Guardian

by P B Hughes

  “Tell me, Daniel,” said Marcus from behind them. “What is your story? I hear that all you Littleton whelps grew up in an orphanage.”

  Daniel’s eyes narrowed and he tilted his head. Ari knew he was wary of Marcus, but he cleared his throat and answered him all the same. “Some lived in orphanages,” Daniel said. “Others, Gregory and Martha for instance, arrived at Littleton when their parents died. Though Gregory’s father still lives.”

  “But you lived in an orphanage before Littleton?”

  “I did.”

  “What was that like?”

  Ari could see the hint of pain in Daniel’s eyes. She wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to talk about it—that he could leave those memories in their grave. But she knew that she couldn’t.

  “Permanent hunger,” Daniel said, looking down at the ground as he walked. “Watered down gruel, maybe stale bread if the baker couldn’t sell enough of his goods that week. And the nights were cold. Though I grew accustomed to that. Likely due to my Miraclism.”

  Ari noticed it grew strangely quiet, the entire group hanging on Daniel’s words.

  “But the other children,” Daniel continued, “they never seemed to get used to it. I can still see them in my mind—shivering in their beds during the winter nights. I gave my blanket to a little girl during a blizzard because she wouldn’t stop shaking. She looked up at me with sunken eyes, her skin cracked. I think she thought I would freeze to death, but I made her take it.” He paused a moment, his countenance darkening like an oncoming storm. “She was dead the next morning.”

  Marcus whistled in awe. “Sounds miserable. You don’t forget nights like that.”

  “No,” said Daniel. “And you don’t forget days like today.”

  Ari reflected on her own childhood. She remembered the warmth of her sprawling bed, big enough for four children to sleep comfortably. Doting servants, feasts, mountains of presents on her birthday. She was the only child to Helen and James Celeste, one of the wealthiest families in Orsidia. Naturally, they gave her all the attention she would ever need. She would be remiss not to credit them for much of her success. And then she thought of Daniel. He had done it all on his own. She suddenly felt guilty for her own birth family. There was no understanding she could give Daniel, no way for her to truly know his story, to feel it for herself.

  It was truly a shame he came from low-blood, she decided, for the things a boy like that could have accomplished in the right circumstances would have been astounding. She believed he would have made an excellent nobleman.

  The party came to a halt. Ari hadn’t noticed, but they were now at the edge of the forest. It was a strange sight—a wall of hunch-backed oaks, ancient and gnarled, rising up so thick you could see nothing between them but shadow. There was no wind; their branches did not stir. They were giants, here since the formation of the world.

  This was the Werwood Forest.

  “What’s the hold-up?” said Ambassador Sweeny. “Saragosa is just beyond—let’s get a move on!”

  Jude sat frozen in his saddle in front of them, his skin a pale shade. Ari rode up beside him. She had never seen him look that way before: unblinking, eyes wide, thin lips curled downward. The boy looked afraid.

  “Jude,” she said. “Jude, what’s wrong?”

  He did not reply.

  Daniel walked over to him. “Jude, are you all right?”

  Only Jude’s green eyes moved as they locked onto Daniel. “I can’t go in there. Something’s not right.”

  Ambassador Sweeny let out a shrill laugh. He spurred his horse in front of them and turned around. “Lost your nerve, boy? Is our Alpha finally feeling the weight of our mission on his shoulders? It’s not what you expected, I see.” He laughed again. “Go on. Lead the way, Alpha.”

  “Shut up, Sweeny,” said Daniel. “What’s not right, Jude?”

  Jude shook his head. “I don’t know. I just have this feeling that something is amiss—”

  “A feeling, bah!” said Sweeny. “I grow weary of this boy’s cowardice.”

  “He’s not a coward,” snapped Ari. Now her patience was wearing thin as well. She reached out and placed a hand on Jude’s shoulder. “There’s nothing to fear. We are safe together.”

  “I am not afraid,” said Jude. “I just do not like the feel of those woods.”

  “Since our so-called leader appears to be incapacitated,” Sweeny said, heading down the road toward the trees. “You all will follow me. It will take a month to go around this forest. So through it we go. Come now, tut-tut.”

  “He’s right, Jude,” said Daniel. “We’ll be on our guard. Staffs at the ready, what do you say?”

  Jude nodded and pulled his staff from the loops in his pouch, the green orb at the top flashing in the sun. Ari heard Marcus slide his broadsword from its sheath behind her.

  Perhaps the bandits lie in wait, thought Ari as she took hold of her own staff. If that’s the case, then we’ll teach those knaves the meaning of justice. She did not normally enjoy the idea of hurting anyone, but when she remembered the brutality administered upon the villagers, righteous anger blew what merciful thoughts remained from her mind.

  They followed Sweeny to the edge of the woods.The Ambassador did not wait for them. He crossed over the tree-lined threshold with a chuckle, clearly enjoying Jude’s distress.

  “When we arrive at Saragosa, then you will see the truth,” said Sweeny from ahead. “The people there are a fungus. A fungus festering beneath the toenail of the Empire. Best cut it out before it spreads, if you ask me.”

  “Nobody did ask you,” said Daniel.

  It was as if the last candle of hope for the man blew out in Ari’s mind. He might have been highborn, she thought, but it appeared that his status had infected what should have been a noble mind. It was his job to identify the needs of the people and meet them, not cut them out when they proved a burden.

  The path wound through trees, and though the sky was filled with sunshine, the insides of the woods were so dark it seemed to Ari that dusk had arrived several hours too soon. The farther they rode, the heavier the air became. Everyone grew quiet, including Ambassador Sweeny, who had finally ended his rant when no one seemed to be paying attention. An hour had passed when Ari finally saw a window of sunlight ahead. They rode down the path and out into a small clearing. A crag rose up on their right, its crest touching just above the treetops. Ari squinted as she raised her arm to shield against the light.

  “Everything is so still,” she said to Daniel.

  Daniel nodded, gently stroking Shade’s neck. The gryphon’s ears were perked and her catlike eyes darted to and fro into the trees. “It’s not natural. I don’t like the feel of this place any more than Jude does.”

  “Maybe we should go back the way we came. You and I could fly—scout ahead for a different way.”

  “Perhaps we should.”

  “Oh!” cried Ari as a rush of wind whirled past her ear. She looked back over her shoulder to see a sparrow disappear down the path and into the trees.

  “Are you okay, Ari?” asked Marcus.

  “I—I’m fine,” she replied. “It was only a bird.” Her heart palpitated inside her chest. She felt relieved, albeit slightly annoyed with herself for being frightened. “Let’s get a move on, shall we? The sooner we get out of these woods the better.”

  Then she heard it: a low growl rumbling from inside Shade’s throat. The gryphon crouched low on her front legs, long tail twitching—her ears rigid and alert.

  “What is it, girl?” Daniel asked, running a hand across her shoulders. “What do you hear?”

  The sound of beating wings and frightened squawks began to swell around them. Ari peered ahead but saw nothing more than the end of the path sinking down into the darkened forest. The rush grew louder, and with it so did Shade’s audible displeasure. The horses began to whinny nervously, backing away down the path.

  “Stupid beast,” said Sweeny as his horse edged backward. “Do as I
say or I’ll split your hide. Forward!” He reached into his saddle, pulled out a thin switch, and slashed at the horse’s rump.

  Then, the very branches of the trees in front of them exploded with life. Birds of all sorts—sparrows, owls, jays, finches, and many more shot through the air and past them in a blur. Then came the deer, foxes, rabbits, badgers, squirrels, even a bear—all of them ignoring the group of humans completely. Ari looked down at the ground. It was alive with snakes, lizards, mice, and other rodents she did not recognize, slithering and scurrying back down the path. She saw a spotted lizard crawl up and across her horse’s leg. With a terrified cry her horse reared up on its hind legs. Ari flew from the saddle and crashed to the ground. The world blurred in her eyes and she couldn’t breathe. She felt the cold skin of a toad hop across her body along with countless other creatures. And then, as quickly as they had appeared, the animals were gone.

  Her breath returned, and she looked up to see Daniel struggling with her horse’s reigns, trying to soothe her. Sweeny, Jude, and Marcus were having troubles of their own, their horses bucking and kicking. All the animals were spooked. All save Shade. She still stood, crouched, ready for whatever had set the entire forest to flight.

  “Be calm, you brainless hunk of meat,” cried Sweeny, beating his horse mercilessly as it tried to flee with the rest of the animals. “Be calm!”

  “Stop it,” Ari said, rising on all fours. Her head throbbed with pain, but she tried to ignore it. “Stop it. You’re hurting her!”

  Sweeny ignored the request. “I said,” he slashed at the horse’s neck and ribs, “be calm!”

  The horse froze, its entire body quivering as it stared with wild eyes down the road. The sight felt aberrant, leaving Ari with the most unsettling feeling—one second the horse was lurching with mad fright, and now it stood as if it were incapable of moving.

  “That’s better,” Sweeny said, straightening his cloak, sliding loose strands of hair back into place. “Enough of this nonsense. We progress! I lead the way now. And if any of you have a problem with it then you can follow your so-called Alpha as he retreats back to Brightcastle Hall. Now, follow me!”

  There was a twang, a swish, a thud. Sweeny gasped and then went silent. His hand rose to his sternum, and slowly, he turned to face the group. An arrow, long and black, protruded from his chest. He tried to speak, but no words came out. He fell to the ground in a heap.

  Another twang reverberated through the clearing. A firm hand wrenched Ari backward; an arrow sunk into the grass where she had been standing. Marcus leapt in front of her with a cry, armed with sword and shield.

  The undergrowth tore apart as dozens of black-armored goblins abandoned their hiding places. Gurgling cries filled the air and jagged blades flashed hot in the sun. A towering brute stepped forward and plunged his sword into the earth. He raised a bone-white horn to his lips and blew.

  Beside him, a gangly goblin crouched down on all fours, his corded body flexed. He screamed and vaulted forward, his bright red tongue swirling past his teeth. With one hand he clutched a spear, with the other he pawed the ground like an ape. The monsters behind charged, spurred by his zeal.

  Marcus met the goblin’s outstretched spear with his shield, and with one great stride he closed the distance between them and buried his blade into the vile creature’s belly.

  Ari felt the chill as a beam of ice blew past her, freezing a goblin mid-stride before he swung his serrated sword at Marcus. Daniel dashed past her and slid next to the cadet. The two of them repelled the wave of goblins with frost and blade.

  Three goblins charged through the woods to their left, unseen by Marcus and Daniel. Shade sprang overhead, colliding with the lead goblin, tearing into him with claws; the other two dodged the tangle.

  Ari jumped to her feet. “Look out!” she cried, swinging her staff. A gust of wind tore through the trees, knocking one goblin aside. But the last one still surged forward. Cruel pleasure glinted in his coal-black eyes as he raised his spear to hurl at Daniel.

  Ari shot a blast of wind at the ground and launched forward; the spear left the goblin’s grip. With a fleet-footed kick she deflected the projectile. But she did not stop there. She dug her toe in the dirt and rebounded into the air. The goblin’s pupils dilated as she rose and fell. With a crunch, she planted her heel into his face and he crumpled to the ground.

  Goblins were closing in all around them. There might have been fifty, hobbling between the trees like vultures, waiting for a chance to rip into their prey.

  “We’re surrounded,” Ari called out, her staff at the ready. “We have to—”

  Her breath caught as an unnoticed goblin tackled her from behind. The monster rolled her over to face him and screamed with delighted rage, his hot breath spraying like steam against her face. He raised his dagger and let it fall.

  A vine curled about the goblin’s wrist with a snap. He flew into the air, knocking into the branches overhead. Jude stood at the edge of the trees, eyes aglow with emerald fury.

  “Cover me,” he said, his voice laced with menace.

  Ari scrambled to his side, shooting blasts of wind this way and that to keep the goblins and their arrows at bay.

  Jude trilled his fingers, and the forest writhed with vines, slithering out into the clearing, searching for victims. A goblin flew into the air, and then another and another—and then a dozen at once. They rose and fell with horrible screams; all the while Jude stalked forward, Ari guarding his flank. Those that escaped the vines were met by Ari’s gusts.

  A goblin horn sounded. Those not slain retreated back into the trees.

  “That’s right,” cried Marcus after them. He spit blood to the ground and wiped his mouth. “Flee, cowards! Flee like the dogs you are.”

  “They aren’t running,” Daniel said. “They’re regrouping.”

  Ari and Jude came up beside them, followed by Shade, a furious growl in her chest.

  “Sweeny is dead,” said Jude, reaching into his pouch and pulling out a magenta mana-crystal. The crystal flashed as he absorbed the energy into his skin. “The poor fool didn’t stand a chance.”

  “Pity,” Marcus said. “Did you get the letter he was to deliver to Oldguard?”

  Jude reached into his cloak and pulled out an envelope. “I’ve got it, but I’m not sure what to do with it.”

  Then Ari heard the strangest sound. Laughter rang out amidst their battle, so familiar, yet so dissonant she could not place it. So cold it sent shivers running through her body.

  “Senseless slaughter,” said a voice, from where she could not tell. It sounded deep and hollow, as if coming from the inside of a cave. “So much death. And where, might I ask you all, where does it end?”

  A lump rose in Ari’s throat. It was a voice she knew.

  As if from nowhere, a figure appeared in front of the trees, shining ebony armor enveloping him from head to toe. But it was armor like Ari had never seen. Upon his head he wore a horned helm, the visor concealing his face fashioned like a fanged skull. Pauldrons covered his shoulders, curving upward into tapered points, and his breastplate was embossed with spiraling black flames. A crimson cape grazed the earth behind him. In his hand he held a long scepter with a blood-red orb fixed at the top.

  “No one frets over the death of a goblin,” said the man. “For they are lowly.”

  Ari readied her staff.

  It can’t be him, it can’t be him.

  “But should I kill any of you,” the armored figure continued, stepping forward, “well, the world would weep as if it were some great tragedy.” He halted at the body of a dead goblin and looked down. “But I tell you this,” he said, nudging its body with the toe of his sabaton. “Your lives are as worthless as the frog-skin’s.” Slowly, the figure turned the vacant sockets of his skull-faced helm upon them. “That is, all of you save one.”

  “Who are you?” cried Daniel.

  He laughed. “Oh, but you should know that by now, Littleton. Or are you too afraid
to admit it?”

  “Show yourself!” Marcus shouted.

  The man’s chest rose and fell as he took in heavy breaths. “As you wish,” he said. He reached up and lifted his horned helm from his head. Strands of gold hair tumbled down about his face, and he peered at them with wicked yellow eyes.

  “Caden,” breathed Ari.

  Chapter 15

  Jude had always believed fear to be the symptom of a fragile mind. An emotion that controlled and deceived; a sensation he fought to master as a child. And he believed he had won. But when he caught sight of the Werwood Forest for the first time, fear gripped his senses in an ever-tightening vice. Now Caden stood before him, and he felt a terror so palpable it crept across his skin and throbbed in his ears. It was foul in his sweat and bitter on his tongue. He was paralyzed, rooted in place.

  An image from his nightmares flashed across his vision—the man in black armor; tar, smoke, and ash. The man that had plagued his sleep night after night stood before him. And now he knew his name.

  Jude noticed Caden’s skin. He looked sickly—ghastly white; dark rings encircled his eyes as if he were a man who no longer slept. Still, there was energy about him; some prodigious power transformed him from the boy he once was into something else entirely.

  Then Jude realized that the rings around his eyes were not skin. They were as dark and scaly as serpent’s flesh.

  “Caden,” said Ari’s trembling voice. “Caden, what have they done to you?”

  “Done to me?” he replied. He chuckled and shook his head. “My dear, they have done nothing to me except show me the light. Or should I say—” he exhaled, and a flicker of black flame rose up from his mouth “—they have shown me the darkness.”