All Souls Trilogy Deborah Harkness Novels & Stories

“She’ll fight.” The Harbinger smiled. “Good. I want her to.” He rose in a slow, deliberate motion. Power rolled off him in waves now, rippling through the dead trees beyond the ruined temple, stirring the ash like wind. The sky above had darkened unnaturally - no moon, no stars. Just black. He stretched a hand outward, and from the void, the twisted souls he had gathered began to move. Shadows with form. With teeth. With purpose. “She’s too strong to crack like the others,” he said, more to himself now. “So we peel her open. Gently. Repeatedly. Until the thing inside her - the wolf, the queen, the flame - starts to wonder if it should’ve burned for someone else.”

Grabbing her chest she winced painfully. "Help!" She cried as she fell into a crumbled mass on the bedroom floor. In the kitchen, Hoka had arrived and was listening to Faelon explain what had occurred. They all paused hearing Sophia and rushed to the room she was in. Hoka shook his head as he hissed," That Anthony fellow is dead and the part of her soul he had is searching for a place to settle. Get her on the bed quickly and I will try to lead the soul back here." Running his hands over Sophia and chanting words, Hoka paused and grinned slightly.

I thought, "Dear God, if you're still willing to listen even if I have no white ribbon to make my wish, but on the account that I'd prayed to you and lit up the candle so sincerely many times in the past, please grant this final wish of mine. "I wish that I, Winter Brooke, will no longer have anything to do with him, Finnegan Churchill, for the rest of our lives, or even the next life if there is one."

She has released the Entity that was trapped inside Silas’s original Rift-experiment—a being known only as the First Mother. The shadow that rises from the broken diamond isn't a person. It’s a sentient frequency that looks exactly like a ten-foot-tall version of Zora. "Thank you, Daughter," the Entity whispers, its voice vibrating in Zora’s teeth. "The Spires are dead. The Throne is broken. Now... we begin the Real Harvest." The Entity turns its gaze toward Lagos.

“Not Death. That’s nature. What we’re dealing with is theft. A being that steals souls—not when it’s time, but whenever it pleases. It corrupts them. Consumes them. It’s older than Hell itself.” Trish continued. “We think it’s linked to Caim—one of Hell’s generals. He was a soul harvester, a corrupter of hope. Gabriel defeated him in the Great War… but now…” Faith’s voice dropped. “You don’t think it’s Caim, do you?” Larkam’s eyes darkened. “No. We believe it’s something worse. A force we haven’t identified. One that’s killing your family.” Scott’s grief flared. “Then tell me what it is. What the hell is doing this?”

I whispered, the name tasting like cold ash. From the black-emerald light of the Ziggurat, a new figure stepped out—not a god, and not a machine, but a Revenant of the Foundry, his skin still charred by my sunset-gold fire, his eyes glowing with the hollow, blue light of a Man who has already been through Hell. "Welcome back to the Foundry of the Soul, Darlene," Silas growled, his voice a perfect mirror of my own nightmares. "It’s time to find out if the 'Queen' can survive the Ghosts she thought she had Buried."

But one name came up again and again: Hark. He was Rosa’s former beta. Thought to be dead. He wasn’t. And now, he had Dickson.

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter. I don’t need you tattle-telling everything I do and reporting it back to your mommy. I get the fucking job done dont I? Exactly. I got something for you to go back and tell Abbaddon, how about FUCK YOU!!” “Do you feel better now? Cause we have a job to do.” Ornais stated. “They’re moving quickly to capture this soul from you.” “I know, but what am I supposed to do? It’s not like I can just go in and char it beyond repair like every other one. I have to be careful.” Daniel sighed, putting his head in his hands. He was up against a wall. Every move was documented and reported back to Abaddon. The Seven Deadly Sins had this one, why did he get assigned to it

“The statistics were against you. You got lucky.” How many people does she know that have died from anything other than natural causes? Growing up, how many children did she know that ended up slitting their wrists or throwing themselves out windows because they couldn’t take their lives anymore? All my life I’ve witnessed death. I’ve lived with it and brushed past it in the hall, knowing it could come for me any second. No amount of apologising can make me forget the fear I felt. Or the loneliness. It can’t give back all of the tears I cried or the eighteen years I spent festering in hell before a Sario rescued me. A Sario. Of all people, I found salvation in a Sario.