Fallen Paladin (The Paladin's Curse Book 2)

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Fallen Paladin (The Paladin's Curse Book 2) Page 4

by Kristell Carnie


  Even better would be to push them all aside and drink myself silly with the Jalooniem sap which the fading presence of still aches in my veins. I hold down the internal shaking and swallow several times, stifling the unrelenting yearning and steeling myself for their reactions.

  “They heal me.”

  Ellestra glances at Calasis, her lips tugging into a triumphant smile.

  “I thought so.” She looks back at me, pointing to my chest. “I saw you healing on the castle floor after the attack. Calasis said I was crazy because you were still injured and he didn’t see what I did, but I knew there was some reason Mother rushed you away and kept you on lockdown ever since.”

  I feel myself shrug, not wanting to give away just how hurt I was to be secluded when I really could have done with their company, not trapped away like a monster.

  Ellestra’s musical voice continues, unravelling my secrets in such a frenzy she doesn’t notice my emotional turmoil.

  “But you still didn’t heal completely, that’s why you needed the Jalooniem right? If you were consumed with the magical entities of Nevithan, why then didn’t you heal properly from the lights? Are you sure it’s the lights that heal you?”

  Ellestra somehow always finds a way to cut through the tangled web of confusion with her effortless perception and get straight to the point of each situation. I know even if I don’t tell her the truth, she would find a way to uncover it herself anyway, maybe she should have been the one I confided in from the beginning.

  I lift my shirt, revealing my scar-free stomach while still concealing my ample breasts and watch the ranging emotions flicker across their faces.

  “The lights, or Nevithan I guess, do heal me – how else can you explain why I don’t have one single scar from my injuries?” I lower my shirt, goose-bumps flourishing across my skin at being so exposed. “They heal me, but I don’t think they are powerful enough to heal me entirely. Either that or they are being drained somehow.”

  “They heal you?” Calasis rolls the words across his tongue as if he doesn’t quite believe me.

  I sigh, slightly saddened by the fact that he can’t trust my word, and if he can’t trust me, I guess I’ll just have to prove it.

  “Zaneth, pass me a knife please.”

  He hesitates, unsure of what I plan to do and looks to Calasis who merely nods his acceptance, wanting to see what I want to show them – my safety is obviously not his primary concern.

  Zaneth reluctantly hands over a small dagger. It’s nothing elaborate, but still deadly sharp and more than capable of causing the minor wound I require.

  Without hesitating I press the blade against my palm, digging in far deeper than I anticipated, the pleasure of the pain no longer enough to keep me slicing myself open repeatedly.

  “Oh God,” Ellestra whispers and squeezes her eyes up tight.

  “Don’t look away.” My own eyes stay glued to my palm, watching as the lights emerge, easing out from the pink scar to flow down my wrist, tingling as they weave along, quickly building momentum until the skin all over my body glows with icy blue, celestial light.

  My simple, self-inflicted wound inches back together, healing completely once again until no trace is left except for a thin strip of blood. The wispy tingling sensation gently recedes, taking the lights with it.

  Zaneth lets out a string of curses, not even caring that Ellestra is within ear shot.

  “That was amazing!” Ellestra smiles, no longer sickened by what she has just witnessed, her angelic face alive with excitement.

  “Where are the Nevithan swords now?” Calasis jumps straight to the heart of the situation, not noticing my internal fight as the desire for Jalooniem springs back to life with my bizarre healing, only eager now to find the swords that potentially hold so much power.

  “I don’t know.” I’m so tired, tired of reliving and revealing my ordeal, tired of fighting against an unseen enemy that will stop at nothing to take me over, and most of all tired of me, of not being able to trust myself. Will I ever be able to again?

  “Blay took them when we returned to the castle. I haven’t seen them since.”

  Calasis puffs out his cheeks with air, before exhaling slowly, his shoulders squaring as he merges into the decisive leader that’s usually more his brother’s style.

  “Alright, well I think the first place we start is finding those swords. If they turn out to be nearly as powerful as we think they are, then leaving them unguarded is potentially very dangerous and stupid.”

  Zaneth nods, his tanned face reverting back to his usual emotionless state. “They certainly could be very beneficial for us in our fight. If they can promote healing in us as they do for Rayna, then we would finally have an advantage over the Zantronians.”

  “This could be the start of the end.” The old spark of excitement creeps back onto Calasis’s face as his pink lips twitch into a cunning smile making my stomach roll with the prickly uncertainty of fear.

  Suddenly revealing everything seems like an exceedingly stupid mistake. I want them all to be safe, my new friends and all the people residing on this beautiful planet, and now I have unwittingly handed them the very weapon that will make them run into a raging battle full of self-assurance and cockiness, stifling the once hounding fear which would usually make them wary, make them cautious.

  What have I done now?

  Chapter Five

  I walk with purpose, my head held high, muscles tense to stop the subtle tremble of my shoulders showing as I storm towards Karadese’s quarters. Zaneth walks slightly behind me, constantly watching over me, for my sake and others too I guess, and I’m grateful he came with me. If anyone has the chance to stop me from going rogue and ripping someone to shreds, then I’d bet money it would be Zaneth.

  Ellestra and Calasis parted ways with us moments ago when we, thankfully, left the plantation. Calasis, wholly intent on finding the swords, took Ellestra to search Blay’s room, wanting nothing more than to find the magical weapons and also, I believe, he doesn’t want to be around when his mother finds out what he helped me do. Can’t say I blame him, I’ve been on the wrong side of one of Queen Karadese’s lectures before and it certainly wasn’t a fun experience.

  The stone-faced guard standing watch at the queen’s library takes one look at my rigid-set face, his eyes quickly snapping to Zaneth, before pushing open the heavy wooden door and stepping aside for me to enter without a single question.

  I come to a sudden stop when I see her sitting at the desk, the usual air of power that surrounds her like a veil of impenetrable armour has completely vanished, leaving behind a shell of the woman who I’ve come to know.

  She doesn’t notice when I slowly walk further into the room, even though I’m certainly not quiet as I make my way towards her seemingly much smaller form. My eyes stay glued to her, unaffected by the sheer beauty of this room with its unobscured view of the magnificent, thunderous waterfall and thousands of books vying for attention, wanting to set their many adventures free. All I can see is Karadese’s struggle as a tale from her past plays on repeat, the memories clearly written on her sunken, ashen cheeks.

  Each tightening of her reddened lips brings back haunting memories of my own, and for an instant, I can feel her pain, her despair, agony which still threatens to bury me deep in my own mind rushing to the surface and sucking my lungs dry in the process. It’s pain that would consume me if I let it. It would be so easy to do, to just let go of the desire to right my wrongs and be devoured by misery. The ever-changing pieces inside of myself want nothing more than to revel in the pain that has been thrust upon me, but I refuse, I won’t let go, not now, not when I’m so close to getting what I need.

  “Karadese?” my voice lacks the anger which only moments ago propelled me with renewed determination through this enormous castle to yell abuse at the broken woman sitting before me.

  Her foggy memories fade instantly, once again being buried deep, hidden with practiced ease like many times befo
re; and with several blinks of long, curving, dark eyelashes, Karadese pulls herself up, her shoulders no longer collapsing in on themselves, reverting back to encompass the strength of the powerful woman I have admired all this time.

  “Rayna, what are you doing up?” She stands fluidly, effortless grace flowing in her movements as she comes to my side. “You should not be moving until your injuries have completely healed.”

  “They have,” I say simply, the fire in my belly no longer intent on causing her added pain.

  Her wheat coloured eyes narrow, her mind trying to unravel my unspoken meaning.

  “How? Was it the….” she doesn’t continue, waiting instead for me to fill in the blanks even as her eyes flicker to my neck, searching for the lights which have completely receded now that I am fully healed.

  “No, in fact it was a large dose of Jalooniem which finished off the healing process.”

  “Who gave you access to such quantities of Jalooniem?” She turns to glare at Zaneth who stands just inside the door, knowing full well that he would have had to be part of my rebellion since he refuses to leave me unguarded.

  “Don’t blame Zaneth, he had no part in my decision, nor could he stop me in any way.” I turn my back to him, shutting him down even before he has a chance to interject and rebut my comments. “The fact is, my accelerated healing was necessary – really it should have been implemented straight away after the attack.”

  “The Jalooniem is a powerful substance, it needs a delicate finesse to find the correct body ratio – it should not be consumed at a rate beyond our knowledge.”

  I raise my hand, stopping her from continuing down a path I’ve heard too many times before.

  “Your choice to heal me slowly was a mistake, one I rectified. It was my decision and mine alone. And now that I am fully healed, I’m ready to go back to Zantron.”

  She shakes her head, determination to refuse me burning behind her striking eyes. Her waist-length, jet black hair falls across her shoulders, framing her face in a halo of beauty, yet her exquisiteness can’t hide her inbuilt power which emits naturally from her like a shield of defiance.

  I once found myself yearning to be in her presence, to feel the safety she provides by just being near. Now I feel her anguish mixed in with unwavering strength, spinning around like a tornado. She is as unstable as I am now – a terrifying thought all on its own, and a lethal concoction clashing up against my craziness.

  “Absolutely not. You will do no such thing, Rayna.” She holds my gaze, expecting me to back down like a good little servant. But what I lack in her beauty I certainly make up for in defiance, that’s for sure, and she’s about to find out just how far I will push to get what I want.

  “I’m not here for your approval, Karadese.” I harden my gaze, all feelings of sadness for the woman dissipating as she threatens to ruin my plans.

  “I am merely giving you the courtesy of knowing what I’m going to do and I was hoping you would supply me with the planet jump potion that I need, but if you refuse I’m sure I will find another way to get to Zantron all on my own.” I can’t help but glance at Zaneth, hoping he might give me what I need and already knowing that he will never help me on this mission. Oh well, there’s always Calasis, I’m sure he won’t have any problems getting me what I require.

  Karadese stands rigid, her thin hand resting against the sofa as her racing mind processes everything that’s been said. The pain of worrying over Blay’s fate must be getting to her as the usual mask of control slips from her contoured face, revealing just how tired and distressed she actually is.

  My heart tugs knowing that I am causing her more unnecessary anguish, even after everything she has done for me. I want to back down, to simply give in to her demands and alleviate her growing fear, yet a stronger part of me holds on, keeping still as I feel her beginning to cave.

  “There is no point rushing into a fight that you are unequivocally unprepared for,” her voice holds little conviction knowing she is going to lose this battle.

  “I’m more prepared than you will ever know.” I step forward, no longer cowering away from physical contact as I rest my hand on her lithe arm.

  “I need to do this Karadese, please don’t stand in my way.”

  Her head tilts to the side, her hair flowing across her shoulder, resembling the ever-flowing waterfall outside, and a soft smile warms her face chasing away the shadows.

  “Not long ago I told you that you hold a great inner strength, Rayna. It’s a pity you choose to use that resolution against me.” Her eyes flicker closed as she draws in a deep breath and for a moment I honestly don’t know what she’s going to do, half of me expects her to order the guards to lock me away again. I certainly hope that’s not the case as I don’t want to go down fighting the wrong fight.

  Slowly she opens her eyes and I see my answer written so clearly in their golden depths, and for the first time I allow her to pull me against her chest in a long embrace.

  “My determined little paladin,” she whispers.

  Karadese releases me slowly, having to force herself to let go and I step back, squashing the desire to run back into her arms and hide in her safety. Turning to Zaneth I swallow the butterflies trying to escape the torrent of escalating fear in my cramping stomach, allowing only my determination to shine through.

  “Let’s do this.”

  ***

  “We have no way of knowing where they are keeping him.” Karadese stands in the centre of the Hiding Chambers, her demeanour returned to a level of authority which seems to be the only thing holding her together, the new-found purpose giving her hope and only now do I realise why all hope had been shattered before now.

  “Contrary to what you believe, Rayna, we haven’t been standing around idly making plans without following through. Since Blay’s kidnapping, we have made three rescue attempts, sending over two dozen of our finest warriors on each raid and failing to find even the slightest clue as to Blay’s whereabouts.”

  Karadese nods to Zaneth and I stand back, already knowing the drill. The slight scratching of twisting stone emits from beneath us, sending involuntary shivers down my spine, as a centre ring in the floor begins to draw back, revealing the elaborately engraved stone pillar of the Eidolon Eye, which twists into position with a mechanical clunk.

  The unassuming milky liquid filling the bowl remains motionless throughout the process, only the droplets of Karadese’s blood, which spill from the open slit she’s cleanly sliced through her palm with a silver dagger, cause the liquid to ripple as they fall into its cloudy depths.

  “Even with the advantage of the Zantronians no longer having any forewarning of our impending attacks, they are still constantly on high alert.”

  I look to Zaneth, surprised that Karadese is speaking so freely in front of him. Perhaps after she whispered her long-kept secret of Blay’s paternity to me (as she conveniently drugged me into comatose state), she revealed the truth to the rest of them? But then again, that doesn’t feel right.

  Calasis and Ellestra hadn’t once mentioned the life altering truth about their half sibling, they seemed completely oblivious to the truth, something I doubt Ellestra would have been able to stay silenced.

  Karadese had definitely seemed worried when I blurted out my theories as to why Blay shouldn’t endanger himself, or the other Prytorian warriors, by running into battle against the Zantronians when they can sense their own kind. She appeared terrified that I would inadvertently reveal the truth to all, and she shut me down. Why then, would she now make such a flippant comment in front of Zaneth? Unless, of course, he already knows?

  I eye him suspiciously, trying to read the situation without having to delve into questioning him. Zaneth stands stoic, his expressionless face not giving anything away. Damn it, I’ll have to discreetly figure this out, I know Zaneth won’t tell me anything by accident.

  “Zantron may not be a large planet, yet it is impossibly creviced with many obscured hiding points.
To scour the entire planet would take weeks and is wholly impractical whilst being attacked and defending our warriors.”

  We all go silent as the room fills with misty fog, distorting my vision until all I can see are the hardened faces of Karadese and Zaneth. With a final drop of blood from Karadese’s fleshy palm, the fog retreats, slowly twirling above us in a mini vortex, until it reveals a shadowy pattern of black rock with a familiar shape at the centre.

  The air pulls from my lungs as my eyes blink him into existence through the churning fog. Blay. He is there, right in front of me, so close that if I reach out my trembling hand I could touch him. Only it’s not him, it’s merely the visual manifestation of him, brought to us by the connection of Karadese’s bloodline and a magical portal that is meant to provide comfort of seeing her loved one, and yet only causes my heart to shatter as I watch the pain of his struggle to survive clearly written over his beaten and bloody body.

  “This is all I see every time I try to summon his whereabouts.” Karadese dabs at her cut with a clean handkerchief, smearing the blood across her pale skin to reveal several healing wounds, evidence of her many failed attempts to find Blay.

  “He could be in any cave, at any site on Zantron.” Zaneth stands opposite Karadese, his dark brown eyes sharp, watching for any little detail which might give a hint of a clue. “There are no visible landmarks that can pinpoint his location. All we do know is that he is not being held at their main base, the place where we found you. They have hidden him securely and without the information we need, we are going in blind.”

  Zaneth’s words barely reach me as I stare at Blay’s charcoal stained face. Each shallow breath, taken through his dry, cracked lips, causes him obvious pain, even in his semi resting state. His hands are shackled to a rocky wall high above his head, leaving his body to drape across the protruding, pitted, stony wall of the cave he’s imprisoned in. There is not much left of his clothing, the cotton, shredded from multiple lashes, clings to the dried blood across his torso, barely concealing the open wounds which line his body.

 

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