Beyond the Core (The Starborn Series Book 1)

by K. R. Cunningham

  Rhielle looked over at the wrinkled paper as he unfolded it. It was a rough sketch mapping the Wheaton and Brynrock regions. Harrow Grove was marked with an X, and below it said thirty to forty miles.

  To the west was the coastal village of Emberton, which was circled. Elian smiled broadly. “I think you just found our next destination,” he said.

  Rhielle shrugged. “Could be nothing.” She held the green marble between her gloved fingers.

  “It’s a lead. And thank the gods, we can get out of here.”

  As Elian came out into drizzle, an emotional pain tore through his chest. He felt the weight of the Core in the pouch on his belt. So much had happened in the past few months, between Anna’s death and the accusations that hung over Amias’s head.

  Amias had been a close friend of his. Elian could not imagine taking him in for the treason he had committed against the Legion. But here he was, trudging through the countryside looking for him. Regardless of his feelings, if fate would have him find Amias, then fate seemed to be on Elian’s side.

  Chapter 6

  Owen eyed Amias, arms folded against his chest as he waited. The older man had examined the dagger and now was doing the same to the leftover Core from the Outrider.

  Colt explored the corpse of the fallen beast, its insides a jumble of hard bones and metal material. Black blood pooled around it, the stench of death already strong. Owen grimaced as Colt cut through the skin where the Core had been.

  Finally, Amias sighed and said, “I think you extracted the power from the Core.”

  “How?” Owen asked.

  “I don’t know,” Amias replied quickly. “The Legion has done well in using extracted Astran power and using its properties in this animal’s Core. The Legion can bring almost anything to life except humans. I’ve never actually seen these Cores up close, but I know they’re very powerful. Think of it, to bring something dead back to life. Here, have a look.”

  When Amias extended his arm, Owen drew back. He had not seen a Core so close up before. He expected the orb to be heavy, but when he took it in his hand, he was surprised to find it weighed as much as a small rock.

  “It’s so light,” he said, rocking it in his hand. He ran his fingers over the deep grooves that ran up and around it at sharp angles. “What are these lines?”

  “They emit the glow when the Core nears its target.”

  “But why would it make the dagger glow?”

  “Right—I want to know what all that was about, actually,” Colt chimed in, standing from the beast.

  “Amias would know more than I do. He only gave it to me when we left.”

  Amias shrugged. “It’s just an ordinary blade.”

  “So we get to use him as our main defense now, then, or just his blade?” Colt took his pipe from his coat pocket and lit it.

  Amias gave him a weary look, then rolled his eyes.

  Owen frowned deeply. “Is that a compliment or are you being smart?”

  “There’s a bit of truth in it. I mean, your dagger could really save our asses if we face one of those things again.”

  “But I was the one who drove it into the thing.”

  “Right, when Amias and I had it held off. But see, your fight is a bit shoddy is what I’m getting at.” He took a few puffs off his pipe.

  “Shoddy?” Owen was taken aback. “You want to explain?”

  “You’re a shit fighter.”

  Owen clenched his jaw. “But I did help, didn’t I?”

  “I almost landed a damn arrow in your ass when you took the first plunge. Careless, you are. Are you not Astran? You really don’t know how to channel at all? Thought you were just joking.”

  A flush rose up Owen’s neck and burned his cheeks. He clenched his fists and tightened his jaw. He was not one to be easily angered, but the nonchalant insults Colt threw at him sparked a fire deep in his chest.

  “That’s enough.” Amias cleared his throat. “He’s never been in a fight like this before.”

  “Yeah? Well, if he’d weave his magic spells, we could have all worked together. Next time he needs to just stand to the side and watch.”

  Heat rimmed Owen’s eyes, but he bit his tongue against the fiery words he wanted to speak.

  “There’s no point in arguing about it now,” Amias said sharply. “What’s done is done. We should keep moving. Someone will find the Outrider before long. We don’t want to be around when they do.”

  “Who? Wielders?” Owen asked, looking back from where they had walked.

  “Yes, and if one of these is out here, you know there’s a Wielder not far behind.”

  “Why did it attack us? I thought you said it wouldn’t.”

  “A flaw?” Amias shrugged. “I don’t have all the answers, Owen. I only know that these things exist, and if they’ve been brought back to life with power, I can only imagine what chaos might ensue. The Legion, they’re playing with dark fire here.”

  Owen glanced at the dead animal and shivered. Flies buzzed around the remains. “What about the Core?” He held it out openly in his palm.

  The three of them looked down at it.

  “It’s best that we don’t keep it,” Amias said. “We need to put it in a place they won’t find it, in case there is still some power left in it.”

  A long pause filled the air, and then Colt took the Core. He gave the destroyed orb a shake as he brought it up to his ear. Then he pulled his arm back and threw the Core out beyond the beach.

  The sphere flew far out past the cliff, landing on the shore, where a wave consumed it. When Owen and Amias glanced at Colt, the man stood smug and nodded out to the water.

  “That’s how you get rid of a Core,” he said. He slung his bag over his shoulder, placed his pipe between his lips, and continued down the path.

  Owen blew out a breath of air and fell into step behind Amias, from whom he caught the last traces of a smile as the older man fell in behind Colt. He picked up his journal, which had dropped to the ground before the attack, and tucked it into his bag.

  They left the fallen animal behind on the cliff. Having defeated the Outrider along the coast, Amias thought it best to move inland. Green Springs was still a day or two away.

  In the evening, they stopped to eat and rest for the night. Sitting down within a cluster of trees, they pulled off their bags and ate some of the biscuits and apples they had packed.

  Colt had already eaten a whole bag of nuts along the way, which did not seem to be enough to satisfy him. “I’m starved for better food than this,” he said as he bit into an apple.

  “I don’t think you should—”

  “Amias, I already know what you’re going to say. But being the man that I am, I can’t go long without killing something.” Colt got to his feet. Holding his apple in his mouth, he dropped his bag, grabbed his bow and quiver, and waved them off before stalking into the woods.

  Amias sighed as he sat down, the dark circles under his eyes marking his weariness. “We should build a fire.”

  Owen nodded and searched the area for dry twigs and brush that could easily catch fire, which was no easy task given the dampness of the ground. He caught sight of Colt in the distance, unhooking his bow from his bag and moving further within the dimness of the trees.

  When Owen came back to Amias, they used flint and steel to light a bundle of dry kindling from Owen’s pack. The brush began smoking, and before long, they had a small fire to warm their hands.

  “I haven’t walked this much in years,” Amias said. “Even in Alacor. We take horses through the city if the walk is too long.”

  “Why didn’t you bring one with you?” Owen asked.

  “Too risky. I’d rather blend in as a common folk.” Amias took out a pipe from his bag, lighting tobacco at the end.

  Owen glanced at him briefly, knowing his friend only smoked when he was feeling nervous. Settling back against the base of a tree, he stretched out his sore legs. He took a drink from his waterskin and leaned his head
back, wanting to sleep, but a question lingered on his mind.

  “How can a Core track someone?” he asked.

  Amias popped the joints in his back and took a puff off his pipe before he answered. “I told you before. The Core glows when it nears an Astran.”

  “Yes, but how?”

  “You’re inquisitive today.” Amias sighed. “I have seen a few blueprints of the mechanism. Lots of names and parts I don’t quite understand. I only know that the power of Astrans dwells within a Core, and that’s how it is powered. There can be power from several Astrans in it. That’s what makes it so powerful.”

  “It can do exactly what we can. I saw it once, in Torke.” Owen thought back to when he lived there with his mother. “I remember a boy named Brolin. I played with him some. He used his power and the villagers reported him. A Wielder came to arrest him, but his father put up a fight. The Wielder used his Core on him.”

  He paused a moment, thinking of how tall and dark the Wielder had looked. That had been his first impression of what the Legion represented. Not a group of old men who sat around a table discussing Cleansings and inventions over tea, but a tall young man with dark hair and menacing eyes. There had been no expression on his pale face, nor in his stony, dark blue eyes, not even for Brolin’s father, who he had held under the power of the Core. Owen could still hear the man’s screams as he lay writhing on the ground.

  “It’s certainly not something I would wish upon anyone,” Amias said. “But the only good thing to come of the Legion’s reign in Milarc and Avathon is the marking system. Used to be, they’d hang or behead Astrans. Now they’re given a life like those who don’t have the power.”

  “You left out the part where they’re banned from actually using their power.”

  “You’re not the only one who should feel ill-intent towards them. The common folk are also growing tired of the Legion telling them what they can’t do, especially with weapons. Banning steel over fifteen inches from peoples’ homes have been the biggest uproar for decades. Don’t be surprised if we run into any rebel groups along the way.”

  “There’s a name for those people. They claim Alliance.”

  “But some of them don’t. The Alliance is an aggressive group just beginning to root themselves.” Amias rubbed his chin. “Even so, they could be a group worth considering.”

  Owen did not want to think about it. He had seen a handful of marked Astrans in his short life, and each time he had stayed tight-lipped rather than telling them about himself. It seemed wrong to remain unmarked while others were branded. And now there were others who were not Astran, stirring noise in the south. He did not want to associate himself with them and make himself more vulnerable.

  He supposed he should have counted himself lucky that the Legion had no record of his birth. Owen’s mother and father had lived in the forest, and Amias had kept them hidden there until Owen began to walk.

  “Why didn’t mother want me branded?” he asked.

  “Because she loved you, and she didn’t want to see you go through something like the Cleansing.”

  “Then she meant for me to live like this. Always hiding, making sure I don’t make friends with the wrong people or have a normal life.”

  “No, she wanted to keep you safe. She didn’t want them to take your power. It’s something special.” Amias took a few puffs off his pipe before he set it down. Then he took a stick and drew three half circles that spiraled inward to make a swirl—the Astran symbol. “Everything is connected,” he said. “Nothing is closed. All life in our world is energy that we can sense—the trees, rivers, animals, humans. Its energy spirals to the edges of the universe. There are some who are more in tune with it. They can feel it in ways that give meaning and in ways that can make them feel physically ill. They can use it to detect hatred or love in others, and there are some who are able to use it more powerfully.”

  “But surely mother didn’t intend for me to use it.”

  “I think she wanted you to decide that for yourself.” Amias smiled weakly, then nodded to the dagger at Owen’s belt. “Are you fine to keep carrying that?”

  “Yes. I like it, though I can’t say much for its last wielder.”

  “I’ve never seen it light up before. Your father carried it but seldom used it. I think it’s a good fit for you.”

  The sky grew darker as the sun descended beyond the trees in the west. Nearby, crickets chirped low. The very last tracings of summer air could be felt, but with it came a comfortable chill.

  At least we’re leaving far before the snows hit, Owen thought.

  Amias finished his smoke and moved from his spot against the tree, standing with great effort. Grabbing his bag, he unhitched a blanket and rolled it out on the ground. “I’m going to get a few hours in if I can,” he said. “Wake me when Colt gets back, and I’ll keep watch. Then we should pick up early in the morning. Try not to fall asleep until he gets back.”

  Reassured by his words, Owen sat back and watched the area around them. He was still shaken from the Outrider attack and kept a hand over his blade in case they were ambushed again. Eventually, he relaxed enough to pull out his journal and finish his entry in the firelight.

  Before Emberton, I lived in the east. Mr. and Mrs. Gallows kept me and made me work on their farm. It was decent work, but they were cruel people. When Amias came and told me he’d found a village for me, I was so happy. My new house was abandoned and in bad shape. There were cobwebs and animal nests. The roof was broken. Amias stayed with me for a month, and together we built an extra room onto the house, replaced the broken boards and the roof, built a porch, and made it up like new. I picked up some work from Milo and met Hale. Esther gave me seeds for my garden. Living there was one of the happiest times of my life.

  With a sigh, he put his journal away. He looked at Amias’s sleeping form, then leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Thinking of Emberton, he pictured he and Hale walking along the beach. His daydream turned into a doze. Then he heard a voice, deep and muffled, echoing until he could barely make out the words.

  “A new one finds me.”

  Owen woke to the sound of someone clearing their throat. He jerked up, his heart beating quickly, and he wondered for a moment where he was. He rubbed the hilt of his sheathed dagger on his belt, his fingers curling tightly around it.

  “All right, mate?” Colt asked.

  Turning his head, Owen winced from the pain in his neck. Sweat ran down his temples. He rubbed his face, wondering if he had heard Colt speak in his sleep.

  Colt stared at him, a gnawed-on cooked animal in his hand. The sky had darkened completely. The small fire burned low, sending more smoke than light into the air.

  “I have some more squirrel cooked if you want some,” Colt said.

  “I’m fine.” Owen felt too nauseous to eat. Perhaps it was the cold.

  “What is it, then? You look a bit shook.”

  “I had a dream.”

  “What about?” Colt shoved a piece of meat into his mouth before he threw a bone out behind him.

  “Well, it was—” Owen paused. The more he thought about it, the more ominous it seemed. “I thought I heard a voice.”

  “What kind of voice?”

  “Ah, a deep one. You know, maybe like a man. I’m not sure.”

  “Probably your friend you were so jealous over.” Colt threw a bone out over Owen’s head.

  A flush of heat rose in Owen’s face, and he was suddenly glad for the dim light. “I’m not jealous.”

  Colt smiled crookedly. “Right, and I’m really an imp with a magical blade. You just haven’t seen me transform you.”

  Owen made a face at him. “Are you making fun of me?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  Beside them, Amias raised onto his elbow and growled, “Will you two tone it down?”

  Owen bit his lip. “Sorry, Amias. Something woke me.” When Colt chuckled low to himself, Owen glared at him.
“You got something else to say?”

  “Nothing, mate. You’re just queer.”

  “Oh? Well . . . so are you.”

  With a cough, Colt stood and arched an eyebrow at him. “You have such a way with words.”

  “One of you go to sleep, for gods’ sakes,” Amias hissed before laying back down.

  Rather than say anything more, Owen bit his tongue. The deep voice had shaken him, but now that he was awake, he felt better about it, and took it as nothing more than a dream.

  When the sky lightened, Amias gathered them up to continue on. Already Owen was sore from walking and lying on the ground, and his limbs were stiff from the night air. The three of them moved through the wood at a quick pace through morning, stopping little so they could cover as much ground as possible.

  When afternoon waned into early evening, a yellow haze from the sunlight strained through the trees.

  Owen smiled against the warm air. “It’s beautiful out here. I love the way the light catches on the treetops. It’s like a painting. Don’t you think so, Amias?”

  “It is nice,” he replied with a smile.

  “What, you got a table and a teapot to break out?” Colt asked. “Then we can all marvel at the scenery together.”

  “You know, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea.” Owen wrapped his fingers around the straps of his bag, hoping to relieve the weight on his shoulders. “Remind me to put it on my list of things to do before I die. Tea set up in the woods, right at this time of day. It’ll be warm and bright. There’ll be cake, of course, and tarts, and honey rolls.”

  “Sounds like too many sweets to me.”

  “You can never have too many sweets,” Owen said with a laugh.

  Amias came between them and nodded. “Look there. A path is up ahead.”

  As soon as he pointed it out, they walked along the path that wound through the woods. Moss grew between the stones inlaid before their feet, and above them was a canopy of yellow and orange leaves. In the distance, a small bridge arched over a running stream.

  “Look at that,” Owen said, running ahead. He beamed when he got to the bridge and gazed at the gurgling stream. The water flowed swiftly down a jumble of dark, mossy rocks, creating a small waterfall.