Soul Catcher Page 7

  Aleco was unresponsive to her comment. He opened his storage of dried fruit and handed it to Accacia along with a cup of hot, black tea. “Accacia, if I was going to hurt you, I would have done it already,” he said, still annoyed by the insult. He may have been an asshole to her, but he never gave her any reason to fear him for a sinister motive. He wouldn’t have returned her to Father Giloth if his goal was to hurt her.

  She ate her breakfast in silence, ignoring his last comment. She couldn’t help but feel violated. She knew he had only undressed her to save her life, but she still felt frightened.

  “Fine, be that way,” he barked. Aleco returned the stone to the wooden chest at the foot of his bed and locked it once again, placing the key in his pocket. “I don’t know what happened to you, Accacia, but I can assure you, I am not like whoever it was that made you this way.”

  Accacia sipped her tea, her eyes locked on the dying fire. “Thank you for taking care of me, Aleco,” she said, attempting to change the subject.

  “For the third time,” he added.

  “Yes,” she laughed, “for the third time.”

  Aleco stared at her from the foot of the bed. Accacia felt his gaze on her face. His voice dropped to a whisper and made her skin prickle with unease. “I am not a selfless person, Accacia,” he threatened. “I require payment for my services.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise—she knew where this was going. Her heartbeat raced in alarm, and she felt frightened of what he would demand of her. His words were too similar; even his voice was too familiar. She felt perspiration drench her palms and the fear take over. She was in a secluded cave, alone with a man she hardly knew. Accacia suddenly felt stupid for making such a thoughtless decision. “Oh?” She ran her hand through her hair and tried to slow her beating heart, attempting to remain calm.

  Aleco sat at the edge of the bed directly before her and stared. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest as she dreaded his next words. She wondered if he could hear it beating. “Tell me what I want to know,” he said. “Why were you at the Prisoner’s Circle? I know you already confessed a small part, but I need to know more—and you are going to tell me.”

  Accacia’s body flooded with relief. She was expecting a very different demand and she was elated to be wrong. The tightened hold on her heart loosened and she let herself breathe again. Lowering her hands from her strands of hair, she placed them in her lap. “I would rather not,” she said, as her heart filled with melancholy at the memory. She didn’t want to reminisce about her time with that perverse man and impart the tale to someone else, especially Aleco. She knew he would judge her immoral actions. She sipped her tea and looked away.

  “I don’t care what you want,” he said. “I require it as payment. You should be grateful I am not asking for something more.”

  Accacia said nothing. He couldn’t force her to tell him anything—he had just indicated he would never harm her so the choice was hers. Even if she didn’t confide in him, he wouldn’t beat it out of her. She felt guilty for ever thinking it. Just because Aleco hid his face and was habitually rude didn’t he mean his intentions weren’t honorable. She looked at him. “Why are you so interested?” she asked.

  “Does it matter?”

  “I have one condition.” She sighed. “You are not to speak, comment, or joke about my disturbing experiences—and we are never to address it again.”

  “Fair enough,” he said.

  Accacia explained her relationship with Lord Drake from the day she was captured to the day she escaped. She detailed her perverted intimacies with the duke; how he forced her to complete crude tasks against her will, bound her petite frame against the bed while he raped her, and the intense beatings she received if she shed a single tear in response to the traumatic horror she was subjected to. “He demanded that I love him and when I refused, he shipped me to Morkarh, where I was subjugated to regular rounds of torture and beatings until I had a change of heart. I was there for three months until my mentality broke, and I decided I would rather die in that prison than be forced under him any longer. That’s when I consumed the poison—I didn’t want to live anymore.” Accacia intertwined her fingers and stared at the fire, holding back the tears that stung behind her eyes. “Until you rescued me,” she added.

  Aleco rose from the bed and paced the room, anger leaking through his skin. The malicious acts of the duke disgusted him. His cruelty needed to be put to an end. Aleco hated himself even more. He was responsible for this. Now he understood the meaning of Father Giloth’s previous words. And whatever you do, Aleco, do not reveal your face.

  “Accacia—”

  “Please don’t.” She sniffed.

  Aleco sat on the floor across from her. She flinched at his sudden proximity. He spotted her distress and forced himself to bridle his anger. How could she treat him as if he was like Drake? “Accacia, I’ll never let that bastard near you again,” he said. “I promise.”

  “Why do you care?”

  “I—” Aleco paused. Why did he care so much? Aleco was the one responsible for her pain. If he hadn’t been such a coward, this could have been avoided. She wouldn’t be crying right now. “I—just do.”

  Accacia wiped her tears with her sleeve. She hadn’t looked at Aleco once, and wanted to change the subject. Accacia had answered his question like he demanded, and now she wanted to think of it no longer. She hated feeling the pain. Even though Accacia had just confessed her heartbreaking experience, she somehow found her bewitching smile and finally met his gaze. “So, you’re not an asshole?”

  “For now.” Aleco laughed. Perhaps, this is why he cared for her. Despite her gruesome history, she was strong enough to continue forward, always with an infectious laugh and a dazzling smile. It was unfortunate Aleco couldn’t adopt her attitude—but a stream can’t simply switch its course by will alone.

  Accacia drank her tea, which was warm and delicious, and Aleco returned to his chest and dug through the items until he retrieved a metallic, glossy stone. “I have something for you.” Aleco offered her the shiny gem.

  She repeated the same tempered words he had snarled to her when they approached the border of Father Giloth’s lands days ago. “I don’t want it.”

  “Too bad,” he completed the dialogue with a smile in his voice.

  “What is it?” she asked as she rubbed her smooth skin over the marble flesh of the stone, examining its dimensions.

  “A Soul Catcher,” he said.

  “I’ve never heard of such an object.”

  “Because they are extremely rare,” Aleco explained. “This gem allows you to store memories. It acts as a visual journal. You can store images and recollections within the stone, to be retrieved whenever you want to relive the moment.”

  Accacia gazed at the stone again, but this time in awe.

  Aleco continued. “They grant you the ability to not only remember an event that was important to you, but to relive it, experience it again. You can see someone you’ve lost, remember something you’ve forgotten, feel something you haven’t felt in many years.”

  Accacia looked at him. “This is amazing, Aleco,” she whispered as she appraised the priceless stone. “But I cannot accept it.” She returned the gem.

  Aleco flicked her hand away. “Keep it,” he said. “I already have one.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” he said. “It’s a lot more convenient than carrying around a journal,” he teased.

  She gripped it tightly within her palm, cherishing the invaluable jewel. The stone was her vehicle into blissful memories, allotted time and space where she could revisit pleasant flashbacks, and have a reason to smile. “Yes, it is.” She grinned.

  Accacia massaged the cold stone with her fingertips, her eyes locked on her own movements. She wondered what Aleco deemed worthy enough to store within his own gem—if he’d experienced anything worth remembering.

  Aleco tossed her an ordinary steel blade which she caught with both hands.
She looked confused so he answered her unspoken question. “I am going to teach you the blade.”

  “Why?”

  “A request from Father Giloth,” Aleco replied, his voice full of annoyance. “I thought you wanted to learn?”

  “I do.”

  She stared at the sword. She gripped the handle incorrectly and it fell to the sand at her feet. Aleco sighed to himself as he watched her. Accacia grabbed it again but it slipped from her grasp like a wet fish. He knew this was going to be difficult. “It’s just a sword,” he said. “Pick it up.”

  Accacia retrieved the sword and held it in her grasp. She looked at the blade as if it was alive, about to fly from her hands by its own will.

  The storm had passed, allowing the sun to shine in the cloudless sky and bake the sand under their feet. Aleco and Accacia stood on the beach near the edge of the shore, facing each other and preparing to spar.

  Accacia let her embarrassment leave her body as she looked at the sky and saw the beaming sun. She enjoyed the kiss of the sunstar on her flawless skin, and she adorned herself in a light shirt and tight leggings, no longer fearful of attracting unwanted male attention. Aleco was the only male, with the exception of Father Giloth, which she felt this comfortable with—she trusted him. It was obvious he harbored no attraction to her.

  Aleco wore his typical attire—a cloak and hood that hid his entire visage. Accacia wished he felt more comfortable around her. She knew wearing such heavy clothing had to be unbearable, especially in the heat of the scorching sun. A slight breeze tasseled the strands of her hair and she was thankful for the respite.

  He could sense the change in their relationship since the evening before. Accacia’s walls had finally fallen—for the most part. She felt at ease around him, no longer threatened or fearful of his unknown intent. Not only was she friendly and nice when he didn’t deserve her kindness, but she felt innately safe around him. She truly believed that he wouldn’t harm her in any way.

  “Grip the handle with both hands at all times,” he instructed. “With a long sword such as this, it is necessary. You aren’t strong enough to carry the weight with one arm.” He gripped his own blade, which was midnight black with sparkling black gems in the handle. It was the most unusual sword Accacia had ever seen.

  Aleco taught her various stances, defense maneuvers, and offensive attacks. She was a quick learner. He was surprised how effortless it was for her to repeat the gestures and with such ease. Either he was a skilled instructor, or she was a natural. He couldn’t tell which.

  Aleco swung his sword and they sparred. He decreased his deadly swordsmanship, allowing her to utilize the novel skills she attained. He did not want to discourage her basic attempt by revealing his deadly adroitness. She could practice for years, but no one would ever match Aleco’s ability with a sword.

  They sparred on the beach until Accacia was so exhausted she could barely lift her sword. Her chest and neck were dripping with sweat, and she was parched and famished from their exercise. After a few hours, she dropped her sword to the ground, unable to go on. Aleco ended the lesson and the pair turned in for the evening. The sun had set behind the mountains, and the chill of the ocean crawled upon the beach, causing Accacia to shiver from the cold. A fog drifted to the shore and blocked the view of the sea from the cave’s entrance. The sound of the approaching tide was the only proof it was still out there.

  They sat in front of the fire and consumed their dinner. Aleco ate the fresh cod he caught that afternoon, and Accacia nibbled on the bread she infused with raisins and cherries.

  “How did you find this place?” Accacia asked.

  “Lucky chance.”

  “It’s lovely,” she said. “You should build a house on the beach. You could gaze at the ocean from your window and watch the waves crash against the shore—it would be beautiful.”

  “I’ll stick to the cave,” Aleco said sarcastically.

  “Fine. I’ll live in the house and you can remain in this crowded, bat infested enclosure,” she said with disdain. She looked at the corners of the room, waiting for a bat to fly across the cave.

  Aleco stopped eating. “First of all, have you seen a single bat while you’ve been here?” he asked. “And secondly, what makes you think you are going to live in my grotto?”

  “Well, I have nowhere else to go,” she admitted with flushed cheeks. “I’ve been with Father Giloth for as long as I can remember, and I can never return there. So, I need to find a place elsewhere.”

  “So you’ve conveniently picked mine?”

  “No,” Accacia said. “I’ve picked the beach. We would be neighbors, really.”

  “I don’t think so,” he said. He chewed the white fillets of the roasted fish. “I picked this deserted beach so I could be rid of people.”

  “Well, I’m not people—I’m your friend.”

  “I have no friends.”

  “Now you do.” She smiled.

  Aleco put his plate aside and looked at her face. He was equally pleased and annoyed by her fetching smile. “I should have just let you die when I had the chance,” he said. Accacia could hear the humor in his voice.

  “We all make mistakes,” she teased. She moved to an armchair by the fire and grabbed a book from a shelf, The Lost People of Asquith, and began to read by the light of the flames. The book detailed an ancient people to the west of the Continent. They were embodied with mysterious ancient powers. Supposedly, they worshiped the water element, claiming all life originated from its source. The Asquith people were also remembered for their manufacture of deadly weapons, and their open appreciation for nature and respect for its creatures. As a united race, they refrained from eating meat, even when on the verge of starvation, stating it was a crime worse than murder. “Have you read this?” she asked Aleco.

  “Many times.”

  “What happened to them?”

  “No one really knows. Somehow, their island sank beneath the ocean. The sea covered the entire surface of their land. It’s a bit of a mystery,” he said. “The entire race is believed to have gone extinct due to the tragedy.”

  Accacia’s heart squeezed in pain. She felt an immense depression at the revelation, even though it was for a civilization she didn’t know existed until that moment. Accacia closed the book. “Aleco?” she asked.

  “Hmm?” he said. His gaze was fixed on the dancing flames of the hearth, his thoughts somewhere else. He waited for her to ask her question, knowing it had something to do with the contents of the book. He’d read the novel so many times, he practically had every word memorized. There wasn’t a lot to do in the cave and sometimes he got bored. Accacia hesitated before she spoke; he wondered what was taking her so long. “Out with it.”

  “Why do you always hide your face?”

  The sound of the crackling flames echoed in the dim hollow as the silence became deafening. Aleco’s shoulders stiffened at the unwanted provocation, and he clenched both of his fists. He hadn’t expected her to ask that question. Accacia saw the lean tendons of each of his hands swell from his dry and weathered skin. She immediately regretted her curiosity. “That’s none of your concern.” The atmosphere in the room changed. The calm and peaceful evening ignited into one of fierce tension.

  “I told you my darkest secret,” she said. “Why can’t you tell me yours?”

  “I don’t have to tell you anything.”

  “I promise I won’t say a word,” she whispered.

  “Take my advice; you don’t want to see it.”

  “I highly doubt that, Aleco.”

  “Well, I don’t,” he said.

  Accacia looked directly into his hood, a look of hurt on her face. “How can you not trust me?”

  “It’s not that,” he sighed, “but, no, I don’t trust you—I trust no one.”

  Accacia was silent as she stared at him. Aleco returned his gaze to the fire, avoiding the look on her face. She was wounded that he still didn’t feel comfortable confiding in her. She had
revealed her dark past to him, and he accepted it with no comment. She didn’t understand why he wouldn’t reciprocate. They had been traveling together for weeks and she felt a connection with him; surely he felt it too. Accacia knew he needed a friend, an ally to help carry the burden of his pain. She didn’t understand what she had done to be unworthy of his confidence. The sting of hurt and betrayal flooded her body. She felt stupid for telling him something so personal about herself. Finally, she said what she felt. “You are an asshole.” Accacia left the warmth of the fire and exited the den, choosing to freeze in the coldness of the night rather than sit alongside him by the comfortable flames of the hearth.

  Aleutian Keep, Letumian Province

  11

  Victor entered the study with trepidation. The duke was never pleased with the news he brought him, and he was certain this instance would be no different than any other.

  The duke sat at his walnut colored desk, his hand gripping a glass of Aleutian wine and his eyes glued to the flames within the black wooden hearth. Drake rarely completed work in this room; he just depleted the liquor storage.

  Victor noticed the duke had been particularly displeased these past few weeks, ever since the news that his beloved courtesan, Accacia, escaped her imprisonment in the Prisoner’s Circle in Morkarh. Drake’s moods had always been volatile, changing randomly like the weather, and his unexpected tantrums could never be predicted, but lately it was even worse. Victor wasn’t surprised that Accacia had risked her life to escape his clutches. He was fond of the girl. She was always genuinely nice to him when the duke wasn’t around and pitied her because of her predicament.

  The duke noticed Victor approach his desk, but he finished his glass of wine before speaking.

  “What say you?” he asked. “Has she been found?”

  “No, m’lord,” he said.

  Drake refilled his glass of wine. “Then why are you here?”