Blood of the Guardian Page 22

  Suddenly, his time in the cage seemed even more pointless. He’d missed far too much while wallowing helplessly behind bars. “And Alec almost died?”

  “Twice,” Kael’s voice added.

  Greer and Kael approached. Kael sported his typically cocky grin.

  “Twice?”

  “They shot him with an arrow,” Kael said. “And before that, a Strength Rol’dan smashed his head in—the same injury that killed a dozen others. The boy certainly has a hard head.” Admiration pulsed from Kael’s emotions.

  “Kael? Have you started … liking Alec?”

  “No! Of course not! The boy is irritating and hotheaded.”

  Nolan grinned. “We were talking about Alec, not you.”

  Kat snorted. “I need to get on patrol.”

  “You better, Lieutenant,” Kael said, amusement poking through his smug face.

  One of the Rol’dan soldiers appeared in front of them, saluting and then dropping his arm. “General, sir.”

  “Yes, Finsen. Report.”

  “We’ve released the creatures, as you requested. The two-headed … uh … thing, we put into the swamp.” He motioned toward the cage where Nolan had stayed. A half a dozen gypsies filled the space. “Any suggestions about what we should do with them?”

  “I suppose we should take them back to Faylinn. Question them and put them on trial. But crows! They’ll slow us. Part of me wants to kill the lot of them.”

  “May I make a suggestion, Master Kael?” Greer said, his voice tight.

  “Please do. I welcome any suggestions.”

  “You could always let them go.”

  “Let them go?” Kael glared. “Did you see what they did to Nolan?”

  “If I am not mistaken, you killed the man who had injured him, as well as the girl in charge.”

  Nolan grabbed Kael’s arm. “Wait. You killed him?”

  “The spearman? Of course. He attacked me.”

  “What was his name?”

  “You mean the man thrusting a spear at my face? I didn’t have time to ask him his name.”

  Nolan’s shoulders sagged. He barely knew the young man, but he had kept Nolan alive.

  “For the most part, the gypsies are harmless,” Greer said.

  Kael crossed his arms over his chest. “They’ve gained powers. How are they harmless? Besides, one of those men had also jabbed Nolan. You expect me to let him go?”

  “There’s another?” Nolan asked.

  “Of course. There were two: the one stupid enough to fight me and then the other.”

  “Which one did you kill?” Nolan asked, hopeful.

  “A gypsy,” Kael said. “Brim’s sake, Nolan. Does it matter?”

  It did matter. “Let me see him.”

  Kael held his hand out in an exaggerated flourish. “This way.”

  They stepped toward the cage. Some who’d been sitting abruptly stood, fear pulsing from their emotions. Kael pointed to a man hunched in the corner, his eye bruised and swollen. Nolan sighed with relief. Tibel.

  “He’s your other spearman, right?” Kael asked. “Surely we can’t let him go.”

  “Actually,” Nolan said, “he saved my life.”

  “The twit kept stabbing you with a spear. I watched him do it.”

  Nolan cocked a brow. “How long were you watching before you decided to save me?”

  Kael opened his mouth and snapped it closed. “We … uh … we had to figure out what we were up against.”

  “If it hadn’t been for him, I would’ve died while you tried to figure things out.”

  Kael stared at Nolan, shock pulsing from him. He didn’t realize how close Nolan had been to dying. He shook his head, his scowl returning. Jabbing a finger toward Tibel, he said, “So he saved you?”

  “He has Accuracy. He targeted where it would cause the least amount of damage. He gave me the time I needed and kept the other man from killing me.”

  Several of the gypsies cast side glances at Tibel, irritated. Gypsies considered loyalty an important aspect of their culture. Apparently, Tibel may have broken some rules or vows in his attempts to help Nolan. I shouldn’t have said something in front of the others. “Matter of fact, I think we should let him go right now.”

  “Right now?” Kael barked. “All of them?”

  “No. Just him.”

  “I agree,” Greer said.

  Kael gawked at them like they’d gone insane. He, of course, didn’t have Empathy and couldn’t see how much trouble the boy was in.

  “Open the cage,” Nolan ordered.

  Kael cursed, fumbled in a small pocket on his leather jerkin, and pulled out a key. He glared at the prisoners. “If any of you try to escape, your head will be detached from your neck before you even realize it.” He pointed at Tibel. “You. Come here.”

  Kael jammed the key into the lock and turned. Tibel stood, maneuvering through the scowling people surrounding him. As soon as Kael opened the door, he slid out, and Kael relocked it.

  Tibel’s eyes darted from one of them to the other, pausing longest on Greer. Finally, he turned to Nolan. “W-what do you want with me?”

  “You’re free to go.”

  His eyes dropped to Nolan’s scarred stomach, doubt pulsing from his emotions.

  Nolan leaned toward him. “I know what you did. Thank you.”

  Tibel’s dark eyes snapped up and met his. Understanding passed between them. With a quick nod, Tibel turned, walking briskly, and then breaking into a run. At the end of the clearing, he grabbed a spear impaled in the ground and disappeared into the woods.

  Kael reached for his sword.

  “Kael,” Nolan scolded.

  “He took a weapon.”

  “And how is he supposed to defend himself without one?”

  “We should have invited the young man back to Faylinn,” Greer said.

  “The one who just ran away with his tail between his legs?” Kael said. “Talasians get along fabulously in Faylinn. I’m sure their gypsy counterparts will fit in just as well! The Rol’dan might even throw a party for him while they’re waiting for war.”

  Despite Kael’s sarcasm, he was right. Maska had a hard time staying alive, even with his Strength. Tibel would come into an “accident” within a week.

  Nolan wished he could do more for him than setting him loose in the forest. The people of Adamah didn’t take to the gypsies well; the gypsies always survived by sticking together. Even if he didn’t care for the gypsies much—especially now—Tibel was different from the others. He’d stepped up to protect Nolan, even if he’d done so in a subtle way. He’d helped Nolan when Rikar could do no more.

  Nolan stared at the empty cage where Rikar had lived, possibly for years. What happened to him? If not for the Guardian, Nolan would’ve died days ago. He most likely left as soon as Greer stepped into the clearing—there were ill feelings between them, whatever they were. Nolan wondered if he’d ever see Rikar again.

  Nolan turned to the others, still thinking of the Guardian. Greer’s light-filled eyes glared at him, hard as stones.

  “Greer?”

  “Master Nolan. Might I have a private word with you?”

  Nolan’s mind raced. If he didn’t know better, he’d say Greer was angry. But why? Realization smacked him. Oh … Greer reads minds.

  Greer took the lead across the camp, not waiting for Nolan’s response.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Kael asked.

  Nolan forced a smile. “We’ll talk later.” And then he turned and quickly followed the brooding Guardian.

  The sunlight faded in the sky, casting red and orange hues through the branches of the trees. A pair of Rol’dan soldiers laughed near a fire; a wild bird sizzled over the flames. Nolan paused for just a moment, enjoying the smell—he was hungry. But Greer kept going. He entered the tent where Nolan had awoken earlier, disappearing inside.

  Nolan’s stomach grumbled. He sighed, reluctantly pulling away from the prospect of food, and followed Greer.<
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  When he pushed open the tent flap, Greer waited, his glow providing the light for the small space. His large arms crossed his chest.

  Greer’s jaw tightened. “Why did you not tell me of Rikar?”

  Nolan pulled out a chair and sat. “I meant to tell you. I just didn’t know how.”

  Greer inhaled, closing his eyes. When he opened them, he seemed calmer. More in control. “Forgive me, Master Nolan. I lost my temper.”

  Nolan smiled. He liked to see Greer more human, even if the emotion was anger. “Rikar told me you’d react like this.”

  “Did he?”

  “I mentioned you and the others, and then I invited him to Faylinn.”

  Greer grunted; it almost sounded like a laugh. “And his response?”

  Nolan examined his fingernails and picked out dried blood and dirt. “He said he needed to stay, that it was better for him to be locked in a cage.”

  “And how did he save you? In your mind, you stated you would have died without him.”

  “My light was depleted. He shared his with me.”

  Greer straightened, dropping his arms to his sides. “How did he accomplish this?”

  Nolan swallowed, remembering Rikar’s sliced finger and the taste of Guardian blood.

  Greer nodded. He must’ve gleaned enough information from Nolan’s thoughts. “At least he has done something worthwhile for a change.”

  Nolan stood and stepped to a dressing table. What had happened between the two Guardians? Perfume bottles were lined up neatly in a row. Nolan rearranged them absentmindedly. It used to be a woman’s tent, obviously. Possibly even Jezebelle’s. He opened a bottle, and the smell of lavender and cinnamon wafted into the room. Nolan snorted and replaced the lid. It was Jezebelle’s tent after all.

  Pushing aside the bottles, he instead lifted a jeweled mirror, avoiding his own reflection. He looked over the top of it at Greer, hesitated, and then finally asked, “What did Rikar do?”

  “If I wanted to share, I would have done so already.”

  Nolan set the mirror down slowly. Greer had never withheld anything from him before.

  Greer’s frown faded into sympathy. “Master Nolan. You would not like what you learn.”

  A commotion stirred outside. Voices yelling. Cursing. Nolan flipped open the flap of the tent and saw all twelve Rol’dan gathered in the clearing. What was going on?

  As Nolan approached them, he saw Kat holding a bruised and struggling Tibel.

  “Kat?” Nolan asked.

  She shook him. “Found him trying to get away.”

  “We let him go.”

  Her scowl fell, and her eyes snapped up to his. “You … what?”

  “I tried to tell her,” growled Tibel.

  “Kat,” Nolan said. “He saved my life.”

  As if his clothes were made of hot metal, she released him. Tibel staggered, almost falling on his injured leg. His swollen eye looked worse, if at all possible. Nolan tucked away a mental reminder to never let Kat get upset with him.

  Nolan grabbed the man’s hand to steady him and summoned Healing at the same time. Tibel flinched and relaxed. The purple bruises around his eye faded.

  Tibel stared at him, stunned.

  “Well, it’s too late for you to leave now,” Nolan said. “You’re better off waiting until morning.”

  “You mean when we release the other gypsies?” Kael added, his voice filled with disgust.

  “You’re letting them go, too?” Kat asked.

  “Yes,” Kael said, his hand going to the pommel of his sword. “I’d rather kill them.”

  Tibel stared at Kael, eyes wide.

  Kael stroked the handle of his sword as his eyes blazed yellow with his Shay. Nolan snorted. Kael could be such a twit sometimes.

  “He won’t hurt you,” Nolan said.

  Tibel didn’t seem convinced.

  “He’s my brother,” Nolan added. “I’ll kick him across the camp if he touches you.”

  Kael grinned. “Oh, will you now? You haven’t won a fight with me yet.”

  Tibel’s fear still lingered, but his eyes darted from Nolan to Kael and back to Nolan again. He was confused, understandably. Since Nolan’s transformation, he and Kael looked nothing alike.

  For a moment, Nolan considered explaining to him how he’d come to look like a Guardian. About gaining his powers, and his death and transformation. He most likely would think Nolan made it up. If he hadn’t lived—and died—through it, Nolan wouldn’t believe it either.

  Nolan’s mind shifted, and the blood drained from his face. Darkness no! He snapped from his thoughts and found everyone staring at him.

  “Nolan?” Kat asked. “Are you okay?”

  “Where did you put the bodies?” Nolan asked.

  “What?”

  “The bodies. From the people you killed last night.”

  “There were only two of them,” Kael said. “The spearman and the wench with the daggers.”

  “Where?” Nolan hoped he was wrong.

  Kael stepped away from the others toward the tree line. A large blanket covered a mound in the grass. “We hadn’t gotten around to burying them yet.”

  Nolan grabbed the end of the blanket and yanked. The spearman stared, glassy-eyed—the campfire light flickered off his profile. Next to him lay a pile of rags that used to be clothes. Jezebelle’s body was gone.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “I DON’T UNDERSTAND,” Kat said. “Where is she?”

  Nolan stared, hardly able to breathe.

  Greer released a long sigh layered with a growl. “It would appear the gypsy has transformed.”

  “T-transformed?” Kat stammered. “Like Nolan?”

  Nolan licked his lips. Certainly Brim wouldn’t have chosen a selfish and cruel person like Jezebelle. He clenched his fists to curb their trembling. So he hadn’t been chosen by Brim. He’d been a freak. A fluke. A random draw of nature that repeated itself. Part of him was glad not to be the only one. But why her?

  “We have another Nolan on our hands?” Kael asked.

  “So it would seem, Master Kael,” Greer said.

  Kael ran a hand through his hair. “She won’t be happy with us killing her.”

  “She’s insane,” Tibel said, his voice trembling. “She’ll want revenge.”

  The whole group stared at the strips of cloth that used to be her clothes.

  “When Nolan attacked us,” Kael said, “he nearly took on the whole Rol’dan army, and that was before he transformed. At least Nolan was kind, he tried not to kill people.”

  Nolan cringed. A few had died from loss of blood.

  Kael jabbed a finger toward Kat. “Killing her made her transform.”

  She huffed. “I didn’t know she’d come back to life. I was trying to save you.”

  “Save me?” Kael’s eyes glared golden. “I had the fight under control.”

  “Of course you did.”

  Kael slid out his sword. “Would you like a demonstration, Lieutenant?”

  “Enough!” Nolan said. “You two act like children.”

  They stared at him, and the light faded from their eyes.

  “What’s done is done. Quit pointing fingers, and let’s figure out what to do.”

  “Well, we can’t do anything until morning,” Kael said. “We don’t even know how long she’s been gone.”

  “Or maybe she didn’t rise at all,” Kat said. “Maybe one of her gypsies took her body.”

  “And shredded her clothes?” Kael added.

  Kat opened her mouth, but her hopefulness faded.

  Kael squared his shoulders and straightened his leather jerkin. “Well, then … let’s get some sleep and head out in the morning. Even if she tries to attack us, I don’t imagine she’ll do it right away. Soon we’ll have the walls of Faylinn around us to help.”

  “And we have Lord Emissary,” one of the Rol’dan said.

  Kael motioned toward Nolan, and a smirk touched his mouth. “Yes. We h
ave that too.”

  Kael barked orders to his men, assigning watch. At least with a platoon of Speed Rol’dan, Jezebelle wouldn’t be able to sneak up on them without warning.

  Tibel stood, wringing his hands, confusion pulsing from him. When Nolan walked by him, the small man grabbed his arm. “Lord Emissary?”

  “Please. Call me Nolan.”

  He nodded slowly. “Nolan. What should I do?”

  “Well, you have two options. You could go your own way in the morning, although I can’t make any promises for your friends over there.” He motioned toward the cage full of gypsies. “And I don’t know about Jezebelle.”

  “And the other option?”

  “You could come with us to Faylinn.”

  The man’s face paled.

  “I didn’t say they were good options. At least in Faylinn you’d have a few on your side. The king is not hateful to Talasians, including those who are citizens of Adamah. However, so you are aware, we may be at war with them soon.”

  “I will think about it.”

  Nolan patted the man’s arm. “Tell us your answer in the morning.”

  He walked off, leaving Tibel standing alone. He probably needed a place to sleep; hopefully, some Rol’dan soldier hadn’t claimed his tent already. But Nolan had more important things on his mind than playing host to a gypsy.

  He flipped open his tent and found Greer waiting for him. The Guardian sat at the dressing table, making the chair look as if it belonged to a child. The lantern on the table remained unlit, but Greer’s light filled the room.

  “Greer? What are you doing here?”

  “We need to talk.”

  Nolan’s brows knitted together. Hadn’t they talked already? He sighed and sat on the thin mattress, waiting for Greer to speak. The sooner they finished talking, the sooner he could be alone. His head hurt, and the meager understanding he’d had of himself had disappeared in a cloud. He wasn’t in the mood to have someone reading his mind.

  “Well?” Nolan asked. “You wanted to talk?”

  Greer released a long sigh. “It is time to share with you about Rikar.”

  “Why now? An hour ago, you couldn’t tell me a thing.”

  “Events have changed.”

  Nolan shivered. He hadn’t been warm since the gypsies had captured him. The first thing he planned to do when he got back to Faylinn was put on some real clothes. He pulled the blanket from the bed and wrapped it around his shoulders, waiting for Greer to share this “secret.” At the moment, he didn’t care what Rikar had done. After several minutes of waiting, Nolan wondered if Greer had changed his mind.