He trailed off as his eyes met Norabel’s. She felt her face flush as she waited for him to continue.
“The guys wanted me to thank you for saving their lives. They’ve been calling you their Albatross.”
She stared down at the pattern of her dress, her heart thundering in her throat.
“You-you didn’t tell them that I’m,” she said, flustered, “That I’m part of…”
“No. I didn’t tell them.”
Norabel furrowed her brow in discomfort. “I feel like I betrayed you all. Keeping secrets from you when all you were doing was trying to be my friend.”
She nearly gasped when she felt a gentle hand on her chin. She allowed her face to be tilted upwards as Hunter looked down on her.
“You didn’t betray us when you plunged into that Black Smoke. You could have just left us, but you didn’t.” He took his hand away, but he left behind a fast beating heart. “So, if you don’t mind keeping my friendship, I’d like to keep yours.”
She nodded mutely, and as he bid her a goodbye, Norabel found she only had the energy to give a weak wave of her hand before he disappeared into the crowd.
“I still can’t believe you risked your life to save a room full of pox,” Archer commented, disgusted.
She hardly registered his words as she was still staring at the spot Hunter had been a few moments ago. She knew that things wouldn’t go back to normal between them; she could see that Hunter was still nursing some hurt feelings, but what he had said gave her hope.
“They weren’t the pox,” Logan defended, “They were her friends. We won’t get far in this revolution if we don’t see the potential for friendship in unlikely sources.”
Norabel spun around to face him, and he gave her a smile. She was glad that at least someone understood her.
“Speaking of unlikely sources!” Archer exclaimed, starting to walk forward on the road. “Did you guys see that street vendor with the trout with two heads?”
“Archer, what does that have to do with unlikely sources?” Mason asked. He was slowly walking next to Norabel, just an accidental arm-brush away.
“Well, it was an unlikely change in conversation,” Norabel pointed out.
“Thank you!” Archer said, walking backwards so he could face them. “See, she understands where I’m coming from.”
“Unlikely,” Logan mumbled in jest.
Archer shoved him in the arm. “So, did you guys see it?” he asked again.
“Yeah,” Logan responded dryly, “I make a point of keeping track of all fish-head related news in this village.”
“How do you think my brother became so knowledgeable?” Mason joked.
“I only mentioned it cause I’m the one that caught it,” Archer announced proudly.
“Oh!” Logan cut in. “So what you’re saying is, you don’t care if we saw it or not, you just wanted to gloat!”
Archer smiled, saying, “Yeah, now you’re getting it!”
Norabel laughed softly and looked up at her friends. The sun shone behind their heads and cast long shadows in front of them. In the distance, brewing among the rocky cliffs of Breccan, were the clouds of an incoming summer thunderstorm. Raising her fingers above her eyes, she waved to the sky and smiled as she wondered what they might do with their few hours in the sun before the turmoil of the storm forced them back into darkness once more.
Sneak Peak of Book Two
Lost in Liadrel
*
Guardian Amias reached out for the bowl of fruit on the large, empty wooden table and grasped an apple in one hand. As he was going to take a bite, the door to his personal eating chambers opened. He glanced at the man in the doorway and then promptly bit into the crisp skin of the fruit.
“I’ve been hearing good reports from Breccan,” he commented, setting the apple down to search for something else to eat. “You’ve turned Auberon into a perfect little hero and the Harbingers into the beasts they’ve been claiming to be.” He popped a grape into his mouth and turned to where Brin stood with his hands clasped behind his back, a severe expression set on his face. “I don’t know about you, Brin, but I’d call that good work. Don’t look so grave.”
“I look grave whenever there is a problem to be dealt with, sir.”
Amias was about to eat another grape, but he let it fall to the table, rolling until it fell on the floor by his feet. “You know that’s not my favorite thing to hear about.” He paused before asking, “What is it that went wrong?”
Brin took a step towards his table. “A group of our youngest were supposed to be sacrificed in order to paint the Harbinger in an even more brutal light, but… Something went wrong. A girl had been locked up with them. She was able to slip out and somehow save them all.”
“And do the men suspect who’s behind it?” Amias asked, his face darkening.
“They’re smart, sir. They have to know. Thankfully they’re also smart enough to know not to say anything. I can’t say it’ll last forever. But it’s the girl that worries me more.”
“So deal with her then,” Amias advised. “You know I will not stand for loose ends.”
Brin shook his head. “It’s not that easy. I can’t just kill her. A lot of the officers have grown…attached to her. It might set them over the edge if we have her killed.”
“So make it look like an accident,” Amias said, shaking his head as though the solution was so simple he shouldn’t have needed to be told.
Brin closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. “I’m afraid that’s not all. The way she saved them,” he shook his head, “it was miraculous. No one knows how she did it without dying. And, with the scorch marks on the stone walls…”
“Scorch marks?” Amias asked, his curiosity piqued.
“When she blasted the doors open,” he clarified. “The mark it left on the stone was…peculiar.”
“How so?”
Brin cleared his throat. “Well…they look exactly like a set of wings.”
“Wings?” Amias repeated.
“The guys have started calling her The Albatross.”
Amias chuckled, finding amusement in the whole situation. “That’s a child’s myth, Brin.”
“It’s also a dangerous symbol that you took great pains to outlaw,” he reminded him.
Amias smiled and asked, “What’s this albatross’s real name?”
“It’s Norabel.”
“Well,” Amias said, looking down to the fallen grape by his feet and crushing it with his boot. “Send a rider to Lorcan and inform him that this unexpected hero Norabel is to be recognized for her act of bravery.”
“Hero?” Brin asked in surprise.
“There’s more than one way to deal with a mistake, Brin. If you can’t kill the girl, then make her one of us. The rebels have their face, so she shall be ours. The gentle, altruistic face of the Pax. Because as long as all the heroes are on our side, the Harbingers can’t do a wretched thing.”
“What exactly do you want Lorcan to do?”
Amias returned to the bowl of fruit and shoved it aside to make way for a dessert tray that had been placed next to it. “Liadrel,” he announced, his hand hovering over the different treats in careful deliberation. “A plentiful playground of delights, soon to have its doors opened in grand ceremony. What kind of a guardian would I be if I didn’t invite our heroes to the party?”
“I shall tell Lorcan to inform her sir,” Brin said with a curt bow.
“Not just her, the whole of Breccan!” Amias exclaimed with a proud huff. “Give the rest of them something to look up to like a shining ray of light. If Lorcan lets all of Breccan know what she’s done, that she’s going to Liadrel because of it, they’ll be falling over themselves to try and keep our officers from stubbing their toes if they think they might get the same reward.”
“You are right sir,” Brin relented with a nod.
“Then why does it sound like you think I’m wrong?” Amias asked. He finally chose a dessert from the tra
y and set it apart from the others.
“I’ve looked into this girl’s history. And I’m…I’m just not sure she’ll be the compliant, shining image you want her to be. You were responsible for burning down her home when she was very young.”
“Was I? How unfortunate,” he remarked with a carefree smile.
“If you put her in the public eye, she might prove to be trouble.”
Amias picked up his dessert and broke it in two. He carefully ate one half, taking his time to taste the flavors, and then held the other half up towards Brin.
“Do you know what this is?” he asked.
“Some sort of cake, sir,” Brin replied, unsure of why he was being asked this.
“No Brin,” he shook his head. “It’s not just some sort of cake. This is cold cream strawberry velvet cake infused with the nectar of the Cliaura plant. It has never been tasted outside the borders of Cashel.”
“Your point sir?”
“The point is very simple.” He popped the rest of the cake in his mouth and quickly gulped it down. “You can make even the most righteous person do anything you want with the right leverage. To put it another way,” he said, licking the cream off his fingers, “Liadrel is a vast place filled with wonders; it would be very easy to lose oneself inside.”
Chasing Shadows (Saving Galerance, Book 1) Page 29