33. Owen

Anger coiled deep in Owen's stomach, bubbling toward his surface. It wasn't like him to become so heated, but all of this was too much. He glanced down at the little book left behind by his father, wondering why he had to die at the hands of the Legion. It wasn't fair that all he had to learn of him was from ink.

Owen flipped through the book, his heart pounding with each word he scanned. Every page was filled, and the last word written in the entire thing was ‘sacrifices.' Stiffening, Owen held his breath as he flipped the page back and read the passage there.

‘I have spoken with the spirits of the dead, and they have shared their secrets with me. Most spoke of a sacrifice, one that cannot be ignored. The Unseen Vale is where Mordren dwelled for so long, time cannot even exist there. It was once a place where rivers existed for souls to swim along after death. The two channels divided into eternal life and eternal death. Those worthy of eternal life go on to live in some other plane, or perhaps were reincarnated. Those born of hatred go on to sleep forever. But after Aleana was killed and Alenar left this world, the channels were cut off, and so all the souls reside in the Vale with Mordren, and it is said that he is an eater of souls, a menace who wishes to sacrifice many for transcendence. This is true evil at play, and I shudder to wonder at what it all means, at why such a god needs such sacrifices.'

When the door opened, Owen jumped, nearly coming out of his skin. When he saw it was Colt, he closed his eyes and closed the book. What did his father mean? What did any of this mean? His father was able to speak with spirits as well? And they told him about Mordren eating souls and possibly initiating sacrifices? It was all beginning to scare him too much, and he closed the book and set it on the bed as Colt came up to him.

"You alright?" Colt asked.

Owen shook his head as he tried to pull up his bag. "No, but I"ll be fine once we leave here. I don't want to endanger these people for one more minute."

"You're right. Maybe it's best to get you as far away from here as possible. All this talk about the Gate and your dagger… it's not good for us to be here."

Owen's jaw tensed as he packed his bag with his left hand. Sighing, he picked up his dagger and released it from its sheath. He ran a finger down the flat part of the steel. "This can't be it. There's no way this is the… key."

Colt came up to him and pried the blade from his hand. "You don't need to worry about this. If you want, I'll carry this for a while, keep it off your mind."

"It's alright. We can leave for Blackhurst tonight, and put this all behind us."

"You afraid?"

Owen closed his eyes, hesitating before he said, "I'm terrified. Of what Bridge told us, of what's in my father's notes, of being so close to the Gate with Hunters and Wielders on our trail, endangering everyone."

Colt nodded and stepped toward Owen. When he took his hand, Owen squeezed it for comfort. Their foreheads touched, and Owen was about to move into his embrace when the sound of something shattering came from the living room.

They exchanged worried glances before they hurried for the door. Ripping it open, Owen came through to find several men flooding into the house, wielding swords and crossbows.

Bridge and his family put their hands up in surrender, but Brom and Gilda looked ready to fight. These were Rem's men, looking rugged and rough, and were no doubt bitterly angry that they'd been forced to enter Vanhelm.

Owen stepped forward and put his left hand up, but he was unable to channel much of his Essence, as pain shot through his whole body, and he had to lower his arm.

Why can't I use my Essence? Why did it hurt me to try?

A loud blast sounded from outside, making everyone jump. Heavy boots thudded into the room as Rem entered, tall and clothed in a thick black coat with silver buttons. He held a weapon that looked peculiar, and Owen recognized the firearm that Rem held in Quinnby's tavern. Rem peered around the room as more of his men spilled in.

"Nel, don't!" Agnes shouted.

Owen looked over at Nel just as she charged at one of the men with a knife. Before Nel could reach her target, another blast echoed through the house, and she fell to the ground.

"Nel!" Agnes started. She dropped beside Nel and placed her hand against the bloody wound in her thigh. Agnes glanced up with fear in her eyes before looking back down at her daughter, who grunted in pain. Bridge looked around for something to help aid her with, but one of Rem's men stopped him from going anywhere. Instead, Bridge pulled off his own overshirt and wrapped it around Nel's leg above her wound to stop the blood flow.

Owen turned toward Rem, but rather than trying to use his Essence, Owen backed down, his nostrils flaring as he glared at the man. The Hunter reached down and ripped Agnes from Nel's side. When Bridge got up to fight back, Rem pointed the weapon at Agnes's head, and Bridge froze.

"How many more of you do I need to shoot?" Rem asked, standing poised, his blistered face shadowed with more hair than the last time Owen had seen him. His dark eyes held a grating stare.

Owen trembled, his eyes matching Agnes's fear as her wide eyes darted down to Nel, who cried out in pain.

"Help my daughter!" Agnes pleaded with him.

Rem raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps we will. Or I may let her bleed."

"No!" Owen started. "I'll do whatever you want. Just… don't hurt anyone else."

"Owen—" Colt started, grabbing his arm, but Owen pulled away. He met his lover's eyes and shook his head, trying desperately to convey to Colt to back off. He did the same to Brom and Gilda, who looked like they might try and fight back, but from the look in Gilda's eyes, Owen knew even she knew they didn't stand a chance.

Rem passed Agnes and the weapon to one of his men, then Rem nodded at the door behind Owen. "We have much to discuss."

"I go too," Colt said.

Rem sneered at him before he said, "No, you don't. If you know what's best for you all, you'll stay right here. I will speak with Owen, alone."

The Hunter pulled Owen into the room, and when the door shut behind him, he shrank, aware of how alone he was with this man he feared most. One glance at the windows showed Hunters walking around outside as well, which meant Rem had more men than whoever was inside the house. They were far outnumbered.

Rem rolled his shoulders and sniffed, then warmed his hands by the fire in the hearth. "You've managed to cover a lot of ground without my guidance after all," he started. "But I must say, I've enjoyed our little hunt and chase."

Owen's blood simmered. "You led us on just to cross us, forced me to play in some sadistic game and then hunted me down. You're no different from a Wielder. I'm surprised you don't carry a Core as Quinnby did." He wasn't sure who was worse, Elian or this man.

Rem laughed low, and the sound made Owen's skin crawl. "I don't like Cores. I prefer the real thing, but even that is beyond my grasp. I envy you for many reasons."

"There's nothing to be envious of. Hiding my identity, running from people like you, the Legion… you've only made things worse for me. And to drag your poor wolf-dog into this just to hunt me down."

Rem's lip curled into a cruel smile. "Gypsy is the absolute best when it comes to tracking. She's a dog bred to hunt down Astrans. Even the Legion uses such animals, though they've exhausted their efforts on trying to animate dead animals to do it. I prefer using the raw source of such things. The hunt is my favorite part of the game, so I like to do it as naturally as I can. Quinnby enjoyed the hunt as well, but he got in the way of my plans. Now that he's dead, I will take my leave from his estate."

Owen grimaced at Rem's words. This man had no ounce of mercy or emotion in him. But what hurt more than anything was hearing how Clove had betrayed them. But the animal didn't know. She was innocent in everything.

"Whatever you're planning, you won't win," Owen said.

"We'll see in the end, Shadowborn."

Owen's jaw tightened. Of course Rem would know by now, he'd seen the purple flames twice.

"I won't underestimate you anymore," Rem said. "I've seen what you can do. But I can also tell you're injured, and from the looks of how you're walking, by the look on your face, your pain must be deep."

"Then you understand, if you think I'm going to try and escape with my injuries, you must be mad."

"I already know I'm mad, Owen." Rem turned, and a slight smile played on his lips. "Madness… is something you feel. It's not always the obvious, like those people in the streets who mutter to themselves, or those who see devils. Some of us are able to tame it, control it. But a man who accepts his madness, that's a man who is not to be trifled with." He took a step forward, and Owen held his breath.

Rem cocked his head and stared at him so long, Owen looked away. "You look like him. Nearly a spitting image."

Owen's heart dropped, his mind going numb.

"Your father, Owen, was someone Amias and I both knew, albeit briefly."

He blinked in shock, his mouth opening but unable to form words.

"Jensen Greene Abernathy, the first Shadowborn to be found in over a hundred years, and then killed in the blink of an eye."

The lump formed in his throat, and he swallowed it down, but he couldn't help the tears that rose to his eyes. Just a while ago, he had been discussing his father with the others in the living room. It had been a sad but joyous conversation. Now… it filled Owen with dread, as his father was linked to more people than he thought.

"Had I known that your father had been so taken with the woman who cried and begged for us not to Cleanse him, I would have hunted her instead."

"Fuck you!" Owen spat, heat and water rimming his eyes.

Rem made a sound in his throat. It wasn't a growl, but a sigh of deep impatience. He stepped forward and grabbed Owen's chin. "You must understand, Owen, that it wasn't me who killed your father. If anything, I wanted him alive, but the Legion is a ruthless power to be reckoned with. They do not hesitate to kill any Shadowborn they may come across." His gloved fingers tightened their hold, keeping Owen in place as his vision blurred.

"In my time spent as a Wielder in Luthien, I can tell you that the Legion never tolerated any sort of ideas pertaining to opening the Gate. That's why they stripped me of my title and exiled me from the creed. But I had plans. I was determined." His eyes searched Owen's face too deeply, and it unnerved him. "There was a Shadowborn in our grasp and we had killed him. Not by my hand, but theirs. The Legion, Owen, they are the enemy. Not me."

Owen tried to move out of his grip, but the man jerked his face back to him and grabbed Owen's arm, keeping him still. "In the last twenty-three years, I have devoted my life to finding another Shadowborn. It is why I became a Hunter and offer guidance along the Silent Road. I have seen many Astrans Cleansed, watching and waiting, only to be disappointed each time. And then Thomas, the innocent fool, tells me that Amias has written to him that he is leaving the country with his only nephew.

"He had no idea of my plan, had no idea he was dealing with a Hunter that steered Astrans to Coopersburgh for Cleansing. I had to be sure, you see, and Quinnby was excellent at Cleansing Astrans. It's been exhausting work, but when I found out about you and Amias coming, I agreed, at Thomas's request, to take you along the Silent Road. And when I looked upon you that first time at the bar, I knew you were Jensen's son."

Tears ran down Owen's cheeks. He could no longer hold them back. This man had acted as a friendly guide, then betrayed him and hunted him down.

Rem hesitated before he said, "I need you for a plan I've been obsessed with for thirty years. The Legion, they only want to kill you, but I can give your life purpose. You can reverse this curse over you, one that will only continue to destroy you. You must accept your fate, Owen." He drew close to his face. "I want you to open the Gate of the netherworld in Vanhelm."

He is mad.

Owen's stomach dropped, his heart going with it. He imagined the drawing of the Gate in Vanhelm in Bridge's scrolls, set within the massive graveyard with nothing in front of it or behind it. A supposed portal to the Unseen Vale where spirits lie, where his own bloodline dwelled.

Mordren.

Rem removed his hands from Owen and stepped back, standing straight and reserved now, as if he hadn't just boldly proclaimed a mad plan that might destroy the world.

Rem drew in a breath. "My hunt has come to an end. And I will ask you one more time if you would join us."

"You know the answer is no," Owen hissed.

"What if I could promise you power, Owen? Perhaps riches? What is the one thing you desire more than anything?" Rem's smile softened. "No, you don't want any of those things, do you? You would much rather have peace. To live the rest of your days with your lover in a place where the Legion will never bother you, where you will always be safe." Rem stared at him with a strange hunger in his eyes. "I can give you that too. A world free of the Legion. All you have to do is trust me."

"There's no such thing. I've hidden within the Legion's shadow for twenty-two years. There's nothing you can do to ever stop the Wielders from coming after me, there's nowhere I can hide and be safe."

"There's always a way, Owen. The answer lies within the Gate. If you open it, I can make all of those things happen."

Owen shook his head, eyes still burning with tears. "I will never open the Gate. You can rip me limb from limb, but I'm not going anywhere with you."

"No?" Rem smiled crookedly and placed his hands behind his back. "But if I rip Colt from limb to limb, then what?"

That fear came back instantly, and Owen's heart trembled. "He has nothing to do with this."

"I say he has everything to do with it. Him, Gilda, Brom. The fate of their lives depends completely on you. If you will not join me and allow me to mentor you, then I will have to use force. Do I make myself clear?"

Owen lowered his head and closed his eyes as angry tears burned down his cheeks. He didn't want to think of the awful things Rem and his men would do to his companions if he didn't comply. He could gain them all safety, for now, just as he had done in the prison at Covehaven. Owen could agree without a fight in order to protect Colt.

I did it for him then, I'll do it for him now. For all of them.

And then there was that word again: mentor. "What do you mean by saying you will be my mentor?"

"I have an… interest in Astran abilities, particularly Shadowborns. You are capable of much, and I want to do my part in aiding you for what you were born to do."

"And what's that?" Owen sneered.

The slick smile on Rem's face reminded Owen of slime. Why couldn't he read this man's energy? What secret was he holding under all of this? When the man tried to run his hand down Owen's cheek, Owen flinched and batted his hand away.

"Don't you dare touch me," he spat. "It's unwanted, and I hate you."

"I won't pretend that your lovely face doesn't get my cock stirring. But rest assured, I am not a man of force when it comes to matters of lust." He backed away and glanced at the window.

"How noble of you. But you're forgetting one thing in all of this. Even with all your threats to make me open that Gate, every lock needs a key," Owen said through his teeth, trying to keep his voice steady.

"And we have one. Didn't you know?" Rem smiled as he removed Owen's dagger from his belt. He pulled it from its leather sheath and held it up.

"Your dagger is the key, Owen. Your mother must have taken it with her when she fled with Amias, which I find very curious." He turned to face him, running his finger along the dagger's edge before stowing it inside his coat. "Your decision either paints this house red, or everyone here stays alive. I will not have mercy. So, what will your choice be?"

"I'll do it," he whispered quickly, because any hesitation from him could make Rem second-guess sparing his companions. This man would kill every one of them if Owen messed this up. And he had no choice if he wanted Bridge's family to live, for Colt, Gilda, and Brom to live.

Rem stepped forward and patted Owen's wet cheek, and Owen flinched away. "Good boy. Who knew that pretty face could become so distraught over losing those dear to you?" He pulled away and stepped toward the hearth. "We'll leave now. You will speak to no one about any of this. If your friends try to get away, they'll be killed."

Owen closed his eyes, swallowing hard. No… he wouldn't say anything. He didn't want his friends—no—his family to follow him. "Aren't there… Legion soldiers at the Gate?" he asked.

"Legion soldiers abandoned the Gate when the Horggs and other mysterious creatures seeped into the graveyard almost ten years ago. The graveyard is its own protector. It kills, it confuses, it drives men mad."

"And you have a plan to evade all that?" Owen let out a breath. He already knew of the dangers within the graveyard. But Rem speaking as if the whole place had a mind of its own terrified him.

Rem smiled cruelly. "Oh, Owen, don't you trust me?"