“Are you all right?” she cried, bending down to help him.
“I’m fine. How many are there?”
“They keep coming.”
Just then, Colt and Brom ran into the room, the mob on their heels.
“On your feet, now,” Brom yelled. “They aren’t backing down.”
Owen got to his feet. Their backs to one another, each of them held their weapons out, ready to strike, but the ghouls only hissed as they surrounded them in the room.
By the dimming light of Brom’s lantern and the faint light from above, Owen could see the mob well. The group of thin, straggly figures consisted of many men and women, all hunched over, their faces disfigured. It was hard to tell what many of them were, if they were people at all, as their teeth were sharp and their eyes menacing.
As one got close, Colt stabbed it in the chest and sent it reeling back toward the group, knocking more of them down. This allowed them all to attack the others that remained standing. After taking four down, they repeated their routine of attacking one by one until more than half the mob lay slain.
Brom stabbed one with his sword, the edge sinking deep into its gut. He pulled a few times to set it loose, blood spraying against his face. Faltering, he slashed into the neck of another enemy with a squelch. He staggered back, tiring.
Sweat dripped down Owen’s head as the fight wore on. The mob was endless, and Brom’s lantern was growing dimmer as the ceiling above darkened. As the light shrank, the darkness settled upon them, and the mob quieted, their eyes piercing as they fell back.
With shaking hands, Owen tried to channel his energy, but found no difference in the air around him, nor could he feel the energy radiating through him like it had before when he was in danger. The pain in his side made it hard to focus.
“I can’t channel,” he told them.
“I’ll help,” Gilda said. With a deep breath, she held up her hands.
“What are you doing?” Brom snapped at her.
A whoosh whipped through the air, and with it came the thuds of the ghoulish people hitting the walls.
The ghouls became angrier at this and attacked with more aggression, their nails and teeth sharp as they clawed and snapped.
Owen looked at Gilda in awe. With each slash or thrust by Colt’s and Brom’s weapons, he could also see and feel the expulsion of a new power coming from the woman beside him.
His lips twitched as he felt her energy. It was the motivation he needed to ward away the fear that gripped him. Holding out his dagger, Owen closed his eyes. He calmed enough to find his energy and pushed his power through his veins. Once he found it, he detached himself from the fear and willed his power into the steel.
The lines lit up immediately, casting a yellow hue into the room. Now that they could see again, Colt grabbed hold of several of the creatures and slammed them against the wall of the cave.
Owen stared at the panicked mob of half-blind ghouls shielding their eyes, and ran toward them, slashing his blade to ward them off. He was no master at fighting, but he slashed one across the gut and stabbed another in the chest. Hot liquid soaked his hand.
His dagger he found to be full of power, and each time it came into contact with one of them it sent a pulse of energy out, causing them all to fall. A low humming sound radiated from it every time he drove it through one of the creatures. At this, the mob began to back away, crawling back up the tunnel they had fallen from.
“They’re leaving,” Brom said. “Hurry, there’s a passage out this way.”
Owen panted as he watched the last of the ghouls go, then scampered toward the tunnel with his companions, his blade lighting the way.
They ran down a narrow passage riddled with bones and crumbled, fallen stonework. Large roots tore through the ceiling and walls, twisting outward through the air. Part of the passage had fallen in on one side, and they had to crawl over sharp stones and dirt to pass through.
Not long into their run down the passage, the light from Owen’s dagger died out.
Owen’s heart pounded as he shuffled through the dark, feeling the walls as he went. He tripped over roots several times, falling into Brom from behind, his legs weak from his brush with death.
“I don’t hear them anymore,” Brom said. “I think you scared them off.”
“You mean we,” Owen replied.
“Yes, you and Gilda. Good to know we have two powerful people down here. That, and your dagger seemed to spook them. Think you can get it to light up again?”
“I don’t know. It’s like I used my energy to do it. I feel weak now.”
“We should rest, then,” said Gilda, panting.
“And what, wait for those things to come back?” Colt asked.
“What do you suggest?” Brom’s voice was low. “I can’t see anything. There’s no telling what’s up ahead. The siding is already giving way. We could stumble to our deaths.”
“Brom’s right, and I could use a rest,” Owen said as he leaned against the wall. “All of us could.”
“Once we get to resting, it’ll be harder to get ourselves back up if those things come back,” Colt said. He huffed in the darkness, then said, “Owen, where are you?”
Owen grunted when he felt a hand pat his nose. “Colt, what are you doing?”
“Making sure it’s you. I feel a height difference, but don’t want to touch Gilda.”
“Trust me, you oaf, I don’t want you touching me either. I’ll sit over here,” came her scornful reply as she shuffled to the other side of the passage.
“I’m not very tired,” Brom said. “You should all get some rest while I keep an ear out for the ferals.”
“Is that what we’re calling them?” Colt grunted as he sat against a wall.
Owen said, “Well, we could always call them creepy, aggressive, dark Clags. But Clags are shorter and rounder.”
“I think ‘ferals’ suits them just fine,” Gilda said nonchalantly.
Brom cleared his throat. “Whatever they were, they live down here, and feed off the land and sea. Could be some kind of sea nymph, only uglier. Perhaps ghouls.”
“I’ve heard enough,” Colt sighed. “I’m going to rest. If I doze, wake me up if you hear any feral-clag-ghoul-nymphs.” He grunted and sniffed. “All right, Owen?”
“I’m fine. Just nervous.”
“It’ll be fine,” Gilda said gently from across the passage. “We’ve got an impressive Astran and his dagger to defend us, should anything go wrong.”
“That makes two of us, then,” Owen said.
“It’s usually a last resort. I’d rather use a blade. I enjoy a good blood bath every once in a while.”
“Right, I’ll be listening out for you in the night,” Colt muttered. “Don’t know how someone can use a weapon on their fist to fend off something like that.”
“It’s called skill,” she said.
A calm peace surrounded Owen. He smiled in the darkness. He was glad to have met another Astran. His heart fluttered with a fluffy happiness. “Thank you, Gilda,” he said.
“Get some rest.” Her voice was calm.
He leaned back against the wall until his muscles relaxed and his eyes grew heavy. As the minutes passed, he succumbed to the darkness and drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 27
Elian paced the rooftop of the guard’s tower in Covehaven. He looked out at the city, wondering where Owen could be. He’d questioned the guards who the perpetrators had sacked, discovering that a man and a woman had held them up. He’d found the guards in a cellar, stripped of their uniforms.
This was not good. It meant that Owen had friends who would back him, and it made things all the harder for Elian’s mission. He could not show up before the Elder empty-handed after allowing Lou to bring in Amias. The Elder would call Elian’s mission a cat chase. But Elian was sure Owen was Starborn. If only he could bring him in and prove it to them.
He winced and cradled his right hand in his left palm. A bandage wound around
his whole hand, over his stitched wound. Owen’s female companion had struck him without mercy.
Rhielle came up to the rooftop and leaned on the stone wall, looking out over the town with tired eyes.
“Any news?” Elian asked.
“They’re nowhere in this town. We’ve looked everywhere. There’s only one exit, and only five marked Astrans here, all of them accounted for.”
“I need him.”
Rhielle turned around and propped her elbows up on the wall. “Maybe he’s not Starborn. Just an ordinary Astran.”
He glared at her. “Did you not see what he did to my Core? Don’t you understand that Amias knew about him? It’s why Amias killed High Scholar Addams. You see none of that?”
He stepped close to her, and when he looked down, she pulled away from his towering shadow with a grimace.
Elian turned away and rubbed his forehead. “I took you for smarter than this. Fate is playing into our hands here and I’m the only one noticing.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t notice, but he keeps getting away. Has nothing to do with fate.”
“Your idealism doesn’t fit with the Legion’s beliefs. It makes me wonder why you’ve chosen this path. You’re not cut out for this life. Why did you sign up for it?”
Rhielle looked away, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Should I even have to add that the dagger Owen had was identical to the ones fabricated in Alacor? The ones said to be keys that can open the Gate?”
“You think his dagger is an original key?” Her voice was flat.
“I think there’s a strong connection between it and Owen. And now he has it again.”
Rhielle looked beyond the wall. A few strands of blonde hair blew around her face. Her green eyes glimmered in the evening light, her eyes glossy, and for a moment Elian’s heart faltered. She looked tired and confused.
Perhaps he was being too hard on her. Being a Wielder, he was used to being stern, but his soft spot usually won out with Rhielle. He came up to her and asked, his voice gentle, “Are you up to this?”
“Yes.” She straightened but still did not look at him. “I never said I wasn’t. I only mentioned it because you’re on edge. You need to relax.”
“I won’t relax until he’s caught.”
Someone ascended the stairs of the tower from behind. Commander Rolin of Covehaven’s guard took a deep breath and shook his head.
“We’ve got a hold on their whereabouts,” he told Elian. “Someone saw them go into the sewers below the city.”
“Doesn’t that dump out into the port?” Rhielle asked.
“Depends on which way you go.” Commander Rolin eyed Rhielle a moment, then continued, “There’s a whole tangle of tunnels below us, dug out a long time ago.”
“By the rebels,” Rhielle said. “When they were a group.”
“That’s right.” Elian nodded. “But I didn’t think they went so deep.”
“Oh, they stretch for miles. You go into the sewers, there’s no telling where you’ll come out; the port, the other side of the peninsula, northern shores of Avathon. Possibly even more north of here.”
“Have you sent any men down?”
“I’m not sending my men down there. We don’t use the tunnels, but you shouldn’t worry. If they go down there, they’re as good as dead. There are wild people down there. Fiendish, aggressive. Cannibals.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” Rhielle remarked.
Elian sighed. “That won’t help us. What about getting through to the border?”
“Unless you’ve got clearance from Elder Auran, the border guards won’t let you through,” Commander Rolin said.
“This really puts a damper on things, but I’m not giving up on finding them.” Elian thought for a moment. He looked past Covehaven’s walls at the ocean and narrowed his eyes. Turning to the commander, he said, “Tell me, is there another way into the tunnels besides the sewers? Possibly a . . . back way?”
The commander rubbed his chin. “There is, but we’ve blocked it on account of attacks from the sea dwellers who live below.”
“They’re nothing more than bottom-feeders. I’d like to know where this entrance is.”
“Will do. I’ll get a few men to send down with you. They can keep watch at the entrance until you come back.” The commander left promptly.
Elian turned to Rhielle. “Are you coming with me?”
“You’re afraid of tunnels.”
He turned a sharp eye on her and took a step forward. “I will do what I have to in order to catch Owen.” Of course he was terrified of the narrow, dark spaces below, but he would not let it show, especially to someone like Rhielle. The memory of going into a cave in his youth and being abandoned by his peers entered his mind for only a moment. He was no longer a young boy running off with his friends to the eastern shores beyond Alacor. He was a man, a Wielder of the Core. He held a power he could contain better than Astrans themselves. A power that was temporary, something he could return to its rightful owner, Yuna.
“Are you coming or not?” he asked.
“No one else will protect your stubborn ass.”
He looked at her sidelong and smiled weakly. “Good. Let’s go.”
The tunnel entrance was partially blocked by wooden boards and fallen rocks. As two guards pried the boards away, Elian waited with Rhielle. He looked out at the sea as dark clouds billowed overhead.
“How’s your hand?” Rhielle asked.
Elian flexed the fingers on his right hand and winced. “It’s fine.”
“Think it’ll rain while we’re in there?” she asked.
He gave a tired laugh. “Don’t add another worry to my mind, Elle.”
“Are you going to be all right to do this? You’ve twisted your glove inside out.”
When she nodded at his leather glove, Elian cleared his throat and pulled it back on. “I’m fine. The sooner we get in and find them, the sooner we can leave.”
Rhielle picked up a small, round shell in the sand and showed it to Elian. Its smooth purple surface spiraled around from the center to the outside.
“Is this supposed to make me feel better?” He cocked an eyebrow.
“Of course. It’s good luck to find a wholesome shell that smooth.” She opened his hand and placed it in his palm, then closed his fingers over it.
When their eyes met, he smiled crookedly. He gazed at her for longer than he should have, and she turned away nervously.
The chill that had gripped his heart before suddenly melted.
“What is it that makes you so loyal to the Legion?” she asked. “I admire it, but I don’t think I could ever be as determined as you.”
“Well.” He looked back at the guards, who were almost done prying away the wood from the tunnel entrance. “It’s more than that. The Legion wants Yuna freed. I’ve always . . . dreamed of being the one to free her from her tomb. And with it, the Cleansings could stop, or at least be pushed back until the children are old enough to understand and endure it better.”
Silence fell between them, save for the gentle lapping of the waves.
“It was one child, you know.” Rhielle cocked her head at him.
“Anna was more than just a child.” His thumb rubbed at the bracelet through his sleeve. The wind picked up, causing Elian to narrow his blue eyes.
The guards waved Elian and Rhielle over.
Elian looked at them. “I’ll try to make this quick, but I need you to stay here no matter what your commander says. Understood?”
The taller of the two guards nodded. “Understood, my liege. Watch your step inside. It goes down.”
With that, Elian and Rhielle made their way over a pile of rocks and descended down a slope into the tunnel. They inched their way along carefully. At the bottom, Elian grabbed Rhielle’s hand as she jumped off the last part of the slope.
He did not want to let go now that they were within the dark confines of the cave. Luckily, Rhielle squeezed his
left hand before she drew out the lantern Commander Rolin had given them.
She held it up between them. “It’s just a cave.”
He exhaled a breath of air and looked ahead, his heart pounding. “Right, and Owen is just an ordinary Astran.”
Chapter 28
When Owen woke, he first saw the other side of the tunnel illuminated in blue light. The roots of plants took shape on the ground and climbed the wall, a few vines curling as they poked through a small hole in the ceiling. Finding himself lying against Colt’s shoulder, he eased himself up and looked at his companion.
Scratches and bruises covered Colt’s face. Owen’s heart sank at the sight, but at least he had not been heavily injured.
As he moved, Owen winced as a sharp pain shot down the side of his neck. “Ow, that hurts,” he said, rubbing at the muscles in his neck.
Colt jerked awake at the sound of his voice and looked around. Wiping his mouth, he popped his back. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. A bit sore, is all.”
“You two are annoying when you sleep,” Gilda said, leaning against the other wall. Though light filtered through the cracks in the ceiling, it was still very dim. Her cheek was smeared with dried blood and dirt. “The oaf mutters, and you snore.”
“Are you going to stop calling me that, or are you going to keep being petty?” Colt asked.
Gilda shrugged. “You have a bit of drool there on your chin. I believe it’s dried in your beard hair.”
Colt wiped a rough hand across his face and growled as he got to his feet. “Fuck is Brom?”
“Scouting ahead. He should be back soon, but he told us to leave should he be longer than twenty minutes.”
“Has it been that long?” Owen asked.
“No doubt. We should probably head on now.”
They got to their feet quickly and walked down the passage. Dim light broke through crevices and holes above.
When Owen looked at Gilda, guilt washed over him. “Gilda, you didn’t have to come after us.”
“I know,” she replied.
Beyond the Core (The Starborn Series Book 1) Page 33