Beyond the Core (The Starborn Series Book 1)

by K. R. Cunningham

  Owen froze in fear. He had never seen such creatures before. His breath came in gasps as he asked Colt, “What do we do?”

  “I don’t know.” Colt swung his blade around and took a threatening step forward, but the strange Entities were not deterred. They continued to circle around them.

  “They’re not attacking,” Gilda exclaimed, her voice shaking. “Who are you?”

  They did not respond, but one of the shadows broke from his place in the circle and came forward.

  Owen held up his dagger, ready to strike, but the being only looked at him, its yellow eyes penetrating. His body trembled, his heart beating so hard his chest ached, and his whole body was alight with a burning he could not fathom. He was enraged by the menacing shadow and lashed out with his weapon with a growl. The dark figure jumped back and took its place walking around them once again.

  “Can you channel to them?” Colt said.

  Owen stared at each one of them. “No, but I can try to close them off.”

  One of them came forward again, this time from the side, and caught Gilda off guard. She jumped back with a squeak, making them all stagger.

  “Stay back!” Colt yelled, and thrust his blade forward. It sliced right through the shadow. The steel punctured nothing more than air. Black curls of smoke twisted around the blade before the Entity moved quickly away and reappeared beside them again.

  Owen and Colt looked at one another with wide eyes. Owen felt Colt’s fear as all three figures drew in close to them. Gilda trembled behind him. The Entities came close to their faces, engulfing them in dark smoke that swirled about the air. He tried to shut his mind off to his power, but nothing seemed to work.

  “He wants you,” came a whisper.

  “They want you.”

  “He’ll find you.”

  “All of them do. Not just HE, but she.”

  “Stop it,” Owen said. He shut his eyes tight.

  “They call for you.”

  “Back off!” Colt yelled.

  Owen closed his eyes. Colt bumped his hand from behind, and Owen grabbed it. It gave him reassurance as he willed his power to come out. His veins warmed as the fluid motion of energy transcended his body and flowed out into the open air.

  “Nothing is closed,” Owen spoke to the shadows. “Everything is connected.”

  Power surged through his body, bathing him in a warm light. Having Colt and Gilda close to him gave him the courage to find his power and use it the way he felt was right.

  His spirit lifted as he searched the shadows for emotion and energy, but there was nothing but hollow emptiness. When he slowly opened his eyes, the figures backed away, covering their eyes. A bright, yellow light caught his eye from below. The glowing lines in his dagger startled him, though he had seen the blade light up before with the Outriders. Pulling it up, he pointed the tip of the blade toward the three Entities gathered in front of him.

  “Leave,” he said. The shadows merged into one before they curled into black smoke that wound around the edge of the blade and disappeared.

  Owen threw the weapon down, afraid the Entities now possessed the blade.

  Gilda turned around and gasped, her hand on her hilt as she searched the area.

  Colt sheathed his weapon and looked at Owen. “What happened?”

  Owen looked down at the dagger, the lines dimming and fading out. “It—it sucked them in. Or . . . something. The shadows . . . I could sense something sinister coming, but I couldn’t feel anything from them. It’s like a dark energy surrounded them, but it wasn’t coming from them.”

  Gilda’s face was ghostly white. “I’ve felt some fearful things in my life, but nothing like that. It was as if they were in . . .”

  “In your head?” Owen offered.

  She nodded.

  Colt picked up the dagger and turned it over, looking intently at it for the first time as its light dimmed. “What a strange blade this is.” He glanced up and smiled. “And an even stranger wielder.”

  Owen gave him a smirk as he took his blade back and stared at it. “Do you think the . . . Entity things are in here?”

  Colt shrugged. “Just be glad they went in there instead of you.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

  “Well, you can always make him carry the dagger instead,” Gilda chimed in. “That way if they come out, they can possess him.”

  “How kind of you.” Colt smiled smugly.

  “No.” Owen tucked the blade safely into the sheath on his belt. “It’s fine. It was odd, but I think they’re gone. The dagger dispelled them somehow.”

  “Right, well, if those things were just spirits, then I can’t imagine what else is out here lingering around.”

  “Yes, let’s leave this area.” Gilda took the lead, her steps swift.

  Falling into step behind Colt, Owen glanced around as they left. He had a feeling deep in his gut that there was something far more powerful following them.

  They reached the outskirts of Covehaven the next evening. Travelers referred to it as “the trading town of the eastern coast” because it harbored many taverns, inns, and shops, much like those of Edgewater. A lighthouse stood tall in the distance, and the town sat above jagged and slippery black rocks that cascaded down to the beach.

  Owen watched the water as it crawled up the shore, his heart aching. It was beautiful, but he longed for the sea spray of Emberton, to watch the tide rise and recede there once more.

  “We’re nearly there.” Colt huffed as he came to a stop, gazing at the town in the distance. “There’s no way we’ll get past the city without someone stopping us. They have guard towers that stretches for miles across.”

  “Maybe we can go in from another way,” Owen spoke up.

  “Covehaven is too guarded,” Gilda said. “And I see Legion units training in the field. Means we’re shit out of luck.”

  “What do we do?” Owen looked at them in concern.

  For a long moment, none of them said anything. Then Gilda sighed. “I can scout the beach and see if I can find a way around to the cave entrance. I came up from Avathon through them with my old clan before.”

  Colt crossed his arms. “You neglected to tell us that part.”

  She shrugged. “Does it really matter? It means I know the area more. I don’t care to go back in, but it seems to be the only way out.”

  “We shouldn’t split up,” Owen said.

  “We’re less suspicious if only one of us goes.”

  Colt nodded. “Meet us back here in an hour, then.”

  Gilda looked around before making her way down to the beach. Owen watched her until she rounded a corner, out of sight.

  Owen ran his hands through his hair, his heart pounding at feeling stuck. “What if we can’t find a way past Covehaven?”

  “We go back, I guess.”

  Owen’s chest fell. “Go back where? We have nowhere left to go. This was our next destination. We have Wielders, beasts, strange shadows after us.” He paused to take a deep breath. “Amias is still gone. No doubt he would have known what to do.”

  “But Amias isn’t here. All these things are dead weight on your mind. Think about a way around it.”

  “Is Amias dead weight to you?” Owen snapped, suddenly full of fire.

  “I didn’t mean it that way.”

  The look in his companion’s eyes was gentle, but Owen pulled away from his gaze and crouched on the ground. Pulling his knees into his chest, he rocked his body and looked out over the water. His mind was exhausted, his body was numb from the cold, and he was not sure what to make of their situation. Retreating and being alone was the best way for him to think clearly. His eyes watered, but he grinded his teeth to keep the hot tears at bay.

  What do we do? What would Amias do?

  Neither of them spoke until the last remnants of the evening sun disappeared. Then Colt sat on the ground beside him and looked his way.

  “What do you want to do, Owen?” he asked.
/>
  “I don’t know. I just . . . don’t want to be alone.”

  “I’m not leaving.”

  Owen furrowed his brow. “And if we’re caught?”

  “We’ll figure something out.”

  “How are you able to keep so calm about all this? How are you able to just make decisions as you go?”

  “You just do. Look, nothing’s happened to us yet. We’re still here, close to Avathon. Once we step foot there, those Wielders can’t follow us without a warrant to come into the country. The Legion guards at the border are strict. They can’t let them pass without one. We’ll find another way around.” Colt put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re on edge. You need to calm down.”

  “What do you expect with all that’s happened lately? When we were about to be hanged, I thought that was it. I thought I was going to die with a rope around my neck.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “No. Thanks to Gilda. And now I’ve dragged her into this.” His mind was too flustered to think anymore, his eyes too wrought with the sadness he refused to spill in front of his companion. All he wanted to do was lie down right where he was on the grass and let the sound of the waves crashing along the rocks lull him into a deep slumber.

  “Don’t fall asleep,” Colt said, shaking him awake. “We can’t stay here. Let’s at least get to those trees and wait for Gilda. Come on, mate. Grab my arm.”

  His body aching, Owen used Colt to pull himself to his feet. His legs were heavy, and he swayed as he tried to keep himself awake. He blinked until his eyes opened wide, then he walked slowly, his mind in a daze.

  The trees in the distance loomed dark into the sky. He was not sure if he could take another night out in the cold with little food or shelter. As they walked, Owen could not help but glance around in the darkness, feeling a trickle of fear that they may see another Entity. They had seen the shadows only that morning. Though he had been able to dispel them, he still shook at the thought of them.

  “Not far now,” Colt said, trying to keep him awake. “You can lay down and sleep. I’ll keep watch for a while. I’ll figure out where to go from there. We could always travel up the coast to one of the smaller fishing villages and pay for them to smuggle us onto their boats.”

  Owen stopped where he was and fell on his knees. His heart racing, he found himself unable to move.

  Colt faltered and looked at him. “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t get up.”

  As Colt bent down to pull him up, he grunted in pain. He, too, dropped to the ground until he was on his hands and knees.

  Now fully awake, Owen whipped his head around and saw two figures on horseback. He swallowed hard.

  “Well, well. What a pleasant surprise finding you here,” came the familiar voice of the Core Wielder. The man drew up on his horse until his face was visible in the moonlight. Beside him, Rhielle sat poised, a frown on her face as she held a brass Core tightly in her hand.

  “Let him go, please,” Owen begged, ignoring him.

  “You don’t get to negotiate,” Rhielle started.

  The Wielder held up his hand to her. “Enough. I don’t want to prolong this any more than we have to. Owen, it’s time to give up your silly little quest and come with me. I promise I won’t harm you. If you resist, however, I can’t guarantee your friend the same courtesy.”

  Rhielle moved the Core slightly in her hand.

  A blood-curdling scream tore through the air as Colt clutched at his stomach.

  “Stop it, please! I’ll do anything you say!” Owen shouted.

  Colt’s cry relented, and his body eased. He blew out a shaky breath.

  “Anything, anything,” Owen stammered, his voice quivering with an all too familiar fear. A fear he had felt for his mother, for leaving those he loved, for Amias. Now for Colt. He could not bear the thought of losing him, too.

  “Good.” The Wielder turned to Rhielle and took her Core momentarily. “Tie them up, and make it quick.”

  Rhielle dismounted, took a pair of shackles, and placed them on Colt’s arms. He was too weak to fight her. Then she shackled Owen’s wrists.

  They headed for Covehaven.

  Along the way, Owen glanced at the beach where he knew Gilda was, and hoped she would figure out what had happened. But more than anything, he hoped she would leave to save herself.

  Chapter 25

  The hard stone of the cell was cold. There were no windows, no lights. Only darkness. Somewhere near Owen, a mouse squeaked. His hands were chained, but he could feel damp dirt through broken stones. There was a single iron door somewhere in the room, but the pitch black obscured it from view. His heart slowed when it grew quiet, and sped again when he heard noises—sometimes squeaks from mice, other times mumblings from soldiers.

  Owen swallowed hard and shivered. He had never been in a cell before, at least not intentionally. There had been a time when he’d lived with his mother that he and a few village boys would carouse through an old guard house and pretend they were prisoners. But that was long ago, and this was real.

  Sitting on his knees, he tried to move toward the gate, but the shackles on his wrists held him back. Chains from his shackles ran to the wall, barring him from moving too far. He had tried to remove them, but it only hurt him. There would be no way out of the cell.

  A door opened in the distance, and Owen froze. A small window on the iron door squealed open, and orange light filled the room. Owen drew back against the wall, squinting, the chains rattling. The dark shadow of the Core Wielder came into view. A guard unlocked the door and let him in before shutting it tightly again.

  “Hello, again,” the Wielder said, his face fully visible in the orange glow of the lantern he held. His eyes were dark blue, and his short hair looked softer against the light. Owen knew this man from his past, albeit only briefly. The familiar smell of cinnamon and orange filled his senses. This was the Wielder who took Brolin away, who had his parents beaten senseless.

  Owen harbored nothing but fear for this man, but he would not let it show.

  “I was hoping we could talk,” Elian went on. “I suppose it would be appropriate to give you my name, given your circumstances. I am Elian Darrow. I already know who you and your friend are.”

  “Where’s my companion?” Owen asked.

  “Safe.”

  Owen’s jaw tightened. He glared at the Wielder.

  “You do understand why you’re in custody?” Elian asked. “I’m surprised to see you’re not marked, but being Astran, you’re well past due for your Cleansing.”

  “I don’t want to be Cleansed.”

  “That isn’t your decision to make.”

  Owen heard voices murmuring outside the door. When Elian looked back, shadows bounced off the walls outside the cell. The Wielder sighed and shut the small hatch on the window, closing them off from the soldiers in the hall.

  “Can’t blame them for being curious,” Elian said. “Wielders are in their town with a hostage. A cause for gossip, don’t you think?”

  “I don’t care what they think,” Owen spat.

  “But I do. I don’t want everything we’re talking about out in the open. The quicker we’re done here, the quicker we can head to Alacor. I need your cooperation.”

  “The only thing you need is my power. Why act like a Cleansing is anything noble, when you know very well it could kill me?”

  The Wielder hesitated and looked away. He set the lantern on the ground, revealing the dark corners of the cell and red stains on the ground. Two mice scurried away into a hole in the wall. “Do you, by chance, know how the ritual works?” he asked.

  Owen did not reply. He knew the idea of it, but was not sure he wanted to know the details.

  “The Cleansing,” Elian went on, “is the best way to keep Astran power intact when extracted. While it’s true that it’s easier to kill Astran people to extract it faster, Cleansing actually allows the power to retain all its true properties. Such power was never intended f
or humans such as you, which is why you can legally be killed if you refuse it. To be Astran is to be a traitor to the Legion.”

  “We didn’t choose to be traitors.”

  Elian bent down on one knee in front of him. “You’re right, but that’s why you’re at our mercy. The gods allowed this power, but abandoned us because they could not control their own creations. And all because one of their own bestowed the gift to one human.”

  Goosebumps chilled Owen’s spine. He glared at the Wielder.

  Elian grinned crookedly. In the lamplight, the youthfulness of his face stood out against the shadows, if only briefly. He was not quite middle-aged, but the faint lines around his eyes and the seriousness in his face told Owen he had been doing this a long time.

  “It’s just a legend,” Owen said. “You, the Legion, and the masters, you’re all mad, relying on a story as an excuse to be in control.”

  “The Legion was put in place to control the Astran folk, to weed them out until their power is no more. This is no legend—it is truth. The sole purpose of the Legion is to eradicate the power from all Astrans so we can give it to another force.”

  “Your Cores,” Owen said. “Everyone knows that.”

  “No, to Yuna.”

  Stifling a shiver, Owen thought of Rose, who he had met on the road. The young girl had also told him her power belonged to the goddess. “Is that all I evaded, then, by not being marked? I didn’t have to be brainwashed by fools?”

  “What you call ‘brainwashing’ is the truth, and one day you’ll see I’m right. Yuna’s spirit may still slumber, but it’s also stirring. The masters in Milarc and Avathon have calculated that the time of her return is upon us. It means our world will gain a god back, and hopefully set things right once again. Reports of quakes and floods continue to grow around the world. We’ve lost one whole continent due to such factors. We don’t want to lose more. Milarc grants you mercy, as does Avathon. Do you think Yvora would bestow such mercy upon you? They’d behead you as soon as they found out you were Astran. It isn’t much better in Arcmere, where war is rampant. Count your blessings.”