The Golden Lily (34 page)

Eddie and Angeline were gone for a while and finaly returned, angry at how long the restaurant had taken. “I didn’t think we weren’t going to be back in time,” said Eddie. “I was afraid you wouldn’t get food before your mission.”

“I don’t even know if I can eat,” I admitted. Despite my earlier brave words, I was starting to grow nervous. “Oh, you can keep those in case you need the car.” He’d walked over to my purse with the keys and dropped them in anyway. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

He shrugged and then fished the keys out again. Adrian, to my surprise, watched him with narrowed eyes and seemed upset about something. I couldn’t keep up with his moods today. He stood up and walked over to Eddie. After a few moments, they moved even farther away and seemed to be having a whispered argument, with his moods today. He stood up and walked over to Eddie. After a few moments, they moved even farther away and seemed to be having a whispered argument, one that involved a few glances at me. Everyone else looked uncomfortable and suddenly jumped in with any looked uncomfortable and suddenly jumped in with any conversation topics they could find. I could only stare back and forth, feeling like I had missed something important.

Trey caled me at seven on the dot, saying he was waiting out front. I rose from my chair and picked up the sword, taking a deep breath. “Wish me luck.”

“I’ll walk you out,” said Adrian.

“Adrian,” warned Dimitri.

Adrian roled his eyes. “I know, I know. Don’t worry. I promised.”

Promised what? Nobody elaborated. There wasn’t far to walk since he lived on the ground floor, but when we stepped outside, he caught hold of me, his hands resting on my arms. A jolt went through me, both at the touch and the unexpected gesture. His only displays of tenderness were usualy with Jil.

“Sage,” he said. “For real. Be careful. Don’t be a hero—

we’ve got plenty of them back there. And … no matter what happens, I want you to know that I never doubted what you’re going to do. It’s smart, and it’s brave.”

“You sound like it’s already happened and failed,” I said.

“No, no. I just … wel, I want you to know that I trust you.”

“Okay,” I said, feeling a little puzzled. I again had the feeling that I wasn’t being told something. “Hopefuly my plan will work.” I needed to walk away, out of Adrian’s grasp, but couldn’t quite do it. I was hesitant to go, for some reason. There was safety and comfort there. Once I left, I realy was walking into safety and comfort there. Once I left, I realy was walking into the lion’s den. I lingered a few moments more, safe in the circle we made, and then reluctantly slipped away.

“Please be careful,” he repeated. “Come back safe.”

“I wil.” On impulse I took off my cross necklace and pressed it into his hand. “This time, keep it for real. Hold onto it until I return. If you get too worried, look at it and know that I’ll have to come back for it. It goes realy well with khakis and neutral colors.” I worried he would give it back, but he simply nodded and squeezed the cross tight. I walked away, feeling slightly vulnerable without it, but hoped it reassured him. My discomfort suddenly seemed like a small thing. I wanted Adrian to be okay.

I got into the passenger seat of Trey’s car and immediately gave him the sword. He looked about as miserable as he had earlier. “You sure you want to go through with this?” Why did everyone keep asking me that? “Yes. Absolutely.”

“Let me see your cell phone.”

I handed it over, and he turned it off. He gave it back, along with a blindfold. “I’ll trust you to put this on yourself.”

“Thanks.”

I started to slip it on and then, on impulse, looked back toward the building one last time. Adrian was still standing there, hands in his pockets, face concerned.

Seeing my gaze, he managed a small smile and raised one hand in … what?

Farewel? A benediction? I didn’t know, but it made me feel better. The last thing I saw was the flash of the cross in the sunlight, just before I covered my eyes with the blindfold.

sunlight, just before I covered my eyes with the blindfold.

I was plunged into darkness.

I’D SEEN MOVIES where blindfolded people were able to tell where they were going, based on some innate talent to sense motion and direction. Not me. After a few turns, I couldn’t have told you where in Palm Spring we were—especialy since I suspected Trey was taking a slightly roundabout way in order to make sure there wasn’t a tail. The only thing I was certain of was when we got on I-10, simply because of the feel of the freeway.

I didn’t know what direction we were headed and had no way to accurately time how long we traveled either.

Trey didn’t offer much in the way of conversation, though he did give short answers whenever I asked questions. “When did you join the vampire hunters?”

“Warriors of Light,” he corrected. “And I was born into it.”

“That’s why you’re always talking about family pressure and why so much is expected of you, isn’t it? It’s why your dad is so concerned about your athletic performance.” I took Trey’s silence as an affirmative and pushed on, needing to get as much information as possible. “How often do you guys have your, um, meetings? Are you always having those brutal tests?” Until very recently, there had been nothing to suggest tests?” Until very recently, there had been nothing to suggest Trey’s life was much different from any other high school athlete who kept up with his grades, a job, and an active social life. In fact, thinking of all the things Trey usualy did, it was hard to imagine him having any time at all for the Warriors.

“We don’t have regular meetings,” he said. “Wel, not someone at my level. We wait until we’re caled, usualy because a hunt’s under way. Or sometimes we conduct competitions, in order to test our strength. Our leaders travel around, and then Warriors gather from all different places in order to be ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“The day when we can end the vampire scourge altogether.”

“And you realy believe this hunt is the way to do it? That it’s the right thing to do?”

“Have you ever seen them?” he asked. “The evil, undead vampires?”

“I’ve seen quite a few of them.”

“And you don’t think they should be destroyed?”

“That’s not what I’ve been trying to tell you. I don’t have any love for Strigoi, believe me. My point is that Sonya’s not one of them.” More silence.

Eventualy, I felt us exit the freeway. We drove for a while longer until the car slowed again and turned, onto a gravel road.

We soon came to a stop, and Trey roled down the window.

“This is her?” asked an unknown man.

“Yes,” said Trey.

“You turned off her cell phone?”

“You turned off her cell phone?”

“Yes.”

“Take her in then. They’ll do the rest of the search.” I heard a squeaking gate open, and then we continued on the gravel road until turning onto what felt like packed dirt. Trey stopped the car and turned it off. He opened his door at the same time someone on the outside opened mine. A hand on my shoulder nudged me forward.

“Come on. Get out.”

“Be careful with her,” warned Trey.

I was led from the car into a building. It wasn’t until I heard a door shut and latch that my blindfold was finaly taken off. I was in a stark room with unfinished drywal and bare bulb lights in the ceiling. Four other people stood around Trey and me, three men and one woman. All of them looked to be in their twenties, and two were the guys who had stopped me at the café. Also, all of them were armed.

“Empty out your purse.” It was Jeff, the guy with buzzed dark hair, wearing a gold earring of the antique sun symbol.

I complied, dumping my purse’s contents onto a makeshift table composed of plywood set on top of some cinderblocks.

While they sifted through it, the woman patted me down for wires. She had hair with a bad bleach job and a perennial snarl on her face, but at least her frisk was professional and efficient.

“What’s this?” Blond Hair from the café held up a small plastic bag filed with dried herbs and flowers. “You don’t look like the drug type.”

“It’s potpourri,” I said promptly.

“It’s potpourri,” I said promptly.

“It’s potpourri,” I said promptly.

“You keep potpourri in your purse?” he asked disbelievingly.

I shrugged. “We keep all sorts of things around. I took out all the acids and chemicals before I came here, though.” He dismissed the potpourri as harmless and tossed it into a pile with other cleared items, like my walet, hand sanitizer, and a plain wooden bracelet. I noticed then that the pile also included a pair of earrings. They were round gold discs, covered in intricate swirls and tiny gems. They were beautiful—but I’d never seen them before.

I certainly wasn’t going to call attention to anything, however, particularly when the woman snatched up my cell phone. “We should destroy this.”

“I turned it off,” said Trey.

“She might turn it back on. It can be tracked.”

“She wouldn’t,” argued Trey. “Besides, that’s a little paranoid, isn’t it? No one has that kind of technology in real life.”

“You’d be surprised,” she said.

He held out his hand. “Give it to me. I’ll keep it safe. She’s here on good faith.”

The woman hesitated until Jeff nodded. Trey slipped the phone into his pocket, and I was grateful. There were a lot of saved numbers that would be a pain to replace. Once my purse was deemed safe, I was alowed to put it back together and take it with me.

“Okay,” said Blond Hair. “Let’s go to the arena.” Arena? I had a hard time picturing what that would entail in a Arena? I had a hard time picturing what that would entail in a place like this. My vision in the silver plate hadn’t shown me much of the building, save that it was single-story and had a ratty, worn look to it. This room seemed to be keeping right along with that theme. If the antiquated brochures were further proof of the Warriors’ sense of style, I expected this “arena” to be in someone’s garage.

I was wrong.

Whatever the Warriors of Light had lacked in other areas of their operation, they’d sunk it into the arena—or, as I was told its official name was, The Arena of Divine Radiance of Holy Gold. The arena had been built upon a clearing surrounded by several buildings. I wouldn’t go so far as to call it a courtyard. It was bigger, and the ground was more of that sandy packed dirt we’d driven in on. This setup was far from polished or high tech, yet as I took it all in, I couldn’t help but think of Trey saying the Warriors had come to town this week.

Because for them to have put this together so quickly … wel, it was kind of impressive. And frightening. Two sets of rickety wooden bleachers had been erected on opposite sides of the space. One set held about fifty spectators, mostly men, of varying ages. Their eyes, suspicious and even hostile, were on me as I was led in. I could practicaly feel their gazes boring into my tattoo. Did they all know about the Alchemists and our history? They were all dressed in ordinary clothing, but here and there, I caught glimmers of gold. Many of them wore some kind of ornament—a pin, an earring, etc.—with either an ancient or modern sun symbol.

modern sun symbol.

The other bleachers were nearly empty. Three men—older, closer to my dad’s age—sat side by side. They were dressed in yelow robes covered in golden embroidery that glittered in the orange light of the setting sun. Golden helmets covered their heads and were engraved with the old sun symbol, the circle with the dot. They watched me as wel, and I kept my head high, hoping I could hide the shaking of my hands. I couldn’t present a convincing case for Sonya if I seemed intimidated.

Around the arena, draped on poles, were banners of all shapes and sizes. They were made of rich, heavy fabric that reminded me of medieval tapestries. Obviously, these weren’t that old, but they nonetheless gave the place a luxurious and ceremonial feel. The banners’ designs varied considerably. Some realy did look straight out of history, showing stylized knights fighting against vampires. Looking at those gave me chils. I realy had stepped back in time, into the fold of a group with a history as old as the Alchemists’. Other banners were more abstract, portraying the ancient alchemical symbols. still others looked modern, depicting the sun on Trey’s back. I wondered if that newer sun interpretation was meant to appeal to today’s youth.

All the while, I kept thinking, less than a week. They put all this together in less than a week. They travel around with all of this, ready to put it up at a moment’s notice in order to conduct these competitions or executions. Maybe they are primitive, but that doesn’t make them any less dangerous.

Although the large crowd of spectators had a rough-and-tumble look to them, like some sort of backwoods militia, it was tumble look to them, like some sort of backwoods militia, it was a relief that they didn’t appear to be armed. Only my escort was.

A dozen guns were still too many for my tastes, but I’d take what I could get—and hope that they mostly kept the guns for show. We reached the bottom of the empty stands, and Trey came to stand beside me.

“This is the high council of the Warriors of Light,” said Trey.

He pointed to each of them in turn. “Master Jameson, Master Angeletti, and Master Ortega. This is Sydney Sage.”

“You are very welcome here, little sister,” said Master Angeletti in a grave voice. He had a long and messy beard. “The time for the healing of our two groups is long overdue. We will be much stronger once we put aside our differences and unite as one.” I gave him the politest smile I could and decided not to point out the Alchemists were unlikely to welcome gun-toting zealots into our ranks. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sirs. Thank you for alowing me to come. I’d like to talk to you about—” Master Jameson held up a hand to stop me. His eyes looked too small for his face. “All in good time. First, we’d like to show you just how diligently we train our youth to fight in the great crusade. Just as you encourage excelence and discipline in the in good time. First, we’d like to show you just how diligently we train our youth to fight in the great crusade. Just as you encourage excelence and discipline in the mind, so too do we encourage it in the body.” Through some unspoken cue, the door we’d just come through opened. A familiar face walked out to the center of the arena: Chris, Trey’s cousin. He was wearing workout pants and no shirt, giving a clear view of the radiating sun tattooed on his no shirt, giving a clear view of the radiating sun tattooed on his back. He had a ferocious look on his face and came to stand in the clearing’s center.

“I believe you’ve met Chris Juarez,” said Master Jameson.

“He’s one of the finalists in this last round of combat. The other, of course, you also know. Quite the irony that cousins should be facing off, but also fitting since both failed in the initial attack on the fiend.”

I turned to Trey, my jaw dropping. “You? You’re one of the … contenders to kill Sonya?” I could barely get the words out. I turned back to the council in alarm. “I was told I’d have a chance to plead Sonya’s case.”

“You wil,” said Master Ortega, in a tone that implied it would be a wasted effort. “But first, we must determine our champion.

Contenders, take your places.”

I noticed now that Trey was also in sweatpants, looking as though he could be going off to football practice. He stripped off his shirt as well and, for lack of anything else to do with it, handed it to me. I took it and kept staring at him, still unable to believe what was happening. He met my gaze briefly but couldn’t hold it. He walked off to join his cousin, and Master Jameson invited me to sit down.

Trey and Chris faced each other. I felt a little embarrassed to be studying two shirtless guys, but it wasn’t like there was anything too sordid happening. My impressions of Chris since the first time I’d met him hadn’t changed. Both he and Trey were in excelent physical shape, muscled and strong with the kinds of bodies that constantly worked and trained. The only advantage bodies that constantly worked and trained. The only advantage Chris had, if it was one, was his height—

which I’d also noticed before. His height. With a jolt, memories of the aley attack came back to me. There’d been little of our attackers to see, but the one wielding the sword had been tal. Chris must have been the one originaly assigned to kill Sonya.

Another robed man appeared from the door. His robes were cut slightly differently from the council’s and somehow sported even more gold embroidery. Rather than a helmet, he wore a headdress more in line with what a priest might have. Indeed, that’s what he seemed to be as Chris and Trey knelt before him.

The priest marked their foreheads with oill and said some kind of blessing I couldn’t hear. Then, to my shock, he made the sign against evil on his shoulder—the Alchemist sign against evil.

I think that, more so than any of the spiels about evil vampires or shared usage of ancient symbols, was what realy drove home the fact that our two groups had once been related. The sign against evil was a small cross drawn on the shoulder with the right hand. It had survived among the Alchemists since ancient days. A chil ran through me. We realy had been one and the same.

When the priest was finished, another man came forward and handed each of the cousins a short, blunt wooden club—kind of like what police sometimes used in crowd control. Trey and Chris turned toward each other, locked in aggressive poses, holding the clubs in striking positions. A buzz of excitement ran through the crowd, as it grew eager for violence. Evening breezes stirred up dust devils around the cousins, but neither of breezes stirred up dust devils around the cousins, but neither of them flinched. I turned to the council incredulously.

“They’re going to attack each other with those clubs?” I asked. “They could be kiled!”

“Oh no,” said Master Ortega, far too calmly. “We haven’t had a death in these trials in years. They’ll take injury, sure, but that just toughens our warriors. All of our young men are taught to endure pain and keep on fighting.”

“Young men,” I repeated. My gaze moved down to the bleach blonde girl who’d brought me in. She was standing near our bleachers, holding her gun at her side.

“What about your women?”