Soulsworn by Terry C. Simpson

for us to go. Those kingdoms might offer our best chance at a life where we won’t need to look over our shoulders every day, or worry about a knife in the dark, or the Blades showing up to drag us off to the gibbets.” Clara giggled and then leaned down to whisper to one of her dolls. “And it’s the best chance to save your sister, perhaps the only chance.”
    “There’s nothing wrong with Clara,” Nerisse said defiantly, but her tremulous voice made a liar of her words.
    “It’s time we both faced the truth.” Aidah smiled a gentle smile, but her heart was heavy. Clara was still talking to her dolls. “Your sister has been different for some time now, but since the night at the estate it has only grown worse … the dreams, the dolls. She’s losing her senses, and before her ailment becomes any worse we must do something to help.”
    “It’s all my fault,” Nerisse blurted. She burst into sobs. “It’s all my fault.”
    Clara looked up at her sister, frowning. She stood and hugged Nerisse. “Don’t cry, Neri. Don’t cry.”
    “I’m so sorry, sis. I should’ve tried to stop him. I should’ve told Father.”
    “Stop who? What do you mean?” Aidah asked.
    “Ainslen, Mother,” Nerisse said between sobs. “I was there when he induced Clara. Oh Gods, I’m so, so sorry.” She squeezed her sister tight.
    Slack-jawed, Aidah covered her mouth. She repeated Nerisse’s words. They could not be true. Nerisse was mistaken. She made to ask if Nerisse was certain but the question fled her. The pain in Nerisse’s expression as she clung to Clara spoke on its own.
    “When,” Aidah began, voice hoarse. She cleared her throat. “How did this happen?”
    Red-faced, Nerisse wiped at her eyes with the back of her hands. Clara resumed her playful banter with the dolls. “Ainslen had come to our home to see Father,” Nerisse said between sniffles. “The servants brought him into the sitting room to wait while Father had another meeting. Clara and I were there, reading. Ainslen asked to see my progress with soul magic. I was happy to show him the skills Father taught me.
    “A time came when he peered over at Clara and started, as if he’d seen a spirit. He muttered something about not seeing Clara’s soul, like Father would say sometimes. He called Clara over and touched her head with soul. I-I didn’t give it much thought until the estate when Lomin mentioned induction. Ever since then I’ve had nightmares about it, but what happened was real. Thinking back to that day, I know now what I saw. Father began teaching Clara how to meld a few days after Ainslen touched her.”
    Fire blazed within Aidah, red, scalding, blinding. Quivering under its spell, she watched Clara talking to her dolls, recalled her precious little daughter’s nightmares, and the flames grew. She did not yet know how, but she would make Ainslen pay.

T he Forever Princess
    T his is all Ainslen’s fault. All of it. All this pain and suffering. Aidah looked at Clara where she lay under the blankets. The thoughts rekindled a simmering rage and brought hot tears.
    Two weeks on the road, traveling from dawn until well into the night to stay ahead of any pursuit, had not lessened her feelings. They’d reached Monere, a little over three quarters of the way to Melanil, and still she heard Nerisse’s story as if the girl just told it. Lomin had wanted to continue on, but dwindling supplies worked against them. This time they chose to go to the town together.
    Aidah was glad for the stop. She felt the children needed some semblance of normalcy, even if it was just for a day. She could certainly use it. Since Garangal they’d spent every night sleeping outdoors, and to once more have a roof over her head and the comfort of an inn and a feather bed felt like heaven. Besides, the vast majority of people they saw on the road had been refugees like themselves. The occasional soldier had taken little notice of their caravan.
    Sighing, she lay