“Who is she?” Owen demanded.
Amias stepped forward. “I’ll take care of this,” he muttered.
“Not another step, Amias,” the woman started, halting her horse.
In response, Amias stopped and held up his hands.
“By order of the Legion, you will be apprehended and confined within Alacor for treason,” she said.
Owen narrowed his eyes. He knew his friend was wanted, though he had not known what for.
“We can work something out,” Amias started.
The woman fixed her eyes on him. “It’s too late for that. You chose to run like a coward. Now stand down, or I’ll use force.”
“I doubt you have it in you, Rhielle. You were always such a charming pupil. Or has too much time spent with Wielders changed you that much?”
She pursed her lips. “This isn’t about me. What did you expect? That you’d drop your allegiance to the Legion and escape without trial?”
“He’s not going anywhere,” Colt piped up, drawing out his blade as he stood before Amias.
The woman pulled back, looking hesitant for a moment, but then she pulled a star-shaped weapon out from her belt. “You’re a fool to protect him. Anyone who defends him will be brought in as well. This is your final warning.”
Several more seconds passed, and still Colt did not lower his blade. Owen’s hand went to the hilt of his dagger, but he did not draw it out. He swallowed hard. He did not want to hurt this woman, but he also did not want her to take Amias, no matter how angry he was at him.
“Stand down!” she said.
“No.” Colt’s face was smug.
The woman shook her head. The steel in her hand glinted in the light as she raised it, and then a sudden rush of air flew between them all.
“Shit!” Colt yelled out as he staggered back. A small, sharp star punctured his leg through the fabric of his trousers. “Not gonna lie, didn’t think you’d have it in you.” He seethed.
Owen’s heart beat wildly as he looked from Colt’s wound to the woman. When he saw her draw out another star, Owen put up his hands. “Wait, wait!”
The woman did not listen to him, and instead threw another star at Amias, which grazed him. Colt tried to get his bow around while leaning away from his injured leg.
Despite the situation, Amias did not draw his dirk. He seemed hesitant, almost willing to go with the woman. Glancing at her horse, Owen reached out his hand and focused on the tail. Using his power, as he had with the nut, he felt for the animal’s tail and mentally tugged it.
The horse whinnied and reared back in response. The woman grabbed the reins to try to hold on, but she fell to the ground with a yelp.
Owen attempted to console the animal, though the bulk of the mare frightened him. Colt tore the star from his leg with a loud growl, then limped up to the horse, grabbing the reins and whispering to the animal to calm it.
When Amias approached the woman, she got to her feet quickly, a knife in her hands. Her eyes darted from Colt to Amias. Her chin was bloodied from where she had landed in the dirt and she winced as she backed away from them. “You’ll regret this, Amias!”
“You’re not in a very good position to be making threats,” Colt said.
“Rhielle,” Amias cut in. “We can work this out.”
“How do you want this to end?” She scowled. “If anyone protecting you dies, it’s their blood on your hands. How much more are you willing to shed for yourself?”
Owen stiffened.
“You can leave right now,” Rhielle continued. “All you have to do is come with me, and they’ll be spared.” She looked at Colt. “How much is he paying you to protect him? I can give you good money for him and then send you both on your way.”
“So far I’ve done a damn good job at keeping him safe, and I intend to keep it that way,” Colt replied.
Their group was at an advantage. They could kill this woman now if they wanted to and continue their journey. Only Owen hadn’t the heart to do it, and Amias seemed hesitant.
Owen did not know this woman, but she worked for the Legion. As he searched deep within her, feeling her energy, he sensed something good there. His chest burned, his mind racing as the tension between them all thickened.
Then, as quick as lightning, Colt lunged forward. He grabbed her arm and twisted it until the knife fell from her hands. She growled in agitation, but Owen was surprised by how easily she gave in. It was as if she was allowing Amias to get away.
Owen’s breath was ragged. He watched as Amias tied the woman’s wrists with rope. She tried to fight him off, but they managed to tie her to a tree.
“Now what?” Colt asked. “Spare her?”
“Yes.” Amias looked at Owen. “She isn’t my enemy.”
Something in Rhielle’s eyes softened. “Elian is one step behind me. Once he sees what’s happened, he won’t hesitate in coming to find you. Don’t say I didn’t give you a chance.”
Owen narrowed his eyes. She is letting him get away.
“If this Elian is as sloppy as you are, we don’t have much to worry about,” Colt said.
She sneered. “Clearly, I’m outnumbered here.”
A shiver ran down Owen’s spine as he picked up her fallen star. He took it with him, his stomach churning in response to their scuffle.
Colt searched Rhielle for anything else he could find.
“There are no weapons there,” she scolded as he patted along her chest.
“Trust me, you ain’t got anything I want besides a blade.” He smirked when he found another small throwing star tucked into a pocket on the side of her vest.
Once they retrieved her weapons, they sent her horse fleeing.
“I didn’t intend for it to be this way, Rhielle,” Amias said. “If you have any compassion, I ask you to find it for me.”
Her jaw tightened. “I gave you a second chance to come with me. At least I’m not a murderer.”
Amias nodded and walked away.
Owen’s heart beat quickly as he followed behind Amias. They hiked off the path until she was out of sight.
He was afraid of being caught now. They had just tied up someone who worked for the Legion. Amias was already in trouble, and now he and Colt were involved as well.
When they headed down a hill strewn with leaves, Owen glanced at Amias, brows furrowed in fear.
“Murderer?” he whispered, limbs shaking.
Shame overtook Amias’s features. “I can explain.”
Owen wavered, trying to will away the sick feeling in his stomach.
Amias had murdered someone. It shook him to his core, just as it had when Colt killed Harv.
He looked up and found Amias staring at him apathetically.
“You murdered someone. That’s why you’re wanted?”
“We need to get as far away from here as we can,” Amias told him. “Then we’ll talk.”
“I don’t want to talk to you.” Owen took in a shaky breath and walked away.
It was afternoon when they emerged from the woods. Hoping to throw off their enemies, they decided to stay where travel was scarce. They stopped to rest in a field where a lone oak stood tall and wide. To the east, farmland ran for miles, and a lake formed a stream down rocky slopes to the south, where Brookhaven’s dangerous cliffs paved the rest of the way downward.
The sharp wind rippled the green grass with a gentle sound. Taking shelter beneath the oak, Colt patched the wound in his leg.
Owen glanced up at the tree and placed his hand upon the bark. Above him, leaves of gold and amber rustled against the light. Settling himself down within the curve of the root, he pulled his collar tight against the chill. The winds of autumn were high. Before long, snow would blanket the land. He only hoped they would have a place to stay by then.
He glanced at Amias, who busied himself laying out their provisions to eat; a few apples, salted beef, bread, blackberry preserves, and walnuts. They would have enough to last them until Edgewater, unless the
y met delays.
As they ate, silence overwhelmed them. Owen felt as though he would burst unless someone spoke up, especially with the tension that had followed them after the run-in with Rhielle. He knew he had caused the tightness in the air between them, but he was too prideful to be the one to break it.
“Ah, Brookland Heights,” Amias said with a smile. “One of my favorite views of Milarc. Your mother brought you here, once, to see the waterfall near the gorge. You were barely old enough to walk. I’m sure you don’t remember.”
Owen’s chest tightened as he thought of his mother. Images of her brown hair and warm face flowed through his mind, just as they had in his dream the other day. It pained him to think of her. Only ten years parted him from her. He swallowed the lump in his throat before it had time to grow.
“I don’t remember,” he finally said. Then he turned a sharp eye toward Amias and asked, “What was your reason for . . . killing someone?” There would be no holding back from now on.
For a moment, Amias was quiet. Then he nodded, avoiding Owen’s eyes. “I leaked some important information. Someone I thought was a friend, someone who I shared secrets with—they betrayed me. It wasn’t something I wanted to—” He broke off and sighed, squeezing the corners of his eyes with his fingers. “I had to.”
Owen leaned forward, his eyes serious. “Why didn’t you just tell me what happened from the start?”
“I didn’t want to alarm you.”
Owen pursed his lips and shook his head.
“There’s a lot you need to know. I didn’t know how to tell you, and some of it I’m unsure of.”
“I can’t trust anything you say. All these years I knew you hid me from the Legion. But then you lied to me about my father and put us in danger by failing to tell me you murdered someone. And all for what? To keep me safe?”
When Amias opened his mouth to talk, Owen put up his hand and got to his feet. He strode down the hill, the ache forming once more in his throat. His watery eyes stung in the lingering cold, but it felt good to release his frustration. He found comfort near a wall of stacked rocks that marked the edge of the farm in the distance. In the field beyond, several sheep grazed, paying him no attention.
He sat on the wall and watched them graze. When he closed his eyes, he thought of his mother again, and a single tear spilled down his cheek. Owen’s heart was still fragile. He had never gotten over her death.
It was my fault, he thought. I was afraid of her sickness and let others tend to her. I should have been the one to take care of her. It should have been me that died instead.
He opened his eyes when he felt Colt’s familiar energy approach. The man’s lemony appeal flowed sweeter now. He wiped his cheeks and nose quickly before his companion came up beside him, maintaining a straight face as he looked ahead.
“Nice view,” Colt said, sitting beside him, his back to the sheep.
Owen looked away and said nothing. He did not want the older man to see his tear-stricken cheeks.
“Avathon is charming, but not like Milarc. I’ve never been to a country so . . . green.”
Owen cleared his throat. “It is.”
“It’s quiet. There’s an air about the people here that’s different. They mind their own business, for the most part.” Colt chuckled and waved up at Amias, who looked down at them with a shadowed face. “Ah, old man’s so uptight.”
“I don’t want to talk about him.” Owen thought back to Rhielle, and how tense things had gotten between her and Colt. “I thought you were going to kill that woman. I was afraid there for a second.”
“I considered it. But, you know, I’m not too fond of being on the Legion’s wanted list.”
Keeping his eyes on the sheep, Owen said, “Would you have killed her, had she not worked for the Legion?”
“Probably. But I, uh, have a clean record when it comes to killing women. I was hoping for more of a challenge. Maybe next time.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“Well, is it working?”
Owen let out a small laugh and shook his head. “So how many people have you killed, then?”
“Isn’t that akin to asking a woman how old she is, or something?”
“I don’t think so.”
Colt sighed heavily and their eyes met. “A few, or more, if you include the guy in Birchwood. And they all had it coming, so it doesn’t matter.”
“You didn’t seem to show any remorse for killing Harv.”
When Colt went quiet, Owen ventured to open his mind to feel for his energy. Shame surrounded Colt, followed by a wave of confidence.
“It’s not like I’m happy about it.” Colt looked at the ground. “If I hadn’t killed him, you wouldn’t be standing here. I don’t regret it, but I also don’t want to talk about it.”
Owen bit his lip, understanding now why Colt had been so short and cold with Brom. He was ashamed. Feeling soft for him, Owen glanced at Colt. For the first time, he noticed the deep brown around his pupil and the green on the outside. It reminded him of a candied apple.
Colt cleared his throat and looked down. “How’s your arm holding up?”
“It’s fine. And your leg?”
“It’ll heal. If that bitch comes back, I’ll give her a dose of her own medicine.” Colt held up one of the throwing stars between his knuckles.
“Right. You two seemed to have struck a nerve with each other. Mind if I make bets on who will win?”
“You little prick.”
They both shared a laugh.
Silence fell between them. The sky was a deep and vivid blue, and the sun was warm despite the chilly wind. A few crickets chirped nearby, and the sound of the sheep bleating drifted through the air. Owen’s mind was wide open. He let in all the energies around him.
Placing a hand on the hilt of his dagger, he rubbed it and focused ahead. During that quiet moment, a faint whisper drifted on the air. The more he tuned himself into it, the more audible it became.
“Can you hear me? You’ve a strong power.”
Owen shut his eyes tightly, along with his mind. It seemed that every time he opened it, shadows or voices surrounded him. He swayed, his head swirling.
Colt grabbed hold of his arm and steadied him. “All right?”
“I just keep hearing things.” He looked down, hoping Colt did not think him mad. “I keep hearing a voice.”
“A voice? Sure you didn’t just doze off?”
“I—I don’t know. Probably.”
“Hey,” Colt said. “Your nose, mate.”
Owen’s hand flew to his nose. Blood stained his fingertips. He looked again at the horizon and trembled.
“Owen?” There was concern in Colt’s voice.
“I’m fine.” He wiped his nose on his sleeve. “Let’s go back up.”
He said nothing more on the matter as they walked up to the oak, where he sat against the tree to clear his mind.
Amias cleared his throat. “Colt, I need to speak with you for a moment.”
As they walked away, Owen opened his eyes a sliver and watched them. He wondered what Amias could be telling the other man, and he was irritated at being cut out from the conversation, but he also was too full of frustration to worry about it. Instead, he held tightly onto the hilt of his dagger.
That evening, as the sky was alight with the orange fire of the sun, they trekked along the rocky slopes of Torke. To their left was the gorge Amias had spoken of. Water flowed along a series of rocks that descended down into the gorge, continuing the stream into the valley below. Owen tried to use his senses to scour the area for another presence, but his heavy mind made it impossible. Ahead of them, Colt walked with a slight limp.
Crickets started up their steady chorus for the night. Owen pulled up his hood. He looked at Amias and saw panic in his face, as if they might meet danger at any moment.
“Maybe we should stop to rest later tonight,” Owen said as he came up to him. “You’ll need some sleep.
”
“I won’t be able to snooze like you and Colt. My mind is too full right now,” Amias replied, looking ahead as he walked.
Owen did not have to open his mind to feel the sadness exuding from his friend. Remorse dug deep into his gut. He was ready to talk to him now. “I know I said I couldn’t trust you, Amias,” he said, “but I also know you mean well. Whatever happened in Alacor, I’m trying to understand. I know you have your reasons.”
“No, you’re right, Owen. I can’t help but feel regretful. I’ve put you both in danger.”
“Just tell me everything. I’ve stuck with you this long. Whatever reason you had, it can’t be so bad that it would truly turn me away from you.”
Amias looked at him, his face weary. “There was a time when I could not understand a parent’s love for their child. Then I met you. Despite what I’m about to tell you, I want you to know that I could not love you as anything other than a father, and yet I’m ashamed for the things I’ve done to keep you safe, ashamed for how I came to be at this point.”
“Ashamed of what?”
“There is a reason I worked so long as a scholar in Alacor, for why I moved you so often. Emberton was such a quiet place. It was a perfect spot to hide away someone who wasn’t marked.” Amias’s gaze darkened. “But I wasn’t just a scholar. The Legion is growing more every day, gaining more soldiers, Wielders, advisors. There are people waiting to join the council’s list when the masters die. They have people in Milarc and Avathon following, even Astrans begging to be Cleansed. They’ve taken control in almost every continent.” Amias looked at him seriously. “They’re not just after Astrans. They’re after the descendants of Yuna herself—those who are Starborn.”
“We talked about this before,” Owen said, his shoulders slumping. “You think they’re really out there?”
“I believe they may be. The Legion masters in Milarc and Avathon have conspired to find the Starborns. For this reason, they won’t abandon their Cleansing ritual, unlike Yvora—the Wielders in that country kill Astrans without Cleansing. They no longer care about the legend of Yuna. And Arcmere is at odds with the Legion. The people there have destroyed some of Yuna’s temples. The Alliance is aiming at Legion bases. They’ve taken over a few in Avathon. So far the council in Milarc doesn’t see them as a threat, but they’re growing stronger. They have spies everywhere, assassins, disguised rogues who pass as pig farmers and even Legion soldiers. It’s my main goal to get you to them. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Beyond the Core (The Starborn Series Book 1) Page 19
