The Guardian (Callista Ryan Series)

by Alexandra Weiss

  The wooden floor was what did it. As soon as she saw those planks, the memories of last night swooped into her mind with stunning clarity, and she felt a swift moment of panic. Her muscles froze, contracting in horror, as she replayed the scenes. She groaned and rolled further onto her other side, facing away from the back of the couch. And then she winced when she remembered that she actually had to cooperate with these…whatever they were called. They still didn’t seem real.

  But she wasn’t short on reminders of their existence. Almost as soon as she had rolled onto her side, she gasped.

  There, standing against the wall, was the blond man from last night. He was in the same stance which he’d been in the last time she had seen him, his arms folded, his face expressionless. He leaned backwards against the wooden panels, watching her, always watching her.

  Self-conscious and startled, Callie drew the blanket around her as a sort of shield. His expression didn’t change; he barely blinked. This lack of emotion evoked traces of anger left over from the night before, every piece of which was now solely focused upon him.

  “Do you make a habit of creeping up on people?” she snapped. He didn’t reply. She saw that he hadn’t changed his clothes, at least not that she could tell. He still wore a pair of white, loose-fitting pants which hung down to his ankles. No shirts were allowed in this rainforest, apparently, as he still wasn’t wearing one of those. After a few moments, Callie sighed and rubbed her forehead in resignation, remembering Maggie’s face.

  She stood up, wrapping the blanket around her, and leveled him with a determined glare. He stood like a statue, regarding her every movement with interest. “Alright,” she said in a less than friendly tone of voice. “I’ll help you. But the moment, and I mean the second that I am finished, you take me right back home. Deal?”

  “That sounds like an excellent plan,” came a masculine voice. Only it wasn’t the voice of the man in front of her.

  Callie turned and saw the dark-haired man perched in the doorway, folding his wings behind him as he strode into the room. She flinched, and watched as he circled a counter on the far end of the room. “Alexander,” he said, moving lithely across the space. “I trust your errand went well?” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the blond man nod once.

  She hadn’t realized before that there was anything to the small room other than the minimally decorated living space, but now she saw that the entire far corner was sectored off by marble counters and high chairs, and beyond that was a little kitchenette. The man now walked into that kitchen and poured himself a mug of what looked to be coffee. He glanced up and found her watching him.

  “Am I being rude?” he asked.

  She didn’t answer, confused. He lifted the coffee pot in explanation.

  “Would you like some?” he clarified.

  She shook her head, unwilling to risk drinking anything else that these people gave her, though she did desperately want a cup of coffee. The man smirked, seeming to see through her reasoning, and walked towards her with his own steaming mug in hand.

  “What is it that I’m supposed to do?” she asked suspiciously, drawing the blanket more tightly around her.

  He paused, startled by the question, and abruptly began to laugh. Callie was taken aback by the sound; it was so…carefree. So unexpected.

  “Callista,” he said, the friendly companion once more, “you make this sound as though we are punishing you. Do not misunderstand—you are doing us a favor, a fact that we fully recognize and appreciate. You will not be forced to do anything with which you are uncomfortable.”

  “I’m here, aren’t I?” Callie asked, feeling the urge to be obnoxious.

  The smile wavered. “Yes, you are. To answer your question, I thought that we would start with a brief history today. Why don’t you tell us a bit about yourself? It may help to give us some insight as to why you have this special talent.”

  “Hang on a second,” Callie said, holding up one hand. “First of all, how do you know my name?”

  For a moment, the man’s smile disappeared completely. But then his expression was smooth again, and he offered, “How about you begin with your side of the story, and then we’ll tell you ours?”

  “What do you mean, your side?” Callie asked. The man maintained his docile expression, apparently having ignored the question. He stood, waiting for her to continue. Callie sighed, and went to sit down again. She needed the support.

  Once she was sitting cross-legged on the couch, the blanket hanging from her shoulders, she looked up at the men and shrugged. “I don’t have much to tell, I guess. I’m a senior in high school. I live in California. Which, can I just point out, is so far away from Australia, I can’t even believe—“

  “Continue, please,” the dark-haired man, apparently the only one who ever spoke, said as he sat next to her on the couch. Callie shifted away from him, uncomfortable with his proximity.

  “Well, for one thing, I have a sister, who is probably wondering where I am,” she said.

  “I can assure you that won’t be a problem,” he said darkly.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “The errand which Alexander ran last night will prevent her worrying about you.”

  She looked hesitantly at the blond man, then back at the other one. “What did you do?” she asked, sounding timid even to her own ears.

  “Oh, nothing much,” the dark-haired man said. “Suffice it to say, your sister will be receiving a note today in your hand, explaining that you have had enough of being a caretaker, and are ready to strike out on your own.”

  “You did what?” Callie screeched. “But I thought you said I would get to go back!”

  “Yes, but you see, that might not be for some time. This way, you need not worry that she’ll be concerned about you.”

  “You don’t understand,” Callie said, feeling more upset than she had since she’d been there. “Maggie needs me. If she thinks I’ve given up on her—“

  “You will return one day and make it up to her. If you do as we ask,” he said pointedly.

  She drew a deep breath, and put her hands on her hips to steady herself. “And what about school?” she asked. “Did you leave them a note, too? It’s only April. Summer break doesn’t start for another month. Someone will notice.”

  “I’m sure your sister will explain it to them,” he said calmly. “And, as Alex tells me, you haven’t applied to any colleges. So we won’t have to worry about that.”

  “So that’s it? You’ve just erased me from my life, with…what? A note?”

  “Yes,” he said, his tone pensive. “Seems rather simple, doesn’t it? It’s lucky for us that you don’t have many friends.”

  She swallowed, refusing to let him see her flinch. “What else do you want to know?” she forced out, keeping her mind on getting out of there.

  “Have you ever been seriously ill?” the man asked. Callie was confused with the odd question. “Ever noticed anything odd about yourself? Physically, I mean.”

  “What?” Callie asked. “No. I mean, it’s none of your business. But…no.”

  “Callista,” he said. “This is important. Please, think. When was the last time you were sick?”

  Callie was disturbed by the questions. Nevertheless, to appease him, she tried to think backwards. She thought of recent years, how many days she might have taken off from school. But she never had taken a sick day from school. She wouldn’t even know how to. Maggie certainly wouldn’t be around to call the nurse, and it wasn’t like she could call in for herself. They wouldn’t have believed her. It had never occurred to her before, this dilemma, because she’d never had to deal with it. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I mean, I must have been sick before. Just…not recently, I guess.”

  “Have you ever had the chicken pox?” he asked. “Strep throat? Migraines?”

  “No,” Callie said. “My mom had me vaccinated when I was a baby. For chicken pox, anyways. And I guess I’ve never been ar
ound kids with strep throat. And…I don’t know. I don’t get sick easily.”

  “Easily?” he asked. “Or ever?”

  Callie realized how odd this must have seemed to him. She thought about it again, but couldn’t recall having ever been seriously sick. “I don’t know,” she said. “Why, what does it mean? What is this?”

  The dark-haired man looked across to the other man in the room, and Callie assumed that there was meaning behind this exchange. She was about to ask, but the dark-haired man cut in, “What about the meteor shower that fell over your town on the day you were born?”

  Callie shrugged, annoyed at the swift change of subject. “What about it?” she asked.

  “Do you ever find it a strange coincidence, both events occurring simultaneously?”

  “No, not really. Should I?”

  “Most humans would,” he reasoned.

  “Look, all I know about that shower is that a meteorite landed on the old courthouse and left a huge crater. They made it an historic landmark,” she said, exasperated with the cryptic speech. “Other than that, the only thing it has to do with me is my name. The shower was a result of some comet breaking apart, which sent meteors down over Mill Valley. My dad was an astronomy teacher at the high school. He thought it would be a good joke to begin my name with a C, since I guess all non-periodic comets are always named with the first letter being a C. Supposedly, they were going to name me after my grandma Mary, but then the comet hit, and here we are.”

  “Here we are,” the man said, his voice pensive. “And what about your parents? What happened after the accident?”

  Callie felt the last ounce of patience drain from her, and she frowned. “I don’t want to talk about that,” she said.

  “Your sister moved home from college, didn’t she?” he asked. “She became your legal guardian. But did anything else happen to you during that time?”

  “Stop,” Callie warned.

  “Any physical trauma? Any unexplained illness?”

  “What are you suggesting?” Callie demanded, furious.

  “Did you notice any strange growths at all? Particularly in the region of your back?” he persisted.

  “Stop!” Callie cried, jumping to her feet and turning her back on him in case the tears returned. For a long moment, the room was utterly silent.

  “Callista, I just want you to—“

  “Emeric,” the second man spoke, his voice breaking into the room for the first time that day. The word, a strange name, sounded as a warning, and Callie found that she was grateful. She maintained her pose for a while longer, waiting until she was sure that she had a grip on her emotions. Her hands, clenched into involuntary fists, loosened.

  She turned, crossing her arms, facing the dark-haired man with a bravery which she didn’t really feel.

  “Look,” she said. “I’ll help you in any way I can, so long as you bring me back to my sister. But I won’t….I won’t tell you about that. So don’t ask me again.”

  The dark-haired man, Emeric, stared at her for a few moments, and Callie thought that she detected frustration in his eyes. But he nodded then, and the tension disappeared.

  “Alright,” he said, standing up to face her. “Alright, that’s enough for now.”

  Callie nodded, looking down and shuffling her feet, the familiar pain in her chest beginning to subside.

  “So now what?” she asked the floorboards.

  “Now,” Emeric said, “I think it’s time we begin your training.”

  Chapter Four

  Lesson

  “Alex, if you will,” Emeric said.

  The blond man, Alex, strode swiftly across the room. He walked directly at Callie, pinning her with a steady stare. She was tempted to take a step backwards, away from his intimidating figure, but forced herself to hold her ground.

  Suddenly, he reached forwards with a swiftness that stole her breath, grabbing her arms with a threat on his face. She put her hands up to push him away, and in that instant, she felt herself disappear again.

  She opened her eyes. No longer did she stand in the room she had been in a moment ago.

  Now, she was standing on a smooth, grey surface, looking out into the forest from—what? Where was she, exactly? She stepped forwards, looking at the silver arch which fed out into the rainforest, and realized that she was looking out from the mouth of a cave. It was carved from the same smooth stone which ran below her feet, and, as she looked out over these rocks, she realized that it was settled into a plateau several stories above the forest floor.

  “Wow,” she breathed, taking in the view. For miles, the rainforest protruded outwards. A collage of spindling tree trunks resembling knotted cords hung down from the sky, their branches rubbing against the clouds above her head. Pale green leaves adorned their branches, like ornaments perched upon withered bark. Everything she could see was covered with some form of life, vibrant with it. Even the sky seemed to move as flocks of birds soared across it, out to an unseen destination.

  A crash sounded. Callie turned to her left to see where it was coming from, and realized there was another opening. She crossed the small cave and stopped in its other mouth, gazing outwards. She caught her breath at the beauty of the waterfall that greeted her. Far above her, the waterfall crested in a stony divot, dropping the legions of water down for miles until, just below, they splashed against a small, perfectly round pond. She saw that the pond then trickled off into a river, lazily flowing through the forest, disappearing into the trees.

  “It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

  “Callista?”

  Callie was startled, and looked around inside the cave. Emeric’s voice seemed to echo between the stones. “Callista, can you hear me?”

  “Where are you?” she asked, walking back into the cave. She looked around the sunny space, but all she could see were the smooth walls of rock.

  “You are in a memory right now,” he replied, his bodiless voice drifting towards her. Callie looked back over her shoulder, wondering if he was outside. She walked out onto the rocky ledge just outside of the second mouth, looking for him.

  She halted, startled to find that Alex, not Emeric, was seated on the ledge, staring out over the fountains. She knelt down beside him, looking at the side of his face. He didn’t seem to sense her presence. She waved a hand in front of his face, feeling foolish, unsure why he didn’t notice her.

  “Why can’t he see me?” she asked, hoping that Emeric could hear her.

  He did. “In a memory, the characters you meet are unable to experience your presence. Callista, can you find your way out of this memory?” he called.

  Callie looked around, unsure what she was supposed to find. She stood again, and walked back into the cave. But all she saw, of course, were the two cave mouths. She couldn’t exit through either of them; they both stood atop significant drops.

  “No,” she called back. “It just looks like real life. I don’t…I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Close your eyes,” Emeric instructed.

  She did. She heard the cries of birds overhead, and felt a moist breeze against her cheek. In this quiet space, it was easy to forget where she was. “Clear your mind,” he said. She tipped her head back, experiencing the warmth of the sunrays pouring into the cave. “Try to distance yourself from where you are right now.”

  She frowned. “I can’t,” she replied. She opened her eyes then and looked around, but found herself in the same spot she’d been in before. “I don’t understand.”

  “Try,” he encouraged.

  “I can’t,” she huffed, frustrated. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  She heard him sigh, and then, all at once, the world tilted off of its axis. She let out a cry of shock and felt a wave of nausea roll over her as, before she could blink, she was thrust back into the present.

  She stumbled forward, reaching out blindly to catch her balance. But then she opened her eyes, and saw that she was standing on a wooden floor again. Sh
e blinked, and looked up. The two men stood before her once more, and now both were able to see her. Alex stood a small distance away.

  “What was that?” she asked.

  “You projected yourself into Alexander’s mind,” Emeric replied. “Well, rather, Alex allowed you to enter his mind.”

  “But…how?” Callie asked.

  “I discovered yesterday that fear triggers your ability to Perceive,” Emeric explained. Callie remembered, as he spoke, that she had seen him murdering the girl yesterday only when he was about to attack her. “I told Alexander to focus on a vivid memory, and then to approach you in what you might consider a violent manner. In this way, you were able to enter his memory.”

  “Great, thanks,” she bit off sarcastically.

  “It was a worthwhile experiment,” Emeric said, offering no apologies. Callie shook her head in disbelief, understanding that, as a lab rat, she wouldn’t be receiving any four-star treatment. No one cared about stepping on the lab rat’s tail.

  “Why couldn’t he see me? And why could I hear you?” she asked.

  “When you are Perceiving, it is as though you are undergoing hypnosis,” Emeric explained. “You are using a deep part of your subconscious, but you are still fully aware of the world in which your conscious mind is living. You are able to hear what is happening in the present world, while simultaneously experiencing the memory with all of your senses. And, as I explained, no one in the memory is able to see or feel or even hear you. You are a bystander, a witness, and that is all. You cannot change the events of the memory; you are virtually powerless. But in equal measure, the memory cannot harm you. You might stand in a pit of fire and feel a burn, but your skin will be unscathed. It is nothing but an illusion, do you understand?” he asked.

  “Not remotely,” Callie retorted. “But yeah, I get the idea.”

  “Callista, you must learn to control this ability,” Emeric said. “Soon you will be able to enter whichever memory you choose without provocation.”