Guardians of the Dead

by S. L. Wilson

‘I can only tap into my fae magic to calm someone’s emotions or relieve their pain, but Indi’s trying to help me find my witch power. I can fight with swords though which is pretty cool. My dad was a brave warrior and he was a champion with his sword and staff.’

  Amber noticed how his eyes twinkled when he spoke about his father, the admiration clearly evident.

  ‘You miss them.’ It was a statement rather than a question and Connor nodded.

  ‘I was only young when they were killed, but I still remember them. My father would practise his martial arts every day after work, and my mother worked as a counsellor at the local school; the kids loved her. I guess I inherited her skills for calming hysterical students.’ He winked at her and she suddenly felt very shy, remembering the feel of his hands on her face.

  ‘The purple faerie eyes do kinda give the game away though,’ he added, as he offered the bag of cakes up for her.

  Amber laughed and retrieved a jam doughnut, trying to avoid spilling jam down herself as she pondered her own heritage.

  ‘Would your destiny spell work on me, Indi?’

  India shook her head. ‘You’re human so it wouldn’t do anything but fizz and pop.’

  Connor looked pointedly at his aunt. ‘Maybe we could try it for her, you never know, her dad may be a shape-shifter or something.’

  Amber laughed. ‘I wish he could be; my dad is Mr-oh-so-boring. Patricia on the other hand is definitely a coyote or something.’

  There was nervous laughter from India and Connor but she dismissed it. Her dislike for Patricia was obviously a private joke that only Tom understood.

  ‘It won’t do any harm,’ India said, as she reviewed the spell. ‘You probably won’t even feel a tingle, but we can try.’

  WHEN THE hot chocolate and cakes had gone, Amber nestled herself inside the circle of salt that India said would protect her against bad energies. She was instructed to sit cross-legged, with her palms resting in her lap, facing up and her eyes closed.

  ‘Breathe in deeply, in and out, and keep that steady rhythm as we do the spell.’

  As she sat breathing deeply and trying not to giggle, she began to think about her own family. Her dad worked so hard to provide for her and Patricia, but over the past ten years he had become more and more detached from her. She loved him so much, but when he looked at her it was as if he didn’t really see her. It made her heart break a little more every day.

  She could picture her mum clearly. Her brown hair was cropped at the nape of her neck and her long fringe swept across her forehead with a single strip of silver hair, about an inch wide, that she tucked behind her ear. She had always joked that having kids had turned her grey, but Amber had loved how unique it made her mum. Her hazel eyes held a flicker of blue and they had sparkled whenever the two of them had talked. Amber had never understood what drove her mum away. Her dad never mentioned it, and he had wallowed in self-pity for a few weeks before meeting Patricia. Moving on for him had been much easier than it had for her; she missed her mum so much that her heart ached.

  As her mind whirled through the memories of her mum, she could feel a strange pulsating in her hands and feet.

  She was shuffling slightly on the spot, thinking her limbs must be going to sleep, when she was suddenly engulfed in a heavy windstorm, every inch of her skin tingled, and she felt her long hair whipping around her face.

  She screwed her eyes tightly shut, her heart racing as she was battered by the winds surrounding her.

  ‘Humans don’t feel a thing.’ That’s what India had said.

  She no longer felt the wooden floor beneath her; instead she felt an odd weightlessness. Her head was thumping and the vibration strumming through her body was intense. Her mouth was so dry, as if she hadn’t had a drink for a month.

  Just when she was ready to shout for India to stop, the winds ceased and she could feel the floor beneath her legs. She was shaking from head to foot, her eyes still closed and her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Very slowly she flexed her fingers and opened her eyes.

  Connor and India were crouched on the floor behind the counter. The shop looked like a tornado had passed through it, and as she looked around her she noticed the circle of salt, her protection, had been scattered.

  With wobbly legs Amber stood up and looked again at the salt. The circle was gone, and instead the unmistakable shape of an eye stared back at her.

  ‘I’m going to take a stab in the dark here and say I’m not human.’

  Her friends shook their heads.

  ‘Well that’s just terrific,’ she mumbled.

  IT DIDN’T take long to straighten out the shop; they worked in silence as they reassembled the wands, collected the tumble stones and picked up the many books.

  Finally Amber couldn’t take the silence anymore. ‘Is anyone going to tell me what happened?’

  India took a deep breath, holding on tightly to the counter. ‘As a human, that destiny spell should not have even fizzed or popped.’ She glanced around the shop briefly. ‘As you can see, there was more than a little fizz!’

  ‘It felt like I was floating, and my whole body was tingling.’

  ‘Did you see any pictures or hear voices in your head?’ Connor spoke for the first time, without looking up from his sweeping brush.

  ‘Not really, I was thinking about my mum, and I could see her face really clearly in my mind. I saw her eyes, clothes and that quirky silver strand in her hair.’

  They both stopped what they were doing to stare at her in amazement. India reached below the counter and pulled out a tiny compact from her bag. She handed it to Amber and nodded for her to take a look.

  Lifting the small mirror in front of her she looked at the face that peered back. Her features were the same, but her eyes looked different; the deep chocolate brown had a small fleck of white in the centre that glowed like a light bulb. The mirror couldn’t fit all of her image so she moved it slightly and stopped as she caught sight of her reflection. The long dark waves still framed her face, but to the left was an inch wide strip of pure silver hair. She reached out to touch it, winding the strand around her index finger as she tried to swallow down the despair she felt clawing its way up her throat.

  ‘I look like my mum,’ she whispered, her voice breaking in a sob.

  India gave her a tight hug and ushered her to the sofa. ‘Who was your mother?’

  ‘I don’t know, I don’t remember much.’ She pulled at the silver tendril. ‘I was only six when she left and Dad didn’t tell me anything. I remember what she looked like, her smell and her smile, but that’s pretty much it.’

  Connor knelt in front of her and ran a hand over her hair; she instantly felt a sense of calm descend over her. He kept his hand cupped around her cheek, and she nestled against him, relishing the feeling.

  ‘You are rocking some major power,’ he said softly. ‘It might be time to get your dad to fill you in on your family history.’

  She let out a soft whimper and nodded; maybe the time had come to rebond with her dad.

  The house was empty when she got home; a note on the counter informed her that her dad had taken Patricia out for dinner and that there was leftover casserole in the fridge for her. Amber opted for an apple instead and flopped down on the nearest chair to contemplate the day.

  She wasn’t human. How did you start to process that kind of a bombshell? Connor had been really sweet, and once he had used his funky fae powers on her she had felt more like her old self and less like the quivering wreck she had been after the spell.

  Her looks, on the other hand, were far from normal. The strip of silver in her hair fell across her eyes, and she twirled it around her finger absent-mindedly. Had her mum been a witch?

  That was the only explanation India could come up with. She was going to have to ask her dad but where did she start? ‘Hey¸ Dad, pass the salt, and by the way was Mum a witch before she dumped you and walked out? Maybe not.

  Her phone vibrated and jolted her b
ack from her daydreams [Cemetery,now!T]

  Amber leapt from the chair and stared at the small screen for what seemed like an age; she’d been sending messages to Tom every hour and not heard a word, which had deepened her suspicions that he had been taken by the Guardians, but now here he was, alive and well. Her thoughts were jumbled as she worked through every scenario for his lack of contact. If he wasn’t dead or dying, then she was going to kill him herself for putting her through so much trauma. She tucked her phone in her pocket and sprinted for the front door.

  IT WAS dark as she hurried along the deserted street; ever since the beheading incident, the residents of Hills Heath had been hiding behind locked doors.

  She sent a quick message to tell Connor that Tom hadn’t been taken by the Guardians and had got in touch and quickened her pace.

  She had missed Tom so much; they had been inseparable since they were small children, and he understood her like no-one else could. They needed each other to survive the gaping hole that their respective parents had left, and as she ran towards the cemetery wall, she realised that she didn’t work without him.

  The police tents had been removed from the churchyard, and it was back to being the usual creepy old graveyard she knew and loathed. His message hadn’t told her specifically where to meet so she clambered over the lichen-covered wall and crouched low to avoid being spotted from the town square.

  Her eyes adjusted to the gloom and she could make out the grimy headstones surrounding her. Her breathing was heavy as she wound her way through the graves. Most of the stones were crumbling from age and neglect, names and dates weathered to an illegible smear, and the whole place smelt of damp earth and death.

  A movement in her peripheral vision caused her to freeze to the spot; she could feel the sweat trickling down her back as she shielded herself behind a large grey angel with its hands outstretched to the heavens.

  Her heart was hammering inside her ribcage as she waited for Tom to show himself. A deep feeling of foreboding crept over her, and she mentally kicked herself for rushing into this situation without giving it any rational thought.

  A sound close behind caused her blood to turn to ice; she could feel cold breath on her neck. She slowly turned to face whoever, or whatever, was standing there.

  The man was tall, much taller than Amber. His hooded cape covered his head and face, his breastplate was in her line of sight and the red phoenix emblazoned across the armour sent a ripple of shock through her whole body. Its bright red features matched the red eyes she could make out beneath the hood.

  ‘I know what you are,’ she said, her voice quavering. ‘I know that you are taking my friends.’

  To her surprise the man chuckled, a deep throaty sound that was bereft of any humour.

  He reached out and trailed his gloved finger down the side of her face, lifting her chin with his index finger so she couldn’t look away.

  ‘Amber Noble,’ he said, causing Amber to squirm under his touch. How did this creature from another realm know her name?

  He let go of her and grasped either side of his hood. With a flourish he tore back the cloth to reveal his face.

  ‘Dan!’ she backed away, horrified at the sight of him.

  The boy she had once known was no longer a boy; his muscles had developed to reveal arms as thick as tree trunks, his solid neck met with a hard mass of chest and he looked like he had been pumped full of steroids. His head was shaved and a deep purple tattoo snaked up his neck and across his scalp, the swirls of ink moving with him as if alive, and the ink running freely beneath the skin, swirling and shifting.

  His blood red eyes watched her stumble over rocks and tree roots in a feeble attempt to get away. His top lip curled up in a snarl and he moved forward with unusually stealthy grace for such a huge bulk.

  Amber was trying hard not to scream. Attracting attention could land some innocent boy in a whole heap of Guardian trouble if they attempted a rescue.

  ‘You killed Kelly,’ she cried as she scrambled along the dirt.

  The thing that was Dan chuckled again. ‘Not me…a demon, he was punished.’

  ‘The Dragovax?’

  ‘Clever girl.’ He stopped moving briefly and cocked his head to one side. ‘Your friends are here to save you, little eye, but none of you can save him.’

  Amber looked behind her to where Dan was pointing and let out a tumultuous cry. Tom lay on the ground, covered in blood from a gash to his head. His arms were limp by his sides and his glassy eyes were fixed on the night sky. Protruding from his chest was a thin dagger, buried up to its hilt in his heart. Amber could see his chest rising and falling as he struggled to breathe.

  ‘No!’ she screamed.

  Dan grabbed the back of her hair and, wrenching her off the floor, tossed her to the side where she collided with a dirty stone tablet which cracked in two as she hit it. Her face smashed into the dirt and she spat the blood from her mouth. Her arm was on fire and when she tried to move it she yelled out in pain.

  She watched helplessly as Dan scooped up her best friend and made his way to the church doors.

  She called out to Tom, but he was unconscious, his body limp in Dan’s arms.

  Dan looked deep into Amber’s eyes and snarled, ‘We have our three – payment has been made. Until we meet again, little eye.’ And then they were gone.

  She could hear Connor shouting her name, and she tried to answer between her sobs, but her grief overwhelmed her and she pressed her forehead against the dirt, closing her eyes and letting the darkness take her.

  AMBER FELT like she had been asleep forever. Her body ached in places she didn’t know existed, but she felt a strange sense of calm. Her memories were a jumble of pictures, flames, red eyes…TOM.

  Her eyes snapped open and she saw Connor sitting by her side holding her hand and stroking her hair.

  ‘Stop it,’ she snapped at him. He winced as the sting of her words hit him. Amber felt guilt drive through her.

  ‘I’m sorry, Connor, but I need to feel.’ Her voice was a low whisper. ‘If I don’t deal with my grief it will eat away at me.’

  ‘I understand,’ he said, leaning over her. ‘I don’t want to take your emotions away, I’m trying to remove your physical pain.’

  He took his hands away from her, and for a minute she tried to register his words. Then the agony descended, twisting through her limbs. She winced as the searing pain shot up from her toes and seeped into every bone and every muscle. She groaned.

  ‘You’ve broken your arm, two ribs and bruised your ankle.’ India’s voice was soft as she approached the sofa that was now a makeshift bed.

  ‘We didn’t want to take you home.’ She smiled at Amber but it didn’t reach her eyes, ‘I wasn’t sure how your dad would react.’

  Amber swallowed down the scream that was threatening to surface and shook her head, stopping abruptly as even that movement caused her pain.

  ‘I haven’t had a chance to talk to him yet.’ She coughed as she spoke and cringed at the hurt it caused.

  ‘Please let me help you,’ urged Connor. Amber nodded and felt the intense pain subside as he began stroking his fingers across her forehead.

  ‘What happened?’

  Amber went over the night’s events in her mind, ‘Tom sent me a message telling me to get to the cemetery. I didn’t think, I just ran.’

  TEARS ROLLED down her cheeks and Connor smoothed them away with a tender touch. ‘And was he there?’

  ‘Yes,’ she nodded. ‘I saw him, he was broken and the Guar…Dan!’ She suddenly remembered. ‘The Guardian was Dan, but not the Dan I went to school with, he was all muscles and inky tattoo and freaky red eyes. He called me little eye and then he took Tom. He stabbed him and then he took him.’ Her whole body shook as she cried, clinging to Connor as she let all her pent-up grief out.

  She eventually cried herself to sleep cocooned in Connor’s arms.

  She could see Tom walking down the church path. He was with her mum
and they were laughing. She tried to reach them but the flames wrapped around her ankles like chains. She tried calling to them but she choked on the dry heat. They turned together and looked in her direction, their expressions blank. As she shouted out they hissed at her and then walked into the wall of flames beyond the church door. She called for them to stop. The scene shifted and she was in a garden filled with sweet-scented flowers and fruit trees. A boy stood beneath one of the trees, his long white hair glistening in the sun and his deep purple eyes twinkled as he smiled at her. She felt her heart swell as she gazed at him, his features as familiar to her as her own. She tried to cry out as a figure appeared behind him, a hooded figure with red eyes, and as the man plunged a dagger into the boy’s back, she screamed.

  Her eyes flew open and she took a moment to get her bearings. The shop was in darkness, and someone had covered her with a blanket as she slept. Connor was nowhere to be seen, so without his faerie magic, her aches and pains had returned, although they weren’t as bad as they had been earlier.

  She swung her legs off the sofa and steadied herself into a sitting position. Her head was spinning like she’d just stepped off the carousel at the funfair.

  Give it a minute, she told herself as she dug her fingernails into the soft fabric.

  India was fast asleep on the floor by the storeroom, wrapped in a woollen cloak and clutching her Book of Shadows.

  Amber shifted on the seat, careful not to wake her. She looked at her left arm which was covered in bruises of every colour imaginable. India had said it was broken, but Amber could move it without too much pain. She lifted her leg and wiggled her ankle; she couldn’t see any bruising or swelling there either.

  A voice in the darkness startled her. ‘You’ve healed yourself.’

  Connor moved out of the shadows and came to sit beside her. He held yet another dusty, leather-bound book.

  The front cover was intricately carved to look like an eye. Amber recognised the shape from the pattern of salt from their earlier destiny spell. Had that really only happened that morning? It felt like an eternity ago.