Read Online Bonded: Book One of the ShadowLight Saga, an Epic Fantasy Adventure by Mande Matthews - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Mande Matthews
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"You would have been
exposed. Not even the godhi could have saved you."
Rolf swiveled his head
toward Swan, studying her, identifying his companions’ similarities. Hallad
recognized the resemblance too—their height, their sculpted features—the
likeness uncanny, though she was white as winter and he as golden as summer.
"Nonsense!"
Erik said. "You are not going to listen to this twaddle, are you?"
Hallad couldn’t speak. A
jolt buzzed through him. Swan smiled directly at him for the first time—a wide,
soft smile that defied her iron-edge. He knew. Something inside him churned. In
the same moment that their connection felt right, Hallad felt betrayed.
"Twins are sacred,"
cut in the priestess. "They are revered as blessed by our goddess Freyja. For
epochs, the seed of the Shadow has sought to sully the holiness of twins as he
knew the Savior would come in two. His weak minded minions spread this vile lie
to fool the ignorant."
Erik snorted. Rolf’s jaw
flung open harboring silence for the first time. Ase fixated on Hallad.
"A crucial future
lays ahead of you, young man."
The priestess clapped. Gisla
fumbled with a leather scabbard in response, handing the sheath to her
mistress. A swoosh resonated as Ase drew a heavy blade from the encasement,
bending over to lay the sword before Hallad.
"From your mother,
Isla. A powerful and wise priestess."
The sword matched
Swan’s—or Astrid’s—except an elegant bird graced the hilt. His twin leaned
over, laying her blade parallel to Hallad’s. The hilts entwined as if forged
together, forming a towering tree digging its roots in the earth with the swan
nestled in the ash’s protection.
"You and Astrid, or
perhaps Swan is more appropriate." She stood with the help of her elm
branch and continued, "You must come with me to IronWood." She tapped
her walking stick on the ground. "We must prepare. Nei time to waste. You
and Swan are to be bonded as sal drengrs."
"Sal drengrs?"
asked Hallad.
"Soul Warriors. Those
destined to fight side by side for life," said the priestess.
"Fight who?"
Hallad’s gut twisted at the thought of the drunk’s words from Merchants’ Row, and
the unknown foe who sought his twin.
Erik erupted, "IronWood?
Soul Warriors? You don’t believe her do you? You’re not twins with this . . .
this . . . "
Erik threw up his hands
in frustration.
"There is truth in
what she says," Hallad replied. "I can’t explain it blood brother, I
can feel our connection—"
"What about Emma?"
Erik screamed.
"Who is Emma?"
Ase asked.
Erik turned on the priestess,
overflowing with desperation.
"Emma is my . . . "
He reached underneath his tunic, grabbing at something beneath his shirt.
"My sister,"
Hallad interrupted. "She disappeared into the Shadow when we . . . "
Sorrow edged in as he sensed Swan’s pull on him—sorrow, guilt, disgust with
himself for all his failures and all who he had failed.
"I see."
Ase settled back down,
opening the front of her robe to expose a cat-skinned pouch about her waist. She
reached inside and drew out a black bag. With a flick of her thin wrist she
shook the contents and held the pouch out to Erik.
"Draw a stone."
Erik hesitated—his
distrust of Ase at odds with his curiosity. Slowly, he reached into the bag and
pulled his hand back in a fist. He unfolded his fingers, holding the stone out
for the priestess. The rock in Erik’s thick palm bore no markings what-so-ever.
Gisla gasped, covering
her mouth. Ase clicked her tongue.
"The rune of the
unknown."
"What is that
supposed to mean?" asked Erik.
"Either it is not
for us to know yet, or Emma has already passed to the Hall of the Gods,"
the priestess replied.
Erik shot up from his
sitting position and pounded his fist into the nearest table with a loud
thwack. He whirled on Ase.
"You are wrong! You
know nothing!" He spun around to Hallad, his eyes brimming. "You are
not going to believe her? You are not going to follow this mad old goat, are
you?"
Hallad
exposed. Not even the godhi could have saved you."
Rolf swiveled his head
toward Swan, studying her, identifying his companions’ similarities. Hallad
recognized the resemblance too—their height, their sculpted features—the
likeness uncanny, though she was white as winter and he as golden as summer.
"Nonsense!"
Erik said. "You are not going to listen to this twaddle, are you?"
Hallad couldn’t speak. A
jolt buzzed through him. Swan smiled directly at him for the first time—a wide,
soft smile that defied her iron-edge. He knew. Something inside him churned. In
the same moment that their connection felt right, Hallad felt betrayed.
"Twins are sacred,"
cut in the priestess. "They are revered as blessed by our goddess Freyja. For
epochs, the seed of the Shadow has sought to sully the holiness of twins as he
knew the Savior would come in two. His weak minded minions spread this vile lie
to fool the ignorant."
Erik snorted. Rolf’s jaw
flung open harboring silence for the first time. Ase fixated on Hallad.
"A crucial future
lays ahead of you, young man."
The priestess clapped. Gisla
fumbled with a leather scabbard in response, handing the sheath to her
mistress. A swoosh resonated as Ase drew a heavy blade from the encasement,
bending over to lay the sword before Hallad.
"From your mother,
Isla. A powerful and wise priestess."
The sword matched
Swan’s—or Astrid’s—except an elegant bird graced the hilt. His twin leaned
over, laying her blade parallel to Hallad’s. The hilts entwined as if forged
together, forming a towering tree digging its roots in the earth with the swan
nestled in the ash’s protection.
"You and Astrid, or
perhaps Swan is more appropriate." She stood with the help of her elm
branch and continued, "You must come with me to IronWood." She tapped
her walking stick on the ground. "We must prepare. Nei time to waste. You
and Swan are to be bonded as sal drengrs."
"Sal drengrs?"
asked Hallad.
"Soul Warriors. Those
destined to fight side by side for life," said the priestess.
"Fight who?"
Hallad’s gut twisted at the thought of the drunk’s words from Merchants’ Row, and
the unknown foe who sought his twin.
Erik erupted, "IronWood?
Soul Warriors? You don’t believe her do you? You’re not twins with this . . .
this . . . "
Erik threw up his hands
in frustration.
"There is truth in
what she says," Hallad replied. "I can’t explain it blood brother, I
can feel our connection—"
"What about Emma?"
Erik screamed.
"Who is Emma?"
Ase asked.
Erik turned on the priestess,
overflowing with desperation.
"Emma is my . . . "
He reached underneath his tunic, grabbing at something beneath his shirt.
"My sister,"
Hallad interrupted. "She disappeared into the Shadow when we . . . "
Sorrow edged in as he sensed Swan’s pull on him—sorrow, guilt, disgust with
himself for all his failures and all who he had failed.
"I see."
Ase settled back down,
opening the front of her robe to expose a cat-skinned pouch about her waist. She
reached inside and drew out a black bag. With a flick of her thin wrist she
shook the contents and held the pouch out to Erik.
"Draw a stone."
Erik hesitated—his
distrust of Ase at odds with his curiosity. Slowly, he reached into the bag and
pulled his hand back in a fist. He unfolded his fingers, holding the stone out
for the priestess. The rock in Erik’s thick palm bore no markings what-so-ever.
Gisla gasped, covering
her mouth. Ase clicked her tongue.
"The rune of the
unknown."
"What is that
supposed to mean?" asked Erik.
"Either it is not
for us to know yet, or Emma has already passed to the Hall of the Gods,"
the priestess replied.
Erik shot up from his
sitting position and pounded his fist into the nearest table with a loud
thwack. He whirled on Ase.
"You are wrong! You
know nothing!" He spun around to Hallad, his eyes brimming. "You are
not going to believe her? You are not going to follow this mad old goat, are
you?"
Hallad
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