Seven Wardens Omnibus

by Skye MacKinnon

  "Probably isn't good enough," the voice said with a tone of disappointment. "You need to be sure."

  "I am sure!" Macey shouted, scared they might not take her seriously. "I love him! What else do you want? I would die for him, I want him to live, I never want to lose him, and I want him to have his magic back. Is that so hard to understand?"

  "It isn't, child." The voice was suddenly soothing and gentle, as if someone else was speaking with the same voice. Maybe it was several people talking to her, even though it sounded like it was all the same. "We see that you want to help him."

  "Then can you help me make him better?" Macey asked, desperation flooding her heart. "Because if you can't, then I'd rather return and be by his side."

  "There is a way we can help," the voice said slowly. "It's not without sacrifice though."

  "I'll give whatever you need," Macey replied without hesitation. "Just tell me what I need to do."

  "It's simple. You will need to carry our flame to him."

  That sounded too easy. She could just take a torch, light it with their flame, then take the Staran to get back to Malan's house. No, that was far too easy for these strange beings who had already tortured her just so she could get an audience.

  "What's the catch?" she asked and the voice laughed.

  "You will have to carry it in your hands."

  Suddenly, the blisters on her skin felt as if they were exploding, agony flooding not just through her hands, but through her entire body. She looked down and saw flames circling her fingers, burning into her flesh. Were they going to burn until there was nothing left of her hands?

  "Run, child," the voice called to her. "Run and bring him the flame. There's an entrance to the Staran at the end of this cave. Run and get there before the flame has nothing left to feed from."

  Macey wanted to cry, to cower on the ground and somehow extinguish the flames that were hurting her, but Flint's face was burning in her mind, encouraging her, showing her why she was doing this. She had to help him. He was worth it. The pain wouldn't matter once she'd given the lampad's fire to him.

  She ran, more stumbling than actually running, towards the other side of the cave. A simple door was cut into the stone. She hesitated for a moment, then pressed her burning hands against it. She screamed as the pain became worse than ever, but the door opened, giving way to the swirling fogs of the Staran. She stepped forward and thought of Malan's house, willing the Staran to carry her there.

  Chapter 6

  She landed with a thud as the Staran threw her out. She cupped her hands together, hoping she'd done enough to keep the flame alive. The last thing she wanted was to end up with nothing to rekindle Flint's magic with.

  She got to her feet, trying not to stumble, but it was difficult with her hands occupied. But she needed to get into Malan's house. To get to Flint and save him from the lack of magic.

  She pushed through the front door, ignoring all the people who tried to talk to her. None of them had any right to stop her from reaching Flint and doing what she needed to.

  Rushing through the hallway to Flint's room, her foot caught and she fell to the floor. She held her hands to catch her fall, only realising what that would mean seconds before they touched the floor. She closed her fists tightly, hoping it would protect the flame currently burning in her left hand.

  She rolled, panic building inside her. She didn't dare to open her and see the fate of the flame. She just needed to get it to Flint and do… well, she wasn't all that sure what she needed to do. The lampads hadn't told her any of that and she hadn't thought to ask. Though given their attitude, she doubted they'd have given her the answers she needed.

  Back on her feet, she kicked open the door to Flint's room and half-ran straight to Flint's bed side.

  His eyes were closed and his skin pale, he was just a shadow of his former self and it scared her. She hated thinking this had happened because of her. But she was doing something about it now. It had to work.

  Not knowing what to do, she pressed her hands against Flint's heart, flattening them against his chest and willing the flames to jump into him. To do something.

  Silently, she begged for some sign that her plan had worked.

  But nothing came.

  Flint didn't move. Not even a flutter of his eyelids.

  She was too late.

  Slowly, Macey lifted her hands and turned them over, expecting to see the flame lingering there still.

  She stared at them in horror, before her gaze flickered to Flint's chest.

  No flame there either.

  What could have happened to it?

  She willed the flame to reappear, but all that happened was the blisters on her hands starting to burn and pulse. She could have sworn they started to glow too, but that couldn't be right.

  "Macey?" a female voice asked.

  She swung her head around, registering that it was Amber talking to her.

  Amber...

  The cruel taunts from her trip through the flames trickled back into her mind, reminding her of how the other woman was ready to take her place.

  Rage built up inside her, taking over every fibre of her being.

  "Macey, are you okay?" Concern marred the red-head's features, but that barely registered in Macey's anger-fuelled brain.

  "You," she hissed. "How dare you think you can replace me?"

  "Replace you? What are you-"

  "Don't think to deny it," Macey countered. "I know all of your plans."

  "I don't have any plans. Macey, what happened? Where are the others?"

  Macey didn't answer, instead, she fixed her hatred-filled gaze on the other woman. This person wanted her men. She wanted to take her place. At this point, it wouldn't surprise Macey to discover she was the one to steal Flint's magic in an attempt to steal the power.

  "Get out," Macey hissed.

  Amber didn't need to be told twice and scrambled from her seat. She was probably running to her mage. Izban wouldn't be able to save her from Macey's wrath. No one could.

  Macey glanced back at Flint's still and lifeless body. Inwardly, she could feel the tears that wanted to fall, but something within her wouldn't let them go. She couldn't allow the pain to take over. Not when she had her anger to sate.

  Without wasting another moment on the dead, she stormed back out of the room and through Malan's house, paying as little attention to the people around her as she had when she'd come in.

  She slammed the front door closed behind her and ran into the middle of the field in front of the house. Macey fell to her knees, bruising them as she did, and let out a keening scream. All her rage, all her pain, all her fury, let loose in one loud scream. She could have been mistaken for a bean sí with the noise she was making. Maybe becoming one of the heralds of death would be preferable to this torture.

  * * *

  "Macey!" Amber called out.

  Macey got to her feet, spurred on by the hatred bubbling in every part of her. The woman was behind her. And she wasn't alone. Macey didn't need to turn around to know that. How dare she bring back up. She thought she was so much better than Macey. She thought she could take Macey's place. And yet, she needed other people to help take Macey down.

  She spun, throwing her hands up and feeling power crackle around them. It felt different from her water magic, but she didn't question that in her rage. Nor did she pay any attention to the small part within reminding her that none of what the voices said was true. That none of what had happened was Amber's fault, and even if it was, it would have been an accident.

  Her eyes hardened as she stared at Amber and Izban. Some of the other assembled beings were flanking them, but she didn't focus long enough to figure out who they were.

  "How dare you try to take them from me!" she shouted, her gaze burning through them all.

  Amber tried to speak, but Macey shushed her in a motion, a crackle of flames following after her hand. That should have been enough to stop her. To calm her and make her stop, but
she didn't want to. She wanted to get rid of the rage inside her. Unleash it and let it destroy everything around them all. Why should anyone be happy when she was left like this.

  Flames leaped from her hands and into the dry grass, singeing and burning everything in its path. She should call it back into her and stop this madness. But the time for should had passed. Now was the time for retribution.

  "Macey!" Flint's voice called.

  How cruel was her mind. Reminding her of the voice of her dead love. She willed the voice to go away. To leave her be in her grief.

  "Macey! Stop!"

  No. She refused to listen to the phantom. He was gone. he couldn't be talking to her, advising her, helping her. She closed her eyes against the chance of seeing him. She didn't need any more torture than she was already enduring.

  "Macey, please?" he begged, his voice closer this time. "You're going to hurt someone."

  "Only those who deserve it," she spat out.

  "No one here has done anything to deserve your anger, Macey. Please listen to me."

  "Why should I listen to you? You're dead and gone. You've abandoned me." Her anger waned every so slightly, but only to be replaced by sadness and regret.

  "Dead? I'm not dead. You saved me."

  "I saw you dead," she countered. "Don't do this to me, Flint."

  "I'm not doing anything."

  Hands slipped around her and she tried to fight them off. Who was conjuring such visions? Making her think Flint was with her again? It was despicable magic. Vile. Whoever it was should be burned. She could arrange that. All it would take is a flick of the wrist.

  "Macey, please open your eyes?" Flint begged, his voice low and soft in her ear.

  "No, you're not real. I can't do it. I can't face it." She shook her head furiously.

  "I promise you, I'm real. you can see me and touch me."

  "How do I know it isn't just some vile trick? To force me into submission."

  "You just have to trust me," he whispered. "But I can help you with the flames. You don't have to let them be so out of control. Trust me, Macey, please."

  Something clicked within her and she opened her eyes in time to watch the crackling flames on her hands diminish and turn into nothing more than sparks.

  Slowly, she turned in the man's arms, almost screaming when she saw it was indeed Flint holding her. He had a serious expression on his face, and still looked a little too pale for her liking, but he was with her, and he was alive. That was the main thing.

  "Flint?" she whispered, her voice cracking as it returned to normal.

  "Shh, I'm here, Macey. I'm real and I've got you."

  She nodded and collapsed into his arms, the anger giving way into tears. The fires within her died down, along with the anger and grief. There was no need for them now. She sunk to her knees once more, still wrapped up in Flint's arms.

  "I've got you, Macey. You're safe." He stroked her hair as he continued to whisper, giving her the comfort she needed.

  She was huddled up on the sofa, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders while a healer worked on her hands. Flint was by her side, hugging her close. Her hands hurt like hell, but the pain within her mind was much worse. She wasn't sure what to believe anymore. Flint was real, safe, healthy - wasn't he? Was this just an illusion, like the fiery visions in the tunnel of fire?

  Macey was beginning to think that the flames she'd carried hadn't just hurt her hands. They'd also seared her mind, breaking open doubts and wounds she hadn't known she carried.

  After the healer left, they sat in silence, both lost in thought.

  "How did I wield fire?" she suddenly asked, surprising both herself and Flint. Besides the healer, they were alone in the living room. Malan had made sure of that.

  "Maybe you still had some of the lampad's flames left over?"

  She shook her head. "No, it was all gone. I would have felt it."

  He was silent for a moment and Macey was beginning to think that he didn't have any answers either, but then he cleared his throat, hugging her even tighter.

  "You know how you have markings of all seven elements?" he said quietly. "Maybe it's not just because you're connected to us. Maybe it's because you're supposed to wield all of them."

  "All of them?" she repeated weakly. "How is that supposed to work? Sometimes it's hard enough to control my water magic, and Air stays quiet most of the time as well. I can't imagine having five other elements to deal with."

  She shuddered at the thought. She didn't want to be special. She wanted to be just one of the Seven Wardens, no different from any of them. They didn't need a leader or someone who was more powerful than the others. No, she just wanted to stay as she was.

  "Maybe I'm wrong," Flint said soothingly, probably realising how much the thought upset Macey. "It's just a theory that's been playing in my mind for awhile. You're the only one of us who's got markings. It must mean something."

  "Or maybe it's just a cruel trick of nature," Macey muttered bitterly. "Just another trick or test. It's getting too much, Flint. I'm not sure how much longer I can keep doing this. Fighting impossible quests. Following vague hints. Protecting the people I love. Some days I just want to lie down and give up."

  "We all do," Flint whispered. "Life isn't fair. Why can't we just be like ordinary people, not having to worry about saving the world. But we've been given this task and there's nobody else to do it. At least we're together, all of us. We've got allies, we've got friends." He chuckled softly. "Even a rogue selkie. You're at the centre of our team, Macey, and you deserve to be there. You're strong, even though you might not always feel that way."

  The bitterness in her disagreed with that. She wasn't special, she wasn't strong. She was just an ordinary loch kelpie, forced to deal with things that were way out of her control.

  "Once this is over, we need a holiday. Somewhere far, far away from any trouble. Just the five of us, no prophets, no monsters, no quests. I'm so tired of it all."

  He kissed her cheek. "Promise."

  * * *

  They sat on the sofa for what felt like hours. After thinking she'd lost him, Macey couldn't let Flint go. She was hugging him close and he was doing the same to her. Even though they weren't talking, she felt like they were communicating in a deep, secret way. Their bond was getting even stronger.

  Her sense of near loss almost overwhelmed her concerns for her other men. For now, those worries had to remain at the back of her mind or else she'd send herself mad.

  At some point, the door opened and one of the kelpies popped his head in, mouthing whether they needed anything, but Flint shook his head and the kelpie left. Macey knew they'd have to go outside soon, talk to their allies, make plans, and eventually leave to attack the Mahoun, but for now, this was a short respite that she was going to take full advantage of.

  "I'm glad you saved me," Flint whispered, his lips drawing shapes onto her cheek. "The afterlife would have been terribly boring without you."

  Despite herself, she laughed. "You believe in an afterlife?"

  "Of course I do. I've seen it."

  She shifted away from him so she could see his face.

  "You have?"

  He nodded. "In my dreams. And before you say it was just a dream, Cam has seen the same thing. I think it's a wraith thing. Neither of us know any other wraiths, so maybe it isn't, but our theory is that we're somehow connected to the other spheres. That's why we can so easily travel the Staran. We're not bound to one world like other races are."

  "You've never told me why it is that you don't know about your own people."

  He shrugged, a trace of sadness in his eyes. "I don't remember my childhood. I have no idea who my parents are. Or if I even have any. It's the same for Cam. Both of us just have memories of the past, even one we can both pinpoint as our first, but we can't remember what happened before. How we grew up. Where we came from. Who our families are. All I know is that I'm a wraith, but most of the time, I have no idea what that entails."
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  "You've never talked about that," Macey said, surprised and a little shocked.

  He chuckled darkly. "It's not something I like to linger on. I have Cam, Rónàn, and Jared, and you, but sometimes, I still feel lonely. Fuck, that sounds depressing." He chuckled again. "But anyway, yes, there's an afterlife, and it's not all that bad. Don't be scared of death. There's more to come once you step through the curtain."

  Chapter 7

  She must have fallen asleep. That was the only explanation for how difficult it was to open her eyes.

  "Macey?" A hand followed her name, stroking along her brow.

  Everything came flooding back. Where she was. What she'd done. Who she'd lost.

  Sitting bolt upright, her gaze flickered around the room, trying to take in who was with her.

  "Flint." Relief filled her as she saw her wraith sitting by the bed. It had been his hand on her forehead then. She was relieved he was okay.

  "Hey, how are you feeling?" he asked softly.

  "Achey," she answered. Her whole body felt heavy and exhausted, like she couldn't deal with even moving to react to the world around her.

  "I'm not surprised. You did a lot of magic yesterday."

  "I slept for that long?"

  "Most of the day," Flint answered. "The others should be back soon."

  "Are they alright?" She worried the sheet between her hands, trying not to be too concerned with the fate of her other men. They knew how to take care of themselves.

  But Jared hadn't been in great shape when she'd left. And they were with Luc, who she wouldn't have trusted if she'd been paid to do so. There was something about the daimon she really couldn't bring herself to like very much.

  "Cam says they're all fine. A bit battered and bruised, but nothing to be worried about."

  "Hmm."

  "They'll be back in an hour or two, you'll be able to see for yourself then."

  "An hour or two? Why is it taking them so long?" she demanded, though her words were still coming out weak and hoarse.