“We need to get him out of here,” he said.
“Is he going to be OK?” Eleanor asked.
Will nodded without looking up. “He’s taken quite a beating and he’s exhausted. I think there might be broken ribs, but hopefully he’ll heal.” He gently pulled his patient into a sitting position; as he did, Conlan’s eyes flickered open.
“Hi, Boss, how do you feel?” Will asked.
“Is Eleanor OK?” Conlan’s voice was a whisper, and pain danced deep in his eyes as he fought for consciousness, struggling to sit up.
“Yes, she’s fine. She put up a great fight,” Will said. Conlan stared at Eleanor, the strange look back on his face as he examined her.
“Erm, Boss, what do you want to do with this one?” Freddie called from behind them.
Conlan looked past them to where Freddie stood over the young Protector.
“Will, get me up.”
Will shook his head. “You should stay where you are, let Freddie handle it.”
Conlan glared, until the blond man sighed.
“Yes, Boss,” he muttered, hauling Conlan to his feet, watching him walk painfully towards the Protector.
“Freddie, your sword,” Conlan said softly, holding out his hand.
“Yes, Boss.” Freddie answered. He unsheathed his weapon, handed it to Conlan and stepped out of the way. The terrified Protector began to babble in his growling language. As the tip of the sword was placed against the man’s chest, his babbling intensified, tears ran down his face and he started wringing his hands. Horrified, Eleanor moved to Conlan’s side.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
Conlan looked at her, eyes dark, unreadable. “Killing him.”
Eleanor gasped and shook her head. “Let him go, he’s just a kid.”
“He knows who you are Eleanor, knows you exist – knows we exist. He can’t be allowed to live,” Conlan said, his voice empty.
“So what if he knows we exist?” she asked, angry at Conlan’s sudden casual disregard for life. Was he not the one who was just berating me for accidentally killing people in Bremen?
“So when he goes running back he will tell the Enforcers, and we’ll be hunted. The minute the snow melts they will be swarming all over this mountain. It will make things very difficult.”
“Then it makes things difficult,” Eleanor snapped. “Let him go!”
Conlan grabbed her right wrist, giving no care to the still slowly oozing knife wound, and pushed it in front of the kneeling man’s face. He growled something at the terrified Protector in his own language. The kid looked horrified, nodded and said something back; it sounded to Eleanor like the word Knife Man had yelled, harish. She yanked her hand back, hissing in pain.
“What did you say to him?” she asked.
“I asked him if he knew what you were, if he recognised the symbol on your wrist.”
“I take it he did. What’s the word he used, ‘harish?’ ”
“The closest Will got it in your language is ‘abomination’,” Conlan replied.
“He thinks I’m an abomination?”
Conlan nodded. “Yes, he does and that’s why he and his kind will hunt us and kill us if they can.” As if that was enough of an explanation, Conlan raised the sword. Eleanor stepped quickly in front of the trembling Protector. Alarmingly, the tip of the blade punctured the rough material of Eleanor’s shirt, coming to a rest against her skin. It would take very little pressure to force the sword into her belly. She gasped and froze. Conlan glared at her with barely controlled fury; he did not withdraw the sword.
“Eleanor, he has to die,” he said quietly.
“So this is what you are? A cold-blooded killer? Don’t you think there’s been enough blood and pain for today?” Eleanor yelled, her anger giving her courage.
“If you had done as I ordered, the only blood spilled today would have been mine.”
His tone was lethal and ice-cold. Eleanor recognised that this was a dangerous situation, that she did not know Conlan well enough to predict if he would actually push the weapon into her, but she was too angry to care.
“You’re saying this is my fault for disobeying you? You want to punish me? Punish me! But don’t take it out on someone else!”
Conlan tightened his grip on his blade. Eleanor felt the tiny movement against her side, a whisper of menace from the razor-sharp edge, it raised goosebumps across her trembling flesh.
There was no empathy in Conlan’s unflinching glare. “You need to understand that your actions have far-reaching consequences – and his death will be one of them. I give orders for a reason, and I expect them to be followed. I need to know I can trust you to do as I say. I’m ordering you to get out of the way so I can clean up your mistake.” He spat the words out, clearly not used to having to explain himself.
Eleanor glared back. “I won’t mindlessly obey,” she yelled. “But this isn’t about trust, is it? You need to know you can control me. If that’s what you want, someone to follow you around obeying your every command, then please, push that sword into me because I’d rather be dead than someone’s lapdog. This human being doesn’t deserve to die just because you think I made a mistake.” For the longest moment Conlan just stared at her. Amelia walked up to his side.
“You wanted a stronger Earth, Boss. Be careful what you wish for,” she said, a small smile on her face. Conlan nodded irritably and said something to the terrified Protector, who began to babble again. The kid took Eleanor’s hand, depositing several wet kisses on her brand, getting her blood on his lips in the process and not seeming to care. He muttered something at her, smiled and then ran out of the canyon and into the night. Eleanor watched him go, before returning her gaze back to Conlan’s hard face.
“What did you tell him?” she asked.
“I told him an abomination had just risked her life to save his, and that he should reassess his opinion of you,” Conlan said in the same lethally cold tone.
“Is that what all the kissing was about?” She wanted to rub her wet wrist against her clothes, wanted to cradle her throbbing arm that was still slowly dripping, a crimson puddle growing in the snow, but she was too afraid to move.
“Indeed – he called you Talukki.” Conlan sounded grimly amused.
“What’s that?”
“She was one of the ancient goddesses.”
“So I’m a goddess now?”
“That young Protector certainly seems to think so,” Conlan said, not taking his eyes from Eleanor’s.
“Great. Well, this goddess would really appreciate it if you’d remove your sword.”
Conlan did not respond but just continued to glare at her. With just the tiniest movement, he slowly dragged the blade down, tearing the rough fabric of her shirt. Eleanor felt the tip of the blade run, feather-light, down her flesh. Terrified, she trembled slightly, aware of the skill it must take to rip her clothes yet not mark her now coldly sweating skin; but she was not going to back down. They stared at each other for what seemed to Eleanor like an eternity, before Conlan pulled the blade back and handed it back to Freddie. Giving her one last disgusted look he turned and walked slowly to where Will was holding Rand. Eleanor felt her legs start to collapse under her. An arm caught her before she hit the ground. It was Amelia, and she was grinning from ear to ear.
“What are you smiling about?” Eleanor asked.
“He likes you.”
Eleanor shuddered. “I’d hate to see what he does to people he doesn’t like.”
The Five
The snow continued to fall as they moved higher into the mountains. Conlan sat astride Rand, hunched under a thick blanket, while Will and Freddie walked on either side of him, to steady him over uneven ground. It was cold and getting colder, but as Eleanor walked side-by-side with Amelia, following Rand up the path, she barely felt it. This had little to do with the blanket she had wrapped around her shoulders, internally she felt energised, excited and safe all at the same time. The exhaustion w
as still under the surface and the knife wound ached miserably under the bandage Will had carefully applied while Amelia and Freddie had removed the evidence of the fight, yet nothing could destroy the out-of-place joy she felt.
“Amelia, the others… The ones who killed themselves… Did they go mad first?”
Amelia glanced at her, then turned back to concentrate on the path. “I imagine you’ve got to be a little disturbed to kill yourself. Why do you ask?”
Eleanor shrugged. “I just have this strange feeling, this bizarre energy; I should be dead on my feet, but I feel like I could run a marathon.”
“Well, you’re the element of Earth, so your body was made from the soil you’re walking on – soil and Conlan’s blood. The Earth gives you energy.”
Eleanor stopped. Amelia had just given her more information in five seconds than Conlan had managed since she had met him. She blinked rapidly, her mind spinning again. Amelia stood by her side, not hurrying her, letting Eleanor come to terms with this new information in her own time, grey eyes watching her thoughtfully.
Eventually Eleanor found her voice. “So I’m not human anymore?”
Amelia smiled. “Yes and no. You’re flesh and bone, with a heart, mind and soul, but you were created, not born.”
“From dirt and his blood?” Eleanor nodded in Conlan’s direction, unable to keep the revulsion from her face.
“He’s a good man, Eleanor. He tries so hard to do the right thing,” Amelia said.
Eleanor glared at her. Amelia noticed her expression and smiled, as she set off again up the path she called over her shoulder. “I told you, he likes you. Freddie’s first week in this world, Conlan broke his arm!”
This news did nothing to quell Eleanor’s anger. Sighing, she trotted after Amelia until they were side by side again.
“So how did this creation thing happen?”
Amelia shook her head. “I’ve no idea. Conlan goes alone to the shamans in Millar’s Forest.” Giving up his blood doesn’t sound very pleasant.
“Does it hurt him?”
“Creating us?” Amelia shrugged. “Again, I don’t know. He usually comes back exhausted. That’s why we came to meet you, in case he needed help, but this is the first time he’s come back half-dead and being chased by Protectors. It’s a good job Freddie insisted we come armed.” Amelia glanced at her curiously. “What have you two been doing?”
Eleanor sighed. “It’s a long story and it’s mostly my fault, hence why Conlan nearly kill me.”
Amelia stopped again, turning towards Eleanor, her face hard. “Is that what you think? If Conlan had wanted to kill you, you’d be a corpse. That was just his idea of discipline. There are some really dangerous things in this world, Eleanor, and he’s one of them, but he would never have done you any serious damage.”
Remembering the look of fury and menace in Conlan’s eyes, Eleanor was not convinced, but Amelia seemed sincere. As they set off walking again, Eleanor’s mind, rapidly processing information, came up with another question.
“Are you an element too?”
Amelia nodded. “Air’s my thing. You should see how hyper I get when it blows a gale up here.”
“How do you make a body out of air and blood?” Eleanor wondered aloud.
“Don’t know, I never bothered to ask.”
“Freddie and Will?”
“Freddie is fire, Will is water and they tend to clash quite a bit,” Amelia said with an unhappy look on her face.
“But Conlan wasn’t created?” Eleanor asked, relieved to have finally found someone to answer some of her questions.
“Yes and no,” Amelia answered after thinking a moment. “He wasn’t created, he had parents, was born, but he’s the centre, the spirit that holds the four of us together and directs our focus. He’s as much one of us as you are.”
“How does he ‘direct our focus’?”
Amelia shook her head, and snow flew off in a fine powder. “I’ve no idea; we’ve never got it to work.”
“Got what to work?” Eleanor asked, confused.
“The connection between us.”
“And if we do get this connection turned on, what happens? What does Conlan plan to do with us?” Eleanor asked.
Amelia stopped again, the serious look on her face turning into a frown.
“He plans to save the world.”
Eleanor stared at her for a moment in disbelief. “Oh good, I’m glad his aims are realistic!”
Amelia laughed, a light, airy sound. A little further up the path, Will turned back to look at them.
“Come on, you two. You can bond when we’re somewhere warmer!”
“We’re coming!” Amelia said, grabbing Eleanor’s hand and marching off up the path with purpose.
Their last stop had been hours ago. Eleanor had eaten and drunk the meagre provisions she was given in silence. Since then, the only sounds for miles had been her harsh breathing and Rand’s occasional snorts. It had stopped snowing and the sky was beginning to lighten as they struggled onto a large ledge. At the back of the ledge was a small gap in the rock, into which Freddie abruptly disappeared. Will carefully eased Conlan off Rand’s back, he groaned as his feet touched the ground, but remained standing. Freddie came back out, and then leading Rand, squeezed him through the gap. Will slid his shoulder under Conlan’s arm, taking most of his weight, and they too disappeared through the narrow gap. Eleanor bent over to catch her breath. When she was able to stand again she looked out from the ledge at the mountains that spread into the far distance. It’s beautiful. Moving forward, she felt the familiar squeeze to her insides that any height gave her. It was an irrational fear and she knew it, so whenever possible she forced herself to face it, getting as close to the edge as she could. Amelia was immediately at her side, a warning arm whipped out across her body, and Eleanor was shocked by the haunted look of fear that had darkened her grey eyes. Her tired mind slowly made the connections and she gasped, looking at the dizzying drop into black nothing in front of her.
“One of the others… they jumped from here?” she whispered.
Tears and horror in her eyes, Amelia nodded. Eleanor moved back slowly from the edge and allowed Amelia to guide her through the gap in the rock where the others had gone. The gap opened out into a large cave. Freddie was rekindling a substantial fire in the middle, and as it caught, the light began to chase off the shadows. Eleanor saw entrances to other caves off the main one. She could see Rand moving around in the one closest to her, but the other spaces were still in darkness. The fire quickly blazed into life, and Eleanor shuffled towards its inviting heat.
Will had eased Conlan to the ground. He slumped against the cave wall, eyelids heavy as he fought to stay conscious. Will and Amelia were busy lighting lanterns and depositing them in the caves off the main one. Freddie stoked up the fire and then went to see to Rand. Eleanor continued to watch Conlan. He looked so very tired, hurt and vulnerable. She remembered the blade running down her side. Not that vulnerable! Noticing her scrutiny, he raised his head to meet her gaze, a blank expression hiding his thoughts.
“You’re really not like the others, are you?” His voice a whisper. Eleanor walked over, kneeling at his side before she responded.
“I don’t intend to kill myself, if that’s what you mean, but that doesn’t mean you won’t do it for me,” she muttered.
Conlan sighed. “I’m not going to kill you, Eleanor, although beating some sense into you has occurred to me.”
“Threatening me with violence isn’t a great way to build trust,” Eleanor observed.
“I suppose not,” he conceded. “Would it help if I said thank you?”
“That depends, do you mean it?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Conlan smiled and her anger melted away.
“Yes, Eleanor, I mean it,” he said quietly. “Thank you for rescuing me and for returning Rand. I’m grateful.”
She nodded, smiling back. Conlan sighed again and finally allowed his eyes to close
, his body slumping further to the side. Eleanor caught him before he hit the ground, gently lowering him down. He whimpered softly but did not wake.
“He really likes you. That’s the closest I’ve ever heard him get to apologising.”
Eleanor jumped at Amelia’s voice. The woman was stood behind her, watching. Eleanor rose to her feet, but she found her eyes straying to Conlan’s still body.
“How long have you known him?” she asked.
“Nearly four years now,” Amelia said, gazing down at him, concern in her eyes.
“Were you the first he created?”
Amelia shook her head. “No, Will was the first, about ten years ago.”
“Excuse me,” Will said, not looking at them as he knelt at Conlan’s side, checking his pulse. “Freddie, I need help getting Conlan into his bed,” he called. Freddie appeared from Rand’s cave and between them they carefully carried the unconscious man into one of the smaller hollows. Eleanor followed, but she hung back at the entrance, unsure. This cave was much smaller, and without the fire it was colder than the main cave. It contained five beds made from rough-cut logs and rope. The mattresses looked like straw, but they had thick blankets covering them and inviting pillows. Will and Freddie laid Conlan on one of the beds at the far end of the cave, but he did not stir. Amelia removed his boots and covered him with the blanket. She indicated the bed next to Conlan’s.
“This is your bed, Eleanor, do you want to sleep or eat something first?”
She was hungry. The rough bread rolls Amelia had given her on the way up the mountain, though welcome, had done little to satisfy her, but with every muscle and bone in her body screaming for rest, Eleanor looked longingly at the bed.
“I think I need to sleep,” she whispered.
Will and Freddie moved back to the main cave, smiling at Eleanor as they left. Amelia patted the mattress, as if beckoning a child. Eleanor walked over wearily, pulled off her boots and climbed under the bed’s surprisingly soft blanket; she eased herself down, sinking into the pillow with relief. Amelia picked up the boots, looking at them with distaste.
Eleanor Page 6