Read The Onyx Vial (Shadows of The Nine Book 1) Online
Authors: Alexis Lampley
Chapter 35
A scream at the island's center voiced the one that lodged in Ariana’s throat.
No.
A Huntsman stalked forward, fingers stretched toward the Onyx Vial. Hunter had barely hit the ground before the man grasped his limp hand still curled around the Vial.
Was that the way around being killed?
His cackle of triumph was cut short as he paled and crumpled, lifeless, to the ground.
Every Huntsman on the island stepped back.
But Ariana rushed forward.
I have to get it before his etâme is gone
, she thought. She ran hard and fast, trying to connect her etâme to the water, using the air for assistance.
Stay alive, Hunter
, she willed him.
Hang on long enough for me to reach the Vial.
Just as she felt the cold sting of the connection with the water in her palms, she heard the Huntsmen shouting, “Stop her!”
A twang and flutter followed.
She had already ducked and rolled, ignoring the sharp thump of the stone against her shoulder blades as she hit the ground, pulling strands of water and icy air toward her. As momentum pulled her to her feet again, she threw the water across her back, infusing it with cold air so it froze in a shield like a turtle's shell.
Something glanced off the shield. She felt it crack. She reinforced it quickly, pulling more water into the crack and freezing it as she ran.
Something lit on her right.
Flames rocketed toward her. She turned her body, letting her shield take the brunt of it. But as she did, something dark and massive barreled into her from the left.
The Huntsman slammed her into the ground. The ice shattered under her back, shards cutting through her clothes, lancing her skin. She cried out in pain, but the man’s weight on top of her was too great. Her ribs compressed her lungs as she gasped for air.
Adrenaline coursed through her veins, tightening her bond to the water and air as her fight response kicked in. She thought of her scrap with Killian in Bolengard. Immediately, she froze the strands of water in her palms, breaking them off to form six-inch dagger-sharp icicles.
She didn’t hesitate. Didn’t think. Just brought her hands up and plunged the icicles into the Huntsman’s neck.
He bellowed and flailed. She was able to roll out from under him, scramble to her feet and stagger toward the bridge. Her breath came in ragged gasps.
Behind her the Huntsman’s howl petered out with a gurgle. But she didn’t look back. She didn’t want to know.
Her focus turned to her friends fighting their restraints.
Dilyn kicked and squirmed, struggling against the brute that pinned his arms to his sides. He was at a disadvantage as an unmarked Mervais. The water wasn’t within his reach, so he fought with his own strength.
But the Eerdens were able to use their element to fight. Vines twisted around the legs of the Huntsman who held Perry, dividing the man's attention between his captive and the earthy ropes threatening to bind him.
Behind the Huntsman holding Tehya, familiar-looking plants grew with unnatural speed—as tall as the Huntsman. Their pods were visible even from the bridge’s full distance away.
Gorse bushes.
The house fire had now become the fuse of Tehya’s earthy weapon. She'd use the Huntsmen’s strength against them.
Brilliant, Tehya
.
As the words formed in Ariana's head, the first pod caught the heat. It swelled, blazing red-hot. Then, with a percussive crack, it burst open, sending a thorn-like seed sailing into the darkness of the tree line.
Calls rang out on the right side island, and a line of Huntsmen emerged from the shadows.
Her stomach dropped.
Another pod flared. Another resounding shot as it burst open.
Then a flame arced from the house to the bush, and the entire plant lit up.
She doubled her speed, trying to outrun the imminent storm of projectiles. But she wasn’t even halfway across the bridge when the flurry of bursting pods erupted, filling the night air with a deafening noise that drowned out even the Vial’s ceaseless gale.
Something caught her ankles. She pitched forward and smacked her chin against the wooden bridge, biting down hard. She tasted blood.
Had she been hit by a seed?
The rough hands that clamped around her wrists told her otherwise. She tried to wriggle free but his knees came down on her calves, rendering her immobile. He held her down until the explosions from the gorse receded. Then he brought her wrists together behind her back and clamped them in one massive hand. He yanked her arms, pulling her to her feet. She yelped in pain, but his meaty palm clamped over her mouth, muffling the sound.
She kicked violently, to no avail. Her captor was too strong.
T
he man’s breath raked the back of her neck. It was hot, but it made her shiver. “Well aren’t you a fortunate find,
Tieren
.” His rough voice scratched at her ears, like thunder amidst the Vial’s storm.
Her heart fluttered in fear. She’d given herself away when she fought the other Huntsman.
Her captor removed his hand from her mouth and grabbed her hair.
“Snipe off," she retorted.
He wrenched her head back. Stars erupted in her eyes and a sharp pain stung her scalp as several hairs ripped free.
At this angle, she could see his face. She blanched.
The slope of his nose—like a predatory feline. The narrow slits revealing his brownish-yellow eyes. The sharp angles of his brows. The trunk-like thickness of his neck. This was a man she need only see once for his image to be burned in her memory forever.
The Commander.
“Here I find myself in short supply of carriers, what with that whole arrow
mishap
,” he said, his voice smooth and deadly.
Ariana cringed.
“And you so
kindly
volunteer to take the boy’s place.”
Part of her wanted to tell him off and refuse. But the other part knew that maybe—just maybe—if Hunter was alive, or if his etâme had not yet leached out of his lifeless body, she could get her hands on him and the Vial in time to damage it, at least.
It probably wouldn’t work. But she had to try.
She peered down her nose at the island, her eyes straining to see.
There were bodies on the ground, more than a few of them Huntsmen. At the base of the now skeletal gorse bush there was only a heap of black—the Huntsman who’d taken the brunt of the pod explosions.
Perry had gotten free of his captor and was fighting off a pair of the black-clad men attempting to move in on Tehya, who was on the ground beside Hunter, her face close to his.
Ariana closed her eyes, relieving them of the strain for a moment before opening them to look again. This time, she thought she saw the glow of the Vial shift with the position of Hunter’s arm.
Her heart skipped.
She pulled her chin down to see clearer. The Commander resisted, resulting in another shot of pain as more hairs tore from her scalp. But she saw what she was looking for.
Hunter moved his arm.
“He’s alive,” she breathed.
“What?” the Commander snapped.
“He’s. Alive,” she repeated, enjoying the small triumph, regardless of what it might mean for her.
A rumble emanated from the Commander’s throat. “We’ll see about that,” he said, and shoved her forward.
But as he did, the storming of the Vial fell silent, and a hush blanketed the courtyard.
The fight on the island ceased. Everyone stilled. Their faces turned toward Ariana and the Commander, who stopped.
For a moment he didn’t move. Neither he nor Ariana even breathed.
Why had the Vial gone silent?
“I dare not believe my eyes.”
From behind them came the voice. It was unfamiliar to Ariana, and yet, it was one she intimately recognized.
The Commander turned her around with him. Now it was clear that the attention from the island was not directed at her or the Commander, but at the man in the archway atop the stone stairs.
An icy tendril slithered up her spine.
He had a strong, sculptural face framed by leaden hair. His clothes were immaculate. His boots shone like black water under the moonlight. He stepped forward, flanked by a set of massive, ox-like men. As he moved, she studied his lithe angular frame, and his all-too-familiar gait.
Even the way he held his chin reminded her of Killian.
“My King,” the Commander uttered reverently.
Ariana trembled.
She’d seen his face a thousand times. And now Falken Fyrenn marched toward her.
The Huntsmen flanked the steps had gone still and straight as statues, their bows lowered but still loaded.
“You’ve made quite a mess,” the tyrant observed. His voice carried.
He stopped when he came to the Huntsman Ariana had stabbed, who now lay motionless on the steps in a pile of ice. The King nudged him with his boot, tilting the man’s face to inspect his neck.
The man groaned, and Ariana felt a cold snap of relief. She hadn’t killed him. She’d never wanted to fight the Fyrennians in a way that would leave blood on her hands.
“Who made the wounds in this one?” the King inquired. He was so cavalier he could've been asking who’d whipped up a particularly decadent desert.
“Her,” the Commander answered, yanking Ariana’s hair. She cried out.
The King cocked his head and trained his gaze on her. She clamped her mouth shut. But he continued to stare.
She wanted to turn away, afraid to make eye contact, sensing that somehow if she did she’d end up like the woman at the start of the maze. She squirmed with an overwhelming discomfort until he finally spoke.
“Tsk tsk tsk,” he said, looking back down at the Huntsman. “You let that little
girl
do this to you?”
The man was clearly unable to respond. She must've hurt him quite badly.
“Which means you fought her, and you let her get away,” he went on, something poisonous seeping into his unaffected tone. He eyed the Commander. “Unacceptable.”
It happened too quickly for Ariana to close her eyes: Falken stamped on the man's face and a crack echoed in the silent air as the man's neck was broken.
“Now. Where is he?” the King demanded.
He breezed to the bridge as the Commander moved himself and Ariana to the side. She caught her friends from the corner of her eye, and bit back a gasp.
Hunter was sitting. The arrow still stuck out of his chest. He leaned all his weight on Tehya and Perry.
As the king approached and his eyes found Hunter, a look spread over his face that stopped Ariana’s heart cold. He halted. A cruel grin seeped into his mouth. Sheer hatred boiled behind his eyes.
“There’s an arrow in his chest.” He sounded pleased by this.
“A slip, Sovereign,” the Commander quickly explained. “But the girl here can take his place.”
Falken turned his eyes to Ariana once more. "Rarer than Tieren twins, I believe is the saying." Her breathing grew erratic as he took another step, putting himself a mere arms-length away. From this distance, she had no choice but to meet his gaze.
For a fraction of a second, she thought she saw the slightest trace of a frown. But then it was gone—replaced by a cruel smirk.
“I’d rather make the boy suffer." Falken turned toward the island—toward Hunter. “The number of ways I dreamed of killing you, and here you are, alive, with an arrow in your chest,” he said. “Get up, boy.”
Hunter didn’t move.
“Get up,” he ordered again. “Or I will tear out that arrow and your heart with it.”
Hunter tried to tilt forward, but fell back, unable to bear his weight.
Ariana could see Perry’s eyes widen with anger. She clenched her teeth, silently begging him not to react. He was of no use to them. They wouldn’t hesitate to kill him.
“Get. Up.”
Hunter tried again, but this time Perry and Tehya held his shoulders, muttering encouragement to stay still.
“You’re wearing on my patience, boy,” the tyrant said. “Stand and bring me the Onyx Vial.”
“He can’t,” Perry snapped. “Don’t you see that?” He shifted Hunter’s weight into Tehya’s arms and stood.
Giving the archers a clearer shot on a wider target. Ariana cringed.
Falken hardly blinked. “I see a lazy boy and his petulant friend,” he responded. “He
can
get up and he
will
. But he won’t be needing your help.” He gestured to the archers.
Ariana knew what was coming.
Twang.
“Perry, no!” she screamed.
Falken’s hand lashed across her face like a whip, the impact exploding against her cheek and lighting her vision with stars. “Keep your mouth shut."
Perry’s howl echoed and died before she regained her vision.