“What is it?” I whisper but am silenced with a violent shake of his head.
I count my heartbeats, thundering inside my chest as I wait for whatever Zaneth sensed to become a reality. After sixty-two feverish beats, he pulls back, allowing me to move just enough so I’m no longer a human kebab.
He cocks his ear to the wind and I listen just as intently; my eyes glued to his face, waiting for some sign as to what he has sensed. With each tightening of his eyes, his lips form into a thin line, not giving anything away and my patience quickly wanes.
When his hand creeps towards his sword, I mirror his actions, not knowing what to expect, but if Zaneth thinks a weapon is necessary right now, it can’t be good.
Emerging slowly from our hidden crevice, I look towards our travelled path, expecting to see the fighters bearing down on us. All I see is nothing more than what we have just travelled through, a winding path through sharpened rock, that is now more visible with the rising sun.
My eyebrows bunch together in frustration. I really don’t need Zaneth jumping to conclusions and scaring me half to death, doesn’t he know I’m not exactly the most stable of people?
I’m about to open my mouth and give him an earful when I hear the sound of rocks clattering across the ground, at the same time Zaneth raises a finger to his mouth while pointing his sword in the direction we were heading.
Someone is there, in front of us. We can’t see them yet, not around the snaking path which is still semi bathed in darkness. The only good part is that they haven’t seen us and with Zaneth’s stealth skills, hopefully they haven’t heard our approach either.
A final glance behind us eases a wisp of tension when we see no sign of any Zantronian fighters. Zaneth makes the first move, inching forward, his weight resting on the balls of his feet, making not a single noise as he advances.
I mimic his movements, albeit nowhere near as gracefully, but I still manage to remain silent, my eyes straining to make out monsters from shadows lurking in front of us.
Our progress is slow and tense, picking our way around each corner with deliberate precision. Being on high alert, not knowing what is going to jump out at us behind every twist in the path, leaves my already highly-strung nerves pulled so tight I might just burst from the pressure.
Sweat drips down my neck, pooling with the charcoal dust which lines my skin, making me itch, it’s all I can do not to rip my skin apart to relieve the aggravation. I’m sure Zaneth wouldn’t be sympathetic if I gave away our advantage simply because I couldn’t contain my fleeting urges.
The scuttling of loose rock on the ground grows louder and soon a familiar sound fills my ears, chilling my soul entirely.
The rhythmic whoosh of air being forced up trunk-like throats and whistling out between razor-sharp, triangular teeth, fills the space not too far in front of us. As we sneak closer another, perhaps even more terrifying sound joins in the morning air, terrifying simply because of what it signifies.
Happiness is not something I’ve witnessed in the Zantronians presence much, in fact, normally it’s only anger and hate which emits from their souls, but when the fleeting emotion does happen to consume them, their chests quiver with a rumbling purr, which now, unfortunately, wafts through the humid air, breaking the last remnants of silence and rolls my stomach with fear.
If there are Zantronian fighters in front of us, blocking our path, and they are happy, that doesn’t bode well for us.
We can’t go back. We can’t go forward. We are trapped. We are screwed.
Chapter Sixteen
“What do you think?” I whisper in between chewing on a broken thumbnail.
Zaneth’s eyes narrow, sweeping across the scene below us, the muscle in his jaw pulsating in a show of contemplation.
With no other choice, we had scaled the cliff-face to gain a vantage point, carefully climbing the rocks until our hands bled and we were eventually high enough to allow an unobscured view of what lay below.
Using the last of the dwindling dawns shadow, we huddle back against the pitted rock, which provides an almost canopy-like covering to shield us from the view of our enemies.
“There are eight fighters. None appear to be injured.”
My heart sinks. Eight fighters. Eight healthy, uninjured fighters, who stand in the path between us and Calasis’s group.
We can’t go back, if we do we will run into the group who have been tracking us for so long. We can’t go forward, there’s no way that Zaneth and I alone can take on eight Zantronian fighters and live.
There’s only one option and I’m not ready to succumb to that retreat just yet.
I scan the cliffs around us, getting increasingly disheartened when all I see is more jagged walls of broken rock as sharp as shattered glass. The way the fast-rising sun’s light reflects off its surface reminds me of volcanic obsidian, taking a wrong step would prove fatal. But right now, I see no other option.
“So we keep climbing. We’ve made it this far, if we are careful we can get past that group and make it down the other side.”
Zaneth barely registers my despondent tone. If I can’t even convince myself, how am I supposed to convince him?
“Rayna,” Zaneth begins, but I stop him before he can say the words which will destroy my heart.
“No, Zaneth, I’m not leaving, not yet. We’ve gotten so far, I won’t give up now.”
He shoots me an irritated glare and for a moment I feel like a child about to be grounded.
“Listen carefully.” He glances back down to the clearing below us. “What do you see down there?”
His change of direction confuses me and for a moment I forget my fear. Fully trusting his instincts, I lean forward, dangerously close to the edge, just to catch a glimpse of what has roused his interest.
At first, I see nothing more than what Zaneth has already described. Eight deadly imposing Zantronian fighters, ready to rip us to shreds the moment we stuff up and announce that we are here.
It’s hard to look beyond their intimidating structures and the death that surrounds them like an evil aura, but Zaneth has seen something that I haven’t picked up on yet, and if he thinks it’s important enough to not even suggest our retreat, then it’s crucial that I find out what it is.
The path that we had spent hours trailing has opened up, widening into a semi clearing. Each side is still lined by the same blackened cliffs which we perch upon, before once again narrowing and continuing to stretch on for as long as the eye can see.
There is nothing but broken shards of rock inside this deep gully. Gritty dust wafts up from the earth with each heavy step that the creatures take as they create a semi-circle in front of the opposite cliff, their backs, thankfully, to us, so they don’t see me hanging precariously out above them.
I glance back at Zaneth, my frustrated expression enough to hint at what’s bugging him.
“Why are they all standing like that, facing the cliff rather than guarding either end of the path?”
I look back again, straining to see what has the creatures so intrigued. At first I see nothing. Just rocks upon rocks. And all this does is further convince me that these creatures are absolutely crazy. But slowly, with the rising sun, the light changes angle, casting down into the cavern to bounce off the walls and suddenly I see it.
“There’s a cave,” I whisper.
Zaneth nods. His mind already in full swing planning mode.
“And if those fighters are so intent on what’s inside that cave instead of hearing the herd of elephant-like commotion that you create, then I’m betting it’s the same thing we are after.”
“Blay.” My heart begins to thud with renewed power.
Blay. Blay could be down there, squirrelled away in that cave while the fighters stay glued to the outside.
“More likely Calasis.” Zaneth wipes the sweat trailing down his shaved head. “See the way the fighters are lining up, it’s a trap formation. Whatever is in there, they want out. If it was Bl
ay then they would be faced towards the attack points, on guard to defend, not ready to attack what’s inside.”
My shoulders slump and I take a deep breath, trying to dispel the disappointment. Calasis and his group could be down there, that’s better than nothing, and right now I have to take what I can get. Wins are few and far between lately.
“So, what do we do?”
“Whoever is inside won’t be able to hold the fighters off for long. I believe the only reason they haven’t forced their way inside already is simply because that cave system is too small, they won’t be able to fit in. That’s an advantage for our warriors but it won’t last long. The Zantronians will change form if need be, and that’s something we can’t allow to happen. If they do and they get in to Calasis, then any advantage we have is completely lost.”
Zaneth looks at me, holding my gaze intently as if he’s assessing my mental state for cracks that will ultimately put us both in danger.
“Rayna, if we go down there, then the fight will be extreme. I will protect you at all costs, I promise you that, but there is no way to predict the outcome. Are you willing to go through with this?”
There was a time, not that long ago, that I would have fled. I would have used my fear, my eternal self-preservation as an excuse to run away, to save myself and allow the others to perish in my place.
Now when I see what lays before me, I don’t see only myself. What fills my mind is Ellestra. I hear her laughter as she knocks me on my arse yet again. I feel Calasis’s warmth as his charismatic charm wins me over, much the same way his arms feel when he pulls me close to hug me tightly, the way a good friend would. I sense Karadese’s pain, a pain that I too have suffered, only hers is greater on so many levels. I see the growing attraction between my mother and Zaneth, a person who repeatedly risks his life for me without even so much as a thank you.
And most importantly I see Blay. I see the intoxicating depth of his amber eyes, glittering like citrine in the sun’s rays, the way they follow me around the room as if I am the only person in existence. I feel his strength surrounding me, lifting me up and placing me on a pedestal I don’t possibly deserve. I feel his soul cracking open my hollowed heart, letting it heal, letting it grow.
These people mean so much to me and I know that no matter what this planet and its inhabitants throw my way, I’ll take it on, and I will do it all for the people I love.
I don’t bother explaining my choice to Zaneth, he can clearly see the determination on my face and he matches it with his own.
Gingerly we descend the cliff the same way we went up. The rocks slice my hands just as effectively but by the time my feet hit the ground with a quiet thud, my flesh has knitted back together, relieving me of pain and leaving only sticky blood as evidence. Zaneth isn’t as lucky.
He rips a couple of pieces of cloth from his top, wrapping them tightly around each palm, before checking his grip on his sword. The cuts don’t bother him, he’s had worse no doubt, but the slickness of the blood could prove detrimental and that’s not something we need going into battle.
I pat myself down, checking that I still have my weapons, pulling each dagger free to ensure they are easily accessible, the action reassuring me slightly, yet not enough to stop the tremble in my hands.
Zaneth scans the path behind us and when he sees no sign of our pursuers he nods, his face a mask of seriousness.
“Move fast and clean. We will only have a fraction of a moments advantage and then they will be on us.”
“How far back do you think the others are?”
“You tell me.”
He knows I’ve got some weird connection to them, yet he doesn’t know just how dangerous it is and now is not the time to tell him. I’m not willing to access it again, doing so would be detrimental, I might as well tie bells to my ankles and carry a flashing neon light to announce my arrival.
Since trying to connect with Garvien, I’ve squashed my senses down, desperately trying to sever it so I don’t give in to the beckoning fullness it created inside of me. And now, after being here, surrounded by their energies for so long, I can’t tell if cutting that tie has in fact worked or if I’ve been so inundated with sensing their presence that I have now become numb to their souls.
If that’s the case, I’m hoping that they too can’t feel me any more than they can feel each other, that way I can blend in with the crowd.
It’s a lot of ‘ifs’ and ‘maybes’, holding out hope for something I have no clear understanding of, but what else can I do? I’ve run out of options.
Zaneth makes the first move, each step quiet and deliberate, while keeping close to the cliff to use the last of the fading shadows to create coverage. I match his movements, crouched as low as possible, keeping Blay’s sword gripped tightly in my hand, ready and willing to use it when the time comes.
We must be close by now. Around the next corner we will come face to face with death. Something that is becoming all too frequent in my life.
Zaneth stills and I nearly plough right into his back. He doesn’t even bother glancing at me, his full attention on our next move.
My eyes close and I use the sparse moment to send a prayer up to whichever God is willing to hear it, to take pity on my pounding heart and to guide me in what comes next.
I feel Zaneth move and by the time my eyes snap open he is up and running, emerging from the last of our secluded protection and straight into the clearing, still not making a sound.
I have no time to overthink my next step, no chance to back out. My body moves on its own, springing to life and acting on instinct.
I charge after Zaneth, less graceful and certainly noisier, running at full speed into the clearing and straight towards the closest Zantronian in the group.
Before he has a chance to realise what is happening, I thrust my sword into his back, his pallid skin splitting open as I use my momentum to sink the blade cleanly into his heart.
I don’t even have time to pull the sword free before he erupts into a fiery ball of flames, leaving his remains to explode into a puff of dust, releasing my weapon and filling my lungs with his gritty remains.
I swing around, raising the sword ready to defend myself against the fighters who slowly turn, their beady eyes widening as they see Zaneth eliminating not one, but two fighters in the same lethal blow.
Not expecting the ambush, they are slow to react, but it only takes them seconds to catch on once they see Zaneth remove the head of another fighter with a single blow, and they scramble together, abandoning their attack on the inhabitants of the cave, turning their rage on us.
We may have culled the numbers by four, but that still leaves us four angry, deadly Zantronians who are now set on destroying us, no matter what it takes.
Two beefy sadists set their sights on Zaneth, charging forward like a tortured bull in a bull fight, a screeching battle cry spitting from their colourless, thin lips. That leaves the remaining two for me, which hardly seems fair.
They take their time advancing towards me, splitting up aiming to block any chances of me escaping down either path.
Their tactic is clever and certainly something I want to avoid. I can’t fight off one behind me if I’m busy protecting myself from the one in front. However impossible the odds of me winning are, it’s certainly worse if I can’t see them both at the same time.
Stepping back, I turn slightly, keeping Zaneth behind me, knowing that he will not allow his attackers to get past him, no matter what.
I feel puny against these giants towering above me, having to tilt my head back just to see up to their mangled faces, and while I should be filled with fear, strangely I am not.
My heart begins to slow, each beat honing my attention, every fighting manoeuvre, which has been drummed into me over these last few days, becoming clear, a precise plan which has filtered into instinct.
I match their shuffling feet, keeping a set distance between us, waiting for the right moment to make my move, and hone
stly just trying to buy time until Zaneth has killed his two before he can come and help me with mine.
As if reading my mind, the creatures pull back their lips, revealing vomit inducing teeth as they emit an animalistic growl, sending spit flying my way.
“You need to be put down,” I growl, their vulgar insolence enough to force me into action.
I dart forward, swinging the sword in front of me in a full swoop, using the creatures slowness to my advantage as I slice my blade across his arm, blood squirting free as I pull back, taking my position just out of their reach once again.
I keep myself low, my weight resting on the heels of my feet as I lean forward, my elbows bent and close to my body as I’ve been taught, aiming my blade at the nearest fighter’s throat.
Each sound ringing out around me becomes clearer, heavy with detail. I can hear Zaneth’s deep, heavy breaths, each one controlled, almost relaxed, as he battles behind me. The guttural noises which emit from my attackers contain no such control. They are angry, the one I attacked even more so.
He lunges forward, his weapon sailing through the air with brutal precision. I only just manage to duck back, the tip of the sword missing my jaw by mere millimetres. I retaliate quickly, while the force of his attack is still moving, leaving him unguarded. Using the momentum of his weight, I swing my sword back around, sliding it against the back of his forearm with enough force to slice through those bulky muscles until I hit bone.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the other fighter advance, his hands free of weapons, he is intent on tearing me apart with his poisonous talons.
Before I know what I’m doing, I’ve pulled a dagger from the sheath latched onto my thigh, the hilt warming my palm for a second before I send it flying straight towards the approaching fighter. He doesn’t have time to react, the blade impales into his stomach, not enough to kill him, but at least it’s stopped him in his place.
A piercing scream rips from his thickened throat, not one of pain, as a dagger that size probably only aggravated him more than anything. No, this scream is something else entirely. Something far worse.
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