Guardian (17 page)

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Authors: Sam Cheever

BOOK: Guardian
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“Zillah.”

Tana smiled. “Zillah, you will be yourself again in a day or two. In the interim, please consider yourself my guest. As soon as you are able you may leave this bed and take some exercise. It will speed your healing.”

The girl’s intent gaze locked on Tana’s. She seemed as if she wanted to say something but was reluctant. Finally she took a little breath and lifted her arm from the bed. “Will you remove this, my queen?”

Tana shook her head. “Not just yet, girl. If you should relapse and disappear we would be unable to minister to you. We’ll leave it on for now.”

Fear reappeared in the girl’s eyes briefly, before she forced a smile and sent it to the back of her consciousness. I knew exactly how she felt. Glancing down at my own metal bracelet I frowned. When I looked up I caught Ian watching me.

His eyes burned into mine for a long moment and then he turned away. I got the sense that he knew more about the bracelet than he was letting on.

I stared at him, frowning slightly.

He ignored me.

Tana’s voice brought my attention back to the bed. “Bring me the green.” She instructed the servant woman who’d been watching over the young shadow. The woman quickly complied and Tana dispensed several fingers of the thick potion into a small glass. Handing it to the girl on the bed she smiled at the girl’s grimace when she sniffed it. “Drink every drop, young woman. It will go far toward returning color to those pale cheeks.”

“What is it?” The girl asked.

Tana patted the pale hand still resting among the covers. “I don’t give my secrets away, child.” She glanced meaningfully toward Ian. He responded with a soft smile.

With a couple of final instructions to the servant woman, Tana turned away and strode purposefully from the room. “I’ll meet you at the horses in one sweep of the clock, Ian.”

When she’d left the room Ian grabbed my hand. “Let’s go.”

I let him drag me to the door and waited while he opened it a crack and peered out. After a moment he opened the door wider and pulled me through. “They have Etta in the caves. We need to get to her.”

“And quickly. She’s managed to escape them a couple of times already. She might already be gone.”

He shook his head. “She must have come here looking for us. If that’s true she won’t leave until she’s seen us.” He reached into his pocket and, just as several guards marched out of Tana’s rooms, threw a handful of sparkling dust over our heads.

We watched the guards stop and jerk their heads toward the spot where we’d been and then hurry toward where we stood. “We need to hurry.” Ian told me. “They’ll surely investigate.”

Traveling in Ian’s layer, we made it through the castle grounds and to the caves on the outskirts in mere moments. A sudden bustling aspect to the grounds told us more than anything that the search was on for intruders.

Two tall, leanly muscled faery guards leaned against the mouth of the cave, laughing and talking as we approached. We slid quickly past them.

Once inside the cave I shivered. Not from the cold or damp I could smell on the air, I was immune to that inside the travel layer, but from my memories of another cave in another part of the Faery Wood. Filled with nightmares on wings with gore coated teeth.

We traveled deeply into the caves, to the innermost cell, where I knew the magical and physical restraints were thickest. Outside Etta’s cell, nodding in a small, hard chair, an enormous black-skinned faery guard kept a negligent vigil.

We stepped out of the layer and Ian lashed out, knocking the guard backward into the rock wall behind the chair. His head cracked hard against the rock and he slid bonelessly to the ground, landing in a whale sized puddle beside the door.

I searched for keys but found none.

Ian shook his head. “They use magic signatures. No keys.”

“Then how are we gonna open the door?”

Ian leaned over the puddle of faery flesh on the floor and placed a hand on the unconscious guard’s forehead. A warm light throbbed beneath Ian’s splayed fingers. After a moment the guard’s eyes flickered open and he struggled to his feet.

I watched in amazement as he moved, zombielike, to the cell door and placed an enormous, black hand over the lock.

Cool blue sparks flew from the guard’s hand and the door clicked open. The guard turned away and moved to stand beside the door, his thick arms bowed at his sides and his long, brown eyes staring straight ahead, sightless.

Ian quickly moved past him and into the cell. I turned sideways and slid around the guard, keeping my eyes trained carefully on his face. He didn’t move or acknowledge me in any way. I reached out and poked him, one hand on my long knife.

He just stood there.

I flicked his nose with one finger.

He didn’t flinch.

I grinned. My hand was reaching toward the firm round buttock closest to me when Ian’s voice hailed me from the darkness of the cell.

Damn!
I was never allowed to have any fun. Slightly miffed, I turned and headed into the cell’s gloomy interior, understanding full well the hell that awaited me there.

I was going to try to reason with a pissed off and terminally uncooperative guardian angel, fully aware that my request was not going to be received well.

Sighing, I put a hand back on my long knife and took a step into the cell. I would take my medicine, face my demons, take my hits. But all I could think of as I turned my eyes to the interior of that cell were the words of an ancient human saying…Hell hath no fury like an Angel spurned.

Or something like that…

Chapter
Ten

 

Promises and Recriminations

 

A
t first all I saw was Ian. He stood in the center of the dark cell, a circle of light surrounding him. The rest of the cell was pitched in inky darkness, and smelled really bad.

Ian was staring toward a spot deep in the shadows. He didn’t turn as I joined him. Standing outside the circle of light, I placed a hand on my long knife.

A soft chuckle followed my action. “You think to kill me with a knife, spirit?”

Etta’s voice was rusty with disuse. It held a note of such deep anger I suddenly worried for my life. I knew she was compelled to use God’s magic only for protection and for good. But I was pretty sure she could figure out a way to bend the rules if she was mad enough.

I forced my shoulders to unclench enough so I could give what I hoped was a casual shrug. “You never know what monsters hide in the shadows, angel.”

My eyes narrowed as the shadows moved and a small, pale form emerged from them. She was naked, filthy, and looked as if she hadn’t eaten in days. A deep gouge, crusted with dried blood and dirt, ran from one naked shoulder across the slight rise of one breast and disappeared around the side of her narrow waist. It looked like a claw mark. She stood as straight as she could but she appeared to have a damaged wing, it hung heavily off to one side, dragging on the ground behind her.

“Holy shit, Etta! What happened to you?”

Her small mouth tightened, lips thinning as she gave her dark head a quick shake. She forced her bowed shoulders upright and crossed thin arms over her chest. “That’s none of your concern, Monad. Get out of my cell. Now!”

I frowned, glancing at Ian. His brown eyes swung toward me, fixed on me for a moment as if trying to send a silent message, and then swung back toward Etta.

I took a couple of steps backward, reluctant to turn my back on her, and then finally turned and left the cell. Outside, I leaned against the cool rock wall and took deep breaths. Lifting my hands I saw that they were shaking. Etta’s condition had startled me. As much as I disliked the little guardian, I had never seen her so abused, so feeble, so scared.

Though she’d tried to keep the fear from her gaze it had been shining clearly there for me to see. I looked up as Ian and Etta appeared in the doorway, he had removed his tunic and slipped it over a shivering Etta. “Let’s get her out of here.”

I nodded, just as the sound of running feet sounded in the winding, dirt pathways of the cave. Heading toward us.

Ian reached into his pocket. I moved close and he flung the dust into the air above our heads. We moved quickly past Tana’s soldiers and hurried out of the caves.

“Where will we take her?”

Ian glanced at me, his arm still supporting the wobbly guardian. “Back to the castle. Tana won’t harm her if I tell her she’s under our protection.”

Etta’s eyes slid upward in horror. “No! I won’t go back there!”

I frowned at her. “Back there? You’ve been in the castle?”

Etta just glared at me, looking up at Ian with pleading eyes. “Please, I can’t go back to Tana. She’ll kill me this time.”

Ian frowned and opened his mouth to argue. It was obvious to both of us that he didn’t believe Tana was capable of going against his wishes. Etta didn’t want to take that chance and I had my own set of reservations about the faery queen. She was about as ruthless as they came, and she apparently had reason to distrust Etta.

“Let’s get her out of the Wood, Ian. What harm can it do?”

He sighed and finally nodded. “Reaching down he put an arm under Etta’s legs and pulled her into his arms. She started to protest but he shook his head. “It’s faster this way. You can barely walk.”

I thought I saw a spark of relief in the little guardian’s eyes before she lowered her lashes. After only a few strides her filthy, matted head dropped to Ian’s chest and it looked like she slept.

We covered the ground of the Wood quickly, heading for the nearest border, so that we could get Etta away from the magic that terrified and poisoned her as quickly as possible. We stopped only once, taking water at a cool, fast flowing stream.

Finally, as the sun dipped behind the distant line of mountains we stepped wearily out of the Wood. Ian seemed to sag in obvious exhaustion as he moved to a grassy area and lay a still sleeping Etta down on the thick, fragrant grass.

He nearly fell down beside her, lying on his back in exhaustion.

I stood looking around, rubbing my arms as the night air turned to chill. “We’ll need to find shelter.”

Ian grunted but didn’t move.

I couldn’t help razzing him a little. “You’re this tired from carrying that tiny little angel a few miles?”

He snorted. “She may look small but after several hours she started to feel like a boulder.”

“I heard that.” Etta sat up with a groan. She pushed matted black hair out of her eyes, looking around. “Are we out?”

I nodded.

Sighing, she tugged Ian’s tunic further down on her skinny legs. “I’d give up a wing for a bath.”

Ian pushed himself to his feet, jerking his head toward the long line of rock ahead. “Those foothills have caves. I know of one with a hot, mineral pool in it.”

Etta closed her eyes, moaning. “That sounds like heaven.” Then she seemed to realize what she’d said and her gaze jerked to me, daring me to make a snide remark.

I threw my hands up, palms out, shaking my head. The last thing I wanted to do was piss her off any more than she already was.

Ian pulled Etta to her feet and the three of us started the long trudge toward the wall of rock and dirt in the distance.

I took up the rear, my head swiveling, eyes watchful. I was fully aware that we were still close enough to the Wood for magical interference. Etta carried herself stiffly, with a weary droop to her narrow shoulders. But her chin rose higher with every step. She was still angry, and she wasn’t going to get over it until she’d had her say.

I sighed, knowing that would need to happen as soon as we were safely ensconced in a warm, dry cave.

All I wanted to do was sleep and eat. But I doubted I’d get to do either any time soon.

I rubbed dejectedly at the damnable metal band around my wrist, and prayed I’d be able to talk Etta into helping us. Because if she refused. I didn’t know how I was going to stop the entire magical world from exploding around us.

And the human world along with it.

~ ~
*
~ ~

 

Ian showed us where the mineral pool was and then left. I knew he was thinking he’d let us bitch slap each other until we’d gotten it out of our systems. I watched him leave with a deep sense of horror. I knew the angel and I were about to get into a girly type emotion laundering experience.

My idea of laundry is a quick, ruthless slap, swish, and swipe. I’m not much into submerging and wallowing.

I
hate
emotional laundry.

Sighing, I watched her pull Ian’s tunic off her filthy, battered body and step into the healing waters of the pool. She folded her wings tight against her back and lowered herself to her neck with a happy sigh. Her eyes closed and she leaned her head against the rock edge of the pool, allowing the water to heat and soothe her soreness away.

I stood watching her, reluctant to drop in my quarters and push the start button.

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