Theron couldn’t blame her for sneaking out. As her shadow, he knew exactly what her days were like. It would drive him insane, living the way she did, with every moment planned and controlled. And he’d never tell her, but when she did things like this he couldn’t help smiling, on the inside. He liked that fire behind her eyes. Even if it made his job more difficult.
Well. He wasn’t going to have that worry for much longer. Mouth turning down at the edges, he turned, setting down the rake after pushing the old bedding over to the side.
“What is bothering you?” Her voice pushed against him again, as if she knew how horrible a thing it was, that Hilma had told him. But she didn’t, and it sat unspoken and frightening between them. He refused to burden her until he could confirm it. All he had was rumor. A rumor so incredible that he couldn’t believe it without proof, but so terrifying he couldn’t just ignore it.
Unable to hold her gaze, he looked away.
She frowned, stepping closer and he didn’t want to examine why he was stepping back, his shoulders bumping up against the stable door. She tipped her head back to see him better. “This is my fault, isn’t it?”
He laughed quietly, without humor. They weren’t children anymore. He couldn’t let his guard down around her as he had when he’d first been appointed – little more than a child himself. How long had it been since they had really talked? Frowning a little, he looked into eyes he’d known for six years. Eyes that were quick and sometimes mischievous, but knowing now, too. They weren’t what he remembered, from the first day they’d met. Not at all.
And he didn’t know when it happened – when he’d gone from not just wanting to protect her, but wanting her. He couldn’t have her.
So, he had begun to build a wall between them. He knew she had recognized the width and breadth and solidity of it. It brought a sadness to her eyes that hadn’t been there before, but she had never spoken of it. Each of them pretended that nothing had changed.
But thinking back over the past few days, she had been trying to talk to him. To see how he was doing. To see if he was going to be okay. Looking into those pained green eyes, it really hit him then.
She was going to be married. He would no longer greet her in the morning after training. No longer look on as she met with her tutors, dignitaries and took care of her other duties. When she went to the gardens to read, or walk, or simply be. It would be someone else who took her there.
The stark knowledge that his time with the Emerald Lady was so short, felt a lot like someone had kicked him in the stomach.
The Emperor’s guard would take over her care and Theron would move on. Likely to work with the Imperial Guard. Kino had done that very thing when he’d retired as Mamoru, after all. Though moving into a new life, a new profession, might not be so easy for the younger man. Theron wasn’t blind. He knew there were those who resented him for being given the title of Mamoru. “Just because,” some said, he’d been fortunate enough to fall under the Isao’s care.
All of these thoughts passed in the space of a few breaths, the woman in front of him watching and waiting patiently, accustomed to his silence. But this quiet had so much more weight, and he struggled to breath around the ache in his chest. He resisted the urge to place his palm against her cheek, to see if it felt as soft as it looked. He wanted to brush away the hair that had fallen out of her comb to hang across her face. Standing so close to her, he could smell the light blended scent of gardenia and rose. Her favorite. It made him want to lean in close, to see if closer, the scent was stronger.
But he couldn’t do any of those things.
So, exhaling with a small smile, he raised a hand and placed it at her elbow, almost, but not quite, touching her. “My lady. You should be in your chambers at this hour.”
˜ ˜ ˜
Movement in the shadows near the stable drew the guard’s eye. “Hey, Shen. Isn’t that the Mamoru?”
“Mm?” The guard stationed next to him turned his head. The night was cool and there weren’t many stars in the sky. The path from the stables was darker than he was accustomed to. Looking over, Shen could barely make out two forms moving in the murky dark. He exhaled irritably, almost rolling his eyes. “I dunno, Mako.”
“Yeah, it is. Who’s with him? It looks like a woman. Is that the lady?”
Squinting into the dark, the grizzled guard shook his head. He could barely make out there were people there, let alone who it was. “Why does it matter, Mako? If it is, it’s his job, his business. He can’t protect her if he’s not with her.” His voice reflected his annoyance along with his disinterest. “The man’s above us. We’re just here to guard this door. Just this door. Don’t make trouble, I want to go home to my wife on time tonight.”
Defensively, the younger man said, “Yeah, well. He’s supposed to have returned her to her rooms. What are they doing out there at this hour?”
“Who knows? Maybe she had business out of the palace that kept them out this late. Besides, you don’t even know for sure that’s them.”
“Pheh. It’s him. It’s them. I know it.”
“It’s pitch out there! You can’t be sure.”
Mako snorted a protest. “Sure I can. Seen them often enough. I don’t have to see his face to know that’s the Mamoru. I know how he moves.”
There was a pause. “You know how he moves?”
“Well, I mean. I seen him in the training yards during practice plenty,” the young guard’s words trailed off, as he remembered clearly seeing Theron paired off with Master Isao. Watching the two fight had been intimidating. It was clear they were easily a step above the other guardsmen there. At the thought, the embarrassing envy he had felt watching the two came rushing back, along with some feeling between wanting to train with the guy and wanting to prove he didn’t need to. The young guard frowned, catching a smirk on the older man’s face. Crossing his arms, Mako said stubbornly, “I just recognize him, that’s all.”
“Mm. He’s your hero, then, eh?”
Scowling, Mako snapped a sullen, “Shut up,” and ignoring the older man’s good-natured chuckle, let the matter drop. When he glanced over towards the stables again, the two figures were gone.
˜ ˜ ˜
Theron reined in his horse as he approached the edge of the Kikino Woods. Looking up at the sky again, he made a quick check of the hour. The moon above him and what stars he could still see, said it was well past when respectable folk found their beds. There were clouds tonight, brushing the face of the moon every so often, darkening this rarely traveled road. Rough gravel made unsteady footing even worse by the dim light. He ignored the voice inside him that judged him a fool. The Emperor’s decree said traveling at this time of night was forbidden. Even without that deterrent, those that disobeyed rarely made it to their destinations.
Regardless of the risk, Theron was not concerned he’d be found out. If he did not wish to be seen, he simply wasn’t. That wasn’t to say he did not feel the twist of guilt, nor the whisper of doubt that he wasn’t doing the right thing.
Thinking over the past day and the consequence of doing nothing with the half-learned truth, he closed that feeling off. His duty was to protect Lynea.
He was doing the right thing.
The trees loomed to either side of horse and rider as they left the uncertain moonlight for a grimly shadowed trail. The Protector refused to think of it as a foretelling of the path he was choosing.
Uneasy footfalls crunched on dead leaves and moss that lay on the flattened earth, heavy with brush and barely visible in the light of the waning moon. The smell of dirt and moss was nearly stifling, the air was so thick with it. He had heard that some of the plants that bloomed in Kikino were dangerous. That they could make you see things that weren’t there, or fall into a dead sleep to fall prey to night predators. He was thankful for the cloth he’d tied across his face.
The path grew narrow here, so he dismounted. Hopefully, it wasn’t much further. Listening to the hesitant step of
hooves next to him, guilt flashed briefly. His horse should have been in the stable, dreaming of a nice run in a grassy field right now, not stepping nearly blind through a cursed forest. “Sorry, Ash.” He reached up with a soothing hand to his horse’s neck. The stallion was still hot from the ride there, but cooling quickly.
He blinked, catching once again the flickering yellow-green pinpoints of light that teased at the edge of his vision. He remembered hearing the kitchen servants chattering about it once, saying those flashes were restless souls of the dead. He watched them for a moment, blinking and flickering in and out of existence. The servants also said that mad-woman Kitsune kept them trapped here in the forest. In the silence surrounding him, the thought was unnerving. Even if the stories were true, the dead could not truly affect this world. Regardless, he was here for a purpose. He wouldn’t be swayed by spooky stories.
He must be nearly there. The path should be opening up to a clearing soon. That was when he should really be on his guard. He would be in the witch’s territory then. Kitsune was said to be eerie, mysterious, knowledgeable, but insane. How all of that could be one person, he didn’t know. If he were honest with himself, Theron wasn’t sure why he was coming to see her if he couldn’t trust what she said. He shook his head.
It must be a sign of how desperate he really was.
A breeze, sweet with fresh air, lifted the cloth briefly from his face. Gratefully he tugged the mask down, inhaling deeply as he and Ash stepped off of the ugly little path into a moonlit clearing.
He took in the scene before them. It was serene. Peaceful. And it made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
Unconsciously, Theron held the reins slightly behind him, as if by doing so he could protect his horse from any danger they might be facing. He could feel the warm snort of breath stirring his hair.
The cottage standing towards the back of the clearing was small. Thatched roof, a patio running along the front. Soft moonlight lit the lawn it faced and the rough stone wall of the water well that sat off to one side. The sweet aroma of the flowers surrounding the porch wafted on the night air, flowers of every type. Roses, tulips, daffodils, their colors muted in the moonlight. It was then Theron realized what had set him on edge.
The blooms were open, every one of them. But these types only opened during the day. He knew better than most, from days spent trying not to doze off while Lynea sat reading in the royal garden. How could he forget desperate days when he’d counted each type of bloom just to stay awake? He knew from overhearing the gardeners talking that there were varieties that awoke at night, but not these.
It shouldn’t have frightened him, they were only flowers. They were beautiful. He stood there trying to sort out how this could possibly be and trying to ignore his heartbeat quickening in his chest. Witchcraft – a voice was whispering in the back of his mind, when the creak of wood and metal reached his ears. A child pushed open the small wooden gate at the side of the house.
Seeming oblivious to the presence of the Protector and his horse, she skipped toward them, directly in their path. Ash started, yanking on the leather straps Theron had wrapped around his hand. Unconsciously, the hunter reached over, giving a soothing stroke to the stallion’s head.
The little girl jumped when she reached them, her mouth opening comically in her surprise. “Oh!” Her eyes were huge. He couldn’t tell the color in the washed out hues of the moonlit yard, but her hair was very dark, hanging long and nearly down to her waist. A button nose and the soft roundness of her face told him she couldn’t be more than five years old. She was the type of child women swoon over, cooing over her cuteness and pinching her cheeks. After a momentary blank stare at his “sudden” appearance, the girl grinned. “Ah, it’s you, Mamoru! Mother said you were coming.”
He was still trying to come to grips with her being here, so late at night (running around and awake at near midnight) as she made this alarming statement, so it took a moment for it to penetrate. Okay. Apparently this child that he’d never seen before not only recognized him, but knew he was coming. She was no threat, but the information she’d so cheerfully relayed that he was not only welcome (at this hour?) but expected, put him on edge. “Mother? Your mother said I’d be coming?”
She didn’t appear to notice his mood. She giggled. “Of course, silly.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “It made grandmother happy. She’s been wanting to meet you.”
And after proclaiming this second unexpected and alarming thing, she looked up to do something completely normal for a child her age. Her attention shifted to Ash, standing patiently behind him. “Pretty, pretty horse!” She clasped her hands in front of her, leaning forward and up on her toes, trying to peer around him. “Can I pet him?” She was dancing in her excitement, her hair bouncing as she waited for permission. Raising his eyebrows, Theron turned to look at his horse. After his initial skittishness, Ash didn’t seem at all bothered by the mysterious child, strange garden, or surreal cottage.
Hm. Why was Theron unable to shake his unease, actually, he wanted nothing more than to turn and leave this place. But he was here for a reason and it wasn’t much of a guess to think it wouldn’t help his cause to deny the child. Grudgingly, he admitted she was too adorable to resist. So, heaving a breath to scatter those thoughts, Theron nodded. He pulled lightly on the reins in his hand, giving a click of his tongue. The black horse stepped forward, lowering his head as if he’d understood her question. Eyes wide with delight, she reached up and laid her small hand on his neck. “Oooh. I wish I had a horse like this.” Gently, she stroked Ash’s mane as the stallion nudged at her hair, saying hello.
Several moments later she gusted a sigh, a sweet little smile still playing around her lips. Lowering her arm to her side, with her other hand she took hold of Theron’s, tugging. Her little fingers were warm in his. “Come, Mamoru. We have to hurry now, you’ve made us late. Grandmother is waiting.” How was letting her do what she’d asked make it his fault they were “late”? Theron smiled at the patently false statement, eyes crinkling at the edges. Obviously, witch’s children weren’t much different than other children.
They moved quickly across the small field of grass, heading directly for the cottage. The prospect of being separated from Ash in this odd and completely unsettling place didn’t sit well with him. His feet slowed as he scanned the cottage more closely for a place he could leave his horse and still keep him in view. It looked unlikely. There was only the front door and a small window at the front of the house. The child seemed to know what he was thinking. “Don’t worry. It’s okay, you can tie your horsey to the porch. I’ll watch him. He’ll be safe here.” A child’s reassurance did nothing to change his opinion, but as he scanned the black face of the surrounding forest he could detect no movement. Other than the unnatural feel of the cottage and the area immediately surrounding it, there was no sense of danger. He would have to trust he would hear or have some other warning of an enemy’s approach. Since he obviously couldn’t bring Ash into the tiny building, he nodded.
The soles of his shoes were silent as he stepped onto the wooden porch. It appeared completely ordinary. Wood floorboards, a railing made from rough-hewn branches. Patient where she hadn’t been before, the little girl leaned back against the railing and watched his assessing gaze sweep the patio. His face felt warm under the child’s weirdly knowing gaze. A moment later, he thought he saw her roll her eyes, letting out an exaggerated breath. She turned away then, turning and staring adoringly at Ash. Obviously, the girl’s patience was wearing thin. Mouth twisting ruefully, he turned, his hand at the door frame. The door was open, he could see no one inside.
Suddenly, the child’s hands were pushing at his back. “Well, hurry up and go in. You’re taking too long!”
He couldn’t help bristling at that. He’d never spoken to his elders like that as a child. He turned back, telling her, “Do not push me, little one. You must always respect your elders. I don’t think your grandmother would
want you to shame your house?” He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but her reaction was gratifyingly immediate. She stepped back quickly, her eyes darting from side to side, her mouth pursing and then opening in surprise. She blinked a few times, seeming to be trying to process what he’d said.
“Sorry, Mamoru. I don’t see many people, please forgive me.” It was startlingly mature for her age and it was Theron’s turn to blink. For a moment, he had the odd sensation that the person behind the eyes of the child in front of him was much, much older. Older perhaps, than even himself. Chilled, he took a step back, tensing.
She’s just a child.
Ash shifted then, his hooves scuffing in the dirt at the edge of the patio, drawing the girl’s attention. As quickly as that, the chill left the air, and yes. She was just a child again.
Darting forward, she plucked an apple from a bowl sitting on a table just inside and next to the door. Pivoting, she ran back out and reached over the railing, holding it out to the horse. With a snort Ash tried to take it from her, but she held on, letting him take a bite from it instead.
Well. Looking at the two of them, the Protector smiled. The past day had Theron seeing shadows where there were none. It seemed his horse would be fine. Shaking away the odd mood, Theron walked into the room fronting the porch.
It was a small room. Empty of people, but filled with a few pieces of furniture. The table near the door, with its bowl of fruit and a vase with flowers. A round woven rug with a sitting chair. A scattering of comfortable looking chairs with the table. A rocking chair.
Splinter (Trapped Souls Book 1) Page 5