Fallen Paladin (The Paladin's Curse Book 2)

by Kristell Carnie

  I can hear his mind, feel his thoughts as I’m once again sucked into the Hive. He will not hurt me, not only is it against Garvien’s wishes, but I am now his future queen; he would rather die than lay a hand against me. It’s his wish, one I intend to grant.

  Disbelief at my actions swells in my chest as I lift my sword high above my head, his last emotions leeching into me as I slam the blade down with all of my might directly into his heart, slicing the beating organ clean in half.

  “Rayna!”

  I look up, following the voice that gives me hope.

  Zaneth stands at the edge of the cavern, flanked by Kozhan, their faces warped with fear and disbelief as they watch me twisting the sword deeper into my enemy’s chest, unwilling to stop until I know he’s finished.

  The guard writhes between my legs, gurgling and shuddering, blood spilling from his mouth as death finally claims him. His dusty remains scatter into the air, leaving me perched on the ground.

  “Rayna, can you hear me?” Zaneth takes a step further into the cave, leaving the tunnel and revealing Araton leaning over Blay, slapping him softly across the face, struggling to rouse him.

  For just a moment I actually believe everything is going to be alright. Zaneth, Araton and Kozhan are here, they’ve come to save us. It doesn’t even register in my mind that they are alone, and that there really should be dozens of warriors rallying behind them. All I can think of is that fate is finally on our side, we are going to make it out of here alive.

  Then my eyes land on Karadese and I know that nothing is ever going to be the same again.

  “Zaneth.” My sharpened teeth scrap my lips, nicking the skin and allowing a trail of blood to seep down my chin. “Help Karadese.”

  Zaneth follows my gaze, his face tightening when he sees her lying, broken, on the ground.

  “Araton.”

  Araton glances up, his brow furrowed with concern for his son. When he finally sees what we are both staring at, his heart breaks.

  He jumps up, pushing passed Zaneth and Kozhan as he races to Karadese’s side. He doesn’t even bother to look at Garvien, who now stands there in full Zantronian form, his teeth bared as he grunts obscenities at us all.

  “Kara, my sweet, wake up.” Araton lifts her head in his hands, his palm sliding through the blood to smear against her pale cheek. “Kara, you have to wake up.”

  She doesn’t make a sound, her body as still as the blood which no longer seeps from her wound.

  “No!” Araton’s wail rips through my soul, his mournful cry of loss just makes it an aching reality.

  “What have you done!” he spits at Garvien. “What have you done!”

  Garvien hisses back, his eyes glowing with a fire that is not his own. I can feel it, this newfound power beginning to grow inside of him, merging into its all-too-willing counterpart.

  Unable to hold back his rage any longer, Kozhan darts forward, his sword raised expertly in front of him. My eyes trail his movements, knowing what he will do even before he does it.

  Garvien smirks at the audacious Prytorian daring to take him on. He rolls his shoulders, squaring his stance just as Kozhan lunges, making his first strike.

  The sword blurs as it hurtles towards Garvien’s chest, missing by mere millimetres when he curves his massive torso with too much fluidity for someone of that size.

  Zaneth calls out, demanding Kozhan to pull back; his years of experience intuitively warning him that the moment to act isn’t now.

  Stubbornness must run in the family, because Kozhan refuses to back down. Zaneth senses it at the exact same moment that I do, and he rushes forward, leaving Blay defenceless, but he’s too late to stop the inevitable.

  Garvien retaliates to Kozhan’s fruitless attack without a second’s hesitation. Before I can blink, he swings his fist straight at his stomach, connecting so heavily that Kozhan’s spine arches under the pressure. I scream out, a useless warning that only causes Garvien to laugh hysterically, before he pivots in one swift movement, smashing his elbow into Kozhan’s face, shattering his nose, letting a river of blood flow down to stain his chin.

  Kozhan absorbs the blow, swallowing the pain as if it’s nothing more than a nuisance. But no longer are his movements as precise and smooth; he stumbles, letting his guard down momentarily.

  Zaneth is only steps behind when Garvien makes his paralysing blow. One moment Kozhan is standing strong, ready to make another strike, the next Garvien skewers him with his claws, thrusting his fist so deeply into his stomach that I can barely see his hand.

  Zaneth’s screams overcome Kozhan’s and I truly don’t know which one is in more pain. Zaneth’s torment at watching his own child being maimed, or Kozhan’s physical agony with his insides being sliced to shreds.

  The terror written on Zaneth’s face as he swings his sword towards his son’s assailant is of pure anguish, the fear strengthens his resolve, keeping his aim true as he lands his mutilating blow.

  Garvien howls as the lethal steel blade slices across his forearm, cutting deep into the bone, and he unintentionally pulls back, releasing Kozhan from his grasp, letting his body fall into Zaneth’s waiting arms as he stumbles back, cursing the warrior with threats he is only too happy to follow through on.

  Zaneth reacts instantly, wrapping his arms around Kozhan and dragging him back, further into the tunnel, next to Blay. He struggles to remain calm as he acts methodically, reaching into a pouch tied to his waist and pulls free a somewhat dried Jalooniem stem.

  Kozhan gasps in gulps of air, his face at first twisted in pain, slowly begins to relax as Garvien’s paralysing venom works its way through his body, leaving him barely conscious.

  Zaneth squeezes what’s left of the Jalooniem sap into Kozhan’s mouth, praying with all of his hope that it will be enough to get him through.

  When Kozhan blinks rapidly, a groan emitting from his open lips, Zaneth hangs his head, the tension easing from his coiled muscles. He looks up, his full hatred directed at Garvien, and when I see a sense of relief in his eyes, I know that Kozhan will make it, he won’t die today, not yet at least.

  Garvien clenches his fists until they resemble veiny boulders, anger radiating off him and I brace for his next attack. Injured or not, he is a formidable force.

  Zaneth stands, pure determination coming off him in waves. He wants nothing more than to tear Garvien apart, something that the new king also wants to do to his foe.

  Just when Garvien marches forward, ready to prove his dominance, Veridom’s ring initiates, taking us all by surprise.

  The ring fully embeds itself into Garvien’s flesh, the curse activating with frightening strength. The power hits me, like a lightning bolt and I scream out, falling to all fours as my muscles contract, threatening to burst from my skin.

  The transformation is desperate to take place, to turn me fully into something I despise and I fight it, with all of my waning strength, I push back, holding onto every memory of good that I can summon to fight off this overpowering sensation to change.

  I scream, over and over again. My cries echoing all around us, filling the cavern with my pain, mixing with Garvien’s spine tingling laugh.

  Zaneth tries to reach me, no longer concerned with taking Garvien down, only caring about getting to my side to protect me, but the instant he steps in my direction Garvien leaps forward, his mangled face alight with the promise of creating more misery.

  Zaneth halts, his lips lifting in a snarl of his own as he raises his swords, ready to fight Garvien to the death.

  And there will be death, only death, but those that die will be them, my friends, and not the monster who started this snowballing chain of events.

  I can’t let that happen. No matter what becomes of me, I won’t stand back and watch them all die.

  I don’t have the strength to fight Garvien off, not on my own. I will need so much more power if I’m going to succeed. But I’m not on my own, not really. Inside me, I hold the key to it all. I’m connected
to each and every Zantronian alive and there is only one, one who betrayed their king, only one who can control me.

  With no time to waste, I open myself up fully to the Hive, letting their mentality fall over me like a tidal wave, drawing on their strengths, their knowledge of Garvien and their pain at the betrayal of their king, to fuel me, to guide me forward.

  The moment Garvien charges Zaneth, I jump up, my skin alight with the Nevithan magic weaving across my distorted body, trying desperately to douse the transformation surging in my veins.

  Using the power within me, I throw myself at Garvien, jumping onto his back and wrapping my arm around his beefy throat. He yells out, surprised by my sudden attack when the curse is so close to claiming me.

  Zaneth holds back, unable to attack while Garvien thrashes us about, spinning around and around, trying to dislodge me. If Zaneth attacks at the wrong time he’s just as likely to maim me as he is to hurt Garvien.

  I hold on for dear life, clamping my legs around his waist, my grip sliding against Veridom’s blood which still sticks to Garvien’s skin.

  I can’t keep this up for long, I have to bring him down somehow and then Zaneth can finish him off, I know he’s ready to attack the moment we stop thrashing about.

  Hundreds of options whizz through my head, ideas pulled from dull minds far away, their thoughts slowly deferring to follow their new king, regardless of his betrayal; it’s purely their way.

  Each move I make, he blocks. Every attempt I take at attacking him, Garvien counters it before I can do any damage at all. Just as I envision stabbing a dagger through his thick skull, he grabs my wrist before I even manage to pull the dagger free from its sheath.

  With one quick flick of his hand, he snaps my wrist, the pain radiating up my arm with incredible intensity and I flinch back, screaming at the top of my lungs, and as I do my talons dig into his shoulder, piercing the thick, calloused skin.

  For a moment he stumbles as my venom enters his body, circulating through his bloodstream, but he is strong, far stronger than any other being now that the cursed ring impregnates his body.

  I’m distracted as I feel the others coming, racing towards us through the same winding tunnels from which Veridom emerged. Their thunderous footsteps vibrate against my spine as they spill into the room, dozens of them, nearly filling the cavern completely.

  As if by command they swarm towards Zaneth, eager to protect their royalty, even if at this very moment their king is being attacked by one they class as their own.

  Araton moves quickly, scooping a lifeless Karadese up into his arms and backing down the tunnel, his voice screaming commands at Zaneth who shouts back, unwilling to follow an order I can’t quite hear.

  Kozhan has come around from his poisoned state; the Jalooniem acting as an anti-venom, and with great difficulty he manages to pull himself up. Leaning heavily against the rocky wall, his eyes scan the Zantronian fighters who still spill into the cave, his face turning pale with fear, uncertainty chasing away the bravery which once filled him completely. Now he knows the true pain of a Zantronian’s wrath and seeing how greatly outnumbered we are, he shakes his head, unwilling to stay and fight any longer.

  He stumbles backwards, one arm wrapped around his slowly healing abdomen, while the other holds him up, a trail of blood staining the wall as he retreats beyond my sight.

  My heart stutters knowing that Blay lays there, completely defenceless and totally unguarded now that Kozhan has abandoned him, and for a moment I’m frantic to protect him.

  While my attention is diminished, Garvien recovers far too quickly. No longer giving a damn about my well-being, he reaches back to grab me, grunting with frustration as he tries to rip me off his back while shaking his entire body violently, his claws raking across my back, shredding my skin and I scream out once again, arching back and nearly losing my grip entirely.

  I brace for the onslaught of poison to embed into my system, waiting for my muscles to relax while my mind blackens before inevitably passing out, just like all the times before when their talons entered my flesh.

  Garvien waits too, expecting me to fall from his shoulders so he can be done with the annoyance I’ve become.

  I tighten my grasp, struggling through the pain which seems to be easing and I’m scared, not knowing if it’s the Nevithan magic healing me or if I’m about to lose consciousness at any moment.

  Garvien seems to sense my body healing, the poison ineffective against me, surprising us both. Suddenly he lurches forward, throwing me to the ground. My lungs explode, leaving me winded, as I blink away the black dots marring my vision to see his hulking form leaning over me, his mouth inches from my own as he yells, saliva flinging onto my face.

  His words are foreign to my ears, yet I can understand them clearly. He means to kill them, every Prytorian in existence, starting with my friends; wanting nothing more than the pleasure of ripping them apart, limb by limb, whilst their hearts still beat and can feel every moment of torture. And a part of me, the new fragment which continuously grows, surges with joy at the prospect of creating that much pain, at the excitement of wielding so much havoc over another person.

  I’m lost in his vision, no longer able to differentiate between what are his thoughts and which are mine. My body trembles as the last remnants of myself twist and shrink, allowing the burn to puncture my soul even further. I can feel myself slip away, piece by tiny piece, until there is almost nothing left of me to hold on to.

  Across the room, through the constant clanging of steel and grunts of exertion, a soft moan reaches my ears. Blay’s feelings slip into the merging Hive of consciousness as he begins to wake, trying desperately to fight through the dark hold which the Zantronian poison creates, all in an effort to get up, knowing deep inside his bones that something terrible is occurring.

  His murmurs reach inside my heart, the simple sweetness of his voice pulls me through, bringing me to the surface, if only for a few precious moments.

  I turn, scraping my cheek across the rocky ground, no longer aware of Garvien hovering above me like a lunatic. My eyes searching through the battle unfolding in front of us until I find him, the one person who can still reach my soul, lying just out of reach, half hidden behind Zaneth as he stands guard while somehow managing to fend off the Zantronian fighters.

  Our eyes find each other, his blurry and glazed, mine colourless and alien. Still he sees me, the real me, trapped inside a body that could rip him apart the moment I lose complete control.

  He shakes his head, trying to chase away the fogginess which scrambles his mind, and when he opens his eyes once more, I see it, the truth of his enduring love. He would do anything for me, no matter what form my body takes. Including dying.

  He loves me, this man of honour. He has loved me from the very first moment when he held me in his arms as I lay dying in the Zantronian dust. He loves me, and I love him.

  His love is all I need, it gives me the strength I’ve longed for, the courage to guide me through the darkness.

  I let my mind go silent, filling it with nothing but white light, chasing away any plans I have to get through this never-ending cycle of the damned. It’s the only way. I can’t plan, not while Garvien is buried inside my head, knowing every movement I’ll make.

  I gaze at the boy, dirtied and covered in blood, allowing my mind to fill with only his comfort and I let my body act on instinct, not focusing on any of the details as I wrap my palm around a dagger, holding it tightly in my shaking hand, filling my mind with only thoughts of Blay.

  The moment I move, Garvien realises what I’m about to do, but he’s too late. The dagger is already soaring towards him, and with my last remaining hope I focus on thrusting the blade deep into his gristly throat, only stopping when I hear a gurgling crunch.

  His harrowing screams vibrate through my body like a jackhammer, and I’m not the only one to feel the brutal force of the consequences of my actions. Garvien’s agony travels throughout the Hive mentality li
ke the pain belongs to each of us. We all bear the brunt of his assault, a simple mechanism that ensures each of us bound to the king will stop at nothing to prevent any further pain.

  Automatically each Zantronian fighter stops in their tracks, turning away from their mission to end Zaneth as they search through the blinding pain to find their new master, needing to protect him above all else.

  With the last of my strength, I look at Blay one last time, needing to hold on to his memory for as long as I can.

  Somehow he’s managed to pull himself onto his side and little by little he is dragging himself forward, across the biting rocks which tear open his damaged flesh, all in a bid to reach me. Even in his narcotised state, he fights to protect me. But now it’s my turn.

  Dragging my eyes away from Blay is the hardest thing I have ever done. Knowing that my last image of him will always be filled with torture, of his handsome face marred with agony and sacrifice. That’s not the memory I want to be trapped inside my brain with the little piece of me still stubbornly clinging onto hope, refusing to relinquish this tiny strand of myself over to the enemy. But I will hold onto it, his image of misery, I will need it to compel me to do what must be done.

  “Zaneth!” I scream with every ounce of myself I have left.

  “Rayna, I’m coming!” I hear his gravelly voice over the screams of death as he cuts down each Zantronian standing in his way. Their deaths only add to my torment, filling my soul with loss and crippling me further with pain I can barely contain. If he continues on with this rampage then I won’t be able to sustain myself any longer.

  “Stop!” I scream as loud as I can manage. “Zaneth go, take Blay now!”

  Blay’s own disgruntled, intoxicated scream of defiance mixes with Zaneth’s, neither one of them willing to leave me trapped here in hell.

  Finally I see Zaneth through the bodies of fighters hovering around their king, uncertain of what to do. Our eyes lock, and for just a moment he freezes, seeing the truth inside my gaze. I can’t fight this much longer. He knows it as well as I do. There is no chance for me, not anymore, too much has surpassed.