Blood of the Guardian Read online

  “Yes. You are freak.”

  By the way she studied him, she didn’t understand at all. She believed a freak was something good. He shook his head, giving up. Dragging his eyes to the town’s docks, he noticed a boat had pushed away and now rowed in their direction.

  Rayen pointed.

  “I see it.” Alec stood, adjusting his sword belt. “Looks like we might be in for some trouble.”

  “Trouble?”

  He met her eyes. “Might have to fight.”

  Rayen nodded and stood, heading swiftly off the deck and down the stairs, probably to tell her father what was going on. Maybe he was wrong about the villagers. Maybe they weren’t coming to fight. Rough characters sat on the boat, one standing with his hand on his sword hilt. They didn’t seem like the type who wanted to talk.

  Greer approached.

  “What’s going on, Greer?”

  “Hmm,” Greer said. “They do not have friendly thoughts.”

  “Didn’t figure so. Can you soothe them, you know, like Emery and Nolan do? Calm them a little so I don’t have to kill anyone?”

  Greer shook his head. “I am sorry, Master Alec, but that is not a Guardian ability.”

  “No?” Alec grunted. “Too bad.”

  Alec slid his sword from his sheath and rolled his neck and shoulders. He was feeling better, thank Brim. He wasn’t sure how he would’ve fared puking and swinging his sword at the same time.

  Others gathered behind him, their Talasian words building in volume. He glanced over his shoulder, and a small group, a half dozen or so, of young warriors stood in a rank behind him. They were partially tattooed, holding spears casually. The king had apparently sent his light troops. The heavily tattooed warriors weren’t anywhere to be seen. Alec wouldn’t need them, anyway. As rough as these townsmen were, they didn’t have the Shay of Speed.

  As the boat got closer, the warriors joined him at the rails, peering intently at the incoming company. He felt short next to these muscled men.

  “Greer,” Alec said, “tell the warriors to step back.”

  Greer relayed the message, but they didn’t acknowledge it. One grunted and crossed his arms over his chest.

  Alec shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  As the boat approached, Alec could see the villagers’ scowling faces. Two men stood and pulled out swords.

  “Morning, gentlemen,” Alec called down to them. “What can we help you with this fine day?”

  A man with a rounded belly sneered. “Get out of the way, boy. We’re here to kill some Talaswine.”

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to get by me first.”

  “If you want to be a savage lover, then you can die with them easy enough.”

  Alec wondered how the idiots would board the ship with a row of spearmen lined up on the boat’s edge. They aren’t that stupid, are they? Of course, they had tried to fight him before.

  But instead of grappling lines or boarding ropes, they pulled out crossbows.

  Alec sucked in a breath. “Ah, crows!”

  The Talasians warriors didn’t react. They probably didn’t even know what a nightforsaken crossbow did. And as the slobs raised their weapons, Alec let his Speed come forth.

  Time slowed.

  The strings on the crossbows released, slowly launching the shafts. The missiles crossed one another, all aiming for different warriors who stood along the rails. The bolts were a lot smaller than the longbow arrows Alec had deflected before. He studied them as they sailed his way. He’d have to time it perfectly. Things were about to get interesting.

  Alec hacked his sword in a large arc, into the path of oncoming death. He sliced the shafts of the arrows and spun, lunging upward, catching the arrows coming on the other side of him, redirecting them into the air.

  He skidded into normal speed, and the villagers gawked, frozen in stunned silence. Alec grinned. Apparently, they weren’t expecting a Shay user on board. They paused for a long second and took aim again, this time pointing everything they had at Alec.

  He was about to mutter a curse under his breath but quickly changed his mind. This was a good thing. At least they only focused on him. Alec squeezed the handle of his sword and flared the light of his Shay. “Come on, girls,” he said under his breath. “Show me what you’ve got.”

  Once again, time crawled—a sensation Alec knew well but never completely got used to. Sights and sounds crept in slow motion. In this case, a dozen arrow shafts punched through the air, some ahead of the others, coming toward him in a wavering mass. He had a few moments and decided an upward sweep of his sword should deflect the whole lot nicely. He positioned himself, but then things changed.

  Two arrows connected with a pop of wood on wood. The bolts deflected off one another, redirecting their flight. One shot into the air, which was quite convenient considering he planned on doing that anyway. The other sailed harmlessly over Alec’s shoulder. He’d have to ignore it and focus on the rest.

  With a well-timed flick, he caught most of the bolts, flinging them skyward. With his other hand, he nabbed two more arrows from the air.

  Extinguishing his Shay, he brought everything back to normal. As he did, he heard the unmistakable sound of the last arrow hitting flesh. A stunned cry of pain rang out. Alec whirled and watched a young Talasian warrior fall, clutching the feathered end of the bolt protruding from his chest.

  The attackers let out a cry of victory from their boat.

  Greer appeared then, yanking the arrow free and laying his hands on the young man in order to heal him. But as he did, the warrior shuddered, releasing a long sigh of death. The shot was too clean. He died almost instantly.

  Alec blinked. That shouldn’t have happened. Why’d he let it happen?

  Greer threw his head back and roared with far more power than an old man should. His face wore an expression of both anger and despair. He marched to Alec as his arms trembled with rage.

  The Talasian warriors were obviously shaken, but they kept their emotions concealed. However, now, instead of standing there, they were alert, their spears raised, with battle on their faces.

  Alec growled. “If I could reach them, this would be over in seconds.”

  “I can make it happen,” Greer said, his voice hard, “if that is what you really wish, Master Alec.”

  “Can’t block arrows and swim at the same time.”

  “You don’t need to swim.” Greer met his eyes. “I have good aim.”

  Alec inhaled sharply. He wants to throw me? He’d been tossed with a Strength-enhanced throw once. It wasn’t any fun. “All right … all right … Do it quick before I change my—”

  Greer grabbed him like a sack of flour and hurled him toward the boat.

  With the Shay of Speed, Alec always had command of his environment. He could slow things, maneuver through obstacles, dodge arrows and sword strikes. But flying through the air, he had no control.

  He wasn’t sure who was more frightened as he soared toward the small boat: himself or the attackers. He let out the scream he’d been holding in and turned it into a battle cry as he fell.

  ***

  He’d expected a bloodbath.

  Instead, the cowards dove from the boat and swam away, horror plastered on their ugly faces. Alec guessed it wasn’t every day a Speed user flew at them with a sword. Apparently, they weren’t as dumb as they looked.

  It was probably a good thing they’d retreated, considering Alec had stumbled and fallen, instead of landing on his feet. Compared to the nimble Talasian warriors, Alec felt like he’d landed with the grace of a newborn foal. He could feel the warriors’ contemplative eyes staring at him from the boat’s rails.

  A part of him wanted to chase the attackers down and stab them like fish. Instead, he stretched out to grab an escaping oar. He awkwardly rowed the empty boat closer to the ship, switching from one side to the other to avoid spinning in a circle. An empty rum bottle rolled against his boot. He kicked it aside, but a wave rolled it back to him a
gain. It partially explained why they’d acted so irrationally—apart from the fact they were just plain mean. They were too stupid with drink to think straight.

  As he reached the ship, Greer reached over the side. Alec stepped onto the ledge of the boat and grabbed the Guardian’s hand, using his feet to climb aboard. Greer grunted, pretending like it was difficult. Alec snorted. The warriors had just seen him throw Alec at least ten arm lengths. Greer played the pathetic game quite poorly.

  As Alec swung his leg over, he could see that few were paying attention to them anyway. Most left the deck to return to whatever dull and boring things Talasians did. A few warriors lingered, crouching by their fallen comrade. They didn’t cry or mourn. Even in death, the stubborn savages didn’t allow themselves to feel.

  Greer’s face was the opposite of the warriors’. His graying brows were drawn together, and the lines around his eyes seemed deeper.

  “Greer,” Alec said. “What’s wrong?” He frantically searched the deck. Where was Rayen? Was she hurt during the attack?

  “She’s fine,” Greer said, answering Alec’s thoughts. “Warriors removed her from harm’s way as soon as the threat emerged. She is, after all, the king’s daughter.”

  Alec relaxed, letting the tension drain from his shoulders. “For Brim’s sake, Greer. You had me worried.”

  Greer’s eyes flicked to the fallen warrior, and the crease between his brows deepened. “The arrow hit true. He died almost immediately. I could do nothing.”

  Alec valued life, but he’d seen a lot of deaths in the last few months—he’d even killed many. As far as a battle went, only one death was pretty good. Greer shouldn’t beat himself up over something he couldn’t control.

  Alec followed Greer’s stare to the warrior. He was young, had few tattoos, probably not that much older than Alec. Unfortunately, he’d been standing in the wrong spot at the wrong time. It wasn’t Greer’s fault. If anything, Alec should hold the blame. He could’ve been faster. He should’ve blocked the arrow. And he would’ve done it if the two bolts hadn’t hit together. An accident—if a murdering boatload of drunk crossbow archers could be considered an accident.

  Greer released a sigh. He put a heavy hand on Alec’s shoulder. “You did well, Master Alec. You are right. There could have been far more deaths than there were.”

  “But someone died.”

  “Yes.”

  “You did all you could,” Alec said.

  “My abilities restrict me from bringing the young man back to life.”

  Alec stared, speechless for a long breath. “Greer. Why would you want to die for someone you don’t know?”

  “Master Alec. A Guardian’s primary goal is to protect man. Not just any man, but all mankind. I would have traded my life if I could, but alas. I could only watch him die.”

  He turned from Alec, retreating from the deck, leaving Alec alone with the few remaining warriors. They’d arranged the dead warrior in a natural position, with his arms crossed over his chest and his spear in his hand. Alec figured they’d move him somewhere else. A pool of blood surrounded him, more than likely dripping through the deck. Alec swallowed back bile. He’d seen blood, but that was … disgusting. The dining area rested below. It didn’t make him want to run downstairs and eat. Instead, he stayed on deck, hanging on the rails and watching the scenery pass by. The body never moved.

  Throughout the rest of the day, the warriors visited the fallen one. They came and went, saying nothing, each merely making a fist and smacking it against his chest.

  By the end of the day, King Kamalin emerged, mirroring the same gesture as the others. He muttered a few words in the Talasian tongue—the first words Alec had heard spoken from any of them the entire day—and then four warriors picked up the now stiff corpse and tossed it into the sea.

  So much for funerals.

  When the sunlight nearly faded, Alec remembered he’d skipped dinner, and his tea. His stomach turned like the waves.

  As if on cue, a presence appeared at his shoulder. Alec turned to see Rayen’s expressionless face near his elbow. She didn’t say anything, she merely handed Alec the steaming cup. Perhaps the silence was part of the mourning.

  He nodded, in case speaking was disrespectful. And after he’d finished the tea, he handed it back to Rayen. She took it and touched his arm softly before retreating.

  Turning to the water, he contemplated all the changes in his life this last year. His power. Nolan’s death and transformation. Taryn’s sacrifice. In many ways, his emotions were numb, like the Talasians. He had to close himself off to make it from day to day. Even death didn’t affect him as it should. He should feel more, shouldn’t he? He sighed, resting his chin on the rail, watching the body of the warrior bobbing, drifting out to sea.

  Chapter Fourteen

  THE LAST FEW DAYS ON THE SHIP, King Kamalin looked at Alec differently. All the warriors did. Instead of the freakish stares—as if he were an exotic, wild animal—they looked at him with expressions that could almost pass for respect.

  As they approached their destination, Alec gripped the rails, his excitement building at the prospect of getting off the boat. Finally, he’d get to go home. His joy quickly deflated. Father had picked up his forge and moved to Faylinn in the heart of the Rol’dan. Alec didn’t have a home anymore.

  The ship followed the shore, far enough out so the oars’ steady strokes wouldn’t skim the shallow waters. The shoreline had become rockier, with large boulders cluttering the edges. When they rounded a bend, the city of Faylinn broke into view. The castle, and its surrounding walled fortress, seemed even grander from the sea.

  A row of huge Rol’dan flags adorned the shore, six of them, each representing one of the six Shay powers. They flapped gently in the breeze, adding sound to the silence on the boat. Towers thrust up past the flags, where torches were once lit at night to protect them from the Dor’Jan.

  The quiet on the ship shifted dramatically; warriors dashed along the deck preparing to land, their sharp voices barking orders. For the first time in his life, Alec was glad to see Faylinn.

  He stared across the water. Finally, he would get off the nightforsaken boat. Finally, he would put his feet on dry land. Part of him, however, would miss the ship and the steady calm of its crew. It had given him hours to think on things, to focus on the dramatic changes in his life.

  A presence touched his elbow. Alec turned, expecting to see Rayen; they’d spent a lot of time together these last few days. Instead, Alec’s excitement deflated like a sliced water skin. Jezebelle stood next to him with one of her telltale sneers.

  “We’ll finally be able to get off this boat, boy.”

  Alec snorted. “I thought you’d fallen overboard.”

  Jezebelle tossed a long braid over her shoulder. “With the old man interpreting, I figured I’d find better ways to occupy myself.”

  Alec didn’t want to even consider how she’d spent her time.

  “You’d be surprised,” she said. “I’ve had lots of discussions. Apparently you’re quite a fighter. I guess those aren’t slave scars after all.”

  “I’m so glad you cleared that up.” Alec shook his head, feigning relief. “And I was worried I’d been a slave.”

  “And what of the old man? Eh?” she said, ignoring his sarcasm. “He heals wounds but his eyes glow white instead of green. He’s a bit of an oddity, I would say.”

  “He’s a Guardian.” Not that Alec cared about her curiosity, but he liked watching her squirm.

  Her arrogant expression flattened. “A … what?”

  “A Guardian. A warrior of light. Huge, light-infused beings with the power of all six.” He turned to get a better look at her shock. “He hides as an old man. The first time I saw his true form, I tried to run away.”

  Jezebelle blinked, her astonishment displayed magnificently across her face.

  Alec continued, “Alcandor was a Guardian, too. That’s why he was so powerful and why he lived so long.”

/>   “Alcandor?” she said. “King Alcandor?” Her eyes fixed over his shoulder in thought and then snapped back to him. “What do you mean lived? Is he dead?”

  “No. He’s alive … unfortunately. They locked him away in Faylinn.”

  On the shore, a group of Rol’dan soldiers formed into ranks, organized into the different power sects. A group of Strength Rol’dan, sporting the red capes of their station, stood in one formation. Next to them stood a unit of soldiers wearing short blue capes and longbows over their backs: the Accuracy Rol’dan. Some others wore golden capes for Speed. And still more with the orange of Perception. An assembly of Empathy soldiers stood at attention, their violet capes flapping gently in the breeze.

  Off to the side, black-robed Healers gathered, adorned with their green sashes. Alec shuddered when he saw them. He hoped they weren’t here for anything specific. Healers and trouble often went hand in hand.

  At the front of the group stood General Kael Trividar, his legs spread apart slightly and his hands on his hips. A man, taller and broader than the rest, stood next to him—the only one not dressed in a uniform. The orange light of Perception flared in Nolan’s eyes. Alec waved, knowing Nolan watched.

  “Is the Emissary a Guardian as well?” Jezebelle asked.

  Alec smiled. He rather enjoyed messing with her head. “No. He’s something else.”

  Blissful silence followed. Let her chew on that for a while.

  The oars stopped, and the boat drifted forward before numerous stone anchors were thrown over the side. King Kamalin emerged on deck with Rayen. Greer approached next, followed by several tattooed warriors.

  “Come, Alec,” Greer said. “They have a boat waiting for us. It is time to go ashore.”

  ***

  The moment they stepped off the boat, Alec wished he could get back on. His vision swayed, his legs wobbled, and his stomach lurched. An arm steadied him, and Alec pulled his eyes from the bobbing tree line to the amused smirk of Nolan.

  “How was your trip?” Nolan asked.