Tainted (Lisen of Solsta Book 2) Read online

  INDIE READER DISCOVERY

  AWARDS WINNER

  YOUNG ADULT CATEGORY

  2014

  “IR Verdict: Fantastical and realistic, TAINTED is a unique, compelling tale that would likely appeal to readers of all ages.”

  The reviews for Tainted are in:

  “Ms. St. Martin grabbed me again. Lisen, our hero, does not disappoint. Tainted is a strong second book in the series. Korin fans will enjoy his performance (no pun intended).”

  - M. Franco

  “You’ll find yourself sucked into the world Hart builds and expands around you. Her imagination is astonishing.”

  - Diana Graves

  “Accompany Lisen, a fledgling in a new world, on an exciting journey where unforeseen circumstances can force one to make difficult choices. A ‘good read’ that you won’t want to put down.”

  - N. Mueller

  “As the second book in the series, Tainted continues with excellent character development and I can’t wait for the third book to come out. I’ve become very invested in the characters and the world that St. Martin has created.”

  - Caterina Franco

  Tainted

  Lisen of Solsta

  Book II

  D. Hart St. Martin

  Cover art and design by

  Aidana WillowRaven/WillowRaven Illustration and Design Plus

  http://WillowRaven.weebly.com

  Copyright © 2013 D. Hart St. Martin

  Published by D. Hart St. Martin

  All rights reserved.

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1 – Finally, Freedom

  Chapter 2 – Navigating the Voids

  Chapter 3 – Descent

  Chapter 4 – Thristas Rising

  Chapter 5 – One too Many Heirs

  Chapter 6 – In Pursuit of a Sooth

  Chapter 7 – Letting Go, Holding On

  Chapter 8 – There was no Other

  Chapter 9 – Evennight Here and There

  Chapter 10 – Go Then and Seek

  Chapter 11 – The Farii

  Chapter 12 – The Morning After

  Chapter 13 – Beyond First Impressions

  Chapter 14 – Tenuous Trust

  Chapter 15 – The Spark Before the Fire

  Chapter 16 – On, to Avaret

  Chapter 17 – Hurry Home

  Chapter 18 – Korin’s Choice

  Chapter 19 – Ariel’s Truth

  Chapter 20 – Purpose

  Chapter 21 – Ah, the Expectations

  Chapter 22 – The Hermit’s Challenge

  Chapter 23 – She Loved No One

  Chapter 24 – Pushing is Easy

  Chapter 25 – First Blood

  Cast of Characters

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Map of Garla

  About the Author

  Blooded

  CHAPTER ONE

  FINALLY, FREEDOM

  Three days. Three freakin’ days of waiting, mostly alone, in this little stone room with no windows, not even a television. At least a TV would have given her something to do. Not even a book to read. There were scrolls here at Rossla Haven, and Nalin had brought some in for her, but they were all religious—hermit stuff—nothing that would have staved off the boredom.

  And then there was Nalin. Ah, yes, Nalin. He came and went, which seemed odd to Lisen because hadn’t he told her that the recognition of him, not of her, could be their undoing? Maybe he’d found another hidden place, hidden from her and the others as well. Regardless, he had his freedom, but not poor Lisen of Solsta. She was stuck. After weeks of possession with two souls imprisoned as one in her mind, dispossession had freed her, but now her body was locked up instead. Damn.

  She hated this body. She’d tried. She really had. She’d tried as hard as she could to accept the lack of what she considered to be real breasts, to accept the fur on her belly and the pouch where a bellybutton should be. She’d gone along with all of their plans for her life, all of the things that they all found quite natural and normal, but the novelty had worn off, leaving her with just an ugly, flat-chested, no-breasted, furry-bellied, open-holed body. Yuck.

  “You know who would have loved this,” she said to the emptiness of the room, standing up and pacing around, pontificating in English to no one but the walls. “Dad would have loved this. I remember him coming home—what was it? A year ago?—all excited about something one of his physicist friends at Cal Tech had told him. About how there might actually be alternate universes, and maybe even portals through time and space.” She paused, then continued more softly. “Something, it occurs to me now, he already knew.” Now that was a thought.

  She absorbed it and then carried on. “So, did Eloise the Slippery tell me the truth about there being no way back? I mean, how does she know? What if I could go back? I could prove to the entire scientific community that there are other worlds with people just like us that you don’t need rockets to…get…to.”

  She stopped. “Damn, if I went back there, I’d be the freakin’ ‘Kangaroo Girl.’ Great.”

  She remained where she stood, wondering how much longer they’d have to wait for Korin’s return. He was the only bright star in the dark night of what had become of her life. The only thing worth sticking around for—her Captain Cutie. That and her eighteenth birthday, which, she had realized after making such a point of it with the holder, meant nothing in Garla. She’d already reached her “majority” at sixteen as far as they were concerned here. Made her wonder why her brother had waited so long to off their mother.

  She froze at the sound of footsteps. Nalin was bringing their breakfast. In the three days since she’d regained herself, she’d learned the routine. He got up and pulled on his tunic while she pretended to still be asleep. After a half hour or so, he returned with a tray of food, the same sort of food she’d grown used to at Solsta. Despite the grandness of this haven, the routine and the daily fare from the kitchen remained familiar, even though she was denied the opportunity to actually participate in that routine.

  The latch lifted, and she sat down on her cot and watched as Nalin pushed the door open with his shoulder, a tray in his hands, and then urged the door closed again with one foot.

  “Good morning,” he said, a little chilly as usual, and he set the tray down on the small table between them and settled onto his cot. “Sleep well?”

  Every morning it was the same, as predictable as the haven in which they sat. Three “good mornings,” three breakfasts with Nalin eating very little and Lisen scarfing down all her stomach could hold. It was like she hadn’t eaten in weeks. No, wait, I haven’t eaten in weeks. She smiled at her little joke.

  “Lisen?” Nalin asked, and she shared her smile with him, though not the joke.

  “Yes. Yes, I did sleep well. Thank you.” She scooted closer to the table, grabbed the worn wooden spoon, scooped up some of the warm oatmeal-like cereal and put it into her mouth.

  “You really have improved,” he commented, picking at the small chunk of bread he’d brought for himself.

  She looked at him, remembering their first encounter after the dispossession. When he’d walked in to check on her then, she’d already crawled into bed, exhausted and finally able to sleep. To her weary eyes, he’d glowed like an angel, with his flowing blond hair and a smile that had broken through at the sight of her sane once again. He’d felt to her like sunshine breaking through clouds. She shook her head. Enough, Lisen. You’re going all ga-ga, and you’ve got enough of that in your life.

  “So,” she said to distract herself from the foolishness, “what happens once Ko…once Captain Rosarel, I mean, gets back?”

  “We’ll
see when he gets here.”

  “And until then, I’m locked up in here, the mystery woman in the infirmary.”

  This inspired a little snort from the young noble. A chuckle? Lisen wondered.

  He brushed a loose strand of hair back behind his ear. “The less those hermits out there know, the better. What you look like. Why you’re here. Means they won’t be able to tell Lorain’s spies much of anything when they get here except that someone was here and now they’re not.”

  “I know,” Lisen said. “You’ve told me all that before. You know what I think? I think it’s just to get back at me for the fact that you had to go back to Avaret instead of riding with us to Halorin.”

  She had hoped for another smile at this reference to his unwilling role as distraction to her brother, Ariel—the brother she’d never met but whose continued existence would allegedly produce all sorts of evil were he allowed to survive. But instead, she watched as Nalin closed up, his light blue eyes chilling to frost. Only then did she realize what she’d actually said; she’d reminded him that he hadn’t been there when Jozan, his dearest friend—and her friend, too—had succumbed to a knife wound delivered by her brother’s spy. Or Lorain Zanlot’s, her brother’s lover. The two names had grown synonymous in her mind.

  The fact that Lisen had dispatched the spy, managing to survive; that Korin, her captain, had removed the threat of the first spy’s companion; that the secret of her existence had appeared to have survived intact—none of these things eased Nalin’s pain at the loss of his friend. Perhaps it was because only two weeks had passed between the time he’d found himself forced to adjust to the assassination of Empir Flandari—his mentor and Lisen’s mother—and the night of Jozan’s murder.

  “Sorry,” she said softly, eyes down, staring at her food. She wasn’t very hungry anymore.

  “No, no. Don’t be sorry.” He waved her off. “You’re the Heir-Empir and should never apologize for anything.”

  He had no idea what statements like this did to her. It got her feeling all gooey inside, and not the good kind of gooey. She’d been the Heir-Empir for how long? It had been barely a month since her return from Earth, and thinking of parentage, her parentage, always brought her back to the Holts who’d loved her and guided her and pretended they were her parents for seven years. And God, she missed them.

  Stop it, she ordered herself and urged that pain back into the part of her brain that could cushion the hurt.

  “You must have some idea what the plan is. Come on. Tell me. Please?” she asked, steering the conversation towards what she hoped would be a more comfortable topic.

  Nalin sighed. “I’ll be returning to Avaret, of course.”

  “Of course. And me?” She thought she knew the answer. Nalin had let it slip that Korin had headed off to the desert as soon as he’d laid her down on the cot where she now sat.

  “You and Rosarel will ride to Thristas. The captain has this idea that Garlan spies will find it difficult to trace the two of you once you’re over the Rim.”

  Lisen nodded. “That’s what he thinks. What do you think?” Nalin and Korin hadn’t agreed on much of anything during the short time that she’d known them. It seemed that Korin prevailed because he came up with the more devious and, therefore, more effective ideas.

  “He’s right,” Nalin replied. “Thristas is a different world. And although I wouldn’t say Lorain has no Thristan spy in her employ, I don’t know why she’d need one. Until now, of course.”

  “Which means that it could take her time to find one.”

  “Precisely,” Nalin agreed.

  “That must mean I’m learning, my getting that,” she said and found herself fiddling nervously with her hermit ring, slipping it up and down her left middle finger with the fingers of her other hand.

  He nodded. “Yes, you’re learning,” he replied. “But I’m afraid you’ll have to leave that behind.”

  “What?” she asked. “What behind?”

  “Your ring. Anything hermit will light the Thristans up like bonfires.”

  “Oh.” She didn’t like it. He was ordering her around, and she didn’t like it.

  With a sudden whoosh, the discomfort of the moment blew wide open, obliterated by someone bursting into the infirmary. Both she and Nalin looked up to the door, she afraid that her brother’s spies had found her. But then, with the slamming of the door, Lisen recognized the intruder. Korin, she thought with a gasp. Then, “Korin,” she said, unable to look away from him.

  “Yes, my Liege.” The captain pulled up a chair, set it down between the two of them where they sat on their cots and sat down, straddling it, leaning into its back with his chest.

  “What the hell happened to your eye?” Lisen had been aware of his presence in the carriage those last days before reaching Rossla, but she had never really focused on him. She did, however, recall noticing something amiss, but she’d been unable to identify it. Now she saw it clearly for the first time—a black patch over his left eye.

  “An accident, my Liege.”

  “When?” Lisen asked, needing to know now, not later.

  “The night of Heir Tuane’s murder. It’s nothing.”

  “Your eye?”

  “Also nothing,” he replied with a wry grin. “It’s gone.” He shrugged. “I’m adjusting.”

  “And like Jozan, it’s gone because of me?”

  Korin sighed. He seemed uncomfortable under the glare of her attention. “It’s gone because your assailant’s companion got lucky before she got unlucky. I have no complaints.”

  “I’m…I’m so sorry,” Lisen managed and saw Nalin’s quick glare at the apology. If it weren’t okay for her to apologize to a noble, how bad must it be to do so to a lowly captain of the Guard? She didn’t care, and she shot Nalin an equally quick glare back, then returned to Korin.

  “You seem more yourself, my Liege,” Korin said. Lisen noticed that his face, streaked with grime, reflected a long, dirty ride.

  “Nearly,” she replied.

  “Then the possession…?”

  “Jozan is gone,” she said, “three days now.” She spoke bluntly to avoid any confusion.

  “Good,” her captain said. “That’s very good.”

  Did she see a smile hinting at the corners of his mouth? Yes, she decided. Definitely a smile.

  “Captain, she appears better than she actually is,” Nalin said.

  “My lord, I’d prefer hearing it from her.” Korin turned his attention fully on Lisen. “My Liege?”

  “I’m fine,” she stated flatly.

  “Then let’s talk about why I’m here.”

  “I know why you’re here,” Lisen said. “You’re here to take me to the desert.”

  “Aye, my Liege.”

  The holder no longer existed—only this man of the dark hair, the dark patch over what once had been a dark eye. And something else, something in his manner she couldn’t define. A quickness of thought, not out of character, but more pronounced somehow.

  “I think it would be wise if we leave today, immediately,” he pronounced.

  “No,” Nalin objected, and Lisen turned to him, away from the enticing enigma with the missing eye, and got the chilly blues again.

  “Nalin, I’m ready. The sooner, the better.” So much moving about. So many farewells to one place after another.

  “You need more rest, more time,” the holder insisted.

  “I don’t have more time,” she answered.

  “I’ve brought appropriate apparel,” Korin said and tossed the pack he’d carried in with him to her. She caught it and nodded. “The outer robes are for when we’ve crossed the Rim. Besides that, you may wear whatever you please.”

  “Thank you.” She wanted to thank him for his sacrifice, too, but she’d already caused him enough discomfort about that.

  “My Liege,” Nalin pleaded, reaching a hand across the table between them to touch her arm.

  She pulled away. “No. You said it yourself. Th
e longer I’m here, the more vulnerable the hermits will be when questioned and the easier it will be for someone to know for sure that I was here. I’ll be safer in Thristas.”

  “Are you sure you’re able to travel?” Nalin asked. She could tell this was the last protest in his arsenal.

  “I’ll be fine,” she replied. He looked sad, and she couldn’t figure out why this moved her so.

  “All right,” he whispered.

  “Good. You,” Korin said, pointing at her as he rose from his chair, “get changed, and we’ll meet you outside.”

  “Outside? Really? Outside?” She spoke with sarcastic enthusiasm, but neither of them responded. Nalin simply rose, and the two of them left her so she could change into her travel gear.

  She dressed quickly, slipping out of the nightshift she’d worn for far too many days, pretending to be sick when she wasn’t. Remnants of Jozan remained—she’d lied to Korin about that—but the effect was minimal. She couldn’t wait to get out of this room, out into the world again, even if what that meant was escape into the unknown of the desert.

  Once she finished, she threw the pack and its remaining contents over her shoulder and stepped to the door. There she paused and looked back at the room. Here, she’d been freed of the possession and let go of Jozan. She had survived—a miracle if she could believe what they all said, that possession never ended well. Lisen had been lucky that the Other smothering her soul had also been a strong-willed woman. A woman who, in the end, had shown Lisen all about the man she’d likely end up marrying one day. He wasn’t a bad man, this Holder Nalin Corday. Nor was he bad looking, with his pretty blond hair and baby-blue eyes. But truth was, Nalin Corday could be just plain boring.

  Lisen sighed. One last look as she realized she would never forget this room nor what had transpired here. Too many deaths, and it must end.

  She opened the door and found the holder waiting for her. They stood alone in the hallway, staring at one another.