He was so overwhelmed by his thoughts that he ran into Orelle as he entered through the castellum’s large doors. Rhyn reached out his arms to steady his mother, who had slammed into his chest.
‘Did I hurt you?’ he asked, his voice filled with concern. Orelle had barely stopped since the battle. Between checking on Sloane and tending to the injured warriors, her days had been totally consumed. She’d endured as many sleepless nights as Rhyn, and her eyes looked tired. However, Rhyn noticed there was a spark to his mother's expression that he hadn’t seen in a while.
Orelle shook her head, looking far too relieved for someone who had nearly been run down. ‘I’m fine,’ she replied. ‘But I’ve been looking for you everywhere.’
‘What is it?’ Rhyn asked, his heart quickening a beat.
‘You have to come quickly,’ Orelle replied. ‘It’s Sloane; she’s starting to wake up!’
His mother had barely finished her sentence, but Rhyn was already running. His feet flew beneath him as he wove through the corridors like a madman running for his life. He didn’t see the warriors that he passed and didn’t take note of the walkways that he raced down.
His mind was filled with both joy and dread, and he was enveloped in the memories of Sloane’s last waking breaths. He remembered the moment he had lifted the Liftsal to her lips; of the agonising seconds when he had watched her swallow it and desperately prayed that it would fix her. He had been hoping ever since that it would do more good than harm.
Sloane was finally waking up, but Rhyn didn’t know if she would be the same when she returned to him. He had given her the Liftsal, and because she was human, there was every chance it would turn her into a Braky.
Chapter Two
The first thing Sloane noticed as she drifted towards consciousness was the clarity of the noises around her. She kept her eyes closed and listened to them closely. She could hear breathing nearby and the sounds of someone walking out in the corridor. She swore she could almost hear her heartbeat thumping slowly against her chest.
From the texture of the material beneath her hands and the softness of the mattress below her, Sloane knew she was in a bed, but she had no idea how she got there. Her memories were foggy as she tried to recall what she’d been doing before she fell asleep.
Ever so slowly she blinked her eyes open. The ceiling that met her gaze was bright and made from ice, and even though it was metres above her, Sloane could clearly see the way the light refracted through it. She could spot the smallest pockets of air trapped in the ice and the rivets ingrained along the surface. The amount of detail she could make out almost made her feel dizzy. She closed her eyes again to stop her head from spinning.
‘Someone get Rhyn!’ a voice called beside her. The sound rang loudly in Sloane’s ear, and she winced in reaction. She couldn’t bring herself to be annoyed though. It wasn’t just anyone calling out, and her heart warmed to know she wasn’t alone. She tried to open her eyes again, but she could feel the heaviness of sleep dragging her back down into its consuming depths.
‘Sloane?’ a voice jerked her awake again, and she groaned a little in response.
‘Sloane, wake up,’ the voice continued. Sloane wanted to be frustrated with the voice for forcing her from her slumber. But instead, she found herself smiling and turning towards the sound.
‘Rowe,’ Sloane whispered, as her eyes slowly fluttered open.
Her sister sat at the side of the bed, and the moment their eyes met, she took Sloane’s hand in her own, grasping it tightly like she never wanted to let it go.
Rowe’s hair was ragged, and there were red rings of exhaustion under her eyes. It took Sloane a moment to adjust to seeing her sister with such clarity. She was taking in so many details, and it felt like her brain was being overloaded. She could see small red veins in Rowe’s green eyes and a tiny eyelash resting on her cheek. Her lips were cracked and dry, and her chest was noticeably rising and falling as she breathed faster and louder than usual.
‘You’re awake,’ Rowe said, tears beginning to well in her eyes. ‘I’m so glad you’re awake.’
Sloane’s forehead creased as she tried to understand her sister’s concern. She didn’t get a chance to figure it out though, as the door burst open and Rhyn rushed into the room. His eyes looked wild, and he appeared just as exhausted as Rowe—if not more so. When he looked into Sloane’s eyes though, his face lit up with a heartbreakingly beautiful smile.
He didn’t hesitate as he hurried to the other side of the bed. Sloane felt the mattress dip as he sat on it and he leaned in close to her, slowly reaching out a hand to lightly brush her face. Her skin tingled warmly at his touch, and she found herself leaning into it, trying to get as close to him as she could. He was staring at her in a way she’d never experienced before. It was as though they had been separated for an age and he was finally seeing her again for the first time.
‘You’ve had me worried,’ he said, his hand dropping to his side.
Sloane’s forehead furrowed further as she looked at Rhyn and Rowe. ‘I don’t understand,’ she said, her voice low and cautious.
The pair exchanged a look, but Sloane couldn’t understand what had passed between them. It felt like they were trying to avoid saying something out loud.
‘You’ve been asleep for a while,’ Rowe said.
‘How long?’
Rowe hesitated and glanced up at Rhyn before she looked down at Sloane again. ‘It's been three days,’ she whispered. ‘We didn’t know if you would wake up.’
‘Three days?’ Sloane exclaimed.
She started to try and push herself up, but Rhyn pressed a gentle hand on her shoulder. ‘Don’t rush yourself,’ he said. ‘You need to take it easy.’
‘Well apparently I’ve already been taking it easy for three days,’ Sloane replied. ‘What happened?’
The two of them exchanged another look, which only irritated Sloane more. She didn’t appreciate their silent conversations. If they were trying to decide between them what they could say to her, it obviously meant they intended to keep some information a secret.
‘Will you just tell me?’ Sloane asked.
A flicker of concern crossed Rhyn’s eyes as he looked back down at her. ‘What do you remember?’ He spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully.
Sloane glanced away from him as she considered his question. She was the one who wanted to ask the questions, but she decided to play along if it was going to get her some answers. She chewed on her lower lip as she tried to push through the fog that was clouding her memories. Everything was a jumble though. She knew who she was and where she was at that moment, but it became confusing when she tried to recall events.
‘Everything’s hazy,’ she muttered. She shook her head a little as she tried to think back to her last clear memory, but even that was difficult to picture.
‘That’s normal,’ Rhyn said, apparently unconcerned. ‘It can take time to adjust.’
‘Adjust to what?’ Sloane asked.
But Rowe interrupted before she could get an answer. ‘Do you remember landing on Aeris?’
Sloane went to repeat her own question, but the moment Rowe mentioned landing on Aeris, memories of her ship crashing onto the foreign planet surged through her mind in overwhelming detail. She could almost feel the G’s pressing into her chest and holding her still as the pod careered downwards. She could almost sense the heat of the flames that enveloped the pod as they evacuated.
‘Yes, I remember,’ Sloane replied. ‘What else?’
‘How about the first time you met me?’ Rhyn asked.
The memory of their fight in the woods rushed through Sloane’s mind as though it was on fast-forward and she smiled. ‘I’m not sure if I’d call that a meeting.’
Rhyn cracked a smile and nodded, seemingly reassured. ‘Your memories are intact. You’re just readjusting.’
‘Readjusting?’ Sloane asked.
Again neither of them responded to her question. ‘Do you rememb
er the battle with our people?’ Rowe asked instead.
This memory wasn’t a pleasant one, and Sloane could feel tears welling in her eyes as she recalled the terror she had witnessed on the battlefield. She could almost feel the thick smoke from the explosions invading her lungs and the stench of blood and death filling her nostrils. Neither the humans nor the Unfaih would be the same after what had happened, and the memory felt like a punch in her gut as it rattled through her.
‘I remember,’ Sloane croaked, though she wished she hadn’t. She had taken so many lives to protect the Liftsal and stop the humans from stealing it and facing a fate worse than death when they tried to use it. She knew she had done the right thing in fighting with the Unfaih, but it was still difficult to accept the devastation that was caused.
‘What about after the fight?’ Rhyn asked. 'Do you remember what happened next?' His eyes were cautious, and there was a surprising amount of pain in them as he watched her. It only took a moment for the memories of their confrontation with her father to arise, and Sloane jerked up in bed as they did.
‘Is Emha okay?’ she asked. ‘Vilya?’
‘Emha’s fine,’ Rhyn replied.
‘And Vilya?’
Rhyn shook his head, the sadness in his eyes telling Sloane everything she needed to know. Emha’s mother hadn’t survived the attack by the Captain. Sloane glanced down at her lap, her frown deepening as she tried to process everything that had happened.
It felt to Sloane like the night in the Liftsal caves had only just occurred. As though minutes had passed since her father had kidnapped Emha and stolen the sacred water. It was hard to believe that it had been days since the terrifying ordeal.
‘Where is he?’ she asked, her voice more of a growl than she expected.
‘He escaped,’ Rhyn replied. He sounded far calmer than Sloane felt, and she immediately started shuffling towards the edge of the bed.
‘Well, we have to go after him…’
Rhyn took hold of her arm though, stopping her from moving any further. ‘The man is long gone. We will not find him now.’
Sloane’s eyes hardened as she looked up into Rhyn’s. She refused to believe that there was nothing she could do. Her father was on the loose with a vial of Liftsal, and she couldn’t just let him get away.
‘Where did he go?’ she asked. ‘Did he go back through the rift?’
Rhyn’s gaze turned dark. ‘No, he didn’t go back to the humans. If the trail of bodies he left behind is anything to go by, he entered the ravine, and we all know where that leads…’
‘The Brakys’ lair,’ Sloane murmured in reply.
She shook her head, not quite able to comprehend her father’s actions. They were like puzzle pieces that didn’t fit together, and she stared at the far wall as she attempted to understand her father’s behaviour and arrange it into some semblance of order.
The Captain had told them in the Liftsal caves that he had been searching for the healing water for some time. But she still struggled to accept that it was true. And she couldn't understand why he had seemingly fled with the Liftsal to the Brakys. Her father may have been a hard man, but that didn't explain why he would willingly go anywhere near those monsters.
‘My scouts tried to track him,’ Rhyn continued. ‘But all trace of him disappeared in the ravine. We don’t know if he went to the Brakys’ lair for sure. But that must be where he was heading.’
Sloane opened her mouth to speak, but Rhyn stopped her before she got a chance. ‘We need to talk about what happened in that cave…’ he said.
His eyes focused on her stomach and the memory of her father’s dagger flying towards her flashed through Sloane’s mind. Her hand lowered to the place on her stomach where the blade had pierced the skin. She felt no pain there now and not even the slightest bit of tenderness, which she would usually expect from a fresh injury.
‘There was too much blood,’ she muttered, as she looked down and cautiously pulled up the edge of her top. She expected to see a gaping wound or an ugly scar, but instead, she found the skin on her stomach was perfectly smooth and undamaged. Her eyes widened in confusion, and she quickly allowed her top to drop back into place.
‘That’s not possible,’ she said, her voice breaking as she said the words aloud. She risked a glance up at Rhyn, and there was a flicker of guilt in his eyes. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know why he felt that way. A part of her wasn’t sure she wanted the answers to why the wound on her stomach had disappeared.
‘You’re right,’ he replied, his voice breaking as he spoke. ‘It’s not possible. The dagger was too deep, and there was too much blood. You were dying, and I had no choice…’
‘I don’t understand,’ Sloane replied.
Rhyn let out a breath and slowly rubbed the back of his neck as he watched her. ‘I gave you the Liftsal.’
‘Yeah, you’ve done that before,’ Sloane replied, failing to see why he was so concerned.
But Rhyn was shaking his head. ‘It wouldn’t have been enough to simply apply it to your wound like I did the other times. You had to drink it…’
Sloane pulled back from him, hurt and fear flickering in her eyes as she looked at Rhyn and her sister. ‘Why would you do that?’ she asked, her words barely louder than a whisper.
Rhyn didn’t reply.
‘Are you telling me that I’m going to turn into a Braky?’ she continued, her voice growing stronger as it became fuelled by anger. Her body was shaking as she tried to process what Rhyn had done. ‘You should have left me to die.’
Rhyn shied away from the venom in Sloane’s words. ‘I couldn’t do that,’ he said. ‘Not when there was a chance it could save you. Especially after what your father had just told us. If it’s true that you are descended from my people, then there’s a possibility the Liftsal would change you into one of us.’
Sloane’s eyes were hard as she listened to his explanation. ‘So you fed me the Liftsal on the chance my father was telling the truth? Are you crazy?’
‘Perhaps,’ Rhyn replied. ‘But your father’s not the only reason. Your brother also never changed into a Braky despite being scratched by them countless times, and his wounds were left untreated.’
She could sense Rhyn's uncertainty though. His gaze was filled with hope, but Sloane could tell that even he wasn’t sure of his words; that he truly didn’t know what would happen to her.
‘We both know that being scratched by a Braky isn’t the same thing as drinking the Liftsal,’ she said.
Rhyn was silent for a moment. She could see her remark had hurt him. She had cut away at the small glimmer of optimism he’d been clinging onto so desperately.
‘I think your father was telling the truth about your heritage and that you are descended from my people,’ he said softly. She wasn’t sure if he was merely trying to reassure them both with his words, but she knew that neither one of them were convinced.
Sloane let out a breath and tried to consider his reasoning. She turned from him and stared down at her hands, looking to see any sign that she was changing into one of the evil creatures that haunted Ellysia. Her eyes could see in incredible detail now, and even her hearing seemed magnified. Something was unquestionably different about her, but there was no telling if she was changing into something good or bad.
‘How long until I know either way?’ she asked.
Rhyn let out a breath. ‘I’ve spoken with Lorian, and he says there’s no definitive time frame. He told me that the first humans to drink the Liftsal looked the same for the first few weeks, but exhibited what appeared to be Unfaih traits. They were strong and fast just like us, but then they continued to change. They grew aggressive and violent, and the blackness began to spread across their skin, and their eyes started to turn red. Some of them turned fully within a month, but others took a little longer.’
Sloane looked at her sister to try and gauge her reaction. There was so much sympathy in Rowe’s eyes, and Sloane could tell how much the uncertainty w
as upsetting her. Rowe reached out and grabbed her sister’s hand tightly.
‘I don’t think our father would lie about this,’ she replied. ‘You’re not turning into one of those creatures.’
Sloane wanted to be comforted by her words, but in her heart, she still didn’t feel confident. Rowe was so innocent and trusting. Of course she believed that the Captain wouldn’t lie. Sloane knew the man better though. Her father was trying to escape with the Liftsal at the time, and his words were just another method for distracting them. The Captain had barely said or done anything in Sloane’s life that made her feel like she could trust him. How could it be possible for them to be connected to this world, so far from their own? It didn’t make sense to her.
‘Even if we are descended from the Unfaih, that doesn’t mean I won’t become a Braky,’ Sloane reasoned, her voice soft as she tried not to upset her sister. She was at best part Unfaih, and in with a chance at coming out of this without fangs. At worst, she was fully human and fully screwed.
‘Perhaps,’ Rowe agreed. ‘But I’m glad Rhyn took the chance. I can’t imagine a world without you in it.’
Sloane nodded and slowly swallowed as she stared down at the bed cover over her lap. She didn’t want to say it out loud, but if she did begin to turn into one of the Brakys, there was no way she wanted to stay alive. It didn’t sound like it was going to happen that day though. And with the prospect of spending an eternity as a monster hanging over her head, Sloane was beginning to feel the need to make the most of what little time she had left.
She started moving towards the edge of the bed again and swung her legs over the side of it.
‘What are you doing?’ Rowe asked, stepping back and allowing Sloane room to stand.
‘I need to get up and get moving,’ Sloane replied. ‘I can’t believe three days have passed and I’ve been stuck in this bed. I need to do anything other than sleep.’
The Rift War Page 3