While Phaut pages through a book about the mythologies of the Nuvalyn Empire’s western provinces, the ones that border the Dead Wood, I open a compendium of the Shamanic Callings. I flip past the first four: fire, water, earth, and wind. I’ll read them more thoroughly later. Right now, my interest is in the Calling of Light.

I skim the first two: lightgivers, shamans who can transfer the energy, or light, of one person to another; and light stitchers.

I turn to the last craft. Soulguides. The section begins with a preface that all the knowledge therein should be read with the understanding that only one soulguide has ever existed and so it couldn’t be verified against any other sources. Not the most confident of texts, but I’ll take what I can get.

The section goes on to cover the few things I already know, like how a soulguide’s power can resonate with other spirits, and how if Sury were present at someone’s death, she could guide the soul safely into the afterlife. Or depending on the type of death and the condition of the body, she could ensnare the departing soul and coax it back, restoring the person to life.

The next paragraph talks about how Sury could disarm shamans by choking their bonds with their familiars, rendering them temporarily powerless. Or she could sever those bonds entirely. That would be handy against other shamans.

Unfortunately, that’s the end of the section. Hardly anything at all. I need to locate a proper biography on Sury, one that isn’t based on legend and speculation. If such a thing exists.

Turning the page, I discover the next two are missing. At first, I think they might have fallen out due to the book’s age and the broken binding. But a quick examination confirms the pages were torn hastily and messily. The inner margin of the first page is still intact, including part of the heading: Soulrender. Calling of Light.

I stare at the words. Then I flip back to count the crafts, even though I know I’ve read through all three already. But there aren’t three. There are four.

I press down the ragged edges of the torn page. Very little text is left, and all I can glean is that soulrenders were efficient game hunters, capable of instantly killing their prey from a distance by ripping …

The line ends there. But I know what the rest of that sentence would say: Soulrenders could instantly kill their prey from a distance by ripping out their souls.

My fingers tighten around the edges of the book. The Soulless was a soulrender. A lightwender.

Footsteps in the bedroom startle me from my thoughts. I stare at the door, stiff with expectation, but it doesn’t open.