Guardians Watch

by Eric T Knight

  Then a figure came striding down the street and she knew instantly that it was Melekath. Unlike most of what she saw in the dream world, Melekath appeared solid, three dimensional. He looked up, his eyes fixing on her and she went cold inside. He reached toward her with one hand and she panicked and fled.

  Periodically during the next days she felt unseen eyes on her, but whenever she looked up she saw nothing. In her heart she felt certain it was Melekath, that he had marked her and perhaps had followed her somehow.

  It was days before she again mustered the courage to use the dream powder. She knew that if she entered the prison Melekath would be waiting for her. He would trap her there and she would never escape. But finally she had no choice. The prison drew at her. She had to know more. Perhaps she could get some glimpse of his plans. Maybe she could learn something that would help defeat him.

  That night she used the dream powder once again and entered the prison. There was no sign of Melekath, though she thought she could sense his presence, somewhere in the middle of the city. She passed over the city, looking down on it from above. Everywhere she saw shattered buildings and signs of old fires. The roof of one huge, domed building had fallen in and in the depths of the interior she saw movement, but she did not linger to see what it was.

  In the center of the city was a huge spire, made of some kind of bluish stone. Balconies encircled each level, doors and windows opening onto them. It was so large that she gaped at its scale and wondered at the power required to erect it. Gathering her courage, she passed through one of the doors, and followed the stairs downward.

  At the base was a massive amphitheater with a stone tiled floor. Seating lined the entire circumference of the theater, angling up and back. In the center, at ground level, was a stage made of a single large block of stone.

  On the stage stood Melekath, his back to her. He was staring at a tall, rectangular box. The box appeared to be made of stone.

  He turned and his gaze locked on her. As she started to flee he held up his hand and spoke.

  Stay. There is something you want to see first. His words made no sound. It was as though he spoke directly to her mind.

  She hung there, unsure.

  I have someone you have been looking for.

  He laid his hand on the rectangular box. When he did, it changed, becoming transparent.

  Jolene gasped, her world spinning wildly.

  A woman was trapped in the box, her eyes wide with fear. She looked at Jolene and her mouth moved with silent pleas. Then Melekath lifted his hand and the box was once again opaque.

  Tell them. Tell them I have your god and now there are none in your world who can stop me.

  He made a flicking motion with his hand and Jolene was thrown backwards, tumbling over and over. There was a painful jolt and when she opened her eyes she was back in her body, staring at the roof of the cave.

  Xochitl was Melekath’s prisoner.

  She had to tell the others. Slowly she climbed to her feet. It was dark outside and she was painfully weak—she’d eaten very little since leaving the Haven—but what she had learned could not wait. She tottered out into the darkness.

  Netra stopped, tilting her head to one side. She had just caught a faint echo of a familiar Song, but it was gone too fast for her to be sure who it was. Shorn stopped as well and turned toward her, a question in his eyes.

  “I’m not sure, but I think…” She turned and looked up toward the Firkath Mountains on their left. There it was again. She felt herself smiling. “It is her! I can’t believe it!”

  She left the road and ran off into the desert, Shorn thundering along behind her. In the distance a worn figure appeared, making her way slowly down a rocky slope. Netra yelled and ran to her.

  “Jolene! Jolene, it’s me, Netra!”

  The black-haired woman looked up as she approached and for a moment Netra faltered. Jolene had always been thin, but now she was a scarecrow. Her brown robe was dirty and torn and it billowed around her frail frame like a sail. Her eyes were sunken and lined with darkness. At first there was no recognition in her eyes, but then she said, “Netra?”

  Overcome, Netra wrapped her up in a hug and squeezed her tightly. At length she let go of Jolene and stepped back, but she kept one hand on her, as if afraid she might disappear.

  Shorn came up then. Jolene’s eyes grew very wide and she stepped back, her hand coming to her mouth.

  “It’s okay,” Netra reassured her. “He’s my friend. He won’t hurt you.”

  Jolene looked unsure, but she nodded slowly.

  “What happened to you, Jolene? Why didn’t you go with the rest to Qarath?”

  “Qarath? Who went to Qarath?”

  “All of them, all but Siena and Brelisha.” Netra stopped and swallowed, a fresh pain stabbing her. “At least, I think they went to Qarath. I thought you’d gone with them.”

  “No,” Jolene said softly. She wavered and might have fallen if Netra didn’t grab her.

  “Here. Sit down. You look awful.” Netra realized what she’d said and mentally kicked herself. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “I suppose I do look awful,” Jolene replied, looking down and patting some dust from her robe.

  Once she was seated, Netra dug some food from her pack and gave it to her. “How long has it been since you ate?” she asked as Jolene reluctantly took the food.

  “I left the Haven…” Jolene paused, thinking. “I don’t know how long ago it was. After you left. The others were still there. Why did they leave?”

  “I don’t know for sure,” Netra replied. “They must have gone to join the FirstMother in Qarath. Where have you been? Why did you leave?”

  “The dream powder. Brelisha caught me using it. She forbade it. I tried to obey, but I had to know more. I had to help.” She grabbed Netra’s sleeve, her dark eyes searching Netra’s face. “You have to believe me,” she whispered.

  “Believe you? About what?”

  Jolene let go of her sleeve and rubbed at her face with shaking hands. “It seems impossible, but it’s not. In my heart I know it’s true.”

  “Jolene, what are you talking about? What’s going on?”

  “It’s the Mother. I found her.”

  Netra gaped at her. Then she broke into a huge smile. “But that’s wonderful! Where? Where is she?”

  Jolene’s next words were nearly inaudible and there were tears in her eyes as she spoke. “In the prison. Melekath has her.”

  Netra’s sudden joy died. She had to put a hand out to steady herself. “But…that can’t be,” she croaked. “How do you know?”

  “In the dream I traveled to the prison. I…went inside. He has her, in a stone cage. I saw her.”

  “But maybe…you don’t know for sure,” Netra said desperately. She felt suddenly, irrationally angry at Jolene.

  “He spoke to me. He told me to tell everyone he had her and there’s no chance we can defeat him. That’s why I left the cave.” Jolene slumped over as she finished speaking, as if the words had taken the last of what she had left.

  Netra stood and backed away. “You must have imagined it. It can’t be true.” She realized that she was breathing hard, but she couldn’t seem to get enough air.

  “I wish I was,” Jolene said sadly.

  Netra looked at Shorn, but his thoughts were hidden behind the wall of his stone face. There was a sick feeling growing in the pit of her stomach.

  Then Jolene stood up and made her way unsteadily to Netra. There was something different on her face, a strange sort of certainty. “It’s no accident that I met you here, now,” she said. Netra looked at her with confusion. “Don’t you see? I was guided to you. This is all for a reason. It’s you. You’re the one. The only one who can help Xochitl.”

  “That’s crazy,” Netra said. Jolene’s eyes were very bright. “What can I possibly do?”

  Jolene shook her head. “I have no idea. But I know this to be true.”

  Again Netra looked to
Shorn for help, but she found none. She looked back at Jolene.

  “You have to go to the prison. You have to help her. It’s our only chance.”

  “I don’t…” Netra’s words trailed off. Jolene was surely crazy. All she had to do was look at her to see that. What could she possibly do? But then…

  “Maybe it’s not so crazy,” she said slowly. “After I escaped from the burned man I remember thinking that maybe the reason Xochitl hadn’t appeared was because she couldn’t. I even thought that maybe the reason I’d survived all three Guardians was because she was guiding me, that maybe she needed me to help her.” Wonder filled her voice. She turned to Shorn. “It’s possible, isn’t it? That I’m the one?”

  There was an expression on Shorn’s face, but she couldn’t read it. She turned away from him. This wasn’t something he’d know anything about.

  There was awe on Jolene’s face. “You encountered Kasai as well?”

  “Not directly, but through one of his minions.”

  “How did you escape?”

  “It was my spirit guide, just like when I encountered Tharn. With its guidance I…opened my captors’ akirmas and used their own Song against them. I used it to break my bonds and flee.”

  Jolene put her hand to her mouth. “No Tender has done that in a thousand years.” Tears began to flow down her face. “Don’t you see, Netra? It is you. The Mother has been guiding you all along. She sent me that vision and guided me down here today, at this exact time, just so I would find you and tell you.”

  “It seems impossible…”

  “No, what’s impossible is that all these things should be only a coincidence. The Mother’s hand has been in this all along. How else do you explain all the events that led to this moment? Think about it. I have a vision that we need to go to Treeside. Why? At the time it seemed pointless. All that happened was Gerath was killed. But now I can see that it was a test. Xochitl wanted to see if you were the one and when you survived it increased her faith in you.”

  “She sent us there just to test me? But Gerath—”

  “Don’t,” Jolene said sternly. “It is not our place to question the Mother’s plan. So much is at stake and we all have our roles. Gerath had hers, just as I have mine and you have yours.”

  “You really believe that, don’t you?”

  “With all my heart.”

  “But…what am I supposed to do?”

  “I don’t know. But I think the first step is to go to the prison. Trust that the Mother will guide you. After all, she has guided you this far.”

  “Right now?”

  “Yes, now.”

  “Okay,” Netra said, giving in suddenly. “I have no idea what I can do, but I will go. But I can’t leave you here, by yourself.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I will go back to the Haven.”

  “There’s nothing to go back to. Tharn came. After the others left for Qarath or wherever.” She put her hand on Jolene’s arm. “It destroyed the Haven. It killed Siena and Brelisha.”

  Jolene closed her eyes and a took a deep breath. Then her eyes opened and they were filled with resolve. “This is only more proof. Melekath must have learned of you through his Guardians. He sent Tharn there to kill you.”

  “But where will you go?”

  Jolene drew herself up straight. “I don’t know. But what happens to me doesn’t matter. All that matters is freeing the Mother. Surely you, of all people, can see that?”

  “At least let us go with you to Tornith.”

  Jolene shook her head. Though her face was pale her words were strong. “I can make it there on my own. Now go.”

  “Let me give you some of my food.”

  “No. You need it more than I do. Go. Now. Help her.” As Netra began to turn away, she grabbed her arm.

  “You must hurry. Time is running out.”

  Forty-seven

  Netra and Shorn struck off across empty desert to the south, toward the Gur al Krin desert. Netra’s thoughts were whirling. Was this really happening? Had Melekath really trapped Xochitl? But how? Was it possible that when she realized the prison was breaking she’d gone there to check on it and that somehow he’d been able to capture her then? It seemed farfetched, but what other explanation was there?

  “I don’t understand,” Shorn said out of nowhere, after they had been walking for about an hour. “How does she know your god is held in this prison?”

  “She saw it in a vision.”

  “What is a vision?”

  “It’s hard to explain. It’s like a dream, but real.”

  His heavy brows drew together. “You are sure of what she says? She did not look…well.”

  “I am.” But suddenly she was seeing Jolene again in her mind—disheveled, tattered, skinny—and her steps faltered. The dream powder was known to be dangerous and Jolene had always been a little strange. Netra shook her head, trying to drive the thoughts away. Jolene was perceptive, more perceptive than anyone she had ever known.

  “What will you do when we get to the prison? Do you have a plan to fight this Melekath?”

  Netra sagged. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. I guess I’ll figure that out when I get there.”

  “It is not good, to go without a plan.”

  “What else are you proposing I do? Just sit here and do nothing?”

  “No. It is not your way. But to rush blindly is not good.”

  “It will be days before we get there. I just have to have faith that something will come up.”

  He scowled. “What is faith?”

  Netra thought about it. She’d never tried to define it before. “It’s doing something that you know is right, even when there’s no proof it’s right.”

  “I do not understand.”

  “That wasn’t a very good definition. How about this: Faith is trusting in your god no matter what.”

  “What if your god is wrong?”

  “What? That’s ridiculous. Xochitl could never be wrong.”

  “Are there not other gods? People who believe in them? They cannot all never be wrong.”

  “That’s different. Those are false gods. Only Xochitl is the true god.”

  “And she is never wrong.”

  “She…” Netra trailed off. She had spent her childhood arguing with Brelisha about the Book of Xochitl. She had spent the last months doubting everything. She wasn’t sure what she believed anymore. “Maybe I can explain it better. Faith is trusting you are doing the right thing, even when you can’t know for sure that you are.”

  “Faith is trusting in yourself?”

  “What? No. It’s trusting in your god.”

  “That is what you said.”

  “Stop twisting my words. That’s not what I just said.”

  “But this is what you take to the prison? Faith?”

  Netra stared at him. His expression was blunt. He was not judging her. He played no games. He was asking simply because he needed more information.

  “I cannot protect you if I do not know what is going on,” he said at last.

  Netra felt very small and uncertain. In a small voice she said, “It means I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’m just going to try.”

  He nodded. “Okay. Let us have faith then.”

  All day they walked, pausing only briefly to dig food from their packs, then eating while they walked. Netra noticed with dismay that her food was nearly gone and that Shorn did not have much either. She didn’t want to waste time scavenging for food or cooking it. They needed to find something they could take without slowing them down. She knew what the solution was, but she didn’t want to take it unless she had to.

  By the end of the day she was certain they had to do it. The land was flattening out, broken only by clumps of greasewood and twisted cacti. In the distance were the black humps of small volcanic hills. At the base of one she saw the green of a mesquite thicket.

  “See how green that is?” she said, pointing. “I’m thinking there’s water
there.” She looked at the sky. “It’s getting down to the end of the day. If there’s water there, wildlife will be coming in to drink.”

  Shorn stared in the direction of the hill and nodded. Then he said, “I have no bow to hunt with.”

  “Leave that to me,” she assured him. “I know what to do.”

  She led them in an arc that swung around the hill so that it blocked them from the water and they were downwind. Then she led them slowly up to it. When they reached the hill, they crept forward over the jagged black boulders, taking care not to dislodge any stones. The sun was just about to set by the time they got there.

  At the water’s edge were three antelope. Two were drinking, while the other kept its head up, watching the surroundings. Closing her eyes, Netra went beyond. In that nether place she saw the glow of the animals’ akirmas and the flows of LifeSong that sustained them. The flows were too far away to reach and she didn’t think she could get closer without frightening the animals.

  But there was another way, if only her will was strong enough. She focused Selfsong in her hand, so that she would be able to grasp the flow once it was close enough. Then she concentrated on the nearest flow, willing it closer. After a few moments it began to drift nearer.

  The moment she took hold of it one of the antelope stiffened. It threw its head up, muscles bunching as it prepared to flee. But Netra clamped down on the flow, pinching it off, and the animal was only able to take two steps before it went to its knees, kicking and contorting its body, its eyes rolling. Netra clamped down harder. The other two fled.

  Shorn leapt over the boulder they were hiding behind and ran toward the animal, drawing a sword as he went. But by the time he got to the animal it was already dead.

  Stunned, Netra made her way around the boulder and towards the animal. She paused partway as a spasm of nausea passed over her and she bent over, her hands on her knees. She cleared her throat and spit, closing her eyes until the worst of it had passed. Feeling Shorn’s eyes on her, she straightened and gave him a weak smile.

  “It worked. Now we have food.”

  Was it her imagination, or did he look worried? Before she could be sure it was gone, replaced by his normal impassivity.