Messenger (Guardian Trilogy Prequel 1) (23 page)

Alban choked and nearly dropped the mug from which he’d been drinking. “Won’t…allow?” Alban argued through a cough, but I cut him off.

“So, they won’t be staying, not tonight or any night after. This is not their battle.”

Hermina blinked back astonishment. “Not our battle?” She didn’t respond for several long seconds as her face fell into understanding. Once she fully grasped the concept that she deemed so important, she spoke again, to convince me of it.

“You see what Friedricha hasn’t grasped yet,” Hermina said with an unwavering belief in her perception, “is that we are a different breed, us messengers. We live on the outskirts of societal rules while working within it, and it is a lonely place on that border. So, over time we have banded together, shared insights, secrets of our trade. We have
helped
each other. And that is what we are doing here, now. Helping a fellow messenger in need.”

“And now our little band has expanded even further!” Alban shouted, lifting his mug to the sky. While we all knew what he meant, that the guardians were now accepted into our family, he couldn’t pass up the idea of playing off the double meaning. Stumbling to his feet, he cupped the edge of his trousers with a thumb and wiggled them out from his robust belly. “Our little band has expanded indeed!”

Hoots and cheers, along with a few jeers, resounded from the circle, coming from guardians too.

Despite Hermina’s hard gaze, I stood and headed for the tent. On my way, I bent down and whispered my final request into her ear, knowing she was the one person who had the authority to make them listen.

“Dislodge the dead weight from that band,” I said. “Let me go, before one of you gets hurt.”

I then made my way through the small bushes and in through the tent flap. It was empty inside, being early in the evening. The moment the flap fell, it flipped up again and Eran entered.

“You’re serious about this, aren’t you? Do you realize how much help you will need when the Fallen Ones-”

“If,” I countered.

The two of us stopped at the foot of my bed, where our conversation would be private now.

Undeterred, he insisted, “When the Fallen Ones find you…and they will find you, Magdalene… they will hurt you and when they are done hurting you they will destroy you. They are the worst kind of humanity, Magdalene. They have no empathy, they have no remorse. They follow no social mores or structure. There is only what they want and how they can get it.”

“I know,” I muttered, weaker than I would have liked.

“Do you?” he challenged.

“I do,” I said firmer. “That’s why I can’t let those people out there take the brunt of what the Fallen Ones will be bringing. I couldn’t live with that on my conscience…Could you?”

With an amazing amount of aggravation, he turned his head to the side, closed his eyes, and exhaled. I thought he might say something but I didn’t give him the chance, electing to ask the question that had been pestering me since he admitted he’d found someone he had feelings for.

“Why do you care so much about me, Eran?” I asked.
Why aren’t you with her?
I thought.

He blinked in surprise and settled back on his heels. “I do,” he said, his luster for the argument gone. “I do care about you, Magdalene. More than I should.” His face grew stern again. “And you’re lucky I do, because you clearly don’t.”

I nodded, letting my head fall to my chest. Lifting it, I met his eyes, which were hard and impassioned. “Thank you for caring. But I am not your ward. You are not my guardian. That is the way it is and that is the way it will always be.”

He stared at me a brief moment longer, evaluating me, the situation, and his options, but in the end he discovered what I already knew…that despite the guardians’ muscles, their fancy weapons, and years of conquests, messengers held the power.

He walked away from me then, and with each step my longing for him grew. I wanted to tell him to stop, that I was sorry, that I was wrong. But he did stop halfway to the tent opening.

“Why do you oppose me, Magdalene?”

Here it was. My chance to bring him back to me, to make peace. And yet as I looked at his stunning, handsome face and caught the curves of his strong features against the dim light in the tent, I couldn’t bring myself to take it. I wanted him beside me, without question, but I couldn’t allow him to risk his safety in order for him to be there.

“Because I am not your responsibility.”

He shook his head, his expression part frustration and part empathy. He knew my decision was firm then and with nothing more to say or do, he left.

I laid down and closed my eyes, knowing that I had released Eran. That realization was crushing. He would now go to the girl who owned his heart. They would live happily ever after. The very idea of it gave me stomach pains, making me feel as if someone was now cutting into my hollowed gut.

I curled onto my side as I lay in bed, waiting for exhaustion to overcome me, encouraging it. The tears came quickly, soaking my face and dampening my makeshift straw pillow. My body was kind to me then, because I fell asleep.

When I awoke in the Hall of Records, my sadness hadn’t lifted but at least I had my work to distract me. I went about pulling scrolls and visiting the loved ones for those on earth, actively dedicating myself to avoiding all thoughts of Eran. Of course, it didn’t work. Memories of him, the way he’d look at me sometimes, the way he’d held my chin at the river and touched my neck in the tent, the flecks of gold in his blue-green eyes, all of them somehow found their way into my consciousness.

My only reprieve was that I didn’t encounter any of the messengers who had heard my complaint at the fire. I’d dealt with enough resistance for one night.

There was some relief in knowing, however, that when I awoke in my shell on earth no one would be there. They came to protect me, which I appreciated, but I had released them. They would be gone now, Eran, Baily, Hermina, all of them. And they would be safe.

But when I was finally pulled back to earth and I stepped out into the crisp, cool morning air, more tents were erected. Sitting outside them, acting as sentries, were the guardians I’d asked to leave the night before. Eran included.

CHAPTER NINETEEN: LEGEND

I
T WAS AS IF NO ONE
heard a word I’d said the night before. Even as I stood there, messengers who I’d seen down the hall a few moments earlier began crawling out of their tents, their mood upbeat as they started the day calling out to each other.

Eran stepped up beside me, settling into a firm stance that told me he would be moving only when I did.

I felt a complex blend of relief and irritation at seeing him and our camp come alive around us. We didn’t immediately exchange words as messengers and their guardians moved in between small, loose groups.

Then I noticed that one person was missing.

“Hermina is gone,” I uttered.

“Yes, she is,” he said, his accent thicker today.

My shoulders dropped some, relaxing at the realization that she had listened to me and that maybe she would start a trend.

“You didn’t sleep well,” I commented.

“We were busy preparing the camp.”

“So you are staying,” I said flatly.

“Magdalene,” he said, his voice low enough for only my ears, “there’s something you’re going to need to learn.”

When he didn’t follow that declaration with another, I rotated my head toward him, which was what he was waiting for. His gorgeous face was fixed in steely resolve.

“
I
determine who is my responsibility. Not you.”

With that, he left me and strode forward, merging with the crowd.

I stood, duly chastised, oddly excited by his resilience while battling my tenacity for independence. There didn’t seem to be a happy conclusion to that battle and it occurred to me then that Eran and I were faced with the same challenge: neither of us gave in easily.

His body and movement, so strong and willful, stood out to me, despite the size of other guardians. He had a presence that seemed to shout without words not to deny him what he wanted.

We didn’t interact again until noon. I had just finished taking my first round of messages when I stepped outside the tent for fresh air. Movement caught my eye and I found yet another group coming over the nearby hill. And they were escorted by none other than Hermina herself.

“Looks like Heath has arrived,” Claudius mumbled from his guard position at the head of another tent.

He happened to be sitting directly next to Eran, whose eyes I could feel locked on me.

I intended to sighed, although it came out as more of a groan.

“I see you know him too,” Claudius said, having misread my reaction. “He does have a predilection toward making sure he is recognized.”

Even from a distance I could hear his voice, deep and booming. While I hadn’t met him before I did know his ward. Ariela, who walked beside him, was known for her ability to spend days sleeping on earth, allowing plenty of time in the afterlife to deliver highly-detailed messages. Her dark eyes were perceptive, picking up on minutiae that most others did not, which were often conveyed to those in the afterlife. Beside them was an older man by the name of Hoffstedler, a messenger known for his patience and ability to keep a secret. At the end of the line was Caius, a guardian known for spending time in the Hall of Records placing wagers with Alban. Knowing both would now be present, I mentally prepared myself for unsettling bets and ensuing arguments about who had actually won them.

“Good,” Cilla remarked, joining our small group to watch the newcomers. “Safety in numbers.”

“And they won’t be the last,” Eran warned from behind us, which I knew was a remark meant for me.

The group made their way down the small hill, disappearing behind a cluster of tents and re-emerging a few yards away.

“Ho ho!” Heath bellowed eccentrically. “A welcoming party!”

“Heath,” Claudius said with a restrained tip of his head.

“Claudius,” he retorted with a wavering smile. “I see you’ve broadened around the middle.”

Claudius gave him a tight grin.

“And who is this little lady?” Heath asked, stopping at me, which was a sure sign he already knew.

“I go by Friedricha.”

“Ah…” He smiled and bent down to me. Keeping his voice low, he said, “The messenger who we are hearing so much about these days. It is an honor to meet you. Anyone who can rile up the Fallen Ones the way you have deserves commendation.”

“Thank you,” I said through a smile.

But he wasn’t finished with his praise. Taking my hand, he brought the top of my palm to his lips.

Eran suddenly appeared beside me, a good part of his attention on where Heath’s lips currently rested. Ariela glanced between the two of us, her eyebrows dipping briefly as she picked up on something that I missed.

The moment Health saw Eran, he released me and straightened under Eran’s watchful eyes. “Colonel.”

“Heath.”

As if to save Heath from further potential embarrassment, his ward stepped in.

“From what we’ve been hearing, you’re going to need all the help you can get,” Ariela said. “And when you need it, it’ll be here.”

Eran tipped his head graciously.

Heath’s lively greeting had driven the rest of the messengers from their tents by then and they began to gather around us.

“We have tents but little else,” Eran announced. “We’ll need to work together on resources. Hoffstedler will organize us. Be diligent. Our enemies are furtive and they tend to work alone, which will make them harder to identify. And as you know, they are on their way here or have already arrived and are waiting for an opportune time to strike.”

Alban chuckled darkly from behind us. “Which I’ll bet will be sooner rather than later.”

“Ordinarily I’d take that bet,” said Caius, his ever loyal gambling opponent, “but for once I agree with Alban. This particular bounty has them riled.”

Eran clapped a hand on Caius’ shoulder, “It’s good of you to come. Good of all of you to come.” He paused to evaluate them. “We follow only one rule here…no appendages.»

Heads tipped in acknowledgement.

The remainder of the day was spent with guardians and messengers working together to set up another camp, an extension to the one the peasants had built. So as the peasants plotted the demise of the nobles, our enemies plotted mine. Hoffstedler kept my mind from dwelling on this fact by delegating the camp cooking to me. Until then we had subsisted on food from the other camp, as payment for the delivery of their messages. Now, there were too many of us to continue to accept those favors. So I was given the command of the camp kitchen, which I used to make fowl stew. Intermittently, as I chopped and stirred, I took and delivered messages to those who stopped by.

Eran never left my side. Even though he had feelings for another girl and he had been released as my guardian, he was just as diligent in his protection over me as ever. When night fell, the fire was stoked and I proudly introduced my soup as he escorted me outside.