The Last Guardian Rises (The Last Keeper's Daughter)

by Rebecca Trogner

  “Tequila, it a kill ya,” Jo said.

  “Yeah,” she agreed, regained the tattered edges of her composure, and chanced a quick glance Liam’s way.

  He didn’t show it, but Lily knew Liam must have been a little angry with her, and when she glanced up and saw him looking at her, she saw his concern. It shamed her. She’d betrayed his trust with her impulsiveness. And what of Krieger, who had surely been told, what would he think? What would he do?

  Merlin

  Doctor Caanan was standing by Nina’s bed reading her chart when Merlin walked in. He cast Merlin a mistrustful glance, but said nothing.

  Merlin could try and explain the depth of his despair, his utter hopelessness over what had controlled him, but knew it would be of no use; instead he simply avoided the doctor’s eyes and looked at Nina.

  “How is she?” he asked.

  “You should leave.”

  The king had ordered his silence regarding Nina and her possession by the sorceress, Faye. Merlin swallowed his pride. “I did what I had to do. I don’t expect you to understand.”

  The doctor snapped the chart shut and placed it on the side table, next to a vase of fresh cut roses. “You’re drunk. You look like you haven’t showered in days. The least you could have done was put on fresh clothes.”

  He wasn’t drunk. But the doctor had seen him so too many times to believe him now. He steadied himself against the bed frame as a wave of lightheadedness washed over him.

  “How long has it been since you ate?”

  Two days, three, he wasn’t sure.

  “Here,” the doctor said, shoving a chair towards him. “Sit, I’ll not have you collapsing in here.”

  “I need a moment alone with her.”

  “Not a—”

  Merlin cut him off. “That wasn’t a question.” The doctor stood his ground. “The king has ordered this.”

  “Has he?” The doctor looked at his watch, perhaps calculating how long it would take to verify the order and how much damage Merlin could do in that time.

  “The king trusts me – so should you.”

  “I won’t be told who to trust.” Without looking back, the doctor left, slamming the door on the way out.

  Just one last time, he told himself, upon deciding to visit Nina/Faye. In her sleep state, he could pretend she was only Nina and not the evil thing, Faye, which had tricked him. Had Nina been conscious of Faye’s presence inside her? He hoped that was not the case. Hoped she’d been unaware of what had happened to her. Was anything they’d shared together real? Had he seen just a sliver of Nina or was it all the maniacal fakery of Faye? He slumped down in his seat knowing he wasn’t the Merlin who would discover that. He should kill her, shouldn’t leave her like this, but love, even if it wasn’t true, made fools of us all.

  The tattoos on his arms rolled and pitched, reacting to his nearness to her. “We all must suffer,” he said to them. They were the remnants of his dark magic. Each time he’d dipped down into the well of his being and pulled upon the dark powers, a little bit of the other side had stayed with him.

  I’m a sorcerer afraid to use my magic. With a snap of his fingers her life could be snuffed out, and no one would be the wiser. Long ago, Merlin had brought a great wizard to his knees and stripped him of his magic. How he’d reveled in his power over the helpless wizard. Now, he felt sickened by what he’d done. Granted, he had rid the world of something evil, but there were better ways.

  “Why you?” he asked, knowing she would not, could not answer him.

  He looked down at his fingernails, filthy and bitten to the quick. Suddenly he felt as dirty as he was. When had he last taken a shower or washed his hair?

  Krieger stepped in with the doctor, Hunter following and shutting the door behind him. The room wasn’t big enough for four men to comfortably stand in. Merlin took a step towards the closed door. “I can go now. I only came to make sure she was resting.”

  “How long are you going to keep her like this?” Hunter asked.

  “Did you explain?” Merlin asked the king, who shook his head. “Should I?”

  Krieger replied, “I leave that up to you.”

  The doctor and Hunter both looked at him, waiting for his explanation. “She’s in a dreamless rest. She won’t age, or feel any pain, and will retain no memories of this time or have any adverse effects when awakened.”

  “Why?” Hunter asked.

  “Because Nina was but a shell used to bring evil into our kingdom. Rooted inside…” He caught the king’s expression and revised what he was going to say. “She must stay as is, for now, until it can be determined how to neutralize her effect on my powers.”

  The doctor checked her pulse. “This is nonsense. She is just a young woman. You’re delusional.”

  Merlin felt lucky he didn’t say drunk. “No, Doctor, what I say is true.”

  “You believe what he says?” the doctor asked Krieger.

  “I do. It’s a basic military tactic to infiltrate the other side. In this case, it was Nina.”

  Merlin bowed to Krieger. “Thank you.”

  Hunter had an unreadable expression on his face. “If what you’re saying is true then we need to know who she works for, and for that we need her awake.”

  “It’s too dangerous now to wake her.” Krieger sounded weary.

  Merlin looked down at the floor and realized his shoes didn’t match. “There will come a time for you to question her.” He admired the artistry of the spell on her almost as much as he despised its weaver. The more he used the dark magic, the stronger Faye became. Even now, knowing what he did, it took all his fortitude not to wake her and take her and make love to her. He could never trust himself to use magic again.

  “Do you have any idea who did this to her?” Hunter asked.

  A casual observer of the detective would see nothing more than a benign human, and many in the supernatural world would continue to believe their biased view of him even though he had proven himself to be of a superior mind. Merlin could almost see the cogs of his brain moving behind his eyes, working through the puzzle, searching for an answer. He understood more clearly why the Elder had chosen Hunter, and why he must do the same.

  “I suspect it was Henry’s coven.” Later, Merlin thought, we will discuss Faye and her spell.

  “They’re dead, right?” Hunter asked the king.

  “Yes, I have received confirmation from my informants that they are no more.”

  “You need to stop being crazy then, and fix this,” Hunter said to Merlin.

  Always so pragmatic and forthright. Merlin pondered how long Hunter would retain those traits. “I cannot fix this, as you say, not now.” Merlin looked down at the tattoos on his forearms; they moved anxiously underneath his skin, unsure of what their host was planning. He considered the detective; there was something there, some bit of supernatural which the Elder had picked up on. What exactly it was or wasn’t, Merlin couldn’t be sure.

  Krieger interrupted the awkward silence by opening the door. “It would be best if we continued this conversation elsewhere.”

  I should have expected the king would know what I intend to do. He followed Krieger out the door, only hesitating to glance over his shoulder at Nina for the last time.

  While Hunter was speaking with the doctor, Merlin took the opportunity to speak with Krieger in private. “I need your help.”

  “No,” Krieger set his jaw and shook his head. “I know what you mean to do and I won’t let you. I forbid it.”

  “You can’t forbid this. It must be done.”

  “Are you sure?” Krieger asked. “There has to be another way.”

  “I am ready. It must be done now, before I weaken further. Meet me at the clearing. Would you… make the appropriate arrangements?” Merlin swiftly walked down the corridor without waiting for an answer. Now that he’d made the decision, he didn’t have much time. Would Krieger tell the detective everything, or would it be a surprise? If he weren’t afraid that
the dark magic would take him, he’d have told the detective.

  He stepped out into the crisp night air; his breath formed a cloud as he exhaled. I’ll see all of this again, he reassured himself.

  The clearing was a sacred place marked off with stones placed there by the tribe of Indians who’d called the mountain home before Krieger arrived. Merlin felt the hum of energy emanating from inside the circle as he stepped past the markers into the center, allowing the energy to move through him. His tattoos, the dark remnants of black magic, reacted.

  His body, tired and dehydrated, rebelled and he sank down to sit on the cold ground. Footsteps were coming from the right and left. Hold on just a little longer, he thought.

  “Merlin,” the Ancient said, walking slowly towards him. When he was near enough, the Ancient placed his hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “What you do is noble.”

  “Is it?” Merlin curled up into a ball on the ground. “When it’s done ask the detective how noble he feels I am.”

  “The knowledge must be passed. The Elder chose him. You are following the wisest course.”

  Krieger was the next to join them, then Hunter, and lastly Liam.

  “We are here to help you on your journey.” Krieger bowed low to him. “You’ve stood with me through the tides of time. I honor you now as you pass.”

  “We’re here to help him, right?” Hunter looked around at everyone and stepped back from the circle. “What aren’t you telling me?” He wiped his hands on his thighs, his breathing heavy, his eyes showing fear.

  It was the Ancient who spoke up with his distinctive slow speech that so reminded Merlin of the Druid priests. “Great magic is bought with a high price. Merlin, as he is now, can no longer contain the darkness. He must be released.”

  “What the hell do you mean, released?” The detective moved closer to the outer edge of the circle. “He needs a doctor.”

  “Please,” Merlin begged. “Please, I need your help the most.” Hunter hesitated, his leg lifted to step over the rocks and leave the circle. Will he desert me? After so long am I to die here? Krieger took a step toward the detective, but Merlin called out, “No! He must decide on his own.” How hollow that sounded. How could the detective decide on something he could not conceive? “Ah,” he groaned as a pain, sharp and quick, ripped through his guts. The dark magic was desperate to be free. It felt like razor blades cutting him from the inside. “Now, it must happen now.”

  Hunter turned to glare at them. “Tell me what is going on.”

  Krieger ripped his sword from the sheath strapped on his back. Liam lit the pyre, immediately the dried wood leapt to life. The Ancient reached down and as gently as he could lifted Merlin into a standing position.

  “What do you want most?” Merlin asked Hunter.

  “What are you talking about?” Hunter seemed on the edge of panic and ready to run at any moment.

  “Tell me,” Merlin yelled as loud as he could.

  “Answers,” Hunter immediately replied. As the last consonant slipped over his tongue, Hunter’s body seemed to sag, with uncertainty, or the last dregs of adrenalin leaving his system, or perhaps the transition had already begun and was subduing Hunter like a moth caught in a spider’s web. “Meirta,” he yelled, catching Merlin’s eye to ensure he heard it. “I need Meirta.”

  “And you shall have both.” Merlin was too weak to hold his head up. He rested it against the Ancient’s shoulder, seeing the world sideways. He’d made this final decision when he’d almost killed Cherie. Now after days with no food or water his corporeal being was at an end. The power residing in the tattoos knew this and he had just enough strength to keep it contained within his body. “I beg your forgiveness,” he said to Hunter. “Do it now!” he tried to yell, but knew it was only a whisper.

  His last image through these eyes was the glint of Krieger’s blade. He heard Hunter scream, and felt the Ancient bend his body over so the cut would be true and swift through his neck. Then, mercifully, there was only darkness.

  Anson

  He soared above the clouds, anxious to escape the chaos he felt on earth, needing to think, to plan. Like a quarrelsome fog his memories were haltingly returning to him of when he’d walked these lands before. How he and his brothers had sided with the five Elders and reached out an olive branch to the Dark Ones, the name they’d given the Others who resisted relinquishing their reign over the humans and retreating into the shadows during the Great War. The relentless war that came perilously close to rending the world apart as the two sides used their powers to cover it with water, and fire, and all manner of tragedies. The Dark Ones fought savagely to keep their status as gods on earth, and even now Anson felt no hatred towards them. Were they not Others who wanted to preserve their birthright? But they were short sighted and not willing to bend to the humans whose time had come.

  Since awakening from his imprisonment, Anson had searched for the meaning of his existence in a time and place that was utterly foreign to him. With no answers, his brothers no more, and the Elders gone, he despaired.

  When the darkness of night moved across the great waters of the Atlantic to envelop the shores of America he reached out with his powers. Stretching them to the limit of his abilities he searched for another like himself. Like all his previous attempts, there was nothing. He was alone in this world.

  The human blood he’d ingested had revived him, but he needed the divine blood of the Lynea to bring him into his full powers. Anson thought of Audrey, the little human woman-child who’d helped him in Australia. She’d offered him a place in California. From this height, he could see the tiny beacons of life spread out across the world. Each Other’s presence was visible to him, with most living in the vast area known as North America. Sadly, he looked back at the sparseness of Others to the east, so few, and so far between. If I’m to find my Lynea, she must be waiting for me in the land of Audrey’s birth.

  Anson dove down from the sky, skimming along the ocean waters, reveling in the warmth of the sun, and dropped down to walk the streets in the early morning light. He filled his lungs with the fresh air and watched the humans go about their morning routines. How different these streets were from the ones in Asia and Africa. There, around every corner, someone crossed themselves or shuffled off to hide from him. Why had they seen him as evil? It angered him, their ignorance at what he’d sacrificed that they might live.

  Halfway across a high arching bridge a truck stopped to offer him a ride. A man reached across and opened the passenger door. “Where ya heading?” he asked.

  I don’t know, Anson thought. Before he could think of something, the man waved him in.

  “You must be a backpacker from Europe. We get you up here all the time. Hop on in, I’ll take you to the other side.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Your accent’s good, better than most. Sometimes they don’t even speak English. My dad gets all undone about that, saying if you come here you should speak something of our language, but I don’t think so. I mean, if I went over to Spain, I wouldn’t know a lick of Spanish.” He shifted the truck into a higher gear. “I’d like to see Spain, though. The women.” He let out a long whistle. “They got something in the water over there.”

  Anson nodded, and ignored most of the man’s chatter until they’d crossed the bridge and were waiting at a stop light.

  The man shoved his hand out halfway across the space between them. “My name’s Roy.”

  Anson offered his hand and felt the decency and kindness of the human. If the world was populated with more like Roy there would be a lot less war. Like Audrey, the man had a low-lying sadness about him. When Roy resumed driving down the road, he saw the man wince when shifting the truck.

  “I can take you as far as Virginia Beach.” Roy quickly eyed him, obviously waiting for a response, but when he didn’t get one he continued, “Where you going?” Before he could respond, Roy filled in the space for him. “Oh, you must be going to Washington. Yep, most of you do, like
to see the capital and all. I went on a school trip. Most everything looks smaller in person.”

  Anson hadn’t been going there, but now it seemed like a good idea. He could move from the east to the west and catch everything in between. If he could get within a few hundred kilometers of a Lynea, he should be able to catch her scent. “I need to rent a car.”

  Roy pointed out through the windshield. “Right through there is the best way to see America.”

  Anson went back to his own thoughts while Roy rambled on. He stopped the old truck in the rental car parking lot. Anson reached out and touched Roy’s knee, the one that was causing him the pain.

  “Ah, man, I’m not into that. I mean you’re a nice looking dude, but I don’t swing that way.”

  Anson caught his eyes and tranced him. “What do you want?” he asked.

  “Right now?”

  “What do you want most in life?”

  “To play professional football,” Roy immediately blurted out.

  “Why don’t you?”

  “I had a full ride to USC.” Roy said that as if it should mean something. “But then on the last play of my high school career I blew out my knee.”

  “You want your knee healed,” Anson said.

  Roy burst into tears. “Yes,” he replied. “I could walk on a team, get some playing time. It’s not too late.”

  So much pain, Anson thought. It took energy to heal the young man, but he couldn’t leave him without helping. When he was done, he tranced their brief conversation from the man’s mind. Just before he lifted the trance, he decided to give him a little extra. “You’re a good man, Roy, don’t ever forget that.” He opened the door, stepped out and turned to close it behind him. “Thanks for the lift.”

  “Anytime. Maybe I’ll see you on the way back.” Roy waved and left him.

  Krieger

  “You’re sure of this?” Krieger asked Dr. Caanan.

  “Absolutely. After I read the announcement, I called King Beline’s royal medicus. She confirmed that Eva is dead.”