Page 46 of Soul of Thorns
I wince, and Caelynn sits up, a rusted iron knife in her grip. “What the hell are you doing here?” she hisses. “Haven’t I made it clear you are not welcome with us?”
A being of dark smoke floats just feet above us. Caelynn’s wraith.
“Telling you how foolish you are being, obviously.”
“Last I heard, you didn’t want to help us,” I whisper. Either of us. It isn’t just me he’s working against now. Below, the tempo of the strange display hasn’t changed. The wraith gathering hasn’t seemed to have noticed our interaction.
“I have no desire to help you pass through the wall, no. But that is because I wish to keep your mate alive. Unlike you.”
“I want to keep her alive too.” My jaw clenches.
“I’ll believe that when I see it. This is a very one-sided mate-ship, I will say.”
My lip curls to expose my teeth, but Caelynn responds before I get the chance.
“It’s not a mate-ship. No one has accepted or acted on anything. We are allies, doing what is best for each other.”
My stomach twists, rejection bitter on my tongue.
The wraith chuckles, low and slow. “Neither of you believe that, do you?” He sighs dramatically and then spins around.
“What is this thing?” Caelynn asks quickly as if trying to change the subject or just get his attention before he leaves again. The wraith has made it very clear he’s not my ally, but he does seem to want what’s best for Caelynn. Perhaps in that way, we can be aligned—that is, when he’s not trying to kill me. Half an ally is better than none, and he very likely has the information we require.
Perhaps it’s time to turn the games on him so we can get what we need.
“A manticore.” He waves his hand dismissively.
“It’s not the Night Terror?” I ask.
The wraith pauses, facing me with eyes wide, and then blurts out in a hysterical laugh. “You think that is the Night Terror? Oh, dear boy, are you in for a surprise.”
“I know it’s not her. But what is it doing?” Caelynn asks.
My fingers curl on her waist gripping her tightly.
“It’s a messenger, of course.”
“A messenger?” I repeat.
“How else do you think she communicates with the wraiths on the outskirts?” The wraith’s voice slurs and rumbles like the other moans wafting through the air. Is he trying to blend in? “Most wraiths refuse to pass the wall of flames, and she cannot. Not without sacrificing much of her power. So, her beasty does the crossing to pass along her orders and give gifts to those who obey.”
“That thing isn’t too evil to pass the flames?” Caelynn asks.
The wraith rolls his eyes. “That thing has no soul. And so, it cannot be affected.”
I narrow my eyes. No soul. Do those animals have souls? Is that why the rabbits can hop through without so much as blinking?
“You said he gives gifts. What kind of gifts do wraiths desire?” Caelynn asks.
“The Night Terror can give the wraiths what many—including you, if I remember correctly— have desired. To die content, clinging to the things they loved most. It’s an illusion much like the Forest of Desires, but a strong one, and without the pesky issue of being eaten and tortured by trees. They will leave this world without pain. She also offers influence on the human world occasionally.”
“They can influence the human world?” I mutter.
“Indeed. The Night Bringer is quite adept at that. Being ancient mated-beings, they can communicate. He knows all about what’s happening with you, deary. You can be sure about that. And she has followed your journey closely all these years.”
Caelynn tenses.
I blink slowly. I don’t even want to know more. “So, what is it doing now?” I nod to the manticore.
