Her father’s gaze flickered away from her as another battle cry drifted out of the woods. It was the sound of the Unfaih warriors dropping from their positions in the trees, where they had been waiting for the signal to attack. They came crashing into the clearing, swarming towards the human soldiers, surrounding them like an overpowering wave.
She could hear the clang of metal and the rapping sound of gunfire, but she could also hear the screams of men falling and an array of cries to retreat. The battlefield was bedlam as some soldiers tried to run away, while others continued to fight.
Sloane knew that the battle began and ended with the man lying at her feet though.
‘I said, surrender,’ she repeated, pressing the tip of her sword against his skin.
Her father looked back at her, a smug smile tugging at the corner of his lips. ‘Have you already forgotten the one lesson I taught you?’ he asked. ‘Never surrender.’
Before Sloane could react, her father slammed his arm up against her sword to push it away. He dove to the side and scrambled towards his gun, which was on the ground several feet away.
The Captain moved fast, but he wasn’t nearly quick enough to get to the gun before Rhyn tackled him hard into the ground. The Captain tried to squirm away, but Rhyn pounded his head against the dirt again for good measure.
Two Unfaih warriors quickly leapt to Rhyn’s aid. They grabbed the Captain by his arms and dragged him back towards Sloane. The warriors came to a stop in front of her and dropped her father at her feet. Sloane wasn’t looking at him though. Her focus was on the human army who were now in full retreat.
Despite their numbers, her people hadn’t lasted long against the Unfaih warriors. It only proved to her how stupid her brother was for believing the humans could defend themselves against the Brakys if the creatures were to attack the camp. She couldn’t bring herself to celebrate the victory though.
‘See that they leave,’ Rhyn ordered several of the warriors who were standing nearby. The Unfaih nodded and proceeded to follow the humans from the clearing and into the trees to make sure they did not return.
‘Are you going to keep me as a pet?’ the Captain slurred, slowly lifting his gaze to look up at Sloane and Rhyn, who both stood over him.
Before he could utter another word, Rhyn slammed his fist into the Captain’s jaw. ‘Be careful human; you may have been a leader to your people, but you are nothing to me.’
Rhyn turned to his warriors and nodded at the Captain and Ash. ‘Take them to the dungeons,’ he growled.
The Unfaih responded immediately, roughly grabbing Sloane’s father and brother and dragging them towards the rift.
Sloane dropped the sword she carried and walked over to where she had knocked Ash to the floor. The sword that Rhyn had given her was lying in the grass, the glinting blue metal still shining despite the ash and dirt that covered it. She picked it off the ground and gripped it tightly, never wanting to let go of it again.
As she stared at the weapon, shock replaced the anger that had been teeming beneath her skin throughout the battle. She crumbled to her knees, leaning on the sword as she tried not to fall to pieces. She could still feel the energy of the Oblivion Stone lightly throbbing through her, but she also felt weak and exhausted after the fight, and everything that had happened suddenly seemed to be overwhelming her.
A pair of warm arms wrapped around her and pulled her into an embrace. She didn’t need to look up to know it was Rhyn. He didn’t say a word as he held her closely, and she drew from his strength like it was the only thing that could keep her from breaking down.
She stayed cocooned in his warmth for a few moments before she finally looked up at him. Tears stained Sloane’s cheeks, and her body felt shattered. It was like every exhausted piece of her was aching with sorrow. But she had survived, and she had stopped the humans from doing further damage to the Unfaih people she cared about so much.
‘It’s not over, is it?’ she murmured.
Rhyn gave a sad shake of his head. ‘No, but I don’t think they’ll be coming after us again anytime soon.’
Sloane sighed as she turned away from Rhyn and stared into the trees. ‘They’re still at risk from the Brakys,’ she said.
‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘But that’s a problem we’ll face on another day.’
He reached over and gently touched her chin, turning her head until she faced him again. ‘Should we go home?’ he asked.
Her heart warmed as she looked back into his eyes. She liked the way he had spoken about his world as though it belonged to both of them; like she was as much a part of it as he was. It had been a long time since she had felt like she had a home, but when Rhyn said the words aloud, they felt right. His home was also hers.
She nodded and allowed him to help her to her feet. She paused to survey the clearing one last time before she left. There were far too many lifeless bodies resting on the battlefield. The Unfaih may have won the battle, but the cost felt far too high for both sides involved.
They were going to need to find a way to stop the madness once and for all. And Sloane had a feeling that the solution rested in the green glowing stone around her neck.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Daylight had dawned on Ellysia, but the thick layer of clouds that extended to the horizon cast a canopy of darkness across the icy world. Deep rumbles of thunder echoed across the plateau, and every so often white flashes of lightning briefly lit up the dark pockets of sky overhead. It seemed to Sloane that even the Unfaih world was in mourning for the losses they’d just endured.
There was a heavy silence saturating the air as Sloane and Rhyn walked past the large wooden gates and into the castellum. Injured warriors and dead bodies filled the courtyard, and yet there were no shouts of pain or groans of discomfort. Every injured Unfaih fighter was stoic despite their suffering, and Sloane admired their incredible bravery and strength.
Her heart ached as she took in the scale of the devastation her father had caused. There were so many injured warriors, and far too many had been lost. She spotted Orelle tending to the wounds of fighters in the distance, and she was glad to see Jack and Rowe were both helping.
Her sister’s face was grave and focused on the task at hand. It was good that she was able to assist in healing the wounded warriors, and Sloane hoped it would help repair a little of the remorse she knew Rowe was suffering from.
Sensing Sloane’s gaze, Rowe looked up, and her eyes widened when she caught sight of her sister. Rowe gave her a small, sad wave and Sloane gestured in return. She thought about walking over to her sister, but Sloane felt oddly attached to Rhyn’s hand, which gripped hers tightly, and she couldn’t bring herself to leave him.
Rowe turned back to her work, while Sloane continued to survey the damage. She was surprised to see Vas walking between the warriors, helping with their injuries wherever he could. He looked completely drained, but that didn’t stop him from moving from one fighter to the next.
Her first impression of Rhyn’s father was that he was a hard man. But there was softness in the way he spoke with the injured, and Sloane could see how much he cared about his warriors. It looked like Vas would do anything for the people he led, and Sloane could see a glimpse of what made Rhyn so loyal and strong.
‘We should help,’ Sloane said, taking a step closer to the wounded. But Rhyn held fast to her hand and tugged her to a stop.
‘You’ve done enough today,’ he said. ‘You can barely stand.’
She glanced uneasily at the injured warriors who lay around the courtyard. ‘But they need us…’
‘Rhyn’s right; you’ve done more than enough,’ Kai said, as he came in through the open gates behind them.
She turned to look at him and let out a relieved breath as she saw that he was okay. He appeared battle worn and weary, but as Sloane checked him over, she could see no sign of injury.
‘It worked,’ he said, nodding at the Oblivion Stone, which hung around her neck.
Sloane rested a hand against the stone and felt the strange pulsing sensation spread from her chest to her palm. It felt like the stone was alive whenever she touched it, and a part of her didn’t want to let it go. She slowly eased the stone from around her neck though and held it out to Kai. ‘Well, it’s certainly not broken, that’s for sure.’
A strange hollow feeling developed in the pit of her stomach as she dropped the stone into his hand, and her body seemed to yearn for its return. She tried to shake the feeling and was suddenly somewhat relieved to be rid of the stone. There was no denying the stone’s power, and Sloane was concerned about what could happen to her if she continued to wear it.
‘Do you think Joran knew it could protect us the way it did?’ she asked, drawing her gaze away from the stone to look at Kai.
He rolled the stone around in one hand, studying it closely. It no longer shone the way it had immediately after the explosions, or when Sloane was fighting, but it still emitted a dull glow. ‘I don’t know,’ he replied. ‘Maybe he did, but he seemed to believe it was dead and broken.’
Kai looked around before he placed the stone in his pocket. ‘It’s clearly a powerful tool. I’m going to find somewhere safe to keep it. I don’t want it getting into the wrong hands.’
‘It already is,’ Sloane replied. ‘The Brakys have their own fragment. We need to work out what they plan to use it for.’
‘Leave it to me,’ Kai said before Sloane could say anything else. ‘I will keep it safe and study it further, so we know what we are dealing with. You should rest.’
Kai turned away before she could protest and started walking towards the castellum. Sloane watched him go, trying to ignore the chills that had suddenly raised the hairs on her arms.
The fragment couldn’t close a rift on its own, but it was still incredibly powerful. Sloane wasn’t sure if a place existed that was safe enough to store it, and she worried about Kai toying with such a mysterious object.
‘We should find you somewhere to rest,’ Rhyn encouraged Sloane, attempting to guide her towards the castellum.
Sloane stood her ground though, refusing to move with him. ‘I don’t want to rest. I want to see my father.’
They may have won the battle, but she still needed to face the man who had started it. She didn’t understand how he knew so much about the world of the Unfaih, and she was determined to find out where he had heard of the Liftsal and why he wanted it.
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ Rhyn replied, fighting off a frown. ‘You should wait until you’ve recovered from today.’
‘I can’t,’ she replied. ‘There are too many unanswered questions, and I don’t like the Captain being here while he still hides the answers, even if he is a hostage.’
‘Fine, but I’m coming with you.’
She wanted to say that she needed to face her father alone, but she was too tired to argue. She simply nodded and allowed Rhyn to lead the way.
They entered the castellum and started heading towards one of the sections of the great ice castle that Sloane had never been in before. They made their way to the far side of the vast building, where the frozen walls met the tall mountainside behind it. The castellum was usually so light and bright, but the unusual darkness outside had dimmed the corridors within.
Sloane was impatient to meet her father, but their progress through the corridors was slow. There were so many of the evacuated villagers roaming the castle, and it seemed like everyone wished to stop Rhyn and talk with him. Some wanted to thank him, while others needed reassurance that they were safe. Rhyn was far more polite than Sloane, who would have just ignored them all, and spoke graciously to each Unfaih before moving on.
Their pace seemed to increase as they descended deeper into the castellum, where fewer villagers were wandering the halls. Rhyn paused when they finally reached a set of stairs that dropped down to a lower level and took a deep breath.
‘This is the dungeon,’ he murmured to Sloane before he started down the stairs.
Darkness stemmed from the base of the steps, and it grew colder as they followed them downwards. Sloane pushed down a shiver as the staircase ended and a long dark corridor met her gaze. The walls around her were fortified by metal, and the only light that entered the dungeon spilt down the steps from the floor above.
Rhyn took the lead as they walked down the corridor. There was a door at the end of it, which was slightly ajar. Rhyn broke into a jog, and when he reached the door, he wrenched it open fully. On the other side of the doorway, Sloane could see an Unfaih guard lying unconscious on the floor.
Her stomach plummeted at the sight, but Rhyn didn’t pause as he continued through the doorway. Sloane slowly pulled her gaze from the motionless Unfaih guard and followed Rhyn into the room.
It was almost completely dark, and the icy chill in the air caused Sloane’s breath to come out in visible puffs of steam. Barred cells lined the walls of the room, and Rhyn strode down past them, barely pausing as he checked inside each one. Sloane jogged to catch up with him and reached him just as he arrived at the last cell.
Rhyn’s back became rigid, and as Sloane followed his gaze down through the darkness, she noticed Ash’s white blonde hair on the other side of the bars. The darkness pervading the cell almost obscured him from sight, but there was no mistaking it was him lying on the ground. Sloane turned her eyes to each of the other cells in the dungeon, but not one of them held her father.
Dread pooled in her stomach and her heart filled with clawing anxiety. Her father was loose in the castellum, and she knew exactly where he was heading.
Rhyn grabbed the bars of Ash’s cell, shaking them furiously. ‘Tell me where he is!’ he growled. But Ash was still unconscious and didn’t even stir at the sound of Rhyn’s voice.
Sloane grabbed Rhyn’s arm and tugged on it. ‘Come on. We both know what he’s after. We don’t have time for this.’
Rhyn’s eyes flickered to Sloane and filled with alarm at her words. ‘He’ll never find the Liftsal caves. It was only luck that you found them on your own before.’
‘Do you want to take that chance?’
He didn’t pause to consider her question as he started to run back towards the dungeon entrance. The two of them raced down the long dark corridor and leapt up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
They were up in the castellum in a flash and flew down the corridors towards the Liftsal caves as fast as they could. Sloane rounded a corner at Rhyn’s side, but as she did, she barrelled into someone coming in the other direction. They both toppled to the ground and landed in a heap. Before Sloane could look to see who she had crashed into, the person grasped her arm tightly.
‘Help, Sloane,’ an Unfaih woman’s voice gasped at her.
‘Vilya…’ Sloane froze as she looked at the woman lying on the floor next to her. Vilya was clutching her belly, and blood was pooling around her hands. Rhyn dropped to her side, his two hands placing pressure over Vilya’s own.
‘What happened?’ he asked her.
‘The human attacked us,’ Vilya choked out, tears slowly staining her cheeks. ‘He has Emha; please help her.’
Sloane’s heart skipped a beat as she heard the words, but she felt completely torn. Emha needed her and yet she couldn’t leave the girl’s mother bleeding in the corridor alone.
‘We need some help here,’ she shouted, desperately hoping someone would come to their aid. She couldn’t hear any feet racing towards them though, and no one answered her call.
Sloane moved to Vilya’s side and placed her hands down on top of Rhyn’s. ‘Go and find Emha,’ she pleaded. ‘You’re faster than me. You’re her best chance.’
Rhyn hesitated as he looked down into Vilya’s eyes.
‘Go!’ Sloane urged.
Rhyn didn’t need pressing again. He slid his hands out from underneath Sloane’s and took off at a run down the corridor. The sound of his footsteps gradually disappeared, and the only noise that remained came from Vilya’s labo
ured breaths. Sloane looked down at the dying woman as she tried to figure out what to do. Vilya needed help, but it wasn’t help Sloane could give.
‘You’re going to be okay,’ Sloane said.
But Vilya merely grunted in pain, her eyes slowly opening and closing. Sloane could tell the Unfaih woman’s life was slipping away, but she had no way to heal her.
‘Help! We need some help!’ Sloane shouted, her voice breaking as she continued to scream. She frantically looked up and down the corridor, desperately hoping someone would answer. She had to make sure Emha was okay, but she felt hopeless as she struggled to decide what to do.
In the distance, Sloane thought she could hear the repetitive slap of running feet, and suddenly two Unfaih women rushed around the corner, almost tripping over Sloane who knelt by Vilya.
‘She’s been stabbed,’ Sloane said, both relief and fear in her voice. The women fell to their knees next to her, quickly diving into action as they tore strips from their clothes and waved Sloane’s hands away so they could press the material against the wound.
One of them was opening a vial of glittering water, but Sloane worried that even the Liftsal wouldn’t cure Vilya now. The woman had never liked her, but Sloane felt heartbroken at the thought of her not surviving. She watched the women as they applied some of the Liftsal to Vilya’s wound, and Sloane prayed that she would recover. There was nothing more she could do.
There was one Unfaih who still needed her help though, and Sloane knew Vilya would want her to go after Emha. She thanked the women, scrambled to her feet again and took off towards the caves.
She passed the body of a dead Unfaih guard as she ran and tried to ignore the fear that was throbbing in her heart. She wasn’t sure if Rhyn had found her father already, but deep inside her gut, Sloane felt like something terrible was going to happen if she didn’t get to the Liftsal caves soon.
The Oblivion Stone (The Liftsal Guardians Book 3) Page 25
