“Someone has been caught lurking outside the Guild,” Felix reported, casting his eyes down when Scorch adjusted his trousers. “She says she knows you.”
Vivid harrumphed grumpily and straightened his apprentice’s shirt so it was no longer rucked up in the back from Scorch’s wandering hands. “Were you expecting a lady caller?” he asked, glaring at Scorch and giving no indication whatsoever that their bodies had been plastered together only moments before.
Scorch’s mind was clogged of all sense. Not only had he not been expecting a lady caller, he could scarcely recall the name of any lady he had ever met his whole life long. There was only Vivid, bright and violent, knocking around in his head and causing an unrivaled ruckus. He tried to voice that fact to Vivid, but the best he could do was shrug his imbecilic shoulders.
“She has an eye patch,” Felix added, “if that helps.”
Scorch’s eyes found Vivid’s as a fragment of reality returned to him. “That does help.”
“Take us to her,” Vivid ordered, already leaping over the training ring fence and staring down Felix.
As soon as Scorch could pry his eyes from the curve of Vivid’s back, he hurried after them. His head might have been fuzzy, and his lips might still have felt the press of Vivid’s kiss, but if Audrey was at the Guild, it meant bad news. And if Felix had left Merric alone with an assassin, it meant even worse news.
New Boots
22
Audrey’s twin daggers were bared, one pressed to Merric’s throat while the other pressed against his groin. The edge of Merric’s sword was positioned to cut a slice straight through Audrey’s belly. They were just beyond the Guild walls, surrounded by the nosy murmurings of a dozen apprentices who’d gathered round as spectators. Vivid shoved them out of his way to get to Merric. He struck him in the nose and kicked behind his knees, collapsing him to the ground.
Scorch grabbed Vivid and pulled him away before he could do more damage. Vivid rolled his eyes, but temporarily refrained from murdering Merric. Felix helped Merric to his feet, and Vivid freed himself from Scorch’s grasp to take Audrey’s arm, leading her away from the others. Scorch watched him whisper fervently in her ear. She whispered something back and Vivid nodded.
Merric approached Scorch, looking a tad more like the Merric he remembered, the one who’d disliked him immensely. “You’re friends with an assassin?” he asked, keeping his voice low so the gawking apprentices couldn’t overhear.
Scorch winked, because it felt appropriate. “Assassins can’t get enough of me.”
“I’ve had enough of you,” Vivid said, returning with Audrey. She’d put her blades away.
“Vivid’s an assassin, too?” Merric fretted.
Scorch ignored Vivid’s jibe and Merric’s string of disgruntled noises and grasped Audrey’s shoulder. “I didn’t think I would be seeing you again so soon.”
“Trust me,” she returned, “neither did I.”
Merric clicked his tongue impatiently behind him.
“Audrey,” Scorch said, “I believe you’ve met Merric. He’s—” Scorch stopped, embarrassed by what he’d been about to say. It was stupid of him to even think it.
“I’m Scorch’s friend,” Merric cut in, “and an apprentice of the Guild. And you are a trespassing assassin.” He didn’t look like the declaration of friendship had caused him any physical pain, but Scorch was bewildered. He could feel Vivid’s eyes on him, assessing his reaction.
“I was not trespassing,” Audrey sighed. “I was walking the perimeter.”
“You were thinking about trespassing, assassin.”
Scorch stepped between them when Audrey’s hands fell to the handles of her blades. “Maybe we should move this conversation elsewhere, and stop using words like assassin in front of all the apprentices before—”
“What is going on here?” a voice boomed from behind the cluster of apprentices. They scattered aside to reveal the Guild Master, who examined the scene with a frown.
Merric stepped forward and managed to sound diplomatic. “We have a visitor, Guild Master,” he announced, gesturing to Audrey. “And if I’m not mistaken, she has brought word from,” he glared at her, “an enemy camp.”
Scorch shrugged apologetically at Audrey before facing the Guild Master. “I know her. She’s here to speak to me and Vivid.”
Master McClintock took in Audrey slowly. She was a lot to take in: eye patch, tight black leather, tattooed arms, a cornucopia of pointy objects fastened to her body. If Scorch had to guess, he would wager the Master knew exactly what Audrey was, and which enemy camp she hailed from, and the Guardians’ Guild was not known for their love of the assassins.
“If she has something to say to you,” Master McClintock said, “she can say it to all of us, in my quarters.” He crooked a finger at Scorch and the others. “Follow.”
Vivid and Audrey looked like they would prefer to do anything but follow the Guild Master, and Scorch didn’t feel too excited about the prospect either.
“I think we established a while ago that your precious Master is not to be trusted,” Vivid rumbled.
“If he wished you harm,” Merric pointed out, “he would not have allowed Etheridge to save your life. Besides, we don’t kill people in cold blood at the Guild. Guardians aren’t murderers.”
“I’ve had this conversation before, and I don’t feel like having it again,” Scorch said, clasping his hands together in exasperation. “Audrey, when I came to the Hollow, I had to meet with Axum and trust he wouldn’t kill me. Are you willing to show the Guild the same respect?”
The thin line of her mouth revealed her disdain, but the reluctant nod of her head was all Scorch needed. He set off after the Guild Master and knew the others were following him, especially Vivid, because Scorch could sense his extreme disapproval the whole way there.
****
He had thought it surreal when he first returned to the Guild Master’s room after a long time away, but that was nothing compared to the oddity of sitting in front of Master McClintock’s desk with two assassins, Merric, and a flautist. The fat grey cat had also joined their party and was twining herself around Vivid’s legs. Her purr was the only noise in the room until Master McClintock finished packing his pipe and deemed it time to speak.
“Scorch, I am pleased to see you’ve finally made a few friends,” the Master said, “colorful as they are.”
Scorch blushed, but the warmth bundled inside his chest spoke of a pleasantness he’d seldom felt before. The last person he’d considered a friend turned out to be a radical maniac he’d set on fire, and he hoped that the people around him owned a different fate. He certainly had no intention of setting any of them on fire, and he thought they mostly felt the same. Well, Vivid was still iffy. Now that they were no longer kissing, he was back to glaring at Scorch as if the power of his eyes alone might force a spontaneous combustion. Scorch met that heated gaze and worried when he felt a stirring below his belt. Was it normal to be aroused by someone possibly attempting to stare at him to death? He squirmed in his seat and forced his attention away, coughing to cover up the embarrassing sigh that went hand in hand with thinking about Vivid.
Master McClintock’s eyes swept reservedly around the room. “Does your colorful friend have colorful news to share?”
Audrey—who had refused to sit, and was stalking like a lion behind the chairs—scoffed. Maybe scoffing was part of the assassin training program, in which case, Scorch was sorry he’d missed it. “I would not call my news colorful. Bleak, maybe. Harrowing,” Audrey said. At the others’ silence, she propped a hand on her hip and delivered her one-eyed stare to Scorch and Vivid, willfully ignoring everyone else. “When I returned to the Hollow, it was in upheaval. Axum is moving his plan forward and taking no chances. They mean to kill the Queen and take Viridor.”
Scorch sat ramrod straight in his chair. “What? I thought Axum was going to attempt to sway the Queen first.”
“Perhaps he did and already fai
led,” Audrey said. “My insider told me that Axum announced plans for her assassination at their last meeting.”
“When is this happening?” asked Scorch.
“As soon as they arrive at the Queen’s chamber door, I imagine. They won’t be wasting any more time. Whatever restraint Axum had, it disappeared when Elias died.”
“Elias didn’t die, I killed him,” Vivid spat venomously, and Felix squeaked somewhere in the back.
“And because you killed him, Axum and his purist elementals are going to kill the Queen,” Audrey said. “And then they will do their best to either kill or enslave every non-elemental in Viridor.” A piece of hair fell loose from her bun and she blew it out of her face. “I rode for you as soon as I found out.”
“Why would an assassin go out of her way to bring news to a guardian?” asked the Guild Master.
“Because I thought he would want to know,” she answered bitingly, not even sparing the Master a glance. “Scorch, you helped me without question, and I will help you in return.”
“Thank you, but, erm, help me with what?”
“Help you save the Queen and eliminate Axum.”
“Scorch will not be aiding the Queen in any capacity,” Master McClintock interjected forcefully. “The Guild thanks you for your information, but only guardians can be burdened with such tasks, and Scorch is no longer a guardian.”
“Lucky Scorch,” Vivid muttered.
Scorch stood abruptly from his seat and Vivid stood with him, as did Merric. Poor Felix had never been offered a chair, but he straightened his posture in solidarity. “I would not consider saving the Queen a burden, Master,” Scorch said. “And sorry if I’m mistaken, but since I am no longer affiliated with the Guild, you have no say over the course of my actions.”
“The last time you set out to save someone, they ended up dead,” said the Master.
“The High Priestess deserved it,” Scorch argued. “And if the Queen tortures someone I care about and ties me to a chair, she’ll deserve it, too, but until then, I would love to have a go at completing a guardianship that actually means something.”
Master McClintock shook his head sorrowfully. “There can be no guardianship for your kind, my boy. I’m sorry. You should not even be within Guild walls.”
Scorch’s throat tightened and he felt something brush against his back. Vivid’s hand. A small, fleeting touch.
“If this is a mission worthy of the guardians, let me accept it,” said Merric. “You cannot keep me as an apprentice forever.”
“You think it a wise decision to send an unseasoned apprentice on a guardianship as important as this one?” asked his father.
Merric didn’t back down. “I know you. Before you even consider sending out a guardianship to the Queen, you will check and double check your own sources verifying the assassin’s story, and by the time you get around to doing anything, the Queen will already be dead.” Father and son glared at one another. “Let me go ahead now. Check and double check to your heart’s content, and then send someone more capable after me, by all means. But do not let Viridor suffer because you don’t trust an elemental.”
Master McClintock’s eyes locked on Audrey. “Are you an elemental, too?”
She lifted a hand and the water from a cup on the desk floated in the air. Scorch watched in alarm as she directed it to hover over the Master’s head. With a snap, she released it, and his head was soaked, his auburn beard dripping. Vivid snorted. It was the closest thing to a laugh Scorch had ever heard from him, and he wished he had more water to give Audrey so she could coax that sound from him again.
“Scorch,” Felix chimed, “I might be wrong, but if you tell the Queen a horde of elementals are out for her blood, it might not go over nicely for the rest of the elementals.”
Scorch looked down at Vivid and wordlessly begged for his opinion.
“Things have never gone nicely for us,” Vivid said.
“Do you think we should do it?” Scorch asked him.
“I think it’s a terrible idea,” he answered.
“As do I,” piped Master McClintock.
Vivid narrowed his eyes at the Guild Master. “We should leave at once if we hope to beat Axum to the Queen.”
The Master protested, but his words were lost to Scorch. “You’ll come with me?” he asked, surprised.
“Not if you’re going to be looking at me like that the whole time.”
“I’m coming, too,” Felix announced.
“It could be dangerous.” Merric’s voice was warm when he spoke to Felix. “You should return to your village, where it’s safe.”
“No!” Felix looked offended by the suggestion.
“Let the little one come along,” Audrey voiced, patting Felix hard on the shoulder. “I like his curls.”
“This mission will not be Guild sanctioned,” the Master called over the chatter.
“Good,” Vivid responded. “Then there’s a chance something good will come of it.” He turned on his heel and headed for the door, the grey cat walking in his shadow.
Scorch and the others streamed after him. They must have looked menacing as they strutted down the Guild hallways, because curious apprentices ducked their heads as they passed. The only person who had enough nerve to call to them was Etheridge.
“Where have you lot been?” she asked as they passed her tent, her hands on her hips. Her knees were dirty from gardening.
“We have a guardianship to embark upon,” Merric said, a bit pompously.
“Unsanctioned guardianship,” Scorch corrected.
“Well, well,” Etheridge sighed, already exasperated. “Best come in and let me have a look at you all.”
“It’s not an official guardianship, Etheridge,” Scorch said. “You don’t have to run your usual medical check.”
“No one leaves these walls on a mission of any kind without the go-ahead from me,” she scolded. “Merric, Scorch, come here.”
Chagrined, they left the others. Scorch could hear Felix pulling out his flute and asking Audrey if she knew the song about the princess assassin before they walked through the tent flaps.
Etheridge ushered them both to the table, where they sat awkwardly, side by side. She proceeded through her series of medical checks, proclaiming they each had bright eyes and strong heartbeats, and then she set them up with medicinal pouches.
“How did the last one do you?” Etheridge asked Scorch, eyeing him suspiciously as he fastened the pouch to his belt and stuffed it inside his trousers.
“I’m afraid we suffered an untimely separation,” he admitted mournfully.
“Well, I’ve included more of the same,” Etheridge said, patting Scorch’s hip where the pouch was hidden. “And extra ointment for your nethers.” She wagged a finger. “Trust me, better you have it now and not need it, than need it later and not have it.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “There’s a bit of oil in there, as well.”
“Oil?” Merric asked. “What for?”
Scorch groaned and put his face in his hands.
“If you don’t know, Merric,” Etheridge said sweetly, “then you shouldn’t be using it. Now get up and get out. I can’t spend the day fussing over you. I have work to do. Wait a moment, Scorch, if you would.”
Merric hurried out, but Scorch remained, shuffling his feet. Etheridge smoothed a hand over his hair and lightly slapped his cheek.
“Take care of that boy,” she said.
“Merric? I don’t think he needs me to take care of him.”
“Not Merric.”
And Scorch knew she didn’t mean Felix. He nodded, and she caught him off guard, pleasantly, by delivering a kiss to his cheek. Her braids tickled his face.
“I’m sorry,” she said, and he wrinkled his brow.
“For what?”
“For thinking you were a scoundrel.”
“What makes you think I’m not?”
She smiled at him. “Don’t lose that pouch,” she cautioned, and then
she shooed him from the tent.
****
The fat grey cat’s devotion finally reached her limit when Vivid stepped though the large door that led outside the Guild walls. She sat her fluffy bottom down on the grass and meowed until Vivid took a knee. He scratched beneath her chin and said goodbye, then she head-butted his hand and sauntered off to find a patch of sun to sleep in. Scorch tried to keep his face neutral as Vivid stood to rejoin their party. He tried to act like he wouldn’t have the image of Vivid snuggling with that cat ingrained in his memory for the rest of his life.
“She doesn’t have a name, you know,” he said, during the first few minutes of their journey down the main road.
“Of course she has a name,” was Vivid’s stale response. He’d returned to not looking at Scorch and keeping as much space between them as possible.
“Does she? No one knows it.”
“No one knows your name, but that doesn’t keep you from having one.”
“Do you want to know my name?” Scorch asked. The question hung in the air between them. “My real name, I mean.”
Vivid hesitated. “No.” He rubbed at the smooth patch of skin behind his ear, a new quirk to replace the one he’d lost with the edge of Kio’s knife. “You’re Scorch. What use would I have for the other?”
Perhaps a sane person would have been insulted, but Vivid’s words had the rare ring of fondness to them, so Scorch just smiled. “You should give the cat a nickname, then.”
“Why?”
“Because you liked her.”
“You may feel the compulsion to assign names to everyone you like, but I don’t.”
“Whatever you say,” Scorch wracked his brain for a befitting nickname, “Windy.”
“You’re operating under the false impression that I won’t be killing you in your sleep,” Vivid growled.
“I like Windy,” Felix said, but a fierce glower from Vivid wiped the smile from his face, and he fell back to walk beside Merric.
The Sun Guardian Page 34