snapped in half, tossing the two pieces at the wall and sinking to her knees.

Walking to the banquet hall was like wading through mud, only made harder by the train on her dress. It billowed behind her in soft layers of pale blue fabric. Every inch of her was perfect, from her curled, pinned hair, to the dainty, powder blue shoes on her feet. The tiara was the crowning jewel, a gilded shackle to remind everyone who she was.

The doors swung open, releasing cheerful music entirely at odds with her bleak mood. A sea of faces turned to gawk at her like a prized sow on display at a market. Her legs were trembling by the time she reached the raised dais and took a seat.

“Welcome,” the King called, getting to his feet with a forced smile. “It’s wonderful to see so many familiar faces gathered in my kingdom. Thank you all for joining us in celebrating such a momentous occasion. Today, my daughter will choose the next Prince of Eden!” Elda flinched when the room erupted. Tankards and goblets clanged against the tabletop in accompaniment to the cheers. It felt like they were mocking her. “I’ll keep this short. We’ll start with introductions, then we’ll hear the formal pledges from each suitor. Elda will make her choice, and then we drink!” the King called, eliciting another cheer. “Let’s get things moving quickly. Suitors, you may begin your introductions.”

Elda’s heart tapped frantically against her ribs, keeping pace with the lively tune bouncing off the vaulted ceilings. She knew which suitor would get to her first.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Your Grace,” a deep voice purred. She looked up to find amber eyes watching her. He was handsome, with golden hair, bulging muscles and a healthy tan. His armour was gold and polished to a shine, a rich emerald cloak adorning his shoulders. “I’m Lord Rhydian Horthan of Falkryn.” He held out an expectant hand. “May I have this dance?”

She had no choice but to say yes. At first glance he was charming, taking her fingers gently and flashing a winning smile, but she sensed the poison hidden beneath the thin veneer of a gentleman.

The moment they reached the centre of the room he pulled her closer, one hand gripping hers too tightly, the other resting too close to the base of her breast. He moved like he owned her, exerting too much force as he spun her away and yanked her back to him. The whole time he smiled smugly, not needing to talk because there was nothing to say. Both of them knew he’d already won.

Being a Shifter made him graceful, but he was forceful and obnoxious. He was always too close and his smile had a tilt to it that gave away how quickly it could become a hateful sneer. When the song finally ended Elda practically ran from him, pulling her hand from his grasp before she’d even finished her curtsey. She was waylaid before she could escape, stopped by a tall Fae with opulent robes and striking violet eyes.

“Princess,” he greeted with a bow. “I am Prince Runiel Falmyr of Cenet. Would you do me the honour of a dance?” Once again, she was expected to say yes, so she let him take her hand, ignoring the sick feeling in her stomach as she was swept around the room.

Prince Falmyr was more respectful than Horthan, his hands staying firmly where they were supposed to. His many intricate, dark blue braids swung down his back, the clasps and jewels decorating them winking beautifully in the sunlight streaming through the tall windows. Her feet fell easily into the steps, though she wasn’t sure if he was just a better dancer than the Falkrynian, or if it was because her nerves lessened the longer she spent away from Horthan.

She suffered through dancing with two more suitors before she was finally freed. She seized the opportunity and escaped through a side door, emerging into a mercifully empty corridor. For a few seconds she had peace and quiet, and her racing thoughts began to still. The nausea bubbling up her throat subsided at last.

The peace shattered when someone followed her out into the hall. She froze, expecting her father to chastise her for walking around without a chaperone. When she turned, her heart dropped into her stomach.

It wasn’t her father.