Silver Blood (Series of Blood Book 1) by Emma Hamm (android e book reader .txt) 📗

Gaia slowly nodded. “In a sense. Magic has to come from somewhere. In the same way that Malachi used her, she will have to burn through the soul that is inside her.”

“She won’t kill something to use it’s magic.”

“She may have to before the end of this war. I have a feeling there are some powers that are innate to Legion, however.”

“How so?” he asked.

“Well, everything starts somewhere.” Gaia smiled. “Haven’t you wondered why Legion has always created Juice so easily?”

“Prior knowledge?” Burke shrugged.

“I believe Legion came to be from the first inhalation of a Djinn’s dark soul. A combination of darkness and light if you will. It would certainly explain why Wren has been able to create Juice without any prior knowledge of magic. Or any magic really.”

“So you’re saying that E has been creating Juice without having to use its memories? I saw the dreams turning black and white in Wren’s head.”

“A dream is easy to control.” Gaia steepled her fingers. “Legion is certainly powerful. But not entirely able to save itself. Some souls aren’t made to exist for very long.”

“Hers is.”

They knew of whom he spoke. Wren was close to his mind and ever close to his heart.

“If anyone might be able to save her, it’s you two,” Gaia said as she leaned back into her chair. “Go and speak with Legion. The healers should be done with her body by now.”

“Thank you,” he muttered.

Everything had become overwhelming. He stood slowly, as though his body had aged far beyond its years.

The hallways didn’t register in his mind. His feet trod down the well lit structure that was Haven but his mind was already in the room where he had left her. This place wasn’t meant to be a hospital. Every room that was in use was meant to be a living room. A bedroom. Hell, even the bathrooms had Red Bloods situated in them to keep them comfortable and safe.

Now Wren was also in one of those rooms. She had been laid on top of a table that would be her makeshift bed. A glass chandelier above her had once deemed the room a formal dining area. But now it was the place where she would fight to heal herself.

He opened the door slowly. They had piled pillows underneath her and propped her up high enough for her to be looking at him when he walked in. But it wasn’t Wren looking at him. It was E and all it’s thousands of souls staring out of white marble eyes.

“E.”

“Burke.”

There were no healers in the room, but she appeared to no longer be in pain. Burke wasn’t certain if they had managed to completely heal her body or if E was simply used to being uncomfortable. He would bet on the latter.

“How are you feeling?”

“Physically, this form will heal.” E gestured at its body. “The poison was weak.”

“You mean it didn’t affect you.” Burke took a wild guess. Gaia was rarely wrong when she finally discovered what creatures were.

Wren’s head slowly nodded. “So the gold one told you.”

“She spoke with you as well?” Burke’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

“While I was having surgery, yes. Her theory is unusual but perhaps correct.”

“So you think you can use powers as well?”

“I have not tried in a long time.”

Burke reached out to take Wren’s hand. He knew it wasn’t her that he was holding onto, but it was still comforting to have her squeeze his hand back. E was kind to comfort him in a time like this.

“Have you found her?”

She shook her head sadly.

“How do we get her back?”

E appeared to think for a few moments before reluctantly beginning to speak. “When Wren was forced to come forward so many times by Malachi, he was tearing at her soul. The easiest way to describe what I am made of is fine bits of tissue. Together, we are incredibly strong. Like a sheet of fabric that cannot be ripped by being pulled in one direction or the other.

“Malachi forces the souls inside of me to be alone. Each time he did that, Wren’s soul was no longer protected by me. It wore thin in certain places until holes were formed. She wasn’t just losing her mind, Burke. She was losing parts of herself.”

He rubbed his chest as the ache in his heart grew. He didn’t want to know what that had felt like to her. “And the bruises?”

“The physical form is no less capable of handling such treatment,” E grumbled. “These forms are far too sensitive. It is much easier to not have a form at all.”

“We are not in the past.”

“No we aren’t.” E sighed. “I filled in the holes that I could. Some of my souls pulled themselves apart to replace what she had lost. But she was still weak and dangerously close to no longer being a soul at all. We gathered her into the deepest part of our form that we could. But when we took her into those shadows we… lost her.”

“You lost her?”

“It is easy to do. I am not just souls. But also the substance that souls are made of. Smoke, fog, thin streams of light and color. It is easy for souls to want to go back to what their original form was.”

“Is she gone then?” The devastation in his voice made it hard to speak. His throat closed up before he could say more.

“I do not know. I have never had this happen before.”

Burke withdrew his hand then. He would have to leave. He could not continue to look at this body that had once been hers without her in it. The empty shell wasn’t Wren. It was someone else entirely.

His head dropped into his hands. The silhouette his body made was the outline of a man stricken with grief. He had only just found her, and now she was no longer here. No more mad colors streaming from her beautiful face. No more laughter at inappropriate