Branson, T. L. [Soul Stones 02] Soul Shade by T. L. Branson

Author:T. L. Branson
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2018-10-10T18:30:00+00:00

25

There, in the city’s center, lay the bodies of the people of Celesti. The pyre was at least a hundred feet wide and twenty-five feet tall at its highest point. Still alight from top to bottom, there wasn’t much left but blackened shells—hair and clothing had been burned away, their features unrecognizable.

Robert raced forward, but Ocken grabbed his waist and pulled him back.

“There’s nothing you can do,” Ocken said. “They’re gone.”

Robert heaved and shuddered under Ocken’s grasp, fighting back tears or anger or both, Ocken didn’t know.

“I’m going to kill them,” Robert said, seething. “I’m going to find who did this and then burn them alive.”

“Easy,” Ocken said. “Don’t let emotion cloud your judgment. If you act rashly all you’re going to do is get yourself killed, and that won’t help anybody.”

“You don’t understand, you—”

“You’re right, I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now,” Ocken said. “I’ve never witnessed everyone I’ve ever known slaughtered and burned. But I know about loss, and I know that people do dumb things when they’re in pain. Sometimes absolutely wicked and terrible things.”

Robert couldn’t possibly know the weight of that statement. All of this—Celesti being destroyed, the elves being freed, everything—was because Alexander Drygo hadn’t been able to control his pain. He’d lashed out, he’d pushed everyone under his thumb, and he had been killed for it. And with his death, the all of this had followed.

All because one man responded the wrong way.

The hard part was that Robert was not the only person who had lost someone. With a pile that large, it was hard for Ocken to imagine that Khate was not among them. He feared the curiosity, the nagging question of whether she had died or not, would be far worse than the pain of her actual death.

Short of tearing apart the entire pyre, there was nothing Ocken could do about it. And even then, it would be nigh impossible to determine identities. No, both Ocken and Robert would have to live with this, there was no other choice.

“I know it looks bleak,” Ocken said. “But there might still be survivors, remember? You can’t give up hope. Not yet. Do you understand me?”

Robert took a deep breath and nodded his head.

Releasing him, Ocken watched to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid. Seeing how the same blood ran in both Will’s and Robert’s veins, Ocken knew it was only a matter of time before he did.

The absurdity of that statement registered and Ocken stifled a fit of laughter.

“What?” Robert asked.

“Nothing,” Ocken said.

Will and Robert technically didn’t share blood anymore. It brought a whole new light to the phrase. Similarity had little to do with actual blood and more to do with relationship. Yes, most of the time that referred to one’s biological family, but more often than not it ran deeper than that.

Ocken couldn’t help but think of Riley. If ever he called someone “friend,” it would have been her, but in many ways she was more. Though Ocken had been only twelve years her senior at best, she’d been like a daughter to him.

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