Rowe and Jack continued talking, but Sloane wasn’t fully concentrating on what they were saying. Instead, her attention turned to the celebration around them as she searched for any sign that Rhyn had arrived. She thought she would have seen him already, as he was so large that he was rarely missed in a crowd. She couldn’t see the Unfaih prince anywhere, but she did catch sight of Emha.
The small girl sat silently at one of the tables, her gaze focused on the full bowl of rashi before her. Sloane’s heart ached as she watched her friend, and she could feel the girl’s pain even though they hadn’t exchanged a word.
‘I’ll see you both later,’ Sloane said, without waiting for Rowe or Jack’s reply.
Sloane made her way straight to Emha, ignoring the looks of the Unfaih she passed. She hadn’t been to the village since she’d recovered and hadn’t seen too many Unfaih around the castellum either. It was pretty clear they all knew what had happened to her though. And from the looks she was receiving, it seemed they were all just as sceptical as she was about what she would become.
She silently pulled the chair next to Emha out from under the table and sat in it, not saying a word as she looked across the courtyard at the celebration going on in front of them. She wasn’t sure if Emha had even noticed her there. The girl seemed oblivious to everything happening around her. There was so much pain etched across her features, and her skin had turned an unnatural shade of white since Sloane had last seen her.
Sloane wasn’t very good at talking to people about their feelings, and she never knew what to say to make someone feel better. Emha’s mother dying was something no one could change, and there were no words that could repair the damage that had been done.
Sloane wanted to tell Emha that she was glad to see her up and moving about; that she was so relieved to see her still breathing. Watching the young girl now, Sloane couldn’t shake the memory of the Captain’s knife pressed against Emha’s throat, and the vision of her small body collapsing to the ground. It was something that would haunt Sloane forever. She hadn’t been able to protect the girl any more than she’d been able to protect her mother. It was a miracle that Emha was still alive.
‘Are you going to eat something?’ Sloane asked, her voice far gentler than usual.
Emha shook her head; her gaze sill narrowed on the bowl of food in front of her. While the Unfaih adults didn’t need to eat, Sloane knew that their children did need sustenance before they had first drunk the Liftsal. Emha had always been small, but she looked far skinnier than Sloane remembered.
‘Yeah, I probably wouldn’t eat that rashi either,’ Sloane said, screwing her nose up in disgust. ‘You’d think they’d bring out the good stuff for a party though. Seriously, what are you guys thinking?’ Sloane raised her voice embarrassingly loud as she spoke and several Unfaih glanced over at her with disapproval in their eyes.
Sloane glanced at Emha, hoping to see her laugh or even smile at her display, but sadly there was no reaction. Sloane huffed out a long breath and leaned back in her chair. ‘I’m surprised you came tonight,’ she said.
Emha pushed back in her own chair and glanced at Sloane. ‘Father made me,’ the girl replied quietly. ‘He thought I’d enjoy the celebration.’
Sloane shook her head. ‘It doesn’t look like you’re having much fun to me.’
Emha gave a slight shrug and looked over at the people dancing. ‘This was Mother’s favourite celebration,’ she said, after a moment of silence. ‘She used to love to dance.’
Sloane’s heart broke as she saw tears welling in Emha’s eyes. She seemed so fragile, and Sloane desperately wished she could take away the girl’s sadness and put the weight of it on her own shoulders.
There was no way to change what had happened, but a thought came to Sloane, and she swivelled in her chair and offered out a hand to Emha. ‘Perhaps we can have a dance in her memory then?’
Sloane held her breath as she waited for a response.
Emha slowly faced her and looked down at the offered hand. ‘I think she’d like that,’ she replied softly, her eyes brightening a little more than they had before.
Sloane jumped up from her chair and bowed with a flourish at Emha. ‘Well then, Madame, will you have this dance with me?’
The tiniest of smiles tugged at the corner of Emha’s lips as she nodded and stood to take Sloane’s hand.
The two of them took to the dance floor, surrounded by other Unfaih who were slowly swaying in each other’s arms. The music was unhurried and elegant, but far more sombre than Sloane would have liked. Instead of cheering Emha up, the dancing only seemed to be making her sadder, and her face was dropping further the longer she held Sloane’s hands.
Sloane was about to give up and suggest they return to their seats when the music changed dramatically and a lively folk tune beat started up. Sloane glanced up at the band, shocked by the drastic switch in the music. She found that Rhyn was standing up there with them, leaning in to speak with one of the musicians. When he had finished, his eyes moved straight to look at Sloane, and her heart warmed as she realised that Rhyn must have requested the change for Emha. She grinned broadly as she started to dance around Emha, waving her arms and legs in random directions. Sloane couldn’t dance one bit and felt like she must have looked very strange to the Unfaih, but she just kept shaking her body around and letting loose as she moved to the beat.
Her actions drew a smile from Emha, and soon the small girl started copying Sloane as the two of them spun around the dance floor. Emha’s mood lifted as the song continued to play, and it made Sloane so happy to see that she had managed to put a glimmer of joy on the young girl’s face. She knew that one dance couldn’t remove the dark emptiness that Emha was feeling, but Sloane hoped that it could help her to remember that life wasn’t all bad, even if only for a moment.
As the song drew to a close, another slower melody started up. Emha was puffing slightly, but her face was bright from their dance. ‘I’m not sure Mother would have approved of our technique,’ she said. ‘But I think she would have liked the thought.’
‘Me too,’ Sloane replied. She pulled her young friend in for a hug, and Emha gripped her tightly in response. ‘I’m really sorry she’s gone,’ Sloane whispered in Emha’s ear.
Emha nodded and took a step back. The sadness had returned to her eyes again, but she still managed a small smile as she looked up at Sloane.
‘Can I interrupt?’ a voice asked from behind Sloane. She didn’t need to turn to know it was Rhyn.
‘Sloane’s all yours,’ Emha said, disappearing through the crowd of dancers before Sloane had a chance to object.
She took a deep breath in before she slowly turned to face Rhyn. He looked incredibly handsome. His suit was made from a dark navy material that was similar to her own dress, and together they looked like they commanded the night’s sky.
‘Shall we?’ Rhyn asked, offering out his arm.
Sloane nodded and tentatively stepped forwards. She allowed her hands to settle on his chest, while he moved to wrap his arms around her waist. His closeness made her breaths come in shorter, and his touch made her feel slightly light-headed.
There was so much intensity in his gaze, and Sloane tried to avoid his probing eyes but found herself unable to look away. Instead, she stared into their ice blue depths, desperate to know what he was thinking and feeling. He was looking at her with desire, but a part of her wondered if she was imagining it.
Things may have felt different between them recently, but ever since she woke up after consuming the Liftsal, Sloane had been questioning everything about herself and thinking about all the things she took for granted before. The Liftsal had given her a second chance, and she wasn’t going to waste it.
‘It’s a beautiful night,’ Rhyn said, without looking away from her. His voice was deep, and the look in his eyes suggested there was much more he wanted to say. Sloane wasn’t sure how to respond and remained silent for a while as she built up the courage to conf
ront him.
‘You’ve been avoiding me,’ Sloane eventually said, her voice softer than she would have liked. Rhyn’s eyes darkened at her comment, and she wondered if he could see the pain she was feeling; if he could tell how much she missed the way things had been between them before.
He didn’t reply straight away, but she could feel his hands grasping her tighter and pulling her closer to him. She wanted to melt into his embrace, but her back remained rigid, and she found her stomach dropping lower with every second that silence hung between them.
‘Rhyn?’ she said, pressing him to respond.
Rhyn cleared his throat and glanced uneasily at the dancing Unfaih surrounding them. They were all quite close, so there was no doubt they could hear every word that passed between them. But they looked far too busy to be listening in.
‘I’m trying to process everything,’ he finally replied, focusing his eyes back on her. His gaze willed her to understand, but Sloane only remained confused.
‘You’re trying to process everything?’ she asked, her hands falling to her sides from where they were pressed against Rhyn’s chest. She took a small step back from him. Her body protested at the distance she was creating, but her mind wanted her to walk away further still.
‘You’re the one who changed me,’ she continued, her voice icy cold and completely void of the boiling passion that surged through her veins.
‘Sloane…’
‘You’ve had more than enough time to process what happened, and now you’re treating me like a pariah,’ she said. ‘Haven’t you considered what I’m going through?’
‘Of course I have,’ he replied, his voice breaking with emotion.
‘Then where have you been?’ she asked. ‘Why is it that when I need you the most, you’re nowhere to be found?’
Rhyn remained silent, his hands bunching into tight fists at his side.
‘Do you regret giving me the Liftsal?’ she asked.
‘Of course I don’t!’
She took another step away from Rhyn, crossing her arms over her chest as she shook her head at him. She could feel the eyes of the surrounding Unfaih were now beginning to watch them as they stood in the centre of the dance floor staring at each other. All she wanted was answers, but instead she was making a scene.
Sloane let out a long, defeated breath and turned away from Rhyn. She quickly made her way through the crowd and started back towards the castellum entrance. The celebration no longer held any appeal to her, and all she wanted to do was retreat to her room and be alone.
As she marched up the steps to the front doors, a hand grabbed her arm and pulled her to a halt. The warmth that rushed through her left no question in her mind that it was Rhyn who was stopping her from leaving.
She turned to face him; surprised by the amount of pain she could see flickering through his eyes.
‘You’re right,’ he said, his voice rough with emotion. ‘I’ve been keeping my distance from you, and I shouldn’t have done that. But ever since we talked on the wall that day, I’ve been struggling to cope. Every time I see you, I’m reminded that you may be healthy and strong now, but that could change. You could turn into one of those creatures, and there would be nothing I could do to stop it. I nearly lost you once, and I don’t want that to happen again.’
‘You can’t think that way,’ Sloane said, her voice now softer and more understanding. ‘You don’t know that's going to happen. Neither of us does.’
‘I know,’ he replied, running a hand through his hair. ‘I’ve been wrong to push you away.’
Sloane let out a breath, the heaviness in her heart lifting slightly. ‘So let me get this straight; you were avoiding me because you’re worried about losing me, not because you’re convinced I’m already turning into a Braky.’
Alarm crept into his gaze, and he lifted a hand to cup her cheek. ‘Of course I don’t think you’re already becoming one.’ He exhaled and slowly shook his head at her. ‘Not being near you these last days has been torture. I’m here now though. And whatever happens next, I’ll be by your side. I promise.’
She leant into Rhyn’s hand as he spoke. His words filled her with warmth, but a hint of worry rose up in her chest. If she only had limited time left, she wanted Rhyn by her side for every remaining second. But if she did eventually start to change, Sloane needed him to promise something else.
‘I need you with me,’ she began. ‘But if I turn into a Braky, I won’t be me anymore.’
Rhyn closed his eyes and bowed his head, as if he was trying to keep the thought from entering his mind.
‘And I don’t want to be one of those creatures,’ Sloane continued slowly. ‘I don’t want to live out the rest of my life as a monster.’
‘I understand that,’ he replied, opening his eyes again and staring deep into hers.
‘Do you though?’ Sloane asked. ‘Because if the worst should happen, and I turn into a Braky, I need you to put an end to my life.’
Rhyn swallowed, his eyes dropping to look at the ground as he tried to process her request.
‘You need to promise me you won’t let me suffer eternity as one of those beasts,’ she said, reaching a hand up to his cheek and drawing his gaze back to focus on her once again.
His striking blue eyes locked onto hers, and she could see fear rising within them. She knew that what she was asking him to do was hard, but the alternative for Sloane was far more terrifying.
Rhyn’s expression eventually began to strengthen. He nodded slowly in agreement but didn’t utter a word. She dropped her hand onto his shoulder and gripped it tightly. She was about to start pushing him to make the promise out loud, but she caught the sound of a shout ringing out through the night from beyond the huge wall that surrounded the castellum.
‘Did you hear that?’ Sloane asked as she spun around to face the large gates that barricaded the entrance.
‘What?’ he asked.
‘The sound of shouting.’
‘I can’t hear shouting, Sloane.’
She frowned, confused that he couldn’t hear the same thing as her, but she quickly pushed the concern aside and focused on listening for the sound beyond the wall.
‘There’s someone out there,’ she said, moving past Rhyn before he had a chance to question her.
She darted quickly through the crowd that separated her from the castle walls, and she could sense Rhyn was following closely behind. She could still hear the calls coming from beyond the wall, though it seemed like she was the only one who could. The other Unfaih were still celebrating, and not one of them had turned in the direction of the shouts.
Rhyn was beside Sloane by the time they reached the gates. He instructed the warriors standing guard to open the large wooden entrance, while Sloane bent down and lifted the edge of her dress to retrieve the dagger that was strapped to her calf. When the gates opened wide enough, Sloane quickly slipped through the gap and out into the night with Rhyn right behind her.
As they stepped into the snow, the shout rang out again. This time Sloane heard the words clearly as they carried through the night air.
‘Help us,’ the voice pleaded.
Sloane and Rhyn shot each other a glance, and it was clear from the look on his face that Rhyn had finally heard the cry for help as well. Without hesitation, the two of them raced out into the darkness. From the faint lights of the castellum, Sloane could see a figure in the distance—a lone Unfaih out in the middle of the snowy plateau. When she squinted her eyes, Sloane could see that the figure was carrying a large object over its shoulders.
‘Who is that?’ Sloane asked, pointing up ahead of her as she quickened her pace in the direction of the Unfaih.
‘You can see the person that cried out?’ Rhyn asked. He was running right beside her, and there was a hint of worry tinged with disbelief in his voice.
‘You can’t?’ she asked, her stomach dropping.
Rhyn didn’t respond and both his shock and silence worried Sloane. Not only had
she heard the person crying out for help when Rhyn couldn’t, but she could also see more clearly that he could in the darkness. She didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but a swirling sickness in her stomach was churning intensely. Could it be another sign that she was becoming the thing she feared?
As they drew closer to the figure, Sloane could see that it wasn’t an object that the Unfaih carried across his shoulders, but another person.
‘Govyn?’ Rhyn called, as they reached the Unfaih warrior who was shuffling towards the castellum, a body draped over his back.
‘She needs help,’ Govyn responded, nodding his head at the woman he was carrying. ‘She needs your mother.’
Rhyn didn’t hesitate as he stepped forwards and eased the woman off of Govyn’s shoulders. As he gathered her into his arms, her hair fell back from across her face, and Rhyn gasped. Sloane moved to get a better view, and her heart froze for a moment as she realised who it was.
‘Allirie?’ she whispered, reaching out a hand to touch her friend’s face. She was so pale her skin was almost blue, and there wasn’t a flicker of response from the warrior woman as Rhyn carried her in his arms.
‘What happened?’ Rhyn demanded, looking back up at Govyn.
‘I was sent to make contact with the fighters at the rift,’ he replied. ‘I never got that far though. I found her like this in the ravine about half a day’s trek from here.’
‘What was she doing in the ravine?’ Sloane asked, her eyes darting between the two Unfaih warriors who stood looking down at Allirie in confusion.
‘I don’t know,’ Govyn replied. ‘She was barely breathing when I found her. There was no sign of anyone else.’
‘She’s badly wounded,’ Rhyn interrupted, his eyes filling with a mixture of worry and anger. ‘We need to get her to my mother right away.’
Rhyn turned and started racing back towards the castellum, and Sloane sprinted after him. Fear pounded through her heart as they made their way back towards the lights that shone from the top of the castle walls. Allirie’s body was motionless in Rhyn’s arms as he powered towards the castle. Sloane knew something was terribly wrong with her friend, and she feared that Allirie would never wake up.
The Rift War (The Liftsal Guardians Book 4) Page 9