Paladin Rising (The Paladin's Curse Book 1)
Page 21
My hands, slick with my own blood, fumble for the little package still hidden deep in my pocket, knowing what I have to do before Garvien has a chance to get away.
My movements are slow and erratic, each breath sends shards of glass through my lungs and I have to force myself not to focus on the blinding pain tearing away at my body with delightful glee and blink away the fog hovering in the distance so I don’t drop my precious bundle.
All around me I can hear people demanding answers, their voices nothing but noise, only Zaneth’s words, spoken in a hollow, deadpanned voice, manage to reach me in the deep, dark hole to where I’m rapidly sinking. Araton leaps into action, screaming orders, his sense of urgency matching my own and suddenly the castle whirls into chaos, making my head spin, knocking me off of my unsteady feet.
Cold hands pull at me, trying to assess my injuries and I bark at them, a primitive snarl firing from my lips until they finally back off, leaving me alone in my blood-soaked rampage.
At the edge of my vision, I can see Calasis and Ellestra being held back by their guards, desperate to get to my side, their faces exposing their horror at the extent of my injuries.
I push their images from my mind, I don’t need them, don’t want them near me. All I do is drag people down to hell with me and I refuse to do that to them too.
Finally the coveted powder tumbles into my trembling hand and I drag myself back up, swaying with the rollercoaster in my stomach. I take a few short, steadying breaths as I try so hard to conjure images of my yard, to start the bond that will transport me back to Blay’s side.
But every time I close my eyes, all that fills my mind is Blay, but not the beautiful, aloof Blay that I’ve come to admire, maybe even love, if I’m honest. No, the only images that play on an endless reel behind my blurred eyes are of Blay’s battered body, blood oozing from his split skin down his swollen face, his mouth twisted in pain, hidden only by pure determination, his eyes saying a final goodbye, as we left him there to his ungodly fate.
My shoulders heave with sobs, each deeply drawn breath peeling back the edges of my wound, making the blue lights have to start their healing process from scratch, yet again.
Suddenly the blood-soaked powder falls from my hands, no matter how desperately I try to hold it tightly in my aching fist, as someone pulls me back from the slippery edge of my sanity that I’m only too willing to jump from.
Karadese holds me in her arms as I weep, breaking down far worse than I have since the day Dad died. My emotions are on overload, unbelieving and unaccepting of what I’ve managed to do this time.
Anger warms my rapidly cooling body as I struggle to clear my mind. Nothing makes sense, I don’t know why they are not making another portal, why they are not all fired up, ready to battle, and ripping through the Realms, storming to Earth to rescue Blay.
“Let me go!” I struggle in her embrace as she lowers me to the floor, but my body is now too weak from blood loss to even fight Karadese off.
“Calm down, Rayna,” her tone is soothing, like a mother cooing to her distraught baby, her calmness is at odds with the fear hiding deep in her eyes from losing her first born son.
“I need to go back! I have to save him.” My words are cut off as ravaging coughs tear from my lungs, forcing blood from my mouth to stain my lips.
I’m dying. Again. And this time, it’s nothing less than I deserve.
My healing powers aren’t strong enough to save me, and truly I hope that they don’t. I can’t live with myself knowing that I’m the reason Blay is dead. I might as well have killed him with my own two hands – what difference does it matter now?
He will suffer the same fate I would have, before finally being executed in a cruel ceremonial death for all to see. A death that will be drawn out, nothing quick or kind. It’s all about the show with these monsters – but it will certainly take time. That very thought propels my body forward with renewed energy.
“I’ve got to save him! There’s still time! They will kill him but not before Garvien has had his fun!”
Karadese goes rigid, her glassy eyes training in on mine, her lips pulled tight into a thin, red cut line.
“Garvien? Are you sure it was Garvien that took Blay?” her words silence the room. Araton comes to a standstill, his own eyes widening as he awaits my answer.
“Yes, there’s no doubt that it was Garvien. He had other fighters with him, but he was in charge.” My words splutter out between grunts and moans, fighting for air as much as my aching chest will allow.
Certainly now she will understand my anguish, my reasoning as to why I have to react quickly to get Blay back before Garvien acts out his revenge on the future King of Prytora.
Her eyes lock onto Araton, an unspoken conversation crossing the short distance between them, his face growing hard while Karadese seems to come to an inescapable reality of acceptance.
She lifts her hand and the little old lady from the healing chamber places a glass into it. Without another word she presses it to my lips and I greedily force the Jalooniem sap down my blood filled throat, only too eager now to heal and return to Earth for any minuscule chance of saving the guy who has become so important to me.
“We need to get back fast,” I wince, as the woman dabs at my wound, pouring some cooling liquid across my chest that stings like hell and makes my eyes water, her sombre eyes meeting Karadese’s, her head shaking, confirming that she doesn’t like the look of my injuries.
Stuff my injuries! I don’t care about them, or the stabbing pain slicing through my chest, or the astounded look in the old lady’s eyes as they narrow, witnessing for the first time my special blue lights spreading their webbed fingers across my skin, deep into my wound and slowly healing me. None of it matters. I don’t matter. Not like Blay does.
“Karadese, they are going to hurt him. Garvien will kill him. Please, let me go back. Let me help him, I’m the only one who can now.”
And it’s true, they can all hear the resounding truth in my voice - although they don’t know why - they soon will. I’ll tell them anything and everything, expose myself completely if it means they will release me, hell, throw me at the Zantronians like I’m the sacrifice of the century, if it means that I get back to Blay and somehow pull him from their clutches.
A sad smile pulls at Karadese’s lips as she raises another glass for me to drink, forcing it into my mouth - only this one tastes different, almost sour and unpleasant.
I see it in her eyes before she says it, the agony settling in with each forceful word.
“You need to heal now, Rayna. You can’t fight when you are so close to death. My son wouldn’t want that. He sacrificed himself for you and I will not disrespect his sacrifice.”
I fight against her regardless, close to death or not – hell, especially because I’m so close to death, that seems to be my forte after all.
I try to spit out the sleep inducing liquid, only to have the deceptively strong little old lady hold my jaw tight, prying my lips apart to allow Karadese to tip the vile liquid down my throat.
“Don’t do this,” I cough, my eyes already growing weary. “Please, you don’t understand. If he dies it will all be my fault. I can’t lose him.”
My body grows weaker, heavy and resisting my commands.
Karadese stands up, stepping back as I’m lifted into the air, my aching body once again cradled in Zaneth’s arms.
With my last bit of stubborn strength, I spit at him.
“Traitor.”
Karadese’s soft hand sweeps across my face, her thumb rubbing my cheek in a gentle caress, consoling me even when she should be casting me away.
My head flops to the side as my body sinks further into the murky darkness I still desperately fight to escape from.
She leans in, her caramel scent filling my lungs, soft fuzzy warmth blurring her edges until I can barely recognise her.
My eyes blink, each time taking longer to open than the last. My final conscious vision is
of Karadese leaning over me, sorrow filling her angelic face as she whispers.
“We will save him, Rayna. He will suffer torture that you and I have never witnessed, beyond anything we can imagine, but I assure you he will not be killed.”
An unrecognisable gurgle rumbles from my throat and even though no words are spoken, I know that she understands my doubt in her statement.
“They won’t kill Blay, Rayna.” Finally she tells me the full extent of her secret. The truth, which she has hidden for so long, now leaves her quivering lips for the first time.
“They will not kill Blay. Not only is he the next in line to the Prytorian Kingdom, but he is also Garvien’s son.”
Epilogue
I hover just out of the reach of consciousness for days while my wounds heal thanks to the increased allowance of Jalooniem sap and my own mysterious inbuilt healing powers, mixed with a heavy dose of liquid tranquilisers to keep me down.
Days where I drift in a foggy land of un-relinquishing horrors and misery, anguish so strong and evil that it never once releases its tight hold on my quivering soul.
The visions that plague me are explicit and nauseating in their detail. Each one a diverse version of revulsion, as they foretell the prophecy of so many deaths and the falling of worlds, taunting me with truths and deceptions – making me question not only myself but also those around me, sitting on the edge of my world, waiting for me to escape these demons and once again join the fight.
The visions are ever changing, never pinning down exactly what is to occur, but one thing always remains the same, depicting a fate I will fight Heaven and Hell to stop – my transformation into the Zantronian Queen.
Although this time it’s not Garvien who commands the Zantronian warriors by my side, in our determined pursuit for dominance - no that fate belongs to someone much, much worse and the relentless visions are far harder to escape from.
I stand over a bloodbath of dissembled bodies, many still warm to the touch, many faces I know and have befriended, all the while Blay, my beloved King, sits atop of his throne made from the very skin of his enemies – those who were once his people - his pale lips pulled back into a menacing smile of sharpened grey teeth, his colourless eyes filled with lust as we order the feast of the sacrificed to begin.
We are, after all, the King and Queen of Zantron.
The paladin has fallen……………
Acknowledgements:
As a writer you live in a little bubble, filled with weird and whacky extremes, high emotions and crazy dreams, and we guard this land of seclusion with all our might. Sometimes, on rare occasions, we allow a very special few to join us in our isolated, crazy world, and I am lucky enough to have people who not only put up with my sugar-filled addled passions, but also encourage me along a path which is filled with niggling self-doubt; without them I know that I would have succumbed to that doubt a long time ago.
My gratitude is always first to the most important people in my life, my children. Piper and Kyan, you help me every day, you show me how to love unconditionally and you accept my craziness even if it embarrasses you relentlessly. You have given me so much by just being who you are – special and unique, filled with love and kindness and of course an unrelenting stubbornness that teaches me the upmost patience – a skill every writer must contain.
To my husband, Ricky Carnie, thank you for continuing to encourage me when I feel like giving up – your ‘don’t worry’ attitude is contagious and that is something I’m very grateful for.
To my mother, Rae Nelson, you are the best cheerleader any writer could ask for. Your continual encouragement and endless support is priceless. You take the brunt of my writer’s high emotions and listen endlessly to me prattle on about fictional dramas and somehow you become wrapped up in my characters worlds along with me, loving them just as much as I do. Thank you for always being there.
Karen Brown, right from the beginning of this novel you have been my sounding board, listening to me trying to piece together the puzzle and giving awesome suggestions along the way. This process would have been so much harder without you. Thanks for being you.
Tracy Yardley, you always manage to dig deep down into my characters, understanding them and then making me understand them on a new level too. I appreciate your perception and your deep thought when it comes to my novels, thank you.
To you, dear reader, thank you for taking a chance on me.
Note from the author:
Thank you, dear reader, for coming along on Rayna’s journey, which is far from over yet. Keep an eye out for the second book in The Paladin’s Curse Trilogy, which will be coming out soon.
If you could please spare a few moments to leave an honest review on ‘Amazon’ or ‘Goodreads’ I would greatly appreciate it. Being an indie author, it is exceedingly difficult starting out, and reviews help, not only other potential readers, but also help guide me to improve as a writer via your constructive feedback.
As previously stated I am a New Zealand author and therefore there are several spelling differences compared to American spelling, please take that into consideration whilst reading this book.
I would love to hear from you! Please come visit me at:
Facebook: Kristell Carnie
Twitter: Kristell Carnie
Thanks for your support.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Epilogue
Acknowledgements:
Note from the author: