Soul Goblet Read online

  Soul Goblet

  Legends of the Fallen Book 7

  J.A. Culican

  H.M. Gooden

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  About the Author

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Soul Goblet © copyright 2019 J.A. Culican

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without the express written consent from the author, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages embodied in critical articles or in a review. Trademark names appear throughout this book. Rather than trademark name, names are used in an editorial fashion, with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.

  The information in this book is distributed on an “as is” basis, without warranty. Although every precaution has been taken in preparation of this work, neither the author nor the publisher shall have any liability to any person or entity with respect to any loss or damage caused or alleged to be caused directly or indirectly by the information contained in this book.

  The characters, locations, and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarities or resemblance to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Paperback ISBN: 978-1-081211-55-4

  Hardback ISBN: 978-1-949621-13-6

  Chapter 1

  "This is not well written," I grumbled as I glared at the ancient book in front of me, before letting out a groan of frustration.

  Pushing back from the table, I stared at the expanse in front of me. The heavy oak surface was large enough to accommodate twenty scholars and able to support a great deal of weight. That was a good thing. During my search for answers I’d managed to occupy every square inch of the golden surface with a mountain of books.

  Biting my lip, I absently tapped my fingers on my green dress. Blotches of ink dotted the thick silk. My mother would be upset if she saw it.

  "None of these books tell me anything." I mumbled under my breath.

  Normally, I enjoyed doing research for its own sake, but this was different. I considered my options carefully. Maybe there was another book in the stacks I hadn't yet discovered.

  Ever since the news had arrived, on the panting gasps of an exhausted emissary to the town of Cliffside where I lived, that the prison holding Dag’draath had broken, I’d been frantically searching for any information I could find about the history of the Dark War.

  While I was tucked away from the action for now, I knew we weren’t completely sheltered. Dag'draath was being released from his prison. The greatest enemy our world had ever seen, and the only hero who could protect us, Onen Suun, was long gone. It was only a matter of time until the fight came to us.

  There had been a brief mention of an artifact and a ritual which had been used to trap Dag’draath. The only problem was the details about what exactly the artifact and the ritual were happened to be incredibly murky.

  Why were all the old scribes so vague? Was it deliberate? I assumed it was to cause frustration in the researcher, or to keep the artifact from falling into the wrong hands. I stood up from the chair and stomped to the shelves, passing a map of the Low Forest on my way.

  I’d never traveled beyond the Low Forest. I knew it was silly, but I felt as though I’d already explored the world through my books. If I’d had the chance, I would have been happy to spend every waking moment in my library. But this news had shaken me out of my books and into a state of near panic.

  I needed to find more volumes with information about the Dark War. I returned to the table with two more texts, stumbling into the chair as an idea hit me like a bolt of lightning. My eyes went wide and my heart picked up its pace.

  It was written in code!

  I stood, almost knocking over the heavy wooden chair in my excitement. But when I thumbed through the pages of the books spread out in front of me, I was disappointed again.

  None of the other books seemed to contain what I was searching for. Of the twenty or so texts on the table in front of me, only two had been useful, and only when read together.

  Pushing the other books out of the way, I lined both volumes up side-by-side, following the words with my finger, as if they would somehow impart more wisdom.

  They were written in the same awful handwriting. I wasn’t the best at graphology, but when I examined the script, it appeared the ink, as well as the swirling loops and hurried pace it seemed to have been written in, were identical.

  "Aha!"

  The moment I put the paragraphs together, my idea was supported and bloomed. One spoke of an artifact used in a ritual but didn’t call the ritual by name. It mentioned the qualities of the artifact, but not enough for me to identify what it was.

  The second text, however, spoke of a ritual named the Beheratzi Dokuzgen. It only briefly mentioned the artifact used, instead focusing on what had been required to activate it.

  "Interesting." I absently scratched the back of my neck.

  Sel abruptly interrupted my moment of clarity by placing another book on the table. Normally, his silence and stealthy movements tended to make me jump, but in this case, I was too distracted to be startled.

  "Sel, you're just who I need." I pointed at the two black books on the table. "I think there are a few more books matching these at the top of one of the back shelves." I flipped one of them closed, tucking my finger in to hold the page as I showed him the spine.

  I hadn't seen it at first, but the books I'd been drawn to were both bound with a thick, black, leather-like material. The color absorbed the light and was different than any binding I’d seen before. Instantly, I decided it was an omen. A black binding that absorbed light, covering volumes with information about the Dark War. It was fitting and made me think I was on the right track at last.

  He bowed, not as deeply as he would have if he’d been ordered to do something by anyone else, then left in the direction I’d pointed without a word.

  We had a good relationship. Even though he was technically a slave.

  Humans in Cliffside were often mistreated by the elves, but I didn't understand why things had to be this way. I'd been taught since childhood humans were a lesser species, not as smart, unattractive, and certainly not as good at fighting. I didn't know many humans, but the ones I'd met had never struck me as lesser in any way, merely different.

  While I waited for Sel to get the books I couldn’t reach, I walked over to the large arched windows that let light into the library. I could see my brother in the courtyard, preparing with the other elves for battle. They’d been working longer and harder since the emissary had arrived, and I’d hardly seen him in weeks unless it was through a window.

  I was terrified and wistful watching them, wondering if I’d been allowed to train if maybe my life would be more exciting. As it was, I wasn’t supposed to be spending my time in the library, but my mother viewed it as the least objectionable activity I could get up to while remaining marriageable, which seemed to be
her sole desire these days.

  My brother’s friend paused and looked up. I ducked away from the window, hoping he hadn’t seen me. He was nice, but I didn’t find him interesting. I didn’t want to encourage him or my parents.

  The rustle of movement drew my attention and I was surprised to see my younger sister enter the library. She was dressed as elegantly as usual, but her movements were jerky and her face was pale. When she saw me beside the window, she narrowed her eyes and headed straight for me.

  “What have you found? Have you heard if we are going to war?”

  I held my hands up, unable to back up any further from where I’d placed myself against the wall. I considered her words carefully. “I haven’t found anything yet. And I have no idea what Father has planned, but based on the fires in the distance, my guess is we’ll be at war soon.”

  Her face crumpled and I sighed, looking back out the window toward the now ever-present fires on the horizon. Ur’gels were everywhere, or so I had heard from the younger elves in the military. They spoke in excited whispers, but the elders were tight-lipped.

  “You’ll tell me if you find anything, won’t you?”

  The hope in her voice made me wonder what the world was coming to. Usually my sisters viewed my “hobby” with a patronizing air. To see her looking at me with such pleading was almost more frightening than the smoke in the air.

  I gave her a brisk smile. “Of course. Now, I have to get back to my books if you want me to do that.”

  “Thanks, Rhiniya. Oh—don’t be long. Remember, you still need to change.”

  I managed to hold back a groan and waved as she swept off in a cloud of anxiety and roses.

  I sat back down on the chair, the hard wood making me squirm. At least my dress was more comfortable than what my sister had been wearing. When I remembered the condition of my dress I grimaced, knowing my mother would be unhappy.

  I shivered slightly, beginning to feel the chill in the library. I’d been here all day, and realized it had been many hours since I'd eaten. But when Sel returned carrying not just two, but three large books with the same black leather spine, all thoughts of hunger and discomfort vanished.

  I reached out my hands, standing to accept them. He passed one over, carefully placing the other two in an empty space beside the ones I’d been comparing. Once again, he'd perfectly anticipated my needs.

  “Thanks. Have I ever told you how brilliant you are?" He truly was the best research assistant I could have hoped for.

  He winked. "No, you never have, Rhin." We shared a silent moment before he turned on his heel with a quick nod, returning to his ready position by the door.

  An elder entered and he bowed deeply. I caught the way he was ignored, as if he was a piece of furniture. My stomach twisted, as it did every time I saw the casual cruelty humans received from my people every day. He was my friend, but there was nothing I could do.

  He caught my eye and shook his head. I knew he didn’t want me to say anything, so I turned back to the books, feeling guilty. He did so much for me and I let him. I knew how privileged I was, but suddenly I wanted him to understand.

  I waved him over and he approached, eyebrows knitted together.

  “My lady?”

  I pressed my lips together. “I want you to know that you’re the reason why I want to know everything.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”

  I smiled at the confusion on his face. “When you were given to me at fifteen, I was on my way to being as obnoxious as the other fair elves.”

  Sel began to object, but I shushed him. “No. It’s true. When I got you for my birthday, it was the first time I realized how different life was for humans. I didn’t know that you had no choice in serving, or that you’d been born into a position.”

  He shrugged. “It’s not that bad working for you.”

  I shook my head. “Still. I wanted to find out what led to such gross inequality. No one should be able to own anyone else. It’s wrong. As wrong as the Dark War and what Dag’draath wants to do with the world.”

  Suddenly embarrassed by my outburst in the face of his quiet consternation, I turned to the textbooks that had so efficiently been placed before me, and he returned to the door.

  The new books were large, and must have weighed at least twenty pounds each. They shared the same dark spines and when I trailed my fingers along the back of one, another shiver coursed down my back. This time, it wasn't from the chilly library air.

  “Excuse me, Lady Rhiniya."

  I looked up, my brow furrowed in irritation. I’d just started reading, but stifled my disappointment when I recognized the slight figure. Dara, my shy chambermaid, stood beside me, with her head bent low as she waited.

  "What is it, Dara?" I smiled, biting back my frustration at the interruption. She was already too timid, regardless of my many attempts to reassure her I wouldn't have her imprisoned or executed for poor service, so there was no way I would snap at her. Apparently, her last mistress had been … well, cruel was the only word that came to mind. Most of the humans in Cliffside were relatively well treated even though they were second-class citizens, because good help was hard to come by.

  She bobbed her head, keeping her eyes downcast as she smoothed the front of her dress. "Your lady mother requests your presence upstairs. It is time to change for the festival. Remember, your presence is required."

  I dipped my head slightly, forcing false cheer into my voice. "Thank you for reminding me, Dara. I guess I should get going, so my mother doesn't become upset. After all, appearances are important!"

  I wasn't sure how my mother had obtained Dara's services, but I suspected she'd found her being mistreated and had negotiated her transfer to me. My mother had firm ideas about what a lady did and did not do, and I never doubted the kindness within her heart. That was why, even though I’d been raised with the usual biases, I was able to understand they weren't justified.

  Dara bobbed her head again, letting the barest of smiles out before standing to the side with her head down as she waited for me to pass so she could follow.

  I stood up, feeling stiffer than I should. It was good for me to take a break before I lost myself completely in the books. Sel remained beside the door, staring placidly ahead until I’d passed him. I caught his eye and gave him a meaningful look. He smiled in response and I readied myself to face a battle of another sort.

  Chapter 2

  The hallways stretched in a series of elegant loops and twists as we walked back to my chamber from the library. By the time I ascended the stairs to my wing, my body had received plenty of exercise.

  I loved our home for its history and beauty. Some might consider it a castle, but I thought of it more like a family estate. It had wide, arching hallways that were ornately decorated with tapestries on every wall unadorned by portraits or paintings. Significant events in either my family's personal history, or elven history in general were prominently displayed at every turn. My mother had picked the current locations for most of the decor, but most of the art was centuries old. A few even dated back to the time before the Dark War, before either of my parents had been born.

  An idea struck me as I passed the stern-faced ancestor elves who seemed to glare down from their vantage points, judging me as my steps echoed loudly on the marble floors. Maybe one of the older paintings or tapestries contained answers to solving the riddle of what had happened. Perhaps some of what was so coyly hinted at in the volumes I’d found would be depicted in art, as well as text.

  All thoughts of the riddle in the library vanished when we arrived at my room. Dara rushed around muttering under her breath while I sat meekly on the dressing stool. I’d caught her disappointed look at the condition of my hair, but as she hadn't commented, neither did I.

  I'm sure she was used to the fact I was a mess almost every time she had to prepare me for dinner, but she'd never once complained her time was wasted on me—at least, verbally. I allowed her to tug and prim
p my hair and skin without complaint and gradually she seemed less hurried.

  The dress my mother had picked for the festival tonight was objectively quite gorgeous. It was the height of fashion. The ice-blue color would highlight my eyes and hair, while the cut would flatter my slender form perfectly.

  I was sure my mother didn’t use magic to make the dresses, but she may as well have, given how each new addition to my wardrobe always fit me without requiring a visit to the seamstress, for which I was eternally grateful. If I must dress in a style as elegant as my mother deemed necessary, at least she wasn’t forcing me to spend the time I could be reading to maintain the look.

  Which, of course, was the reason I’d accepted a lady’s maid in the first place. I was hopeless at doing my own hair, content to leave it down or throw it back in a quick tie, both styles which my mother deemed unacceptable for a high-ranking female. Even the warriors kept their hair tied back in tight plaits or knots, styles which eluded my hands entirely.

  Basically, I had no skill with hair. At least my behavior was acceptable, due to a nanny I'd had as a child who’d thoroughly drilled manners into me prior to the time I’d discovered my love of accumulating knowledge. It was a good thing, otherwise I'm sure I'd have received even more disdainful looks from my family and peers than I already did. Not that I cared, much.

  Dara fluttered around, gently tugging, primping, and styling my hair into a style that managed to gather all of my hair into a swirl that defied reason and remained off my face and neck, except for a few tendrils trailing down the front of my dress. After my hair was finished, she readied my face. Nothing too obvious, of course—my mother would be horrified if I wore anything but the most ethereal makeup.