Messenger (Guardian Trilogy Prequel 1)

by Laury Falter

  “Fear,” I said without thinking.

  His eyes rolled skyward. “That might be an apt name for it. All the time I searched for you, from the point in time when I fell until I reached the Jurgen home, that feeling gripped me.” His jaw tightened in memory of it.

  “Why didn’t you ask the messengers where to find me?”

  “I did. No one knew, except…” His voice faded away.

  “Except?”

  “I could have sworn Hermina knew. She kept dodging me, avoiding me in the hall and at training. Eventually, I felt my efforts were futile and I could do better on my own.”

  My lips turned up in a melancholic grin.

  “So, she did know…,” he surmised.

  And my lips broadened into a beaming smile. The cuts across my face allowed it to stay no longer than a quick breath.

  He frowned. “At least I know who your ally is.”

  His hand came back to my neck and he shifted closer for more leverage.

  A few minutes passed as I focused on avoiding the way my body was responding to him being so close. I thought I had been doing a decent job of it but just after I reminded myself that he had feelings for someone else he noticed.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Is it too painful?”

  Yes.

  «No. I’m…I’m just embarrassed.”

  He went back to cleaning. “At what exactly?”

  “My scrapes.”

  He paused, held his breath, and released it in shocked laughter. “Magdalene, you’re stunning. A few scrapes can’t hinder that…”

  My breath caught in my throat at his unreserved compliment.

  “You think so?” I whispered before realizing I had said it.

  Eran’s hand fell to his lap again and his head began to shake in amazement. “You…You take my breath away…”

  He seemed to freeze in place then, as if he knew he’d gone too far.

  Instantly, my mind turned to the girl who held his heart, and I was filled with longing sadness that she had met him before me. But she had, and because of her, I looked away.

  Yet his words and the way he said them stayed with me through the wiping away of the blood and through the searing pain as I was washed with alcohol. The memory of them stayed with me as Eran repeatedly caught my eye and looked away before the intensity could rise up between us again. They stayed with me when we returned to the tent without risking another word. And they were with me when I fell asleep that night, knowing that Eran sat only a few feet away, attentive to our distance.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: PEACE

  THE NEXT MORNING, I FOUND ERAN sitting at my bedside, staring out the open tent flap. He was leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, his expression relaxed. He seemed to be concentrating on the movement outside. I expected there to be activity, with Hermina and several others having been pulled back to their bodies here before me.

  “Good morning,” he said maintaining his posture. His voice was scratchy from lack of sleep. “How was training?”

  I chuckled while setting my feet on the ground. “Good. We worked hard.”

  He nodded, seemingly relieved to hear it.

  “You didn’t sleep did you?”

  “Some,” he said in an effort to brush the question aside.

  I grimaced, nonetheless.

  “Magdalene, let me ask you a question,” Eran said, still not having looked my way. “Last night, when Seti attacked, what happened?”

  It sounded like a trick question.

  “He died,” I said, which caused Eran to finally look at me. He was smiling at my answer.

  Restraining his laughter, he said, “Yes, he did, but I’m referring to before that point. What happened when the others in the camp knew he was here?”

  “They rushed to help.”

  “Rushed,” he repeated slowly. “Rushed where?”

  I shrugged. “Everywhere.”

  “That’s right,” he replied, somberly. “They were chaotic. They didn’t know where to go or what to do.”

  “No, they didn’t.”

  “I’m glad you agree.”

  “Why?” I asked, suspiciously. That argument supported my reasoning for them to leave, which was exactly opposite to Eran’s objective.

  “I don’t think they are ready.”

  “For an attack?”

  He nodded.

  “Eran,” I said, “are you suggesting they train here too?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m thinking.”

  “And why are you bringing this up to me?” I wondered if he’d forgotten that I still wanted them to leave.

  Boldly, he said, “Because I need your help in convincing them.”

  I shifted uncomfortably. “Eran, there’s only one thing I want to convince them of and it doesn’t involve staying here.”

  “But they are staying here, Magdalene, and if they don’t prepare for a larger attack they will be killed.”

  His blunt declaration jarred me.

  Without me having to confirm it, he remarked, “I know you see my point, Magdalene. We both want them to live. Let’s help them do that the best way we can.”

  Since he was being direct, I figured I should be too. “You’re trying to convince me to make them stay and fight before I can convince them to leave.”

  “And who,” he said, swiveling his head toward me again, “do you think will be more successful?”

  As much as it pained me, invoking a sharpness that ran the length of my stomach, I knew what he said was true. They were going to remain and they would be annihilated if they weren’t ready.

  “I’ll help,” I whispered.

  He evaluated me before responding. “I know how hard that was for you.”

  “It’ll be harder for me if they die. What do you want me to do?”

  He seemed to appreciate my appraisal of the situation before launching into questions about each messenger’s strengths and weaknesses. As I answered them, I got the sense he was assessing their skills based on my analysis of what I had seen of them during practice. When we were done, he sat staring out the tent’s entrance for several long minutes. Then he lifted his head and reviewed his plan with me. When he did, I was left in awe. In a matter of minutes, he had defined our greatest weaknesses around camp and placed messengers with their guardians at the locations they would be most effective and safest given their distinctive traits.

  When he was finished, he asked, “What do you think?”

  I jerked my head back and teased, “You mean the conceited, obstinate warrior is asking for my opinion?”

  “And regretting it…,” he growled before grinning.

  “I think it sounds effective.”

  He seemed to genuinely appreciate the compliment and then prepared to stand, but I stopped him.

  “Eran? Thank you,” I said, “for asking.”

  He remained motionless, and I got the impression he was wavering between his reactions. In the end, he responded in a way that left no doubt to his sincerity. “I value your opinion, Magdalene. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever valued anyone else’s more.”

  This time, there was no inhibition as there had been the night before. Only I seemed struck by his honesty.

  “That…That’s good…”

  “It is,” he said. “A guardian should trust their messenger.”

  As my mouth fell open in offense, his signature smirk sprang up. He was playing with me, I knew, but it was no less insulting. Knowing it, he strode wide steps toward the front of the tent.

  “I’ll see you outside,” he said, amused.

  I recovered quickly from his teasing, put on my boots, and picked up my weapon. By the time I left the tent, Eran was gathering everyone into a circle. Again, there were new faces in the crowd, telling me that I had effectively lost my battle to convince them all to scatter. A few of the messengers acknowledged me with a smile or a tip of their head as Eran began handing out instructions.

  “We will be assigning st
ations for each messenger and guardian pair. You will be entirely responsible for your station, making certain that it is stocked and ready for an assault at any given time. Hoffstedler and I have already discussed in which station each of us would be best suited. He will be giving you those responsibilities now.”

  Hoffstedler stepped forward and began calling names. As each pair moved forward, the crowd slowly dispersed, heading off to their given post. Eventually, only Hoffstedler, his guardian, Eran and me remained.

  “Two are missing,” Hoffstedler announced. “Bailey and Claudius.”

  Eran surveyed the movement of those nearby. “I must have missed them. Let them know when you see them that they will handle cooking duties, at least five hot pots at all times.”

  “I will,” Hoffstedler said and turned to leave.

  “Wait,” I called out. I hadn’t been given my responsibility.

  “Thank you, Hoffstedler,” Eran said dismissing him. “I’ll take it from here.”

  Hoffstedler tipped his head and he and his guardian left to prepare the triage area.

  “You…,” Eran said as a smirk began to form, “won’t be anywhere near the cooking.”

  For the second time that morning, my mouth fell open.

  He laughed boisterously before soothing my pride. “Actually, they’ll be heating up oil so it wouldn’t be edible anyways.” That didn’t alleviate the insult.

  “Regardless, I don’t believe you will be happy any other place than on the frontline. Am I correct?”

  I was still frowning when he made his pronouncement, but once it registered with me I couldn’t stop the smile that surfaced. “You’re getting to know me.”

  “Better than you think,” he mumbled under his breath, which was curious to me. Before I could ask what he meant by it, he continued. “So I believe you and I would be best suited as sentries. We will act as guards and inform the camp when they attack again.”

  “If,” I said.

  “When,” he insisted.

  “So, you are willing to let me be our first line of defense?”

  He smiled stiffly, telling me that while he didn’t like it he knew better than to argue with me on it.

  “Are you up to the task?” he asked.

  “Are you playing with me?” I countered, and he laughed.

  “What…,” someone said snidely while coming up behind me, “could you possibly find humorous?”

  It was Jerod, by the sound of his tone. I turned to greet him and his guardian.

  “Ganzorig,” I said, “we haven’t been introduced.”

  “You need no introduction,” he said, his voice rumbling up from the depths of his lungs.

  Neither did he. His gruff tenor suited him, considering the man was several feet taller than the rest of us, with most of that height marked by scars from previous battles.

  “I’ll tell you what’s not funny,” Jerod went on as if no one had spoken, “is the fact that I’ve been assigned washing of the plates and bowls. I’m trying to participate for once, but I’ve seen the plates and bowls and if that’s what it takes then going it alone is looking far more appealing…”

  In a much more succinct and agreeable way, Ganzorig re-worded Jerod’s request. “He wishes to be re-assigned.”

  Despite Jerod’s typically rude manner, Eran remained stoic as he answered. “I think we can accommodate you…”

  “Jerod,” Jerod snapped, making his self-worth abundantly clear.

  “Jerod,” Eran began again. “We do have a need for someone on buckets.”

  “Buckets?” he said, trying out the word as if it were a taste in his mouth. “Does it have anything to do with cleaning them?”

  “No.”

  Jerod tipped one shoulder up and swiveled his head toward it with flare. “I suppose I can try…”

  „Buckets,“ Eran reiterated.

  “Buckets,” Jerod finished with a roll of his eyes.

  Buckets, I thought, buckets…

  Remembering back to Eran laying out his plan in the tent, he had mentioned buckets. It was the hauling of water from the river, which was located up and over the hill from our camp. I didn’t think Jerod would be too happy once he learned he had traded one dirty physical act of labor for another, and something told me that Eran knew it. When I realized this, I had a difficult time holding back my grin.

  Jerod’s scowl didn’t recede, but he did turn around to leave. He made it two steps before Claudius brushed by him, knocking him in the shoulder hard enough to spin Jerod partly around.

  ”Pardon me,” Jerod huffed.

  Claudius ignored him. With face flushed and eyes wild, he explained the urgency in no unclear way. “Bailey has gone missing. She asked for privacy as she changed clothes. When she didn’t come out and didn’t respond to my calls, I went in and found her gone.”

  In an instant, Eran’s amusement at teasing Jerod was gone. He was now the stone-faced warrior I knew him to be. “Were there signs of abduction?”

  “No. No openings in the tent. No upturned beds.”

  “And you’ve checked the camp for her?” I asked.

  “I did,” he assured, “and she’s nowhere to be found.”

  “Oh my…,” Jerod muttered sarcastically. “She didn’t…Say she didn’t.”

  We didn’t pay any attention to him.

  “Then she left on her own regard,” I deduced. “Could she have gone with anyone?”

  “No one else is missing,” Eran pointed out.

  “How do you know?”

  “Hoffstedler just assigned roles,” he explained, and I saw his point. It was an unintentional checklist.

  “And he’s the one you might want to ask first.”

  At that, Eran’s forehead creased with suspicion as he pivoted to face Jerod. “And why would we want to do that?”

  “She told Hoffstedler that someone should try to negotiate a peace agreement with the Fallen Ones before someone was hurt.”

  Without mentioning it, I wondered if the “someone” she had been referring to was Eran. I had seen her flustered when Eran entered the camp struggling to detain Seti and based solely on the fear in her eyes, I was certain that had been the first time she had seen Eran immersed in a fight, with a Fallen One or otherwise.

  “And what did he say to her?” Claudius asked, ominously.

  Jerod didn’t seem to pick up on Claudius’ edginess as he blithely explained, “He told her that her idea must be the most moronic in the history of existence.”

  I couldn’t imagine Hoffstedler having that kind of reaction.

  “Of course, he didn’t use precisely those words,” Jerod admitted, which made more sense. “She became upset and said something about him not caring a wit about anyone but himself – which could be true – and then said something about Eran and how she was the only one who cared for him – which I highly doubted – and she left sulking.”

  “And took matters into her own hands,” Eran said, summing up the conclusion. “How do you know this?”

  “I told you,” he stressed, “I have a talent for discovering the truth.”

  Eran’s lips pierced in irritation. “How did you come across this truth?”

  “I overheard it.”

  “You mean you were eavesdropping,” I said.

  “I overheard it,” he repeated tersely, which meant my assumption was correct.

  “How long has Bailey been gone?” Eran asked Claudius.

  “An hour, but…”

  “She’s fast,” they said, their voices overlapping.

  “We need to find her before she finds them,” Eran concluded.

  “Who’s finding who?” Alban asked, strolling into our conversation, unaware of its gravity. He was eating a sausage, which left parts of his thick beard sticky and glistening.

  “Bailey’s gone alone to negotiate a peace accord with Fallen Ones,” Ganzorig summarized. His voice was empty of inflection making it seem like he was talking about the weather. For me, however, heari
ng it put to words drove a chill up my spine.

  My worst fear was coming true. These people had come here for me, to protect me, and now one of them had gone to keep it from happening only to put herself in exactly the danger I had been trying to help them avoid.

  Alban picked up on the magnitude of what we were facing and tossed the sausage aside. Slapping his guardian’s chest, he said, “Me and Lorencio are here to assist.”

  And I knew we had two more pairs of eyes that would be looking for her.

  “I think…,” Eran said warily, “we’re going to need everyone.”

  “I’ll spread the news,” Jerod said, adding, “I’m fairly good at it.”

  “Tell them what’s happened and to meet back here at dusk.”

  With a vain uplift of his chin, Jerod spun on his heel and marched off in the direction of the busier side of camp. Before he’d gone three steps, he peered over his shoulder to shout a command. “Come, Ganzorig.”

  Ganzorig did, but not before he heaved a sigh and clenched his teeth in annoyance.

  “All right,” Eran said, addressing the guardians. “We’re going to have to revoke our one rule for the time being…use your appendages. Do it inconspicuously and elevate yourself quickly. You might pass for a bird. I’m going west. The rest of you know what to do.”

  As they dispersed, Eran began trudging toward the farthest tent, getting as far from the other camp as possible before taking flight. I did the same, slightly behind him and to the left. When we had cleared the tents, our appendages opened almost simultaneously and we sped upwards. I veered farther to the left, dropping my sight from him to the ground and beginning my search.

  Several minutes later, Eran’s voice came suddenly from my right side demanding, “What are you doing?”

  I discovered him to be so close our wings were almost touching. An irritated expression was planted on his face.

  “I’ll give you one guess,” I said.

  He sighed. “You’ll be safer at camp, Magdalene. You aren’t needed here, and in fact, your presence only aggravates the situation.”