Warrior of the Ages (Warriors of the Ages) (49 page)

The cave was a huge underground canyon of space, switchbacks and paths as far as she could see. Beth had no idea caves could be this enormous! White waterfalls and green streams cascaded in the shimmering light. Cave formations glittered and sparkled from every direction.

“Glory is over,” Kahtar told her. “We’ll try harder to make it next week. Keep moving. Everyone will want to meet you.”

“Everyone!” Beth hung back, looking over the sea of people.

“Yep. You’re practically famous,” he teased, with a reassuring squeeze of her shoulders, and he continued to push her along in front of him.

They passed warriors as they continued down the narrow path. The men deferred to Kahtar, stepping off the smooth surface to allow them to pass, but Beth didn’t miss the looks of stunned surprise shot at her. They were still making their way past warriors, when Honor Monroe stepped into their path and blocked their progress. Kahtar stopped, and Beth felt tension seethe from his hands as he tugged her protectively backwards, wrapping his arms over her middle. Honor held his place and stared at Beth, and she patted Kahtar’s big forearms.

Honor stepped too close, invading her personal space like he always had. The look in his familiar blue eyes told Beth that he still loved her.

“Thank ilu you survived, Beth. I’m so sorry for the way I treated you at your trial. I will find a way to make it up to you someday.”

“You know I forgive you, Honor.” Beth almost reached to take his hand before she sensed the reserve in his heart, noticed his formal stance, the way he didn’t reach for her, and the distance in his eyes. Everything had changed between them. She kept her hands on Kahtar’s.

“It will never be the same though. You’re happy I’m alive but uncomfortable to have someone like me here inside the Arc.” After Beth blurted, she wished she’d bitten her tongue. Honor looked crestfallen, but Beth shrugged. “It’s okay, Honor. It’s the truth.”

“I want to be your friend again, Bethy.” But the way he said her name sounded forced.

“No you don’t, Honor, not really. You want who you thought I was, not who I am. Don’t be upset, we’re still clan, right? I love you too, but I don’t like you as much anymore either.”

Honor pressed his hand against his chest and Beth knew her words had cut. She was sorry for it. Honor nodded then, taking it like he always did. His parents had named him well. Tears shone in his handsome eyes.

“There it is then. The truth really hurts, doesn’t it?” He leaned forward and kissed her lips briefly, then whispered so lightly that barely any sound passed his lips. “I’ll miss you forever.”

When he walked away, Beth realized with surprise that she wouldn’t miss him.

The noise in the cavern was increasing, and Beth leaned against Kahtar and glanced up at him. He nodded at her as the cause of the excitement and her eyes widened in alarm. Her exchange with Honor had surely been overheard. How many of Cultuelle Khristos felt about her the same way Honor did?

Beth looked for truth in nearby faces. Stunned was the feeling she picked up from those nearest her, and Beth knew it was due to the same reason she and Honor would never be friends again. She was a child of blending and they’d never expected to see someone like her in their midst. Beth searched for welcoming faces in the sea of people who were suddenly turning in her direction.

Then one vaguely familiar face stood out in an ocean of curious expressions. In the crowd of identically dressed Warriors of ilu, shimmering Old Guard, and strangers dressed in soft muted fabrics, one person stood out. The woman was short and plump, dressed in an olive drab dress with her red hair wound tightly in a bun. She was stoutly making her way through the crowd using sharp elbows and words, eyes on Beth. Jamming pointy, cat-eye glasses onto her nose she continued forward and Beth gasped, “Kahtar?”

Kahtar squeezed her waist, his chain mail digging into her back.

“Maybe there was a better way to do this,” he murmured.

The redhead in the glasses griped, “You think so, Warrior? You brought a unicorn to a petting zoo.” She smiled at Beth and mouthed the word, “men,” with an exaggerated look towards the heavens.

Kahtar ignored the slight. “This is Abigail, Beth. Abigail Adit. She’s a clan Elder, tesseract maker and warrior eater.”

“Kahtar and I have a special relationship. He worships me, and I tolerate him.”

“Abigail is the sun in her own universe. Prolonged exposure can be hazardous to one’s health.”

“Kahtar!” Abigail looked impressed. “Banter? It’s like you’re developing a personality!” She looked towards Beth and a strange second voice tinkled into Beth’s mind.

“
I knew you’d be good for him.”

Ignoring the crowd, Kahtar turned, holding onto Beth’s hand. He tugged her back up the path. Unable to resist, she looked back at the crowd watching her. Abigail winked at her. There was no doubt about it. Abigail was the same woman. The librarian at the rummage sale who’d told her about the house for sale in the little borough of Willowyth. Beth twisted to look again, just to be certain. Abigail stood on the path behind them and she put one pudgy finger in front of her lips. In the echoing cavern, Beth was certain she heard her whisper, “Shhhh.”

ON THE SHORE of the Great Lake, Kahtar stood in the waves of the rocky beach, water rolling over his boots and buffeting his swords against his legs. Beth stayed dry, perched on a large boulder, arms wrapped around her knees. A herd of buffalo grazed to the west, silhouetted against the afternoon sun. Beth had gone quiet, and he regretted taking her to the cave. Abigail had been right. It had been too much.

“It will be better next week,” he said.

From the throne of boulders Beth looked down at him, she looked more confused than upset, but a smile quirked her lips.

“Who do you think you’re kidding?”

“I meant you’ll get used to the way the clan reacts to you, and it won’t seem so bad in time. You can trust that I’ll never feed you platitudes.”

Beth nodded absently, and Kahtar climbed over rocks to get his boots out of the water. Leaning against the boulder beside Beth, he unbuckled his belt and dropped his swords onto a rock. It echoed so loudly, the buffalo in the distance stopped grazing and looked around.

“The clan simply didn’t expect you to be able to get inside the Arc because of your Seeker blood. As bigoted as that sounds, in all my time I’ve never seen an Orphan enter an Arc either. Don’t take surprise for condemnation, Beth.”

“I’m not,” she reassured, her honest eyes still wide. “Kahtar? How do you feel about arranged marriages?”

“What?”

“Never mind,” she said.

“Covenant Keepers join only for love, so I don’t think they’d work. Do you have someone in mind for Abigail?” He dropped to sit beside her and threw his arm over her shoulders, grinning.

Beth smiled at him, and he studied those appealing lips, full and soft and daring and talented. Kahtar leaned forward to kiss them but three Old Guard flickered into being along the shoreline, standing half in the water, shimmering. The waves didn’t even dampen their legs. Kahtar reluctantly moved his mouth away from Beth’s lips. Against his arm, he felt her silent sigh of disappointment and he pulled her closer.

“If we’re really going to rejoin the world today, I need to make a trip,” Beth said.

“To your parents?”

“That too, but I meant the airport.” She must have seen something in his expression because she tried to lighten the mood by adding, “I need to see a man about a horse.”

He couldn’t believe she’d even try this.

“You’re not getting on any airplanes anymore. It’s forbidden.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, how am I supposed to get places? I can’t keep the store stocked without some trips, Kahtar.” She glanced towards the three Old Guard shimmering on the shore. “And a new order of that brack tea should be ready by now. It can’t be shipped, and they only sell to me, so I have to go get it,” she ended quite loudly.

“Beth! Are you attempting to manipulate Old Guard?”

She grinned at him, and he struggled to hide his amusement, knowing there was no hope. She read him like a book, and he’d just have to get used to it. Smiling ruefully he shot a guilty look at the Old Guard who may or may not have overheard.

“I’ll take care of your travel arrangements and it won’t involve airplanes. It is much faster, too. You can’t go by yourself though. Don’t argue. It’s a clan rule.” Kahtar shifted, tugging his tunic from under him. The chainmail made a zinging sound jouncing off the rock. The stuff wasn’t conducive to romance or sitting on rocks, and Beth didn’t wrap her arm around him. He fingered the stuff. It was a bit sharp. Then he noticed her expression, pretty blue eyes narrowed as she stared over at the Old Guard. A shiver rippled through her and he tightened his arm.

“The Old Guard aren’t transportation, Beth. I meant Abigail will take you wherever you need to go, and she’ll keep you safe.”

“Abigail?”

“You’d be surprised. Do me a favor? She’ll want to show you the world—”

“I’ve seen the world.”

“That won’t matter to Abigail. She’ll keep you away just to torment me. Tell her you like to be home at night.”

“Kahtar, I can’t lie.” For a brief moment he sagged.

Then he wrapped both arms around her and tugged her closer. “Didn’t you learn anything about teasing me the past month? You always pay.”

“I know,” she purred. “That’s why I keep doing it.” Despite the chain mail and the Old Guard standing just yards away, Beth slithered onto his lap and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head against his shoulder. Her hair smelled like sunshine and strawberries.

“Do you really have to go?” she whispered. “Just one more day? It’s Sunday.”

Kahtar motioned towards the Old Guard and they blinked brightly and then vanished. Beth didn’t seem to notice, she snuggled closer, long legs wrapping around his waist.

“You’ve changed me, Beth,” his voice sounded gruff. Beth’s arm’s tightened around his neck.

“Someone had to,” she whispered, and he smiled into her hair. It was the truth.

Warrior of the Ages
was written in the wee hours of the night, in stolen years that I seized from my family and friends like a marauding Viking. The muse demanded and I obeyed. I thank my husband and children for their loving understanding, and stoic acceptance of my insistence that apples and peanut butter is a real meal. The look they sometimes shot my way was uncomfortably similar to the time I ran out of dog food and tried to foist cake and gravy on the dog. It takes a village to write a book, and I’m forever blessed with my team.