Blood of the Guardian Page 30

  Kael met them from the other side of the courtyard; he stopped and stared.

  “Report, General,” Emery said.

  Kael cleared his throat. “Jezebelle left by scaling the wall, taking out several of our archers, and jumping down. We’ve seen no sign of her since.”

  “She jumped?” Nolan asked, astonished. It was quite a high wall.

  “How many dead?” Emery asked.

  “Five wall archers. Six Talasian warriors. Three Rol’dan from the meeting room, including Tiohan,” Kael said. “Many more were injured but successfully healed.”

  Alec and Rayen approached. Rayen jolted to a stop and her mouth dropped open upon seeing Emery.

  “How … um … are you feeling, Emery?” Alec asked. “I mean, Your Majesty.”

  Emery forced a smile. “Quite well for a dead man.”

  Kat approached next, her eyes widening even larger than the others’. “Your Majesty! Are you hurt?” She continued to stare, shock emanating from her emotions.

  “He’s fine,” Kael growled. “Now out with it, Lieutenant.”

  “Y-your Majesty,” she said as her eyes dropped, taking in his whole gory appearance. “The Talasian war commander is on the field now. He’s talking with his warriors. Our Perception Rol’dan tried to listen in, but they can’t. It’s like there’s some sort of shield in place. We don’t understand—”

  “The war commander?” Emery said.

  “Yes, Your Grace. The one who met with you a while ago.”

  “Show me.”

  They climbed the stairs on the great wall. When they reached the top, they looked out onto the Talasian army. Tosho, whose dead body still lay in the conference room, now seemed to be quite alive and well.

  “He’s right there,” Kat said, pointing to what indeed looked like the war commander speaking to his army. And like Kat said, they could hear nothing. The warrior’s mouth moved but not a sound came from his lips, nor could they hear the grumbles and shifting of weapons from the Talasian army.

  “That isn’t Tosho,” Maska said.

  “Obviously,” Emery said. He turned to Nolan. “Is it the gypsy?”

  Nolan stared, seeing only Tosho. Is my power so low I can’t even see her disguise? Crows, she even hid right in front of me in the conference room. He rubbed his temples, his head throbbing. “I-I can’t tell. It would be my guess.”

  “She’s enraging them,” Emery said. “I can feel it.”

  Nolan felt it too—the forced hate. The typical expressionless faces of the Talasian warriors scowled. The Nass also poured from the army, though they were more transparent than they usually were—another sign of Nolan’s depleted powers. Jezebelle must be filling the army with lies, turning their emotions fouler, to create such a swarm of Nass. All the while, she blocked her voice from Nolan and his friends … somehow. Crows, what was she saying?

  Nolan had never tried a sound shield, never even knew he could. He wondered what combination of powers it would take to create one. His brief curiosity faded when he refocused on the situation. The wench had killed the Talasian war commander, and now she was pretending to be him. Why? And did the Talasians even know their queen lived? Crows, how was she able to hold her disguise, enrage the army, and manipulate a shield at the same time? And how in Brim’s light was he going to stop her?

  “So, Nolan. What are you going to do?” Kael asked.

  “Me? I don’t know.”

  Kael snorted. “You can take her, especially with all of your recent training.”

  It was a mistake to train. In preparing, Nolan had weakened himself and, in turn, made it potentially fatal to use any powers now. The struggle to free himself from Jezebelle in the throne room had siphoned away most of his remaining Shay powers.

  “How are you doing?” Kat touched his arm, her face concerned.

  Nolan shook his head. He wasn’t well at all.

  “How much do you have left?”

  “Not much,” he said, his hands trembling.

  Kael’s smug grin faded. “Nolan, are you okay?”

  “No,” he said. “My powers are nearly gone.”

  “Do you have enough to defeat her?” Kael asked.

  “Maybe. If I use it all.” Nolan’s stomach turned. He might have enough, but it would be the last thing he’d ever do.

  Kat slugged Kael’s arm. “You stupid twit! If he uses it all, it will kill him.”

  Kael’s eyes widened. “Brother, is this true?”

  Nolan nodded slowly.

  “Well then … we’ll just have to do it,” Emery said.

  Nolan gawked. “She’d freeze you before you took two steps.”

  “Not necessarily,” Emery added. “I’ve blocked Empathy before. I kept Alcandor from controlling others.”

  “Can you keep her out of my mind, as well?” Alec asked.

  “You and the general, probably,” Emery said with a nod. “But not more than that.”

  “No,” Nolan objected. “You aren’t fighting her.”

  Alec crossed his arms over his chest. “You said you couldn’t do it on your own. Let’s do it together.”

  “I-I don’t feel right about you three risking your lives.”

  “And we’re supposed to stand here and watch you die on your own?” Alec said, frowning. “No thanks.”

  “Alec, you can hardly stand!”

  “Don’t worry, Brother … ” A cocky sneer pulled on Kael’s lip. “All four of us have already died and come back to life. If death can’t stop us, that gypsy wench doesn’t stand a chance.”

  Nolan shook his head. Jezebelle had died as well.

  “And what about me?” Kat asked.

  “Probably just the general and Alec, Lieutenant,” Emery said. “I can only focus on keeping two free from control. I’m sorry, but they are both better fighters than you are.”

  She pursued her lips, biting back a retort.

  “It would give me comfort if you would keep an eye on Megan for me. She didn’t take my death well. Can you keep her safe?”

  Kat’s eyes darted to Nolan and back to Emery again. She inhaled slowly and released it in a frustrated breath. “Of course, Your Majesty. I will keep her safe.”

  With a quick bow, she turned and caught Nolan’s eyes as she passed him. “Stay safe,” she whispered.

  Nolan watched her go, knowing that she’d rather stay. But Nolan was thankful Emery had ordered her away.

  Alec leaned over the wall. “Crows. We can’t take on the whole nightforsaken army.”

  “The Rol’dan will take care of the Talasians … without killing them,” Emery added.

  Kael cursed under his breath. “If you say so, Your Majesty.”

  “I will speak to the Talasian Army,” a voice said.

  Rayen had been so quiet Nolan had almost forgotten she was there. She stared at her people, her once emotionless face filled with concern and love.

  “You shouldn’t go out there,” Alec said to her. “Jezebelle already tried to kill you.”

  “They need to know I am well.”

  “We’ll let them see you, Queen Rayen, but we can’t risk your safety,” Emery said. “As soon as they know, we’ll pull you back behind the safety of our walls.”

  ***

  The great doors opened, pushed by three Strength Rol’dan on each side, their muscles bulging as their eyes blazed red. Through the widening crack, the scene opened before them.

  Jezebelle—disguised as Tosho—stood in front of the mass of Talasian warriors, her arms jabbing the air. At first, Nolan didn’t know what she was doing, until he remembered the shield. She was speaking; they just couldn’t hear her.

  As the line of warriors saw them, their emotions fluctuated. Nolan glanced at Emery; his eyes blazed violet, his jaw trembling.

  As Emery soothed them, the mood of the Talasian army altered, and the production of Nass subsided. Several warriors blinked away the forced emotions and focused on their queen. Confusion, then joy, surged through them at the
sight of Rayen.

  Jezebelle spun from the army, glaring at Nolan and his friends. Whatever sound shield she held dropped, and the murmurs of the warriors exploded from the silence.

  A heavily tattooed warrior stepped forward, meeting them halfway across the field. Jezebelle yelled out to him in Talasian, but he ignored her and continued to his queen.

  “The next highest warlord in command,” Maska whispered.

  The warrior spoke, punched a fist to his chest, and bowed his head. Rayen touched her chest, and a conversation went back and forth between them.

  “What are they saying?” Emery asked.

  “She tells him the truth,” Maska said with a grin.

  The warlord turned back to the Talasian Army, calling to them in his native tongue. His eyes locked on Jezebelle, and though his face held like a statue, his emotions seethed.

  The army turned toward the gypsy, and Nass pulled from them in waves.

  “Get the queen back inside,” Emery ordered, his voice urgent. “Close the gates.”

  Maska whisked Rayen away, with the warlord guarding her other side. They strode briskly through the gates, and the large doors groaned closed with a reverberating thud.

  Jezebelle, still in Tosho’s form, put a hand on her hip. “Now see what you’ve done. You’ve gone and made things all … complicated.”

  Before everyone’s eyes, she transformed.

  The warriors stepped back, their emotionless masks faltering. Nolan had only gotten a glimpse of her new transformation in the conference room. Now she stood in the open, her deception visible for all to see.

  Her muscled skin glowed, and her braided hair shimmered with metallic hues, much like Rikar’s. The power of Brim gushed from her, as if she’d just stepped from the light.

  Nolan barely had time to put up his mental guard.

  Like a burst of sunlight, energy spilled from her upraised hands, plowing through those in its path. Warriors who’d lunged toward her now froze, their spears gripped in motionless hands.

  Nolan whipped his head to his friends. Only Emery had escaped petrifaction.

  “Are you all right?” asked Nolan.

  Emery leaned on his knees, his shoulders rising and falling with heavy breaths. “Go. I’ll free the others.”

  As Nolan summoned Speed, time slowed.

  The Talasians not affected by her blast of light swarmed toward her. In Nolan’s Speed enhanced vision, they crept toward Jezebelle, their spears raised, tips pointing at the gypsy. Eyes blazing golden with Speed, she laughed as she slashed and stabbed the warriors two at a time. She spun as she killed.

  Nolan sprinted toward her, his Speed Shay pulsing, replaying all he’d learned with Kardos. He’d practiced all week: daggers with daggers; daggers with swords. Pulling out his sword, its Guardian light flaring, he lunged. She whipped her hand out to murder another warrior, but Nolan blocked her weapons with a metallic ring.

  She blinked, surprised. Apparently she hadn’t expected to see him moving around.

  “What are you doing?” Nolan growled. “These are your people!”

  “My people? They sent away my ancestors, leaving me as an outcast in this pathetic, worthless kingdom. I have no people!”

  She jabbed at Nolan with her dagger.

  Nolan dodged and deflected a second swipe.

  With a graceful skip, she ducked behind a tattooed Talasian while still slashing at Nolan.

  Blocking and jabbing, Nolan focused his Accuracy so he could avoid striking the warrior she used as an obstacle.

  With a hair-curling laugh, she stuck her daggers into the man’s side. Horrified, Nolan watched him fall. Nolan could heal him, but not without being vulnerable to Jezebelle’s assault while he did. He pulled his eyes from the dying man and blocked another attack.

  She darted between the bronze-skinned warriors, using them as shields. Nolan leapt back, cursing, and exchanged his sword for daggers. The sword was too long; he didn’t want to kill by mistake.

  “Well! Look at you!” she squealed with delight. “You’ve got two, just like me!”

  Laughter bubbled from her chest as she whirled, braids flying around her like a giant spider. Looking over her shoulder with a wink, she rushed into the army’s ranks.

  Nolan stared, watching her dart in and out. She’s running away? Then he saw her trail: a path of injured. Sides stabbed. Throats slit. Nolan cursed and ran. He sent a small wave of Healing into each warrior he passed.

  Glancing back at his friends, Emery had his hand on Kael, working on freeing him from Jezebelle’s mental hold. Nolan growled in frustration—Emery was moving so nightforsaken slow. This battle seemed to go on forever; in reality, only seconds had passed.

  Nolan scanned the crowd and saw Jezebelle duck behind another grouping of warriors. He ran after her, healing more injured. “Jezebelle!”

  Her laughter carried over the crowd.

  Nolan’s blood pulsed, his eyes darting, searching. The gates of Faylinn groaned open. Hopefully, the Speed Rol’dan would soon burst through the gates and assist him. He couldn’t keep this up all on his own.

  Like a synchronized dance, she whirled, snatched a spear from a warrior’s hand, and ran straight toward Nolan’s friends. Nolan sucked in a breath as his heart stopped cold.

  Summoning everything he had left, he pushed his Empathy, palms toward his frozen comrades. He plowed a path of light, freeing his friends from her mental hold.

  Nolan’s head swam. He staggered, his vision tunneling.

  Too much.

  Too weak.

  An arm caught him, slowing him as he fell.

  The sounds of battle rang, steel upon steel. Kael yelled a curse from the crowd. Unfrozen, Kael most likely fought Jezebelle.

  “You’ve used too much power, my son,” a voice said.

  Nolan looked up, staring into Rikar’s concerned face. Nolan lay in the grass, propped up by Rikar’s arm. Rikar picked up Nolan’s dagger and used it to slash his palm.

  “Hold still,” Rikar said and gave him a weak smile. He held his hand in front of Nolan’s mouth, and Guardian light flowed from the wound.

  Nolan’s back arched as light leaked into him, pulling from Rikar’s injured palm and drifting up his nose, into his mouth, clearing his mind. Nolan tried to speak.

  “Do not talk. Listen,” Rikar said. “I searched for the gypsy’s mother but was unable to find anything of her past. I let the stones call to me and guide me to Jezebelle, so I could confront her directly.

  “When I found her, I came upon a conflict between her and the Guardians. She was locking them in Alcandor’s cage. She used humans as bait to force them into confinement; she threatened to slice their throats unless they obeyed.

  “She took the cage to a cave near Caldalk, where they are still, as far as I know. I believe she intends to use them to resurrect her disgusting sideshow again. I tried to free them, but could not without the key.”

  Nolan nodded, unable to speak as Rikar’s light continued to pour into him. No wonder the Guardians hadn’t returned. They were imprisoned.

  Rikar swayed, then righted himself. “The gypsy carries the key, as well as the stones.”

  Nolan pulled his eyes from Rikar and scanned the battle. Jezebelle sliced another pair of warriors before diving back to block Kael and Alec. They were working together against the gypsy. Even though she held all the powers, she struggled against the two best swordsmen in Adamah. He hadn’t noticed earlier, but a leather pouch—Nolan’s pouch—hung from her shoulder.

  The light around Rikar dimmed, his cheeks hollow. Guardian light pulsed into Nolan in rhythm with the beating of Rikar’s heart. The Guardian’s light faded. He was giving too much, too quickly. Nolan tried to pull away, but the transference of the power immobilized him.

  “I am so sorry for everything. For your mother,” Rikar said. “So sorry for what I have done.” He looked down at Nolan, dark, metallic hair spilling on either side of his face.

  The sounds of battle st
ill swelled, but it drifted in Nolan’s background. After all this time, he finally had a father who cared for him, who was there for him. Rikar had saved him so many times now that Nolan had lost count. He’d made mistakes, yes. But didn’t everyone? His human father had never sacrificed himself like this Guardian had. Rikar was ten times the father Belen was.

  The corner of Rikar’s mouth quirked into a smile, then it abruptly contorted in pain.

  Jezebelle yanked daggers from Rikar’s sides. She crossed the blades in front of the Guardian. In one quick yank, she sliced open his throat.

  “No!” Nolan yelled.

  Silver blood and light poured from the deep gouge, the light floating in the air like a cloud. Nolan’s body froze as the light met him, and the Guardian power rushed into him like water filling a vase. Rikar met Nolan’s eyes, then the light in his eyes faded to black. He crumpled to the ground.

  Nolan quivered; he’d never taken on so much power so quickly. His fatigue and weakness fell from him, and he jumped up, glaring at Jezebelle.

  She blinked, also taking in the Guardian’s power. For a long second, they stared at each other, astonished.

  “You killed our father!” Nolan spat between clenched teeth.

  She stared at him, confused. Then disgust dripped over her emotions. “He was not my father.”

  Nolan screamed as he dove toward her, grabbing his sword from the ground. The Guardian steel in the blade flashed to light like the sun.

  Jezebelle and Nolan both flinched, blinded. Nolan flared some Healing, blinking away the spots before his vision. Alec and Kael had been coming toward them, but they’d stopped, flinging their arms protectively over their faces.

  Nolan lunged toward Jezebelle, his light-filled sword raised. With a dagger in each hand, she dove in past his blade.

  They sliced and jabbed, then healed their wounds and attacked again.

  Nolan cut across her chest, through the strap of his bag. It fell before she realized what he’d done. He snatched it mid-fall and flung up his arm to protect his throat. Pain erupted, but he healed it closed.