Sūnder (Darksoul Book 1) Page 23

  Gabe didn’t say anything, only tackle-hugged Ronan. Was he angry? Yes, but not at Ronan. Not really. His parents were responsible for keeping this birthright from him. By the sound of it, Ronan had been strong-armed into keeping his silence, and even though Ronan did keep their secrets, he’d still been on Gabe’s side. Ronan had never stopped believing, and had brought him and Sūnder together at a great cost to himself.

  “You didn’t lose everything. You have me and Sūnder. I bet Válora would love to take you under her wing. In the little time I’ve known her, it’s been clear she tends to adopt the abandoned. I promise you, Ro, you won’t be alone.”

  Ronan’s grip was crushing, but Gabe didn’t protest, only held Ronan just as tight. After a long time Ronan broke away, his smile almost shy.

  Gabe drew Ronan over to the couch, where he gratefully slumped down into the cushions next to Ronan. “These people in your movement, they want to go back to Slorèx even knowing how dangerous it is?”

  “Yes. They want to heal the Jade Forest and restore it to its former glory. A little idealistic considering the political climate, but that was one of the elder’s problems too. They didn’t pay attention to people and their intentions. Their only focus was on maintaining the land, and their blindness was what allowed the noble houses to get the upper hand. This younger generation is the same. The green sentinels coming with me are aware of this, and will protect the guardians and faeborn from others to the best of our ability, both physically and politically.”

  “I’ve read a lot over the last couple of days, but I haven’t seen a single mention of a green sentinel.”

  “Originally, the sentinels weren’t associated with the guardians and faeborn. They were only responsible for keeping the Jade Forest safe from magical attack by outside influences, more physical magickal attacks. They roamed the land like rangers, defending the forest, until the civil war. Many sentinels helped the guardians and their faeborn flee. Some stayed and evolved into the DarkHunters.” Ronan made a face of disgust. “Their ideals became warped, making them nothing more than assassins.”

  “Do your people need a place to go? Will the elders allow them to leave?” Catching sight of the teapot, Gabe rose and poured himself a cup. “You want one?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Gabe poured another cup.

  Ronan accepted the hot brew. “Those in the Movement will be leaving regardless of the elders’ orders, and are only waiting for me to acquire enough funds to book passage for everyone.”

  “I’ll have to run it by Sūnder, but perhaps the Panthrÿns will help.”

  Ronan brightened. “You think they will? The sooner I can get the people of the Movement away from Earth, the better. We don’t want to get into a conflict with the elders; we just want to help Slorèx.”

  To lighten the atmosphere Gabe shot a glance at Ronan from the corner of his eye. “So you and the paladin, Akirá, hmm?”

  A strained smile twisted Ronan’s lips as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know. Maybe. I met him at one of the galas. I had wanted to get close to the Chándariāns to see if the current-day L’fÿns were the same as what I’d read in the reports.”

  “Wait, I thought you were ready to settle down.” Gabe frowned at Ronan, not sure if he should be hurt.

  Ronan made a frustrated noise and rose to pace in front of Gabe, his hands clasped on top of his head. “I thought, hoped… Gabe, you don’t know what it’s like. By day, I’m a nurse, and any free time is consumed by my duties as a green sentinel. There were those of us who wanted to see if we couldn’t put the Jade Forest back together, so I told myself that going to the Festival would help me become acquainted with more Chándariāns. But at the same time I wanted something, someone for myself. Perhaps I’m selfish, but I desire more than just work and duty for my life.”

  Rising, Gabe stepped in front of Ronan, halting his pacing. “Nonsense. That isn’t selfish. I want you to be happy. Akirá seems fond of you, protective even.”

  “I really like him, and I want to get to know him better. With everything else going on, I haven’t had time. The welfare of the faeborn and guardians come first. If Sūnder and his father are willing to assist us, that would be a tremendous help and relieve some of my stress.”

  “All we can do is ask. If the answer is no, I’ll help you find another way,” Gabe promised, sending a quick message to Sūnder on his data pad. To his surprise, the door opened immediately and both Sūnder and Akirá entered. They had to have been waiting in the corridor.

  Sūnder waved his data pad at Gabe. “Got your message. I’ve already spoken with Father, and he’s willing to help the Earth guardians and faeborn in any way we can, although he would like a formal meeting with their leaders first.” The last was said with Sūnder glancing between Ronan and Akirá.

  “It would be my pleasure,” Akirá replied.

  Ronan nodded his agreement. “I’m sure something can be arranged.”

  “Fantastic. Then if you will come with me and Gabe, we can sit down with Paulo and coordinate moving the faeborn, guardians, and green sentinels who are willing to return to Slorèx. Between the Oberon and my father’s vessel, there are plenty of accommodations.” Sūnder helped Gabe to his feet.

  “Do you mind if I catch up with you later?” Gabe asked. “I would like to check up on the three faeborn in the infirmary.”

  Sūnder stared down at him for a moment, his expression tender. “I shall hurry and join you there shortly.”

  Gabe tilted his chin up for a sweet kiss before Sūnder led Ronan and Akirá away. He used the map on his data pad to help him traverse the halls, and when he finally found the infirmary, Milāni and Quinlān were sitting up in their beds. Shaefer moaned and thrashed in his. Gabe was concerned to see Shaefer’s wrists strapped to the bedframe.

  “Shaefer’s seeing things, and he tried to hurt himself,” Milāni explained in a lilting voice as Gabe checked the charts. “Dr. Lashūl sedated him, worried he would cause more harm to himself.”

  Gabe felt an overwhelming need to touch Shaefer. As he drew closer, he noted Shaefer hadn’t turned into a blood-thirsty megalomaniac. He threatened the lives of no one other than himself, just as Gabe had suspected. But Shaefer was sick, very much so. Which begged the question: what had really caused the Scarab War? He highly doubted that faeborn poisoned like Shaefer would have gone on a killing spree as was rumored they’d done.

  When he stood at the side of Shaefer’s bed, the young faeborn male opened his eyes. A feverish sweat coated his brow, soaking his dark hair. “Are you going to help me?” Shaefer asked, his voice raspy.

  Gabe grabbed a cup of water and held the straw to Shaefer’s lips. “I will try. There are some guardians coming within the next day or two. They will know how to best help you.” He hoped they hurried, because Shaefer seemed worse than when he’d been brought in.

  “Are you not a guardian? I can feel something in you. Something different than in everyone else.” Hope flared in those fevered eyes.

  “Yes.” The affirmation stuck on his tongue. This was the first time he’d said it aloud in front of someone other than Sūnder. He felt exposed, vulnerable.

  Shaefer’s expression darkened. “If you cannot cleanse me, please tell my family—”

  Gabe grasped Shaefer’s hand to reassure him everything would work out, but the words froze in his throat as he was immediately sucked into Shaefer’s magick. He could see the taint on the outer edges, black and oozing, floating around Shaefer like an oil slick atop of Shaefer’s light. The color bled to a murky brown closer to Shaefer’s core, barely a sliver of pure light surrounding him.

  “What do you see?” Shaefer’s words weren’t as slow or encumbered as before. Had Gabe’s touch rejuvenated him somehow, if only slightly?

  “Your soul.” Gabe replied, hearing two sharp intakes of breath behind him followed by the sound of rustling. He hoped the other two faeborn didn’t touch him. He didn’t know what would happen if they di
d.

  To distract everyone, Gabe started talking. “You know what I believe? I think your magick comes from your soul. When you cleanse something, you’re swapping your energy with the energy of the life around you, and when you take in the bad, the toxins don’t burn off as is thought, but cling to you instead. Probably only until your body naturally processes them, though. I’ve seen it with my Sūnder, and Milāni said that after he balances nature, he’s tired.”

  “Yes.” Milāni sounded as if he was on the other side of Shaefer, not behind Gabe. “I’m achy, and sort of sick for a couple of days.”

  Gabe assessed the taint. He didn’t like how the light was almost snuffed out, and he really didn’t want to find out what happened when it was. They couldn’t wait for the other guardians to arrive; it would take too long. Perhaps he could pull off some toxins, give Shaefer time for someone more knowledgeable, more experienced to help him? Regardless, he couldn’t leave Shaefer without doing something.

  Taking a deep breath, Gabe reached out and ran his fingers through the murkiness closest to Shaefer’s light. The more he gathered up, the more the taint seemed to flow inwards from the outer ring. He gagged as he unintentionally let the darkness seep into his skin, and heard one of the other faeborn call for help. The shouts became distant. Once again, Gabe felt like suddenly had the flu. His body ached, and his head pounded as if a migraine threatened to pounce. Why had he attempted this when he had no clue as to what he was doing? The ring of clean light around Shaefer thickened, giving Gabe hope he was doing something right, and he redoubled his efforts. The more he worked, the worse his vision blurred. His limbs trembled, making him suddenly wish he were sitting.

  A burst of strident voices floated over and around him, but Gabe was concentrating too hard on Shaefer to make out any words. Was it a bad sign that the color of the skin on his hands and arms was changing to match that of the taint? He pushed the thought away because it didn’t matter; with every passing minute, Shaefer’s light grew brighter. Gabe stubbornly continued to swipe at the darkness. He almost had it all, there was only a little more. So close….

  “Gabe.” Sūnder’s concerned whisper made Gabe pause. Sūnder was too close. “You have to let go of Shaefer.”

  “I’m just about there,” Gabe promised, his throat beyond dry. “Just a couple more moments and he’ll be clean again.”

  “No. Now, Gabe. You’ve done enough. Come away with me.”

  Something brushed against Gabe’s shirtsleeve, and for one, heart-stopping moment he thought Sūnder would touch him. He couldn’t allow that to happen, not when he was full of toxins. He could contaminate Sūnder, and the thought had him flinching away from the fleeting touch, inadvertently releasing Shaefer. Gabe’s lips were numb, and he couldn’t feel where he put his feet, but he managed.

  Losing contact with Shaefer was like being submerged in ice-cold water. His skin was stretched too tight, his chest ached as if he’d been holding his breath. Gabe felt as if he were running a fever, but he knew differently. As his stomach roiled with a terrible nausea, he gasped with the pain of it. He swiped at his eyes, trying to dispel the fogginess blurring his sight, and found tears streaming down his cheeks.

  “Gabe.” Sūnder’s voice was pitched too high, too close.

  “No! Don’t touch me! Please.” He stumbled, lurching into the bed closest to Shaefer’s, doubled over and gagging at the feeling of things moving around inside him.

  “Here.” Gabe didn’t see who shoved a bag into his hand, he was just glad someone had.

  He collapsed to his knees. Unlike last time, when he’d had to wait, Gabe didn’t hold back. He heaved gratefully, eyes squeezed shut to help him ignore what exactly he was purging. A cold sweat covered him from head to toe, the pungent smell sickly sweet.

  Finally finished, he happily relinquished the bag, and would’ve fallen on his face if Sūnder hadn’t caught him.

  “Ugh, I smell,” Gabe complained, even though he pressed his face into Sūnder’s nape, taking the soothing scent strongest there into his lungs.

  “What made you think to do that without help?” Sūnder demanded. “Guardians are on their way to the Oberon now.”

  “Didn’t mean to do so much, but he couldn’t wait for them,” Gabe replied, not really up to explaining what he saw or thought. “How is Shaefer?”

  “He’s fine. The same cannot be said for you.”

  Too tired, Gabe didn’t protest.

  Sūnder drew him closer. “Lashūl will check you over before I take you back to our cabin.”

  Gabe managed to make a noncommittal noise before falling into unconsciousness.

  20

  RONAN WAS on his way to the infirmary to check on the faeborn before he hunted Akirá down to give him an apology when green-haired Quinlān appeared at the end of the corridor. His eyes were wide with fright, and he was calling for help. As he rushed to meet the boy, Ronan cursed himself for allowing Paulo to hold onto his weapons after he’d boarded the ship.

  Inside the room Quinlān had come out of were Milāni, Shaefer, and Gabe. Ronan stopped in his tracks, his heart dropping to his stomach to see Gabe grasping Shaefer’s hand as if the connection was the only thing keeping Gabe from floating away. A silent wind swirled around the two of them, ruffling their hair, and angry red and black sparks burst from them only to disappear before they hit the ground. The most frightening thing was the way the normally golden skin around Gabe’s hands and forearms had darkened, his veins risen to the surface and glowing a sickly green-yellow.

  Other people entered the room: the doctor Lashūl, who had taken the faeborn from the briefing room, Sūnder, and Princess Válora. Strangely, the doctor flipped some switches on a panel, causing several small cameras to drop from the ceiling, instead of going to Gabe and Shaefer.

  “What the fuck!” he yelled, pushing up into Dr. Lashūl’s face. “Help him, don’t record him!”

  Dr. Lashūl jerked away from the hold Ronan had on his arm. “We need the evidence of what he can do, how he processes the toxins. He wants people to know faeborn aren’t a threat, that if they sicken, they can be cured.”

  Ronan wanted to shake the doctor. “I’ve seen guardians cleanse faeborn. That isn’t what it looks like!”

  “Ronan!” Sūnder snapped. When he whirled to meet the new challenge, Sūnder didn’t appear angry, only worried. “Explain what you mean. Calmly.” One of the cameras popped into his line of sight, recording him. He wanted to crush it but refrained, barely.

  How was he supposed to be calm? Running a hand over his close-cropped hair. Ronan barely refrained from pacing. “Guardians help faeborn process the negative energies they pick up when they balance the environment. Both the faeborn and guardian glow. The deeper the cleansing, the stronger the glow about the two, ranging between a pale yellow to a deep orange. That—” He jabbed a finger at Gabe and the ominous cloud around him. “That isn’t natural. He needs to stop.”

  “This means Tālia used something possibly unnatural, perhaps even something specially crafted,” Dr. Lashūl said almost absently.

  “I have no idea what it could be. Some of the things guardians and faeborn have cleansed here on Earth have been pretty toxic: radiation, uranium poisoning, every known manmade chemical. None of them caused a reaction like that,” Ronan informed the doctor, unable to believe everyone was just standing around watching. “It has to be either something native to Slorèx, or a substance made with something that isn’t found on Earth.”

  Ronan threw his hands in the air, releasing a noise of extreme frustration. “You know what, I don’t give a shit what she did or how that stuff got to Earth. What’s important right now is that Gabe’s being poisoned and I don’t know how much more he can take before he dies.” He’d had enough. He was finished trying to talk sense into Sūnder and the doctor. Crossing the room to Gabe, Ronan found himself hauled back before he could do anything helpful.

  “This isn’t the first time he’s done this, Ronan. Trust Gabe
to know what he’s doing.” Although Sūnder’s words were calm and logical, Ronan could see the terror Sūnder attempted to hide.

  Ronan stared at Sūnder, willing him to understand the peril Gabe was in. Sūnder was as new as Gabe to the inner workings of the faeborn–guardian balance, and wouldn’t be aware of the dangers involved. “Sūnder, this isn’t normal.”

  Just as Ronan resolved to beg, Sūnder whispered in Gabe’s ear. Ronan held his breath, hoping Gabe would listen. His best friend could be too stubborn for his own good sometimes. Ronan wasn’t sure what happened, but Gabe startled, jerking away from Sūnder and breaking contact with Shaefer at the same time. The doctor rushed to Shaefer’s side and began running diagnostics.

  Gabe wobbled, his eyes open but unseeing. Shaking from head to toe, Gabe gasped and, before Ronan’s eyes, the unnatural black saturating Gabe’s arms from his elbows down to his fingers seemed to seep into Gabe’s body. Where was it going? What would it do to Gabe?

  Sūnder called Gabe’s name, but Gabe stumbled away from him to double over in obvious pain against the closest bed. Ronan took a step forward, surprised by Gabe’s reaction, his concern causing his heart to pound. Why was Gabe shying away from Sūnder? Gabe gagged, the sound horrendous, as if he was turning inside out, making Ronan’s stomach roil sympathetically. Ronan swallowed the bile creeping up the back of his throat.

  He turned in search of something for Gabe to retch into, only to find Akirá crossing the room holding a clear containment bag. Ronan had been so focused on Gabe he hadn’t noticed Akirá’s arrival.

  When Gabe began to purge, what filled the container caused Ronan to catch his breath.

  “What? How?” He’d only heard the elders speak of such an occurrence in stories of the last days they’d spent in the Jade Forest. The guardians had worked furiously to purge the toxins from their sickened and dying faeborn, and the resulting plague of scarabs had swarmed certain enclaves. When Ronan moved to go to Gabe, he was halted by a large, firm hand grasping his bicep.