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Ghost and Guardian: Part One: Lord

Page 8

by Sanan Kolva


  This is... mine? All of it?

  Lucian waited for her in the main room. “Do you like it? Is it large enough? If it’s too small, I can—”

  “This is for me?” she interrupted.

  “It is. It’s your home, for as long as you want it.”

  Her eyes stung. She wiped them quickly, hoping he didn’t notice. She swallowed hard. “No one’s ever...” No one’s ever invited me to stay. Never offered me a place all to myself.

  Lucian seemed to understand the words she didn’t say. “If no one’s ever offered you a place of your own, they were obviously idiots.”

  That startled a laugh from her. “Idiots, huh? All of them?”

  “All of them,” Lucian said. “And that’s my opinion as leader of Forest Town.”

  If she thought long about this gift, she was going to break down, and she refused to break down in front of Lucian. “So do you just have a bunch of extra homes tucked away in the trees for people, or something?”

  “Nope. I make them as we need them. I thought you’d like this spot, where you can keep an eye on things.”

  “You... make them.” Looking around, she saw seamless wood floor and walls. No boards or nails. And he chose this spot just for me. A spot where I can see someone coming, and they can’t sneak up on me. “You mean, with magic?”

  He nodded.

  “So, you can make trees into houses overnight, and make rock walls appear and disappear at will.”

  “I can also mind-speak with other elves and fly,” Lucian told her.

  “Wait, you can fly?” Cylin demanded.

  He shrugged. “Well, I can make objects float, and that includes myself. Or other people.”

  She stared at him, then shook her head with a laugh. “I think it might be faster for you to tell me what you can’t do than what you can!”

  Lucian didn’t laugh. “I can’t heal. I don’t have any ability to locate people or things. I can’t read minds or shapeshift. And while I can shape plants, metal, and stone, I can’t do anything with synthetic materials like plastic. I know how to work glass, but only the normal way, no magic involved. I can’t shape bone or coral.”

  “Bone’s pretty brittle,” Cylin said. “And we’re a long way from anywhere with coral. That is an ocean thing, right?”

  “It is. Bone can be reinforced with magic to strengthen it. And coral…” He stopped. “Willow’s lair lay in the ocean. She called it the Coral Palace. No rock. No metal. Nothing I could use.” His voice grew very soft on the last sentences.

  “So she could manipulate those, but you can’t?” Cylin wasn’t sure if she was moving the conversation in a safer direction.

  Lucian nodded. “Some abilities run in families, but that doesn’t mean that every child will have every ability. The only ones that seem to be universal are mind-speech and an ability to sense where another had worked magic. And even those aren’t strong with every elf.”

  “So you being able to do all this isn’t normal, even for an elf?”

  “No. Some elves have one or two abilities beyond those we all share, in varying strengths. But me…” He sighed. “I am my father’s son.”

  “And that’s not a good thing?”

  “My father is incredibly powerful magically and very attractive. That sort of person draws attention, and not all of it is welcome. Like my mother, and others who saw him as someone to manipulate, control, and use, or they saw him as a threat to their own position, a rival, even though he didn’t want what they had. Power is a trap. You never have enough. Someone else always has more. Like my father, I have enough to be dangerous. Enough to be a threat, but too often, not enough to protect the people and things that matter.” He leaned against the wall, eyes distant. Then he straightened, shaking his head. “But I didn’t come here to whine. I came here to show you your new house!”

  He didn’t want to talk more about his past. She forced the rest of her questions back, though he hadn’t really answered her. She was once again confronted by the overwhelming fact that this was hers. “It’s… I don’t know what to say about this, Lucian, except… thank you.”

  He smiled. “You don’t have to say anything, Cylin. That’s my job. My job to tell you ‘Welcome home.’”

  At first, Cylin thought she only imagined subtle shifts in the attitudes of the people of Forest Town toward her. They’d always been welcoming and friendly, but once she moved into her own home, they accepted her as one of them. She only recognized the slight caution, the hesitation to form too close of ties to her once it was gone. A house made her part of the community rather than a wandering transient who might vanish like the morning dew.

  People whose names she barely knew took the time to ask what she needed to be ready for winter. Fellow field workers chatted with her about the weather, or the coming harvest. They invited her to make preserves with them. They brought housewarming gifts and laughed off her protests that she didn’t have anything to offer in return.

  After a week of her new status as a member of Forest Town, Cylin sought out Devin at his house, first thing in the morning. His residence sat on a lower branch than most, giving him fewer steps to climb. The house looked about the same size as hers. When she knocked, she heard a surprised, “Come in?”

  She opened the door and stepped into a house that looked very little like her own. She wasn’t sure why she expected that it ought to. His walls held shelves lined with wood carvings such as she’d seen him whittling. A cane rested in a stand by the door, though she’d rarely seen him use it. Several cushioned chairs provided seating. Devin sat at the table, a steaming mug before him.

  He blinked at her in surprise. “Cylin? Something wrong?”

  “I need to ask you something.” She spoke quickly, wanting to get the question out before she second-guessed it.

  “About Lord Lucian?” he asked. He waved at the table. “Sit down? Want something to drink?”

  She sat across the table from him and waved off the offer of a drink. “Not about Lucian. About Forest Town. And it probably sounds like a stupid question.”

  “Uh, okay…” Devin said uncertainly. “What is it?”

  She rested her elbows on the table and looked at him intently. “Is this all some weird setup, or are people acting like this for real?” At his puzzled expression, she added, “People here in Forest Town. They act like they are actually pleased that I decided to stay. Is that for real, is that an act, or is it a ploy to get me to relax so everyone can have a laugh at the idea that I’d think they want me here?”

  Devin’s expression passed from surprised, to indignant, to unexpectedly sympathetic. “It’s genuine. People really do want you to stay. They just… kind of forget what it was like to be suspicious of everything.”

  “You can forget that?” Cylin asked, dubious.

  “Yeah, you can. Eventually. Until someone reminds you.” After a pause, Devin said, “For the first couple of years here, I didn’t trust anyone except Lord Lucian, and maybe Doctor Kinnel. I figured anyone else would sell me to the bone men, given half a chance.”

  And from what he’d implied, he would have difficulty running away if someone did try to drag him away. At least she knew she could fight someone off. “Is that why you decided to become the door guard for Lucian? So that if you needed help, he’d be close enough to hear?”

  He considered. “I don’t think I thought of it quite like that, but I guess so. One reason, at least. Wasn’t like I could work in the fields or be a good scout, in any case. I know Lord Lucian doesn’t really need someone up there, but other people seem to feel like it makes things more… dunno, official to have a gatekeeper. Like they think it’s how things ought to be.”

  “Huh.” She considered that. “So, maybe they also think that welcoming in strangers and newcomers is also ‘how things ought to be,’ so they do it because they want it to be ‘normal’ instead of weird and suspicious.”

  “Kind of, except that they don’t remember that to some people, it i
s weird and suspicious to be treated like we’re… one of them, and not a resource they can sell to the bone men in a pinch.”

  A deep boom, as much felt as heard, interrupted them. Cylin started, for one terrifying instant fearing an earthquake. Devin jerked to his feet. He nearly fell, and clung to the table for support. “That’s the alarm drum!”

  For a moment, his words made no sense. Then Cylin grabbed toward her waist. With a jolt and a cold sinking in her gut, she realized she’d left both her pistol and her bag in her house. She would never have let such a lapse happen even a month ago.

  Devin scrambled for the door at a limping run. She followed, heart racing.

  Outside, people poured onto the walkways in various states of dress or undress, caught in the midst of their morning rituals. Cylin’s gaze swept the ground for the source of the alarm. She saw someone beating a mallet against a massive hide drum, and the sound vibrated through the trees.

  Lucian sprinted into the village. Cylin wasn’t certain his feet actually touched the ground. The sentry let the mallet drop, and eerie silence fell over Forest Town. The sentry drew a deep breath, and even from where she stood, Cylin could see that he was shaking.

  “Lord Lucian, bandits in the forest. Coming toward the village. I counted twelve armed men from two trucks. I think the leader is a bone man!”

  Lucian’s expression grew grim. “Thank you. Get to shelter.” He looked up to the trees. His gaze found Cylin and Devin, and though he addressed his words to everyone, Cylin was sure he was speaking to her. “Stay in the trees and out of sight. I’ll take care of this.”

  Cylin opened her mouth to protest. “But--” Could I make it to my house before the bandits arrive? If I can get my gun…

  Devin’s hand gripped her arm. “Don’t.”

  “What?” She spun to face him. “He’s not going to face them alone!”

  “Yes, he is.” Devin kept hold of her arm. “Trust him. Lord Lucian can handle them.”

  “Twelve armed bandits? Alone?” She looked to the other platforms. Some people had gone inside and shut their doors tight. Others had retrieved weapons, but no one lined up to form a defensive firing line or take advantage of their height and concealment to prepare a killing field. Doctor Kinnel and others covered the doors that were at ground level, and when they pulled them closed, the buildings seemed to vanish even when she knew what to look for.

  They really do think Lucian can handle this alone. Have they forgotten how to protect themselves? Her jaw tightened. Gods of my family, protect Lucian. Please.

  Lucian strode to the center of the village and stood in front of the well. His back was to Forest Town and his gaze fixed on the forest. On the walkways, parents comforted their children, holding them close and whispered reassurances or ushered them inside. Stillness hung over the village as everyone waited. Cylin found herself counting heartbeats, but her pulse raced too fast to offer any sense of time.

  I could still get back to my house. Get my gun.

  The crash of breaking branches interrupted the stillness. Figures gathered at the edge of the clearing, then advanced, guns trained on Lucian.

  Cylin stiffened. “What the fuck is he doing here?”

  Devin glanced over at her sharp whisper. “Who?”

  She pointed to the brute walking beside the apparent leader. “That’s Hakon. He was one of Pryor’s thugs. I don’t see Pryor or Alger, though. What’s he doing with these guys?”

  Devin shivered. “Don’t know, but that guy in the middle is definitely a bone man. He’s got that weirdly perfect face.”

  Cylin focused on the leader and understood what Devin meant. The man’s handsome features were as smooth as if they’d been molded in plaster. Something about his face was just a little off—not enough for her to pinpoint exactly what was wrong, but enough to give her the creepy sensation that she was looking at someone wearing a human face like a mask.

  I have a perfect shot at him from here. Dammit, how could I have been so stupid as to leave my gun in the house?

  Hakon glowered at Lucian and glanced to the bone man. “That’s him. The guy who ran off with the girl we was gonna give you.”

  Lucian plucked an insect off the rim of the well and watched it creep across his fingers. Without even looking back at the intruders, he asked. “What business do you have here?”

  “You took somethin’ that didn’t belong to you, and we’re gonna take it back,” Hakon sneered.

  “Should I remember you?” Lucian asked, dismissive. “I’ve seen enough scum in my days, why would you matter to me?”

  The bone man spoke. “You took a girl before the promised tribute could be paid. The debt remains, and we have come to collect it.”

  Hakon laughed. “If you haven’t sold her off yourself. Hmm, nah, you probably got other uses for pretty young girls. And pretty young boys as well, if rumors is true.”

  Devin stiffened beside Cylin.

  If Hakon expected anger, Lucian disappointed him. “Ah. You’re one of the slimeballs who tried to carve Cylin’s face to sell to the bone men. I told you that you’d be wise to leave me alone. Clearly, you’re no smarter than you look.”

  While Hakon fumbled for a response, the bone man laughed. “You have hidden well, lord of the forest. The tales claim you have hidden an entire village under these boughs. I seek only the one promised us. The underlings will no doubt expect some of the conquerors’ share from the rest of the village, but if you comply, I will ensure their lusts are restrained.”

  Lucian didn’t flinch. His voice was cold and hard. “You won’t leave here alive.”

  “That is your answer? A pity.” The bone man nodded to the thugs. “Aim for something not fatal. We shall make use of him.”

  Cylin gasped as the crack of gunfire erupted. Devin gripped her shoulder tightly.

  Lucian didn’t move. The two thugs who’d circled to either side of him fell on the ground, writhing and bleeding. Lucian looked to one side, then the other, then back to the bone man. “I’m not good at ‘not fatal’ when someone shoots at me.”

  The remaining men gaped at him, then began firing. Lucian strode toward them, bullets veering and curving around him. In a pause while they frantically reloaded, Lucian spoke, voice tight with fury. “You think I’ll allow you to attack my home, threaten my people, and succeed? You will take nothing from here. Not even your lives.”

  In a sudden burst of movement, he rushed one of the men. Grabbing the barrel of the man’s rifle, Lucian bent it up and back so that it pointed at its wielder. “Did you think the rumors about me were lies and foolishness? Or did you listen to them at all?”

  The man’s mouth opened and closed without sound, like a fish out of water. Lucian raised a hand, fingers curled like claws as if he intended to tear the man’s eyes out. When he’d rescued Cylin from Pryor, Lucian had been calm, cold, calculating. What she saw now was pure, raw fury.

  The man dropped his ruined gun and scrambled back, babbling incoherently. Lucian finally lowered his hand and straightened. Something in his stance changed, as if he shed the fury and donned a calmer, if no less angry, demeanor. Around his feet, blades of fresh grass sprouted out of the ground. The trees seemed to lean closer, looming over the intruders.

  Never taking her eyes off Lucian, Cylin whispered, “Has he gone ‘Ghost’?”

  Tension radiated from Devin. “No. No, this isn’t the Ghost at all. I’m... not sure what it is.”

  Men backed away from Lucian. Hakon glared at them and pointed his handgun at Lucian. “Fucking cowards! He’s just one nutcase with some cheap tricks!”

  “How many children have you murdered?” Lucian demanded, voice cold and hard. He stepped toward Hakon. “How many have you raped? Sold to the bone men? Ripped from their parents, their families, their homes? How many have you carved up piece by piece? We find those you leave behind, the broken pieces that you abandon, forgotten and lost. We give them life and hope, and we will never let you touch Cylin or any of our people
.”

  Hakon squeezed the trigger. His gun exploded. He screamed, falling to his knees and clutching the bloody mess of his hand. His face bled from dozens of cuts and gashes from flying shards of metal. Lucian loomed over him. The ground trembled. Cylin gripped a railing.

  “Devin, what’s happening?”

  “I don’t know,” Devin whispered, his voice quavering.

  A crack opened beneath Hakon. Even the bone man scrambled away from him. Hakon’s head jerked up, and Cylin saw his mouth move, but she couldn’t hear his words over the cracking and shaking of the ground. He grabbed at Lucian, but Lucian stepped out of reach. Hakon scrabbled for a hold on the dirt, but the crack opened wide and the earth crumbled under his hand. Cylin saw hate, fear, and pain on his face as he fell into the darkness. A thick green vine coiled out of the crack and snatched the retreating bone man’s ankle before he could escape. He shouted in fear and alarm as it dragged him into the dark opening in the earth. The edges of the crack slammed together over him, cutting off his final shout of rage. Cylin clung to the railing, her eyes wide, forgetting even to breathe.

  She couldn’t see Lucian’s face, but his stance betrayed nothing as he turned toward the remaining men, who stood frozen in shock as the ground swallowed their leader. Lucian’s voice carried clearly in the sudden silence.

  “Run.”

  Three men shouted in rage or fear and charged at him. The rest bolted for the forest.

  None of them made it.

  The ground cracked again, but this time it did not swallow the men. Plants burst through the packed dirt, tangles of vines and saplings that swarmed after the men like a starving pack of wolves to lame elk. Cylin saw a branch impale one man through the gut. Another was swept off his feet by vines. She had a glimpse of his limbs being torn apart before the mass of plants swallowed him and his horrified screams. She couldn’t move and couldn’t look away as the men who had come to take revenge on her and on Lucian were slaughtered. The leaves of the plants were dyed red and the thorns dripped blood.

 

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