Page 61 of Soul of Thorns
I don’t have the energy to continue to push him away. Not now. Not until I find Rev.
“Soul stones,” the wraith says quietly. “All that’s left of every soul that has ended in this terrible place.”
I purse my lips. “They’re beautiful. Are they... dangerous?”
“No. Unlike every other aspect of this terrible place, those are exactly what they appear. Useless but lovely. A reminder of what was lost and can never be reclaimed.”
My heart aches, heavy with loss. I don’t even know why. I don’t know these souls, but there is a weight here, a sense of loss, hanging over everything.
“This was the original resting place for all magical souls that do not pass on. It predates the Schorchedlands by millennia.”
Was there a time the Schorchedlands didn’t exist? Technically, I know that must be true—I’ve spoken to the creators of the walls, heard about the animals trapped inside at the time of the curse—but the thought that an afterlife existed before the Schorchedlands isn’t something I’d ever considered.
I squat down, examining the pebbles closer. Broken. Lost. But no longer afraid. Why am I so enamored by the little stones? Perhaps it’s because their fate will soon be mine.
Time is ticking away. I should be searching for my lost mate... because even if he’s moved on without me, he may still need my help. But my numb heart pounds slowly, my mind frozen on this one small aspect.
Souls of lost fae beneath my feet.
Something about this place draws me in. I want to lie beside the stones and join them in their final slumber. I finally risk a gentle touch of the stones piled on the bank of the smooth lake. They don’t attack me. They don’t hurt. They act as any other pebble. Smooth and pretty but lifeless.
Down the bank, at least fifteen feet away, a gentle white light flickers off of a stone. I narrow my eyes, moving toward the sight before I even decide to move. “What’s that?”
The wraith turns and drifts along with me. “What is what, child?”
It’s tiny, the little white gem hidden among the smooth black stones. I bend down and examine it before I dare touch it. I don’t know why this little stone has caught my attention so deeply. Around me, the souls of millions of fae scatter across the bank. But this one is so very different.
It looks like a diamond almost, but it flickers light all around. It reminds me of Rev. Of the Luminescent Court and that forest of clear-leaved trees bouncing light everywhere.
I drop to my butt beside the rare stone and look out over the water. Deceivingly simple, this part of the Schorchedlands. Wetlands like any other—besides the general darkness and eternally leafless trees. I know without a doubt that there will be more to it.
I push the pain from my mind, and on a whim, I grip the white gem between my fingers. I don’t want to leave it here for some reason.
The wraith’s attention shifts to my fingers as I stand. “What is that?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. It could be worthless for all I know, but it’s so out of place here in the Schorchedlands, even among the lovely soul stones.
He drifts closer, his eyes widening in horror. “Drop that, now!” he practically yells.
And yet, I don’t. I won’t. “Why?”
“Because it is not yours. It doesn’t belong to you,” he snarls.
Now, that has my attention. My mind sharpens. “What is it? You know where it came from?”
There is a gentle warmth radiating from the tiny stone, and it flickers light onto my palm.
“Yes,” he hisses. “You must leave it behind.”
I tilt my head, examining him. He’s angry, not afraid. Does the stone mean something to him? “Tell me or I’m going to bring it along.”
“It’s...” He pauses. “It’s from the Night Terror. It will tell her where you are at all times.” He winces.
I raise my eyebrows at his obvious lie. “You are good at withholding information, wraith. But not creating falsehoods on a whim.” I smirk and slip the stone into my pocket.
He snarls but says nothing more. Anger flickers in his eyes, but I only smile, happy to have something to use against him for the first time in our relationship. If he wants to tell me the truth about the jewel, then perhaps I’ll reconsider. Until then, it’s coming with me.
I walk back to the path, look out over the flat grey stones, and step out onto the first.
