The noise echoes through the cavern, vibrating down the path, towards any and every creature within hearing distance. He is calling for back up. We are utterly buggered now.
And then I hear something else, something that takes me by surprise and I stupidly lose my concentration, turning to look towards the small opening in the cliff-face, searching for the people who are now calling out to us.
I know that voice, as surely as I know my own, except I’ve never heard it sound so strained, a mixture of hope embedded with fear and pain which works to taint Calasis’s smooth allure and quickens my heart. He is here, in the cave, trapped and soon to be lunch if Zaneth and I fail.
I can’t help but scan the caves entrance, hoping to see Calasis, wanting him to be alright, not only for him but for us too. We could use the extra hands to help fight off these creatures, especially now with more no-doubt on the way.
The creatures use the fleeting distraction against me. They both rush forward at once, their feet denting the earth as they charge. I glance back just in time to see the sun glint off the sword plunging towards my undefended torso.
I react instantly, lifting my own sword to block the blow, but it’s not enough. The sword hits mine, the blade deflecting slightly. Instead of slicing across my throat as intended, the heavy blade is forced into my shoulder, carving through the armour and slicing open my flesh before it comes to a vibrating stop as it embeds into my collarbone, shattering it on impact.
My scream fills the clearing, vibrating all around me, a song of evidence that the Zantronians are about to win. Lights flash before my eyes, explosions of pinks and blues mixed with red and black; a carousel of colours whirling through my head and I struggle to make sense of it all, to weave my way through the technicolour’s to understand the agonising pain burning into me.
I do the only thing that I can, I latch onto the pain, it’s the one thing I can connect to, the only thing that makes sense and I use it as a guide back to me, back to my morphing reality.
I’m hurt, and bad. My bones crunch under the weight of the sword still embedded in my shoulder. Blood drips down my chest, sticky and warm, the metallic scent of it making my stomach roll and worse yet, making my attacker’s eyes grow wide with yearning.
Blinking away the last of the fogginess, I find myself staring up at the creatures who stand there, looking down on me, the one who now pulls his blade free from my flesh with very little effort, smiles – if that’s what you can call it. He’s ready to end me, his excitement evident as grey drool drips from his lips, a swollen tongue darting out to lick it back up.
The other one tilts his head, his eyes darting from my face to my arm, his expression harrowed, almost panicked as rasping words rush from his mouth.
I don’t understand what he’s saying and quite frankly I don’t care. All I can make out above my thundering heartbeat pounding in my ears is Zaneth screaming my name, cursing the fighters who keep advancing, stopping him from getting to me. It’s his job, after all, one that is ending badly. Not that I blame Zaneth for any of this, I certainly haven’t made things easy for him, right from the beginning.
My body begins to shiver, cold seeping through my veins as shock invades my mind, trying to distance myself from what’s about to happen.
My attacker steps closer, ignoring his companion’s gibberish urgent demands, his sights set directly on me. I’m his prize, one that will be worth the injuries he’s sustained.
It takes all my strength to remain standing, to not wither under the weight of his desire. I hold onto the pain, using it as a clutch to hold me together when all I really want to do is sit down, hide away in the corner and allow my body to give in. But I refuse to give this monster the satisfaction of seeing me cowering away. I will never concede to his kind, no matter what they do to me, I have enough hate trapped inside my soul to give me the courage I need to make it through and I will use it whichever way I can.
The desire to kill one of these monsters has never felt so strong. I want to do to him the same as he wants to do to me, only I want him to suffer in a way that none of them have ever felt before, to make them feel the pain of all their victims at once.
The viciousness swirling in my blood gives me all the strength I need to stand tall, my head raised in defiance, my eyes locked on his, and I smile, a huge happy smile that probably comes across as bat shit crazy, which in all reality is exactly what I am right now.
The creature hesitates, my demeanour at odds to what his usual prey exhibits, and then suddenly I create a whole new level of surprise as the Nevithan markings light up my skin, seeping along to heal which is broken, his waxen eyes widen and for a flicker of a second indecision fills his brutal face.
He shakes his head, sending drool flying from his lips like a mangy dog. He doesn’t understand what is happening as I stand there, grinning like an idiot, even though I know that the lights can’t heal me fast enough to save my life, them just being there gives me the strength I need to make it through these next moments, like an old friend with me on my deathbed.
I won’t whimper or plead for my life. I refuse to beg to this creature who I still unwillingly feel the tiniest of connections to. My eyes never leave his as he raises his sword, the sun hitting the metal, sending a prism of light onto my face, one last shimmer of beauty before it’s all gone.
It’s over. I’m done.
Chapter Seventeen
It’s a funny thing knowing you’re about to die. People always say that your life flashes before your eyes. That you get to relive all your best memories and are filled with a sense of love, and suddenly everything makes sense, every moment is crystal clear.
That didn’t happen for me. I didn’t get a flash of happiness. I didn’t see the faces of those I love. Nothing miraculous took control to offer me a sliver of joy before my ending.
I stand there alone, my sword raised in my less dominant hand, my heart pounding like a thousand wild horses running free, trying not to let the fear crush me before the Zantronian fighter does.
My human form is weak and I grow unsteady with the blood loss and excruciating pain. I don’t have the time or the strength to summon the bracelet’s curse, to allow it to take control and give me a fighting chance against the creature who now swings his sword with his full strength towards my head.
The weapon-less fighter’s scrambled words grow more frantic. His wide eyes fill with fear like I’ve never seen their kind portray before.
I brace for impact, holding my sword unsteadily in front of me, not willing to die without fighting the entire way.
As the sword arch’s down, speeding towards me, the unarmed fighter leaps forward, throwing his body in front of mine, wrapping his arms around me while tucking my head against his chest in one quick, unexpected moment.
I feel the impact of the sword hitting his back, delving into flesh to the point where the tip of the blade protrudes out of his chest, millimetres from piercing me too. His entire body jerks forward and he instinctively holds me tighter before he releases a guttural scream.
The mortal wound was meant for me. The blade was supposed to be embedded in my flesh. The death cry ricocheting around the cavern was meant to be ripping from my throat, and yet I stand here, still wrapped in this creature’s arms, his body convulsing against me and I have absolutely no idea why I’m still alive, why he ultimately sacrificed himself for me.
The attacker pulls his sword free, his own scream entwining with his companion’s pain and I know without needing explanation, that they can both feel my saviour dying. The Hive mentality, which I had briefly connected into, will feel the absence of this one, and even though the emotional pain won’t last long, it’s still there now, it still hurts.
The grip of his trunk-like arms lessens, yet he doesn’t release me as he falls clumsily to his knees. Even if I wasn’t wounded and too weak to move, I wouldn’t pull away from him, not now, as he stares up at me, his kneeling height nearly matching my own.
I me
t his gaze, for the first time looking passed the translucent skin and mangled features of a monster, seeing him, this creature who is perishing because of me, to save me. But why, I still don’t know.
His monstrous hand slips down my arm until his palm rests against the bracelet and when he bows his head, all uncertainties vanish.
Before I can contemplate what he is doing, he raises my arm high above my head for the creatures behind us to see, so that they will all know why he sacrificed himself, and with the last of his strength he looks at me one last time, his pale lips trembling as he forms words foreign to his mouth yet impossible to ignore.
“My Queen.”
“No!” I instinctively reach out, trying to stop what I know is about to happen, something buried deep inside of me shattering as my hand is left holding nothing but fire, air and dust.
He died for me. For his Hive connection. Because of his inbuilt loyalty to something that I created by a chain reaction. I can feel the echo of his death eating a hole inside my heart, the pain is so real, even with how disconnected I am to them, I am still overcome with grief.
A scream rips from my throat, pain and sorrow filling my mind with enough hatred to consume me.
It doesn’t make sense, any of it, but I don’t fight it, I don’t even want to. I let it fill me up, to warm the icy clutch on my heart and it feels so good. The rage feels right. It gives me something to hang on to, the strength I need to ignore the pain eating away at my body and focus on one thing only.
The creature who caused this pain to begin with. The one who now stands there, his own face twisted in an agony that mirrors my own, yet his pain is self-inflicted. He brought this pain upon himself. He killed his own kind. He killed one of us. And now he must pay.
The talons rip free from my fingertips as my sword falls to the dust below. I do not need it now; the steel blade is feeble compared to the weapon I’ve become. I’m all I’ll ever need against my foe.
I spring forth, a crazy girl with blue veins lightening her skin, devil claws and an appetite for death. The creature I’ve set my sights on stumbles back. Genuine fear hides in his pale eyes, his hands raised in surrender which I happily ignore.
I know what he is feeling without even hearing the alien words pouring from his thin lips. His attempts to convince me of his innocence mean nothing to me. He was all too willing to kill me before, when he didn’t know of my importance. Now that it has been revealed that I wear the bracelet, he retreats, my transformation emerging quickly, overpowering him like an Alpha to those beneath him.
Intuitively, I sense the change in the two fighters who faced Zaneth, their horror spills into my psyche and works to build my fury.
The creature before me knows his fate, he cannot possibly be allowed to survive after he has acted against me. He has wounded his superior, his queen, and he will be punished for it. Mortally so.
My eyes lock with his as I rake my talons from his groin to his throat, his insides spilling out to stain the ground that still holds my saviours remains. With the final moment of his existence, he bows his head, the last act of loyalty he can give in an effort to not curse his soul for all of eternity. Too late for him. He is cursed. We all are.
“Rayna!”
My head whips around to see Calasis huddling just inside the entrance to the cave. His eyes are wide with shock when he sees me in all my hideous glory, surrounded by the remains of my kill.
When Zaneth delivers fatal blows to the retreating creatures, the pain of both their deaths billows around my body. My soul aching for beings that are neither my family nor strangers. Part of me, but not.
The magic of the Nevithan swirls across my skin far brighter than ever before, desperately trying to heal me and to tame the wild beast which threatens to take over my mind so completely.
Part of me wants to be healed. To return to me. But a bigger part, a stronger part, wants nothing more than to stay as I am. To retain this new-found strength. To revel in the incredible power I have at my fingertips. To control others just by letting go and giving in to the persuasive pull that has yearned to take over ever since I placed the bracelet onto my wrist.
It could be so easy. The hatred inside of me subdues the pain which always lurks inside of my heart. It takes away the memories which hound me, of my father’s death, of my mother’s betrayal, of my guilt in Blay’s torture. All of it is minimised, gone somewhere else, so I no longer have to struggle with the pain, and in its absence, is power. Pure power over everyone and everything.
All except one. My King.
Veridom’s soul calls to me. His heart beats in time with my own, pulling mine to him like I’ve been speared through the chest and am unable to escape. He is mine and I am his.
Garvien’s power is fading, his panic of the loss is reaching hysteria, I feel it in my bones, he is losing. The pain I wanted him to feel is slowly creeping through, shredding his determination to get back what he has lost, but it doesn’t matter now, not to me and not to the others. There is only one other who wears the cursed band as I do. He is my king. I am his queen. It’s the way it is meant to be.
The knowledge flows over me and it all makes sense. The inner knowledge of the Hive fills my mind, clicking everything into place. The bracelet which I took is far more important than I had ever dreamed. It links me to them all, yet it is so much more than that. It gives power to the wearer, power to control the others, power to reign over them.
Only the strong can wield it, survive the curse that so many before me have crumbled beneath. And now it’s mine.
My eyes slam closed, the intoxicating power surging through me, morphing me deeper into a being which barely resembles me.
I can sense the others coming, charging towards me, eager to find their new leader, feverish to defend me against those who once were my allies.
“I’m sorry, Rayna.”
My eyes flick open just a second too late, giving me no time to react against the blood-soaked mallet speeding towards my head, hitting me with enough force to take me down.
I barely notice falling to the ground in a useless heap. The anger that simmers inside my chest, as I start to drift off into the darkness, upon seeing Zaneth’s silhouette leaning down to scoop me up into his arms, does nothing to stop my mind from plunging into a world of pitch blackness.
***
So many lay before me, weeping at my feet with their dying breaths. Glassy eyes of the dead watch me advance, ascending the marble steps, traipsing over the fallen who refused to flee, preferring to die fighting a losing battle with the last of their hope, only to have it ripped from their chests along with their hearts which now line my bloodied path.
What is left of me is no different to them. I am as dead as they are. I may breathe the smoke laced air into lungs which release cackling laughter at the carnage surrounding me. A heart does beat inside my chest, yet it is blackened, hollow to joy beyond that of those who suffer at my hands.
There is no love or happiness in this new world. A world of my own doing. All that is left is pain, suffering and power.
My power.
And that’s all I need.
“Rayna.”
A soft voice calls to me, the whisper of the word floats across the sea of bodies, the gentleness of it surprising when all that surrounds me is hatred.
“Rayna, don’t go.”
Pinpricks of fear shiver across my translucent skin making anger boil within me.
How dare someone speak to me with such a common tongue.
“Please come back.”
The fear multiplies, growing in strength to a point I can’t ignore, yet it is not my own, it belongs to someone else, someone who loves me, who needs me to escape this hell.
My colourless eyes search the bodies littering the ground, their faces stained with so much blood it’s nearly impossible to tell them apart.
“Rayna……...”
I spin around, the voice so clear I expect to see someone standing there, reaching ou
t to me, but there is nothing.
My deadened heart tightens and suddenly I’m running, going as fast as I can towards the whisper which still clings to the wind, searching for something that vanished long ago.
Everything around me falls away, the bodies dissipate, the earth beneath my feet grows harder, crumbling to blackened dust as I push on, desperate to find the voice.
A foggy mist settles over the land, creeping forward to coat everything in its path like an evil veil of cover, concealing all from my sight.
“Rayna………”
I spin around and around, the fog growing thicker until I feel buried beneath it, suffocating in a claustrophobic nightmare as the mist fills my lungs, entering my body to hide me too.
“Please……”
The voice is so clear, so close that I shut my eyes and follow it, allowing the fear to guide me on, using the magnetic pull of the person-less voice to draw me in.
The cool moistness of the fog begins to fade as the voice grows stronger, my hope surging as the veil thins, my eyes snapping open to see a cavern surrounded by boulders far taller than me.
I run again, not feeling the slicing of my flesh as I brush up against the narrowing path, only holding onto the sensation of something I had long ago given up on starting to bud once again inside my heart, chasing away the rage which buried itself in there without any fight from me.
“Rayna……...help me.”
It’s close now and I don’t slow down, not now, not ever.
I turn one last corner only to come to a sudden stop. There is nothing there, a flat, glassy wall of rock blocking my path. My heart plummets. There is nothing for me here. There never was.
“Rayna.”
My stomach tightens, the hairs on my neck standing on end and I turn, my whole world crushing with a single image.
“You’re too late, Rayna.” Garvien smiles, his hand held up high for me to see the recently severed head of his son.
Fallen Paladin (The Paladin's Curse Book 2) Page 14