16. Owen

The first thing Owen saw when he opened his eyes were the deep cracks in the ceiling. His vision blurred, but the more he blinked, the clearer the cracks became. He lifted his head and glanced around a small dingy room. A lone torch blazed on the wall. He was lying on a raised rock slab that was cold through his shirt. Water leaked from somewhere in the corner, and dark moss grew across the broken stones of the floor.

Groaning, Owen pushed himself up and sat on the edge of the slab. Cold air drafted past him, spilling chills along his skin, and a stinging pain prickled the side of his head. The last thing he remembered was being forced into a room where Quinnby sat playing cards. Then the man had brought out a Core, and he felt a sharp pinch in his side. Now, he was in some dark place he couldn't recall coming to.

He slid off the rock slab and got to his feet. His legs were weak as he made his way to the open doorway. Why had it been left open? Was he meant to leave the room? Outside, a long stone hallway led left and right into the darkness. A few candlelit sconces lit the way.

A voice echoed from the right side of the tunnel, and a familiar sensation grazed his mind. His eyes widened as the rush of incense filled his senses. It was Gilda, so near to him, he rushed out of the room. He veered right through the narrow passage, then left before it broke into two more passages. Owen looked behind him often as he stumbled along.

He could sense Colt and Brom too, their lemon and honey and pine energies mingling. They were further away, but his companions were all alive, and this alone drove Owen forward.

He shuffled to a stop when he caught Gilda's energy. It felt as if he could reach out his hand and feel the pulse there against his palm, but a wall separated him from it.

"Gilda!" he chanced.

Silence.

Then something shuffled nearby.

"Owen?"

Owen's heart started. "Where are you?" he shouted.

"Just on the other side of you, I think," she answered. "I'll find a way around!"

He followed along the wall until he came to a dead end. Loose stones and rock crumbled near the top of the wall, revealing a small hole.

"Owen? Where are you?" Gilda called, her voice frantic.

"Right here. Just past the wall. The stones are loose. I'm going to see if I can get through." Owen pushed against the crumbling wall, but only a few stones broke loose. "Stand back, Gilda, I'll break through it."

"Go ahead."

Owen's fingers curled. He let his Essence warm his veins, breathed in deep, and then put out his hands. The brick wall crumbled, the debris blasting out and creating a cloud of dust. When he looked up, coughing, he saw Gilda on the other side, waving her arms to clear the air.

His heart pounded as he climbed over the pile of rubble and met Gilda. To his surprise, she pulled him into an embrace, making him grunt. "I thought you were dead," she breathed.

Owen closed his eyes, squeezing her lightly. "No, not yet."

Gilda pulled away and looked behind him. "Do you sense Colt and Brom?"

"Yes. Can't you?"

"Very faintly. I can't get a good grasp on them." She took a ragged breath and leaned against the wall. "Quinnby wants to Cleanse us, but he's playing with us first, the bastard."

"Rem crossed us…" Owen put a hand to his head. "How could I be so foolish?"

"None of us knew, Owen, and we didn't have much choice but to trust him."

"I never could sense him, I should've known…"

"Owen, he's a Hunter, and Quinnby is his leader." Owen's eyes went wide with this knowledge, and his mind raced. "They can't be allowed to Cleanse you…"

Owen looked into the darkness of the tunnel before them and took a deep breath. No, he couldn't allow Quinnby to Cleanse him, but he couldn't allow them to Cleanse Gilda either. "I feel Colt and Brom that way. We need to be careful of our steps."

"Lead the way, and I'll cover your back if anything happens." Gilda held her hand out for him to go, and Owen made his way forward.

Gilda kept on his heels as they walked through the winding tunnels. The sound of rat's feet scuttled from behind, making them move faster. When they chose one of two paths that split, they found the tunnel full of cobwebs. Then the floor gave way.

When Owen staggered forward, Gilda caught onto his arm and pulled him back right before they both fell into a bed of sharp spikes.

"That was too close!" Owen got out, breathing hard as he leaned against the wall.

"Can we get past it?" Gilda asked.

Owen peered over the side of the pit. "No."

They backtracked through the cobwebs and took a passage that branched off the other way. After several hundred feet, the passage was blocked by metal bars. They pulled on them, but they were too strong to break.

As Owen looked past the barrier, a strange feeling came over him. "Let's turn back."

"We can get through somehow. I know we can." Gilda grunted as she used all her strength to try and bend one of the iron rods.

The sound of heavy feet padded against the ground, making them both freeze. Two yellow eyes emerged from the darkness beyond, revealing a four-legged beast. Drool dripped from sharp teeth, and gray fur rippled across its body. A low growl rumbled toward them as it approached the bars. Owen thought of Clove, but this animal didn't want to help them.

Owen's heart pounded. "A Horwolf."

"I'm suddenly very glad the bars are there," Gilda whispered.

When the wolf started digging in the soft dirt at the base of the gate, Gilda gasped, and they both started into a run, taking the passages back the way they had come. Violent growls echoed down the tunnel, as if the beast was coming after them.

When Gilda stumbled to a stop, Owen turned around to grab her, but she was waving Owen toward a crevice in the stone wall.

"Hurry, Owen," she said. "Squeeze through!"

A snarl echoed more closely now, and with it came fast approaching steps.

"Go, Owen!" Gilda pushed him through, and then she squeezed in just as the wolf caught up to them.

Coming through the other side, the Horwolf growled and snapped at them as it tried to push its way through.

Owen held an arm out, backing them both up as he watched the animal.

"Owen!" Gilda started.

"I can use my Essence on it!"

"No, Owen, stop! We're on a ledge!"

Just as she'd said it, Owen's heel dipped over the edge of a stone and he staggered. He grabbed Gilda's shoulders to steady himself, but both of them ended up teetering over.

A second later, Owen's body plunged into water. He'd held his breath just in time, and when he pushed himself up, surfacing, he gasped. A dim torch on the wall showed the outline of the wolf up on the ledge, snarling in frustration. He watched the animal run along the ledge and duck through another tunnel, finally leaving.

Owen let out a breath, then sank to his chin. As he moved his arms, he realized the water was thick, making it hard to swim through.

"Owen this way," Gilda whispered beside him.

Owen dipped back down, water going into his mouth. He spit it out and made a face when he tasted mud, but also something else that made him gag.

"This way. I can feel the bottom. Stand up." Gilda pulled him forward, and finally, Owen's boots hit solid ground. He waded through the muck toward a dim light in the distance. Shaking, he came out of the pool and shrank to his knees. He glanced down at his arms and hands, examining the brown covering his skin.

Mud. It's just mud.

Something dripped on his hair, and he swatted at it. When more drips landed on him, he looked up. Squinting, he found the outlines of unclothed corpses hanging upside down, their necks split and the blood dripping from them.

Gilda's eyes followed Owen's upward. Gasping, she grabbed Owen and pulled him toward a dry tunnel leading from the mud room. He pushed her away and leaned over to hurl his insides out, and when he stopped, the smell of blood and mud made him do it again, until he was sure every piece of food he'd eaten at the masque was gone now.

"Listen, Owen, I don't know what's going to be at the end of all this, but we're going to have to face it together. Understand?" When Owen leaned his hand against the wall, panting, Gilda grabbed his shoulder. "Owen, do you understand?"

He glanced over to find the serious look in her frightened eyes. Her face was covered in mud, but there were also hues of red mixed in with it. Her dress was now permanently stained brown, and her hair was a mess. Owen had never seen Gilda so distraught, which worried him. If she was frightened, then he had reason to be as well. He had to find Colt and Brom, and keep Gilda safe.

Nodding, Owen straightened up and took a breath. He couldn't stand feeling the mud all over him. It would weigh him down as he walked, and the smell was awful, but he had to forge onward.

Standing on wobbly legs, he led the way through a long tunnel until they came to a dimly lit, circular room. As they passed through the archway, the full expanse of the room became apparent. There was a low ceiling and a curved stairway leading to a balcony that encircled the room, and at least fifteen guards standing around, all armed with swords or firearms.

The room was starkly different from the cold, damp tunnels, with the ornate stairway and balcony. It was warm and lit with braziers that cast orange light on the walls. Stones paved the ground, with strange ritualistic etchings painted in red.

Owen's eyes trailed back up to the balcony. When he recognized Rem among the armed men, he narrowed his eyes. The man had tricked them, and all the way from Pitchvale. He had known that Owen was Astran and had led them specifically to Quinnby.

In the middle of the balcony, Quinnby stood with a crooked smile on his meticulous face. "There you two are," he said. "I was beginning to think you'd met your demise. Judging from your appearance, you already found my other victims."

Owen tensed as he glared up at the vile man before him.

"Sorry you had to see that." Quinnby grunted, popping his neck. "Now that you're here, I suppose you want to know what I'm doing. It's simple. I have a Core, constructed by secretive gentlemen who wish not to be known. Highly illegal? Yes." He chuckled, his dark eyes grazing over Owen. "But if you think I give a damn about what the Legion thinks, you're wrong." He paused to sigh dramatically, "Look, I don't hate you because you're Astran. I just envy your power. And if the Legion is allowed to take it, then so am I. That's just what Hunters do."

Owen closed his eyes. He had walked right into their den.

"It must be incredibly vexing to be Astran. You have no one to protect you anymore. Well, except your handsome bodyguard." He smiled crookedly. "And I can't have him coming after me, can I? So, I thought I'd… take care of him myself."

A flare of heat lit Owen's veins. His feet shuffled forward, his face twisting in anger as he yelled, "Where is Colt, you bastard?"

"My, you do have some fire in you. This should be fun." Quinnby smiled crookedly as he held his Core up.

Owen's body stiffened as it fell under the spell of the silver sphere, but the power wasn't as strong as the Cores he'd felt before, and he knew he'd be able to work his way out of it. He just had to be patient.

"So, are you and Gilda ready for your Cleansing? All you have to do is stand in the circle. It's better if we do both at the same time."

Owen eyed Gilda, who narrowed her eyes, looking as though she might try and throttle this man with her Essence.

"If you think we'll just give into you so easily, you're an idiot," Gilda said, scowling.

"I know you'll give in," Quinnby replied, his voice calm. "Because if you don't, I'll go ahead and kill one of them." He stepped away, and two men brought Colt and Brom forward.

Upon seeing them, Owen let out a breath of relief, but his heart ached as he saw them tied up and gagged. Brom looked the worst of them, his face bloodied and battered with bruises, and he slumped forward slightly. He must have put up more of a fight.

"You fools do as you're told, and they stay alive. After you're Cleansed, I'll release you both and give you ten minutes to run and hide. Then we will hunt."

Owen clenched his teeth. Being set up and drugged in order to be Cleansed, only to play Quinnby's sick game, made his anger swell. He had a hold over his Essence enough to feel the slow burn when it coursed through his veins. His body ignited along every nerve as his fury rose.

Quinnby narrowed his eyes on Owen. "Why are you glaring at me like that? Do you want to fight? Mm, I do love a fighter. It'll make things more interesting."

Owen cut his eyes over to the men wielding crossbows, aiming at him and Gilda, and then he glanced at Rem, who stared at him piercingly, as if he was truly enjoying what was happening. Owen's breath came out in rapid spurts, his body vibrating with rage. With a yell, he was able to break the Core's hold. Then, with the sudden jerk of his hand, he sent Quinnby flying back against the wall.

Quinnby hit the hard stones with a loud gasp as Owen pinned him there.

The other men prepared their crossbows, but when their arrows flew out, they all stopped in midair before falling to the ground, and then their weapons flew from their hands to land in a pile at Owen's feet.

Gilda took advantage of her freedom and moved her hands to swipe one side of the balcony clear of men, while Owen purged the other side. Owen kept them all at bay as Gilda ran up the steps. She snatched one of their swords from the ground before turning and cutting a Hunter down. As the others scrambled to their feet, she used her own Essence to keep them back, and Owen backed her up as she cleared a path to Colt and Brom.

Owen walked forward, toward the balcony, his body surging with a fury so strong, he could easily pin Quinnby against the wall with one hand. He stretched his fingers of his other hand out and felt the Essence erupting from his palms, the power within him hurtling the men into walls, knocking them out or crushing their skulls. He curled his left hand into a fist, and he swore he could feel Quinnby's throat from where he stood.

Quinnby gave a guttural scream as blood seeped from his eyes and nose, and the Core fell from his hand.

A new presence flowed around Owen, as if he was drawing in a power that wasn't his own. A loud vibration filled the room. The walls shook. Loose stones and pieces of bone floated through the air. Owen's rage crested as the uncontrollable urge to punish Quinnby possessed him anew. The room grew dark as the light faded from the braziers. Quinnby's face was turning red, and blood seeped from his nose.

"The power of your hatred will unleash a fury like none before it. Embrace your role as Shadowborn…"

Owen faltered, his eyes watering as the strange, deep voice entered into his mind. This one didn't belong to the hooded shadow man that followed him, he was sure of it. It was different, hollow, full of malice. It mirrored the voice he heard when he'd gone through the Cleansing ritual in Covehaven.

And it was enough to frighten him.

"Shoot him!" someone yelled, and Owen looked over just as a man pointed a firearm at him. Rem was already on the move, grabbing the man's arm and yanking his aim upward just as the weapon went off. It sent such a loud sound into the room, that Owen's focus broke, and he jumped back with a gasp.

His ears rang, and his heart pounded. He felt weak now and sank to his knees. When he looked up at the macabre sight he had created—men lying on the floor, blood pooling around their heads or sitting still against the walls, including Quinnby—remorse rose up in him. The dark energy that had resonated from him and through the room dissipated.

He looked down at his muddy hands, then raised his eyes to find Colt's pale-stricken face before him, looking as if he'd seen a ghost. Owen's head pulsed with a sharp pain. He let out an exhausted breath, and the stinging in his head intensified, feeling like needles piercing his temples. Heaving a breath of air, he slumped forward just as Colt caught his shoulders.

"I've got you," Colt told him.

Owen's mind wavered, and black spots floated across his eyes. He heard someone yelling—it sounded like Rem—and then there were sounds of muffled slaughter: steel clashing, another firearm going off, arrows releasing from crossbows.

Then they were running and picking their way carefully through a darkness that was pitch black. Dim lights appeared ahead, and an awful smell circled Owen that reminded him of the muddy pool. Someone leaned him against a cold wall, and he heard a massive crash of stone and debris falling from the ceiling.

Owen shook his head to clear it. His head was less fogged now, and he didn't feel so near to passing out. He looked over to see Colt and Gilda helping Brom walk. Behind them, the tunnel was closed off by a pile of dirt and rock, a cave in that Gilda had caused.

"We're lucky the roof didn't cave in on us," Gilda panted.

"Let's go." Colt limped over to Owen and pulled him off the wall to help him.

"I'm alright," Owen said, putting his hand up. "I'm alright."

Colt held him out by his shoulders and asked, "Are you good enough to walk?"

Owen nodded. "Yes."

"It's only a matter of time before they find another way around," Gilda said, her arm around Brom's waist as he slumped forward, looking like he was barely holding on to consciousness. "Brom isn't doing so good. We need to get him out of here."

Owen looked from her to Colt, whose face was bruised as well, but he didn't look nearly as bad as Brom. He could feel the air flowing from somewhere. All he had to do was follow it and get them out. "I'll lead the way."

Mustering his energy, Owen led them forward, but it was slow moving. The tunnel was nearly dark, with only dim lights along the way from scattered torches or glowing mushrooms that helped aid them along.

When he heard a scuffle, he stopped them and waited. Footsteps approached, and when a man rounded the corner, Gilda reached out her hand. The man flew against the wall, dropping his weapon, and cried out as Gilda pinned him in place.

Colt took the man's sword from the ground and ran it through him, and then they continued on, staying silent as they rushed along the tunnel. Owen's energy was reviving, his heart pounding with every twist and turn they took. When he sensed more men approaching, he put up a hand to stop their progress and braced for them, taking two of them out easily.

They walked for a long time before finally reaching a gate at the end of a tunnel. Beyond it was a door placed into the wall. They tried yanking it open, but when it wouldn't budge, Gilda leaned Brom against the wall, then approached the locked gate. She placed her hand upon the lock, and within seconds, it opened.

They piled out, closed the gate back, and bolted for the wooden door. It was jammed shut, much to their dismay.

"Can you use your Essence on it too?" Colt asked.

"No," Gilda sighed. "I'm just as drained as Owen is. We're going to have to use that sword."

Behind them, voices echoed, and men approached. As light filled the tunnel, Colt wedged the steel of the blade into the doorjamb to pry it open with Owen's assistance. When the door was open enough to fit through, they squeezed outside, coming through thick vines and into a forest of trees.

They ran forward on the path until they saw a lone man eating on the back of his horse-drawn cart. When they approached him, he startled and jumped to his feet.

"Get Brom in the cart," Colt muttered. They all moved forward, Gilda helping Brom to the back of the cart.

"Hey!" the older man started, eyes wide with fright. "This is my cart! You can't just take it!" When Gilda held her sword out to him, he stumbled back in defeat.

"I'm so sorry, but we'll reimburse you someday," Owen said, his limbs shaking.

"Owen, just get in." Colt pulled him away from the older man and into the back of the cart, then he and Gilda climbed into the driver's seat and started forward quickly.

As they drove away, Owen glanced back at the man they'd just stolen from. He felt bad, but they had no choice. When he looked down at Brom, who was stirring, he bent down to him to inspect his injuries, thankfully finding only bruises. Hopefully, his companion wasn't beaten so badly that his injuries were internal.

Owen looked around to find something for Brom to prop his head on, and he was shocked to discover that most of the items on the cart were their own belongings. His brow furrowed as he found his bag, and then Colt's bow.

"These… these are our things!" he got out.

Colt and Gilda looked back, blinking in surprise, then glanced at each other.

"Why would Rem put our things on a cart out here?" Colt asked.

Owen shook his head. "He expected us to come out…?"

"What's going on?" Brom asked, groaning. "Where are we?"

"Just keep down," Owen told him. "We're alright now."

But just as he'd said it, a familiar wolf ran after them, barking aggressively. Clove snarled as she ran behind the cart, but when she saw Owen, she stopped her noise and slowed down.

Behind her, horses raced after them.

Owen's eyes widened, and he sat up to shake Colt's arm. "They're, uh, coming after us."

They all looked behind them as several men on horseback drew nearer.

"As if this whole thing couldn't get any worse," Gilda growled.

"Take the reins!" Colt shouted. He turned around and jumped into the back of the cart.

Though weary, Owen summoned his energy. He counted five riders driving fast toward them.

An arrow flew past Owen's ear and he ducked.

"Just stay down, Owen," Gilda said. "They'll come for you first."

"Wouldn"t be so sure about that," Colt muttered. He threw his quiver over his shoulder and grabbed an arrow in one movement, then he lined up the arrow on his bow as a rider closed the distance between them. With one knee down and his foot up, leaning against the side of the cart, he positioned his arrow and pulled back on the string.

The arrow pierced the first approaching man through the shoulder, jolting him off his horse and to the ground.

A shot of something loud broke through the air, and something whizzed their way, nearly taking Gilda's head with it.

"Whoa!" Brom suddenly sat up, eyes wide. "What was that?"

Colt glanced down at him. "Oh, now you wake up."

Owen drew in a deep breath, trying to ignore the dull pain in his head. When two more men neared on horseback, Owen used the air to blast at them, but it did little more than stun them.

Looking up, the branches of trees spread over them like a canopy. He reached up with his hands and pulled on a branch with his invisible strength until it fell on one of the riders.

There were still three more upon them. Colt shot his arrow at the closest rider, but the man dodged it. Owen used his Essence to grab hold of the man's horse, slowing it until he collided with the rider behind him. They both toppled over their spooked horses with a scream.

One last rider charged at them now.

Owen knew Rem's face even within the dreary shadows of the trees. The man's dark eyes bulged, his upper lip turned up in a snarl as he neared the cart.

But Owen would not succumb to this man who had betrayed their trust. Finding his balance as the cart jostled them back and forth, Owen felt his anger build. Rather than let his power burst out, he waited as it burned in his veins. When he had taken out Quinnby, his blood had become so hot that he had lashed out at the first feel of it burning him, like the simmering of a pot. Now he let it boil.

Finally unable to withstand the heat searing him from inside, he blasted his Essence out from his hands, coursing from every cell of his body without restraint. A purple flame filled the space before him as fire erupted from his palms. He caught Rem's surprise just before the flames engulfed his body, and the man screamed, a bloodcurdling wail that filled the forest with a frightening chill.

As the fire disappeared from Owen's hands and the cart raced on, he watched as Rem flung himself to the ground and rolled in the dirt, trying to snuff out the colorful flames on his cloak.

Gilda steered the cart around a corner, and Rem and his men were finally out of sight. Owen noticed Clove still running after them before slowing down. She stopped and stared at them as they left, then turned for her owner.

Owen sat down and looked at his shaking hands. They were charred black but not burned. Taking in the shocked looks of his companions, he glanced away, saying nothing as they conquered their escape.