WarriorsApprentice

by Alysh Ellis

  “I’m trying,” Judie replied, her knuckles clenched white on the steering wheel. The motor whined and the speed crept up, but still the miles seemed to pass with agonizing slowness.

  She cast quick looks at Huon but his eyes remained shut. Behind her, Tybor leaned tensely forward in his seat. She met his eyes in the rearview mirror. His expression of concern exactly reflected her own worry.

  She pulled out to pass a slower-moving car and Huon stirred. He turned his head to look out at the striated rocks rising up on either side of them. “The surface world is beautiful,” he muttered, then his eyes closed and he sank down, his head lolling and bumping up against the window.

  “Tybor!” Judie shouted. “We have to help him!”

  “There’s nothing we can do. Keep driving,” he ordered. “We have to get to the portal. I have to get him home.”

  Judie pushed her foot harder onto the accelerator, wringing every ounce of speed she could from the borrowed vehicle.

  After five and a half hours, near the Baden-Baden exit, Judy pulled into a service station. “We have to stop. We need fuel. I’ll be as quick as I can, I promise.”

  She pulled up to the pumps and turned to Huon. His pale face was still, no flicker of movement from behind his closed eyelids. She scurried to the back of the car and began to fill the tank. Suddenly Tybor surged out of the car, jerked open the passenger door and dragged Huon out.

  “What are you doing?” Judie yelled, shutting off the fuel pump and leaving the handle dangling in the filler port.

  Tybor didn’t respond, just strode on, carrying Huon’s unconscious body.

  Judie followed them behind the cement block building toward a small park, with grass and trees and a few picnic tables. “What are you doing?”

  “Ever since we arrived in Venice,” Tybor panted, “We’ve been in contact only with manmade material—concrete, shaped stone, streets, houses, the train and now the car. Huon has had no contact with the earth.”

  “I don’t understand,” Judie said, struggling to keep up even though she was unburdened and Tybor carried Huon clasped in his arms like a child.

  “The Dvalinn thrive on their connection to the earth,” Tybor stated.

  “Yes. But you said that Huon can’t access his powers so—”

  “Not properly, no,” Tybor cut her off. “But he is Dvalinn, and even without his powers he might be able to absorb some strength from the earth.”

  They reached the little patch of green and Tybor dropped to his knees, gently laying his burden down, pulling Huon’s shirt off, exposing him to the grass beneath him and the sun above.

  “I don’t know if it will work, but we have to try something.”

  He stood between Huon and the service station, cutting off any curious onlookers’ view, standing guard, his legs spread, arms folded, face set in a forbidding glare.

  Judie dropped to her knees beside Huon, and Tybor spared her a quick glance. “Don’t touch him and don’t cast your shadow on him.”

  She nodded. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Just wait.” His frown deepened. “You might want to do something about the car, though.”

  She turned back and followed the direction of his gaze and let out a yelp. “I forgot.”

  She stood up to scurry back to where an irate motorist and a puzzled service station employee were checking out the car. She hastily paid for the fuel and drove the car away from the pump and closer to where Tybor stood.

  By the time she returned, Tybor’s shoulders had dropped a little and the tight line of his lips had loosened. There was a flicker of movement behind Huon’s eyelids. Another minute later and they lifted, revealing dazed blue eyes.

  “Wass happening? Are we there?”

  “Not yet,” Tybor replied, his voice gentler than Judie had ever heard it. “We still have a long way to go, but if we stop every so often and let you connect to the Earth, I think you might make it.”

  Putting one hand behind him, Huon struggled to get up, but Tybor pushed him back down again. “You need to stay there for a bit longer. Then I’ll carry you back to the car.”

  “I can walk,” Huon protested, but Judie suspected it was more bravado than fact.

  “Doesn’t matter whether you can or not,” Tybor said. “You aren’t going to.”

  They waited around for a few more minutes, then Tybor said, “That’s as good as he can get without his powers.”

  He picked Huon up and walked back to the car. Judie snatched up Huon’s shirt and waited while Tybor settled Huon on the backseat and covered him with coats he took from the trunk.

  “We’ll have to stop to do that more often than we need to refuel but it can’t be helped,” Tybor said. “It will make the journey longer, but it’s the only way we’ll get Huon there.”

  “I’m sorry…” Huon began.

  “You shut up and sleep,” Tybor ordered. “Conserve what strength you have.”

  For once Huon didn’t argue, just obeyed and slid down with a sigh.

  Before the sun went down they made another stop at a little roadside clearing. This time they were able to carry Huon a little farther away and, with Judie standing between him and the road, Tybor removed all his clothing.

  Huon’s body, still lean and beautiful, looked frail and fragile as if some force from within had departed, leaving it diminished. A shiver ran down Judie’s spine and a hard lump settled in her stomach. Tybor’s face, as rigid as the masks they’d left behind in the street stalls of Venice, his gray skin, the twin grooves carved beside his tight lips, told her what she already feared.

  Huon was dying.

  * * * * *

  Night had fallen by the time they reached Belgium. The fuel gauge showed empty and Judie pulled into yet another service station, this one inside the town limits, surrounded by brick buildings, cobblestones and concrete. Useless for Huon’s needs but unavoidable. She grabbed her purse and shut the door.

  “I’ll be as quick as I can. I have to go to the toilet and I need coffee.”

  Tybor looked at Huon, who stirred and nodded. “I’ll be okay.”

  The big man got out of the car and accompanied Judie into the building. A blue bug-zapper light hung at the door. A moth, lured to the bright lights at the center, flew into the insect-control device just as the two travelers passed under it. There was a flash of blue light, an electronic sizzle and an arcing crackle. Before she had time to realize what was happening, Tybor grabbed her and shoved her behind him while he stood poised on the balls of his feet, muscles tense, knees bent in combat stance, a ball of energy already out of his pocket and held loosely in his hand, his other holding her firmly in place.

  “What the fuck?” A motorist who had followed them into the complex stopped and stepped back rapidly to avoid crashing into them.

  Judie squirmed and wriggled, trying to get free. After a moment Tybor’s stance relaxed and he loosened his grip.

  “It’s safe,” Tybor said.

  Judie slid to the side, then looked around. The motorist was not the only person staring at them. In the café, the three or four other bleary-eyed patrons watched the incident with expressions that ranged from puzzled to concerned to very wary.

  Judie made a big play of dusting herself down. “Sorry, sorry. I stumbled and my friend managed to catch me.”

  She gave what she hoped sounded like an embarrassed laugh and flashed an apologetic smile in as many directions as she could. She had no idea if anyone in the café spoke English, but her pantomime must have worked because shoulders dropped, eyes looked away and the low murmur of normal conversation resumed.

  “Judie, I…” Tybor began to explain, dropping the uncompressed ball of chemicals harmlessly into a trashcan, but Judie shushed him with a gesture.

  She turned to the counter but said over her shoulder, “If nothing else, it achieved one thing. I don’t feel tired and sleepy anymore. I’ve got enough adrenaline surging through my system to keep me awake for hours.” Judie smi
led at Tybor. “Thank you for trying to protect me.”

  “If anything happens to you, Huon dies,” Tybor muttered.

  “I don’t think that’s the only reason you put yourself between me and danger,” Judie argued. “I think you are more protective than you want to admit. I think you care. About me and Huon.”

  “Believe what you want,” Tybor snapped. “It doesn’t matter to me.” And without another word he stalked back to the car. Judie sipped a cup of hot and bitter black coffee as she followed him.

  In the small car, Tybor seemed to smolder, like a subterranean fire, needing only the application of oxygen to leap into life. She kept her eyes on the road and watched the lights slip by, mile after monotonous mile, in silence. An occasional grunt and the sound of soft snores behind her told her Huon still slept.

  Her back ached. She shifted on her seat, trying to ease the ache tingling in her buttocks, numbness paradoxically sharp and painful radiating down her legs.

  “Lean forward.” Tybor’s voice, breaking the silence after so long, made her jump.

  “What?”

  “Lean forward,” Tybor ordered. “I’ll massage your neck and shoulders.”

  Like a well-trained soldier, Judie obeyed. Tybor’s large hand slipped behind her and his fingers dug into her flesh hard enough to cause pain, but it was an exquisite ache that unknotted tight muscles, loosened nerves that had spasmed and forced the blood to flow again. She rolled her shoulders and sighed.

  “That feels wonderful.”

  “Mmph.” His rhythm didn’t falter.

  Relaxation spread outward from the point where he kneaded, the softening making her limbs feel heavy and taking the pain away.

  His hands withdrew at last and she felt like weeping at the loss. Then she jumped, and the car veered for a moment before she straightened it out again.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Lean toward the door,” he said. “You’re still hurting.”

  “Yes, but…”

  She hurt all right, but the pain was overwhelmed by the feeling of his hand cupping her butt, squeezing and massaging and inching underneath her to do the same to her upper thigh where it flattened against the seat.

  “You have to drive. I can’t help you with that. I can ease your pain.” While he spoke, Tybor’s hand continued to flex underneath her.

  Judie rolled to one side, resting her shoulder on the door. The numbness receded and the hot streaks of pain searing down her leg faded.

  Tybor withdrew his hand and pushed himself back into the seat. “That’s enough. It’s too dangerous,” he said, and Judie didn’t know if he meant too dangerous for driving or something else, and she didn’t have the courage to ask.

  The silence closed in again. In the dark, with the constant glare of red taillights ahead of her and the flash of headlights in the rear vision mirror, her eyes grew dry and gritty. She rubbed at them and yawned.

  “Night driving is hard.”

  “My people spend our lives in darkness lit only by artificial light,” Tybor’s voice whispered out of the darkness. “To me, the night feels safer, more like home.” His sigh sounded too soft for a man of his rock-hard nature. “I’m not meant for the surface world. I’m a warrior, too old and set in my ways. I’m not meant for light, and ease and comfort.”

  Slowly, tentatively, because she feared breaking the tiny gossamer thread of connection, Judie replied, “You could learn. If you wanted to. Huon loves it here.”

  “Huon is different.” Anger or some other emotion made his voice tight.

  “Huon is Dvalinn, like you.”

  “Huon is not like me.” The words rang with denial. “He is strong, adaptable and his courage comes from within, not forced on him by years of duty and training.”

  “You…” Judie stopped and swallowed past a lump in her throat. “I know you believe you don’t feel love, but you’re wrong.” She spared a moment’s attention from the road to look at him compassionately. “I’ve seen the way you look at him, with your eyes full of longing, longing that you use all of your considerable strength to suppress.”

  He made an inarticulate sound and she paused and waited, but he said nothing. She took her courage in her hands and told him the truth. “You cannot bear for him to die. You love him.”

  “No.” Tybor’s anguished whisper detonated in the quiet atmosphere of the car like a bomb. “I don’t love him. I can’t love—not Huon, not you.”

  Surprise made her stiffen. “Me? We’re talking about Huon.”

  “Why not talk about you?” Tybor sounded rough and aggressive. “If you’re so damn sure what I feel for Huon is love, what is it I feel for you?”

  Her heart began to beat a rapid tattoo and her hands clenched around the steering wheel until the knuckles turned white. “I don’t know what you feel for me, Tybor. Sometimes you are protective, I know you feel lust, but sometimes I think you hate me.”

  “Lust, yes.” The words gusted out on a heavy breath.

  He shifted in the seat. When he spoke again, his voice sounded distant, as if more than the gap between the seats separated them. “I used to visit the cabal of occult intellectuals in Venice. I never understood the importance even these academics, philosophers, challengers of traditional thinking put on emotions. They talked about the role of love and fear and sorrow in the human psyche. I listened to them, but I felt so superior. I subjected their foibles to my dispassionate judgment and found them wanting.” He turned his head and looked out of the window at the darkened landscape. “And now I fear I am as foolish as they were.”

  “Because of Huon?” she asked.

  For a long moment Tybor said nothing. “I would die to save Huon,” he said, his voice rough with pain. “The thought of living in the world when Huon has gone out of it is…intolerable.” He swallowed audibly. “The Dvalinn live a long, long time and I…” His voice cracked, the sound shocking from one so hard, so self-contained.

  “We aren’t going to let Huon die,” Judie whispered. “You and I will keep him alive.” She turned her head and looked at him. “I don’t think your life will be the same, but that doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”

  She drew in a deep breath. Now was the time to be honest, to tell him what she really wanted, what she felt. To tell him she wanted Huon and him, alive and in her life in whatever way she could get them. To tell him that her life would never be the same either, and that she had no more idea of how to deal with it than he did.

  Before she could speak, Tybor said, “What you and I and Huon have done changes nothing.” His words twisted in her chest like a blade. “Humans are still our enemy.”

  “You hate me?” Judie’s disappointment tasted bitter. She had thought him above that, thought she had proven her worth above any prejudice he had against humans.

  “I don’t hate you, Judie,” he spoke somberly. “But I won’t let this lust I feel blind me to the truth.” In the dark cocoon of the car, his voice sounded distant. “I have lived over eight hundred years. If I’m not killed in battle I can expect to live another eight hundred. Huon is the same.”

  “I don’t understand,” she whispered.

  “How long will you live, Judie? Eighty years, ninety, one hundred?”

  “If I’m lucky.”

  “I know what you want from me, from Huon,” he said gruffly. “But you haven’t thought about what it would feel like to grow old and wrinkled while we remained young. How would your emotions deal with that? Would it make you happy?” By now his voice had grown louder, full of tension. “If you had your way and Huon and I learned to love you, your life span would be a mere moment in our time. We would have to watch you age and die. You would be gone and Huon and I would be left to deal with the loss.”

  “There must be a way…” The words broke as she said them.

  “How can there be?” The sound and fury died away, leaving only the quiet throb of despair. “Even if I believed in love, I wouldn’t give my heart and soul when I know f
or how short a time I would have you.”

  Judie gulped down the pain that speared into her like a crystal-cold stiletto. “If you cannot let yourself love me, love Huon. Someone should be happy.”

  “How would that make either of us happy?” The pain in his voice ripped at her heart. Here in the darkness, the quiet broken only by the humming of the engine and the low murmur of his words. “I have lived my life as a soldier, fighting to protect the Dvalinn way of life. To love Huon, I would have to turn my back on all I am, all I have ever been, and be an outcast from my own people.”

  “Like Huon has been most of his life,” Judie responded. “Yet when the Dvalinn had need of him, he responded. You can change—the Dvalinn can change. You’ve proven your bravery in battle. Now prove it again. If you don’t act, if you don’t do something about this tension that simmers between you, then you are a coward—and a fool. You don’t want me because we will have too short a time together and you won’t take Huon because you are afraid of what that might mean.” She thumped the steering wheel, her anger and her frustration at her inability to make him understand making her inarticulate. The words she needed to make it clear to him refused to come. “Can’t you see? You could have something but you keep choosing the path that gives you nothing. How can that be better?”

  “Nothing?” he sneered. “I had you. Do you count that as nothing?”

  “I count what I had…have with you as something amazing and precious. You’re the one who insists it was purely sexual gratification and nothing more. You’re not being honest with yourself and you’re getting tangled up in lies you don’t believe yourself.” She drew a breath and glanced into the rearview mirror.

  Anything else she’d intended to say fled from her mind. Behind them, approaching at speed, were the flashing blue lights of a police car.

  “Oh shit! They’re after us.”

  Tybor swiveled around and stared out of the back window. “Oh, fuck!”

  “Wha…?” Huon’s sleepy voice muttered. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s the police,” Judie whispered. “They’ve found us.”

  “Go faster,” Huon urged.

  “In this?” Judie laughed scornfully. “The Belgian police use Porsche 911s on the highways. We’ve got no chance. I’ll have to pull over.”