Shadow Soul (Narun Book 1) Read online

  “I’m missing the film,” I muttered and walked off, surprised he let me pass.

  “I guess you didn’t find it so hard to move on after all.”

  My hand seized up on the door handle to the theatre, and I exhaled from the blow. There was remorse in Leo’s voice even as he said it, but he didn’t try to take it back.

  Biting my lip, I yanked at the door and hid into the darkness.

  Leo was an idiot, yet I was the one left feeling rotten.

  Chapter 15

  I hopped into Jill’s car, tossing a bottle of water and a punnet of grapes on the back seat. Jill’s sand-coloured hair was tied in a ponytail with strands failing to reach the band, framing her face.

  “I thought you knew where this place was.” I pointed at the satellite navigation as she pulled onto the road.

  “I do. I just don’t know how to get there.”

  The navigation estimated that the time to travel to our destination—a reservoir surrounded by moors—would be thirty-eight minutes. When I’d rang Jill last night to give the obligatory explanation for mine and Sebastian’s ‘date’, we’d decided to go out hiking the next day.

  Jill reached for the radio and turned it down. “How did Narun come to be? Or has it always…been? You know, what’s its history?”

  I laughed lightly, taken aback by the nature of the questions. I had a hunch cornering me had been Jill’s plan for the trip all along.

  “You sure don’t waste any time.” I placed an elbow on the window and sighed. I’d better oblige.

  “It’s always been, but it hasn’t always been known about,” I started. “Our people first settled the lands a little over two thousand years ago. It was discovered by a people led by a man called Aviel, who’d been travelling, searching for a place to build a community based on their, our, values.” I took a shallow breath.

  “So, the people settled down and increased in number, but soon found out there were some amongst them who chose different lifestyles, ones against our beliefs. These people—the Gorahites—attempted to kill Aviel but failed and were forced to leave Narun with their families. They then settled down on the other side of the river dividing the land, and built their own nation called Gorah.”

  I paused for a quick glance at Jill and continued when she nodded along, “But the leader of the people, who became their King, harboured a grudge against Aviel and since that day the Gorahites’ purpose has been to destroy Narun, our King, people, and to claim the land. So, ever since then our nations have been at war, sometimes active, sometimes passive.” I played with a strand of hair, a little nostalgic. “Most of my lifetime has been peaceful,” I added.

  Jill lowered her hands to the bottom of the steering wheel. “Wow. That’s…that’s…something.” She eyed the road ahead of us pensively. “This war though, how come the hatred didn’t die with the first King?”

  I let the question marinate for a moment. “Each generation shapes the next; what parents imprint on their kids determines how they see the world. The Gorahites are basically brought up to hate us.”

  “And you’re brought up to fight them?”

  “To defend our home, yes. As you know, some of our people have been given natural tendencies, or gifts, to fight—and to fight well.”

  Jill was quiet for a minute and I wondered if it was because she was concentrating on joining the motorway, or if it was something I said.

  “Does a person have to be born in Narun to live there?”

  “Um, in theory, no.” I straightened against the seat. “We have to be careful who we take in. Spies and other infiltrators from Gorah have always tried to force their way in. Hence people only join us if brought in by someone—a native who can vouch for them. Although, it’s quite rare. We’re not really meant to travel to your world.” No one had any reason to. Unless they fled. Like me. “Of course, there is that little thing of Narun being a hidden nation.”

  “Yeah, how come no one’s ever seen or heard of Narun?”

  “It’s not that simple. You need to understand Narun isn’t like another country; it’s almost like another dimension, another way of life. Think of it as—”

  “The Matrix?” Jill perked up.

  “Uh, little more reality, less film. It’s like if the world was a square cardboard box, Narun would be a round, glass ball inside it. In it, but not made of it.” I crinkled my nose, not sure if I hit the nail or the thumb with the metaphor.

  “Hmm.” I guessed she wasn’t fully sold. “So, why is it kept hidden?”

  “To protect our way of life. If our location was known, people would come in and ruin the lands, bring cars, and with it, pollution, and most importantly the world’s—as you know it—way of life. Our beliefs would get diluted into other cultures, and those of us with special gifts would probably be examined or stuck in a circus. Or an army. Like I said, people do join us from your world but only once they share our beliefs. Otherwise, well, if you mix ice with water, eventually they’ll become the same.”

  “Aren’t you full of metaphors…” Jill grinned. “Which begs the question: what are these beliefs that make you different?”

  “In a nutshell,” I glanced at the moors, “we believe our lives are there to serve the King, and each other, by using our natural skills and tendencies. As a people, we’re one. For example, everything is shared in terms of material possessions; we don’t use money but trade in goods. Those who can work do so, and those who can’t are taken care of. Food can be collected from the market for free. We’re all there to help, support, guide, and to share life with each other.” I sucked in a breath, deciding enough was said of the matter.

  I glanced at Jill rapping her fingers against the gear stick, mulling over the conversation. I was curious how it all sounded in the ears of a foreigner, but first and foremost, all I could think of was how much I missed home.

  *

  The sun had set as we returned to my flat. Neither of us had intended on staying so long, but the afternoon had run away with us.

  As I peeled my tired legs out of the car, Jill reminded me they’d be gone for the weekend for a concert down in London. I wished I could’ve joined them. A weekend alone sounded like too much time to myself.

  “Camilla!”

  I whisked around, my arm still in the air from waving Jill off, and clocked Sebastian running towards me from across the road.

  What is he doing here?

  It was barely six-o’clock but the sky was grey, straining to shed enough light where street lights failed. Yet, I still saw it.

  “What happened to you?” I reached to graze Sebastian’s black eye, but he winced away. Hardly two hours old.

  “Oh, it’s nothing.” Sebastian rubbed the back of his neck. “Martial arts.”

  I crinkled my nose and mouthed an ‘ouch’. “What are you doing here?”

  “My cousin lives around the corner.” Sebastian flicked his thumb somewhere behind him and took a sharp breath. “Hey, you wanna take a walk? In the park, maybe?”

  We cut through a ditch to get to the bottom of the park which was illuminated by street lights and jogged across a field to a bandstand, eerie in its solitude. The fresh mud hardly made a difference to the state of my shoes from a day of hiking.

  Sebastian hopped the few steps up to the bandstand and sat on the built-in bench. His fingers drummed his knees. Something was bothering him.

  “You alright?” I sat next to him.

  He cleared his throat as if to buy time while deciding what to say—or whether to say anything at all. “I gotta ask… What’s the deal with you and that guy?”

  I stared back, dumbfounded. “I don’t follow.”

  Sebastian rubbed his neck again. “I taught an extra class today at uni—Taekwondo, that is—and your friend, Leo, from the cinema, was there.”

  Where would he not be? “Did he give you that?” I pointed at the bruise, my blood heating up in anger.

  “Oh no, no—well, technically, yes. But it was an accide
nt. I thought he was a rookie, so I didn’t have my guard up when we trained.”

  I’ll kick Leo over the border myself.

  “Really, it’s not a big deal. To be honest, it was all the questions he was asking about you and me, and my background, that didn’t sit right with me.”

  My jaw worked over time as I swallowed a few choice words aimed at Leo. “What did you tell him?”

  “About me—not much. It’s none of his business. You—I just said we were friends, but he told me to stay away from you, anyway.”

  Leo sure had some nerve.

  “I’m so sorry.” I reached over to grasp Sebastian’s wrist. “He’s…deluded. He’s like a friend of a friend.” I knew I had to give him more even before Sebastian frowned. “We went out once ages ago and since then he thinks he has the right to butt into my life.”

  Easier than explaining ‘deranged stalker from an unknown land trying to get me to become his partner’.

  Sebastian’s mouth curved as if tasting something that had passed its sell-by date. “That’s not cool—that’s majorly possessive. How come your friends still hang out with him?”

  “It’s complicated. They go way back.” I lowered my eyes for a few seconds. “Look, just leave it. I can handle him. I’ll get him off your back. I’m really sorry.” I released Sebastian’s wrist, suddenly conscious of touching him.

  “Hey” —Sebastian nudged his shoulder against mine— “if you need a hand in getting rid of him, let me know.” He winked, and winced, lifting his palm to hover over the bruise.

  “Tempting…but it’s okay. I’ll teach him a lesson on what’s socially acceptable behaviour. He’s obviously failing hard.”

  I had let Leo get away with too much, sitting on the issue because… because I didn’t want to deal with it. But he had officially forced my hand. The gloves were now off.

  Chapter 16

  I walked Sebastian to his bus stop and waved him off, feeling more like I had downed several double espressos instead of hiking all day.

  Flicking the hood up on my jumper, I headed back towards the park. Stale indoor air didn’t appeal. I kicked loose stones on the path whilst hurling insults aimed at Leo.

  He had to go. He had to. Not only had he crossed the line in messing with my friends, but I couldn’t keep living here with a constant reminder of home—a constant reminder of who I’d been.

  A cloud of frustration trailed me like a puppy. Although I hated to admit it, Leo was only part of the problem. I was the one who had taken a metaphorical sledgehammer and gone to work on my life. I would never find peace within myself if I didn’t strive to do some good with my life as Camilla, and right the only wrong that I could: The Blood Debt.

  It was taught that in rare circumstances the King could release someone from the oath and so resolve the Blood Debt. However, I had once stumbled on another way in the Scrolls: What was bound with blood, could be unbound by it, too.

  For every year I had been Guard, I’d have to kill a Gorahite soldier and shed my blood over them.

  Fourteen kills. Fourteen scars on my forearm. Then the debt would be paid off.

  A plan was birthing itself in my mind. To go against the Gorahites, I had to be strong—lethal. I had to sharpen my skills.

  I swivelled around and jogged towards the exit.

  I knew exactly where to go.

  “I want in.” I slapped a palm against the table. The man sitting on a plastic foldable chair inspected me, bemused.

  “This isn’t sign-in for Zumba, love.” He locked his fingers together behind his head, his legs stretched on a trestle table.

  His feet fell on the floor as I yanked at the table.

  “I’m here to fight.”

  Stone-faced, the man eyed my slim appearance. “Again, this ain’t no place for pretty, little lasses.”

  “Appearances can be deceiving,” I challenged, hearing how ridiculous I sounded.

  The man scoffed and cocked his head towards the exit. “Go home, kiddo.” He pulled the table back.

  “Look, I take full responsibility. Just one fight. You’ve nothing to lose.”

  The man’s mouth moved as if he was chewing gum. “You’re awfully sure about yourself.”

  “This isn’t my first fight.”

  The man spat and coughed out a shred of laughter. “Suit yourself then, love. Enjoy explaining a busted nose to your daddy.” He gestured me towards the hall and I hurried along before he changed his mind.

  A stale smell floated in the corridor as I marched to the end of it and pushed open the rusty metal door. A raucous of shouting and cheering hit me as the scene set. Sweat, tangled with testosterone, hung in the air. A mass of men huddled in a tight circle. Scantily dressed women hovered in the outer circle, holding trays of drinks.

  A little theatrical for my liking.

  Based on the aggressive chanting I gathered a fight was drawing to an end. I unzipped my jumper, tossed it on the floor, and elbowed my way through the mass to the forefront.

  “I’m next.”

  I breathed deep, in and out, jumping on the spot to warm up. The chunk of a man I was up against—with half a face decorated with a tattoo—argued with the man calling the fights. No one wants to fight a girl. The crowd growing impatient determined the outcome of the debate: we were to fight.

  I rounded my posture, fixing my balance point. The man has no real training. Within a second from the start of the fight, I jumped up from the man’s leg and climbed on his back. He tried to throw me down but ended up bringing himself down with me. I rolled on impact and wrapped my legs around his neck. It didn’t take long for him to tap out.

  The next guy was equally easy. Block and duck, jab, jab, kick to the ribs, floor him, and finish with a death grip. For the third guy, I took a few hits for the show before finishing him by nearly ripping his arm out of its socket. A roar of shouts erupted as I released my hold on him and lifted a foot off his back. His ego wounded, he shoved his way out of the circle. I swung my arms back and forth, craving for the next opponent. The bookie took bets from the pumped-up crowd as someone shoved me a glass of water. Grateful, I downed it with big gulps.

  Another man took to the circle, hurling insults. He was tall, well-built, and stereotypically a skinhead. His knuckles popped white as he clenched his fists in front of his face. They never learned.

  I stepped forward—and stumbled. Black spots hit my vision, forcing me to stagger towards the crowd. Voices turned to murmur. I reached out to grab a hold of anything stable as my head spun violently, but the effort was in vain. I fell, back first, against the wall of people.

  At that moment, a pair of arms tucked under my shoulders, and the distance between me and the enraged crowd started growing. Limbs paralysed, I could but surrender.

  A blink later, there was more space, less shouting. The surroundings blurred as someone lifted me up and my upper body slammed against someone’s back, my arms hanging down. Although the blood dripping into my brain eased the spinning, it did nothing to inject fight into my jellified muscles.

  I was losing the battle against unconsciousness when fresh air assaulted my skin and the cold, hard surface of tarmac shocked my body. A murmur of speech echoed near.

  “…She’s…yours. Who…work for?”

  And then darkness claimed me.

  Chapter 17

  I gasped as I came to. It took me a moment to find focus.

  “Shh, it’s all right—easy,” a man said.

  “Who…?” I tried to raise my arm to rub my eyes, but it refused to cooperate, slumping on my nose.

  “If you’re trying to hit yourself, I’d be happy to assist.”

  The source of the dry tone materialised.

  “Leo…?”

  “Yup.” He crouched next to the bed I was lying on.

  “What—”

  “They spiked your drink,” Leo explained, his clipped tone giving away the emotions he was trying to hold back.

  I concentrated on bringing
myself back on track. The man at the door, fighting, water, hard floor. Yes, there was something foreign in my body, and it really didn’t agree with me.

  “Where am I?”

  The bed dipped as Leo sat on it. “My place.”

  “H-how? What were you doing there?” I couldn’t stop my words from slurring. “In the…you know.”

  “Saving your butt. Again. I was in your neighbourhood when I clocked you storming down the streets with that up-to-no-good look. Figured I better tag along.”

  I blinked, repeatedly, and shifted my upper body, trying to lean on the headboard. If my head spun any faster the juices in my brain would turn to cream.

  “I wanna go home.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think so. We need to get you checked out.”

  “No, I’m fine!” I intended to grasp Leo’s arm but ended up slumped down on his lap. Amused, he pushed me back.

  “O-kay, as convincing as that was… I’m taking you to the hospital. Need to have you well enough for a telling off.” Even with my blurred vision, his glare was a formidable force to be reckoned with.

  “Do you really think there’s anything a doctor can tell me that I don’t already know?”

  “Do you really think that attitude is going to work in your favour?”

  Touché. “What I mean is, there’s nothing they can do but make me rest and wait it out. Trust me—no need for a doctor. I’m just lightheaded.”

  I felt his gaze narrow on me as I allowed my eyelids to droop at will.

  “We’ll see,” Leo said after a moment. “I’m gonna get you some water. You need to flush it out.”

  I slid down on the bed, sinking into it. Soft, soft bed.

  A twisting feeling in my stomach stirred me awake. I swiped hair off my face as a tall glass of water appeared in my vision.

  “You fell asleep.” Leo nudged his chin at me. “Drink.”

  I took the glass but barely moistened my lips before placing it on the bedside table, the motion aggravating my stomach further.