House of Guardians

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House of Guardians Page 41

by Beatrice Sand


  I have never seen him dressed entirely in black, and like a modern warrior, he appears from the thick veil of the fog. His blonde mane—that word seems to fit him better now that I know who he is—is flowing in every direction. The only thing missing is a bow over his shoulder. It wouldn’t even surprise me if he actually owned one.

  As though I’ve called him with my mind, he suddenly stands beside me. My blood rushes. Words come to my mind, but when I open my mouth, nothing comes out.

  Sam turns his body toward the water and releases a sharp breath. “I had no choice.”

  I wipe away a tear with my sleeve. His voice sounds as broken as mine, and I realize that at this point, it wouldn’t take much for me to break down. I have turned into a miserable and sad human being.

  “How did you find me?” I want to know. “A vision?”

  His mouth curves to one side. “I seem to get them about you all the time now. I can almost describe what you’ve done or what you will do any second of the day.”

  In spite of it all, I smile. “So you’ve seen me staring at empty moving boxes?”

  “Yes,” he whispers.

  “I can’t seem to get them packed.”

  “You will.”

  “You’ve seen that too?”

  “Yeah.”

  I try to meet his gaze. “So there is no point in me resisting?”

  Finally, he looks straight at me. “You know better than to stay here, Laurel. You would be an easy prey for him.”

  He puts his elbows on the railing, folding his hands. He gazes to the other side—upwards. I don’t have to follow his glance to know that he is looking at Mount Olympus.

  “I know a place not far from here. The old fisherman’s cabin at the bay. It doesn’t look like much, but no one will find us there. It will be the last time we can be together. If you want,” he adds softly.

  “Does it even matter?” I clear my throat because my voice is sounding hoarse. “How long will you remember us? Three hours, five maybe?”

  He remains silent for a while. “I need something to hold onto for as long as possible. I don’t want yesterday to be my last memory of us.”

  Us. How can such a small word cause such intense pain? “What would happen if I went?”

  He gets up and turns toward me. His hand reaches my face, and his thumb slides over my cheek, following the trail of my tear. “I guess whatever you want to happen,” he whispers.

  I swallow. I can finally get him to do the one thing he has been resisting for so long. And now… Can I live with that memory? Can I live with knowing that an even deeper connection between us at the end will only mean something to him for a few hours? Sam will have forgotten me by tomorrow, and I’ll be left with another memory.

  “I don’t know. I…” I raise my head and look at his beautiful face. My protector. Until today. “I can’t, Sam. I’m sorry, I can’t anymore.” I run off the jetty.

  “Laurel!” he calls after me. “Don’t let it end like this.”

  I hear the despair in his voice, I feel it in my own body as well and with my last bit of willpower, I run farther away from him. I have to get him out of my system, not let him get any closer! If I have to spend the rest of my life without him, I’d better get used to it as soon as possible.

  The cardboard boxes and crates taunt me mercilessly, and I furiously jerk open a drawer. If Sam had seen me pack a box, I will give him his bloody way. I hope he sees this and that he is suffering as much as I am.

  I throw the underwear in the box. If he wants me to move in with his enemy that desperately, then I will! Who am I, after all, an insignificant mortal, a commoner, to go against the will of the most intelligent demigod?

  You are not an insignificant mortal. You are the chosen one.

  When I am done filling the first box, I sink down onto my bed. My head falls into my hands and I start crying like I’ve never cried before. “I miss you, Sam,” I whisper in the hopes that he might hear me in his visions.

  “What time is Olivia coming to get you tomorrow?” Mia asks in a friendly way while we have diner a little later.

  “Oh, sometime in the late morning,” I answer.

  Mia’s excellent mood is really obvious and that probably has to do with the fact that she now has a daughter and a stepdaughter off to college. I played my role well, and mentally I give myself a pat on the back. Mia and Martin are so pleased with my college plans that neither of them is suspicious about my rash decision. If only they knew that I would be moving into a dorm filled with uncultivated, raw Titans… Even as a fairy tale it wouldn’t stand a chance.

  “Are you sure you don’t want us to drop you off? This place will survive one day without us.”

  “Yes, Dad. It’s really not necessary, and Olivia insists taking me. After all, I’m moving in with distant relatives of hers, and I would like her to be there.”

  “Well, we’ll visit you once you’ve settled down.”

  I smile and nod. “I would like that.” Because I am not coming back here, I add in my mind.

  After the farewell dinner, I go back to my bedroom and sit down between the cheerless boxes on the carpet. I’ve never felt more forlorn than I have right now, and I would give anything—I would even move into the Titan’s house without another complaint—if I could spend only five minutes with Sam. One more time having his intense gaze on me, the feel of it, and knowing I still mean the world to him, but I realize that I goofed up my last chance to be with him.

  I rise abruptly.

  Sam said that he could follow my every move, which means that he already knows I’m planning on going to the fisherman’s cabin. In fact, he’ll probably already be there because he knew before I did.

  I dress against the cold with various layers of wool and cotton because I can’t go downstairs to get my winter coat. I wrap an additional thick scarf around my neck and leave my bedroom through the balcony.

  I step over the railing and drop myself onto the grass. It’s a hard landing, but I am unscathed. I start running.

  I’ve never been to the old cabin, but I do know its location in the national park. I had referred guests there often enough. The hotel is adjacent to one of the entrances to the park where the coastal hikes start, and the cabin is located in a small bay.

  Within a few minutes, I have reached the entrance, where I stop in bewilderment when I see the deserted parking lot. I had the silent hope of finding a battered jeep here. I still risk it and ignore the signs warning visitors about the steep cliffs.

  The first part is flat and easily passable, but after a couple of minutes of running, the logging road becomes increasingly narrow until it is nothing more than a wet trail overgrown with ferns, mushrooms, and thick mosses. It’s awfully dark, and the immense pine trees extend above me like cathedral spires. Naturally, I start running even faster. Once I had skimmed through a flyer about the protected coastal area, and I am now in the heart of the ancient rain forest where, back in the day, only loggers, fishermen, and miners dared to go.

  After running and stumbling for a while, I mostly leave the thick forest behind me and come onto a rocky coast. The wind is now howling against me, and I have to work to even remain standing.

  With my hands on my knees I try to catch my breath again.

  Beneath me there is a horseshoe-shaped bay with a miniscule pebble beach. A rocky point studded with trees sticks out of the water like a fortress. I spot something that could pass for a fisherman’s cabin. Fear strikes my heart. Shouldn’t Sam be here already if he knew that I was on my way?

  Regardless, I can’t possibly turn around. I have to know for sure if he is waiting for me inside, or I’ll keep wondering forever—wondering if it could have gone differently, if I could have influenced the outcome somehow. All of a sudden, telling him that I love him—oh God, I’ve never said that I loved him—has become my missio
n in life. Hearing Sam say what he feels for me one last time is the only thing that matters. Feeling his arms wrapped around me one more time is everything I desire out of life.

  I suck the air into my lungs and start the treacherous descent. It takes a lot of effort for me not to look down while making my way to the cabin. While I cautiously clamber down the sharp, slippery cliffs, I tear open the skin on my hands. For the hardest parts I lower myself onto my butt and continue moving forward on hands and feet. For a moment I get angry when I think of Sam choosing this spot for our last get-together. But then I realize that it was never his intention for me to crawl around here in the dark. He had wanted to take me in the afternoon, and of course he would have carried me and then he probably would have walked down the cliffs with the confidence of a mountain goat. I briefly smile when that image crosses my mind.

  In one piece, I finally land on the beach and continue running. I wade through the knee-deep water and climb up the islet. I zigzag through the trees until I am standing in front of the dilapidated wooden cabin. My heart starts pumping like crazy when I yank open the door. “Sam,” I gasp.

  It’s empty.

  Wet and cold I sink onto the frame of an old bed with broken metal thread, and I realize that this is it. I release a sigh and curse. Curse myself that I passed up on my last chance with Sam.

  Hollow-eyed, I stare at a tangle of rope. So this is where it ends. In a lonely cabin on a deathly cold November night.

  When I am done with shedding my tears I get up. I have the rest of my life to shed them. I have to get out of here if I don’t want to freeze my butt off.

  I leave the cabin and walk toward the edge of the islet. The moon peeps out for a moment, and I see the spectacular, rough coastal line with high conifers and rising cliffs. Beneath me the water sloshes against the cliffs. I notice that I am really close to the edge, and my stomach drops. I think about the moment I told Sam that I would be better off if I were dead, and I can’t help but wonder if I still feel the same. I might be free from Adrian by tomorrow afternoon, but at the same time I will have to relinquish Sam. Would Sam get a vision if I were to fall now? If I were in distress, like that night when Julien attacked me?

  I take a small step forward and I peer down over the edge. “No,” I say out loud. This is not the way to get him here. And I certainly don’t want to die.

  I quickly step back and feel something slippery beneath my sole. I lose my balance and fall—and tumble straight down from the slippery rock.

  Wildly I grasp around, but there is not even a bush to grab onto. I hear my own useless scream reverberate. I always thought that your life would flash before your eyes in your last seconds, but my last thought is that I’m going to smash myself to pieces against the rocky bottom.

  I am lying down on the broken springs of the bed, trembling and chattering my teeth. Sam is standing over me, dripping wet. He holds me up and takes off my soaking wet sweater.

  “Talk to me!” he demands.

  “I a-am c-cold.”

  “You were in the icy water for a while.”

  “Y-you s-still k-know w-who I a-am?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I know. I’ll always know.”

  Clumsily, I fumble at the buttons of my blouse. I understand I have to get out of these sopping wet clothes as soon as possible. Now is not the time to be prudish.

  Sam pushes my hands aside and rips the wet fabric off my body. The buttons fly everywhere. I am wearing several layers, but Sam rips nearly everything competently to shreds and peels it off my body.

  I stop shivering.

  “Stay with me, Laurel. Come on, say something! Ask me anything.”

  “Why are you looking so… troubled?”

  “That’s my natural expression.”

  “Did you have… a vision?”

  “Yes. And when I came down here I heard you. You were blowing bubbles.”

  “How long…” Slowly, I keep breathing. “… was I… in the water for?”

  Sam grabs his sweater and starts to dry me off, dabbing at patches of my exposed skin. “I don’t know, a while. You drifted off, and now you’re suffering from severe hypothermia.”

  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realize that this is the first time he has seen me naked. Not exactly the most romantic picture I had in mind. “How do you know… it’s severe?”

  “Because you stopped shivering.”

  “I thought that that was… a good… sign?”

  “No, Laurel, it’s not.”

  “You are always so… direct.”

  “I’m sorry. We’ll have you warm again in no time.” He leaves his sweater on top of me and takes off my boots and jeans. Everything comes off.

  Oh no…

  Without so much as batting an eyelid, he dries off the rest of my body and then shoves his coat under me, but my bones are so severely frozen that I probably wouldn’t feel it if a metal spring poked into my skin anyway.

  Slowly my eyes wander over him. His pants and T-shirt cling to his body, and quickly he takes off his own drenched clothes. “Maybe it’s… better like this. I don’t care much for… living anymore.”

  “Now you’re talking nonsense,” he answers with a quick look at my face.

  “Really. You… messed it up… for me.” I want to close my eyes, but I’m too tired to do so.

  Sam is standing in front of me wearing nothing but his boxer shorts. I can’t even blink my eyes—or look away—and silently stare at this incredible athletically toned body. He catches my eyes.

  “Then that makes two of us,” he says and kneels down on the squeaking mesh base, folding his body between my back and the wall.

  “I never… told you… that I… love you.”

  Sam presses our bodies together, mine as good as frozen, his sizzling with heat. “Then you can tell me later.”

  Inside, his answer makes me smile. My eyelids flutter closed as one last thought crosses my mind. Never again will I feel this way about someone else. Not in this intense way.

  The last thing I notice in my semi-conscious state of mind is a pair of scorching hot hands on my spine. A strange sensation flows through my body. It spreads through all my limbs and organs, moves upward and disappears through my crown.

  My eyes become heavy and I can feel myself slip away.

  40

  laurel

  I stare at the dark ocean through a dirty window. The wind is howling around the shack and the rain is clattering against the windowpanes.

  I pull my hands inside the sleeves of Sam’s sweater and bury my nose in the fabric where his scent lingers. I try to understand what happened. I remember Sam placing his hands on my back, and shortly after was when I had a hallucination. A hallucination—I think it was—of a fat snake slithering out of its skin. Its eyes were first covered with a milky film, but a little while later, it looked at me with the clearest of eyes. And where I had initially seen several wounds in its skin, it was now shining, bright and whole again. Slowly, the snake had withdrawn, leaving behind the old layer of skin. At this moment, I can’t say with certainty what was real and what wasn’t, I only know that my life force has flowed back into me.

  I turn around to see Sam buttoning his jeans. How long was I in the cold water? Fifteen minutes, maybe more? It could only have been some mysterious higher force that brought me back.

  Sam looks up. “We’ll be stuck here for a while longer, it’s creepy outside. This spot wasn’t one of my brightest ideas,” he says in a dreary voice, while the cabin is creaking at the seams.

  “I imagine that not even the gods would dare come here right now,” I say with a smile.

  He looks at me with a somber expression on his face. “Why?”

  I shake my head.

  “Why were you in the water, Laurel?”

  “I don’t know. I must have
slipped.”

  He cocks his head. “Slipped, eh?”

  “I wasn’t trying to kill myself, Sam, if that’s what you were thinking. I slipped. I was enjoying the scenery. Okay?”

  He nods. “I’m sorry I was too late again. It’s starting to become a habit where it concerns you.”

  “No, you were right on time, as usual.”

  He bends over and zips up his boots. “I, uh, I should go find wood and start a fire,” he stutters.

  “You don’t have to start a fire for me, you know. I don’t know what you did to me, but I’m boiling hot.”

  “Your clothes have to dry.”

  “My clothes are ripped to pieces.”

  He smiles. “I saved your pants. You can keep the sweater.”

  I return his smile. “How were you planning on starting a fire? There is absolutely nothing here.”

  “My specialty. I can make fire out of nothing.”

  I laugh. “Why am I not surprised? You and your endless talents.”

  He shrugs and gets up. “Talent is a big word. As a child I underwent a survival test. You could do it too, you just have to get the hang of the technique.”

  I lift my brow. “A survival test as a child?”

  “At a young age, I learned to endure hunger, cold, and pain.” He sends me a beaming smile as though he is proud of what he had to endure. “I was drilled.”

  “That’s not funny, Sam.”

  He winks at me. “But it comes in handy for rare occasions like these.”

  “That snake, was it really there?” I ask as he is about to open the door.

  He smiles softly. “No, it was only in your mind.”

  “Then how do you know it was there?”

  “You went through a temple sleep. That means that you have completely healed.” He opens the door.

  “Thank you,” I say.

 

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