by Karen Duvall
“I think I know,” Xenia said. “Without having talked to the others I’m betting they’re all orphans like me. Am I right?”
Each of them nodded. Okay, that made sense. No family ties, meaning no awkward questions from loved ones about how they lived their lives, and it lessened the chance for a division of loyalties. I sensed these girls’ need to belong. It takes one to know one.
“It’s not like we joined a cult,” the blonde Dale said. “We’ve had a telepathic connection to the Arelim since birth. No one understands us like they do.”
I nodded. “True enough. How old are you?”
They all said at same time, “Twenty.”
And less than a year away from meeting their guardians. Interesting.
“How do you feel about having a child destined for knighthood?” I asked.
“I feel honored,” said the girl with the Peter Pan haircut. “It’s my destiny.”
I frowned, but quickly sobered. No sense in giving away my personal opinions on the matter. Battling gargoyles and dealing with neurotic sorcerers is not a destiny I’d have chosen for myself. As far as feeling honored to carry a halfling child fathered by an angel I didn’t love? I’d just as soon be sterile. However, my life had been different from these girls’. My cynicism was justified. I slid a sideways glance at Xenia, who looked sad beyond reason, and I wondered at the source of her grief. Perhaps I wasn’t the only one with reservations about Hatchet knight traditions. Misery loved company.
A girl with bouncing red curls who could put Shirley Temple to shame said, “Let’s see a demonstration.”
Rusty scowled. “A demonstration of what?”
“Your superpowers,” she said.
The others applauded and nodded with enthusiasm.
“Mine’s a bit hard to demonstrate,” I told them.
“You’re Aurora’s granddaughter, right?” one of them asked. “So you have her powers. Super senses are awesome.”
And sometimes annoying, I thought. They had no idea how intrusive it could be and the amount of concentration required to keep it in check. “Okay, I’ll bite.
“Dale, you need to eat something. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” I told her.
“You can tell what I had for breakfast?”
“Or what you didn’t have, as the case may be,” I said. “Your dental hygiene is excellent, by the way.”
My nostrils flared as I caught a whiff of Xenia’s breath. “Xenia! Lay off the booze, especially before five. Alcohol blunts the senses and you need to be sharp at all times.”
Xenia flushed and her jaw dropped. “Chalice, please don’t tell Aurora.”
“I won’t if you promise not to sneak whiskey from Zeke’s liquor cabinet again.”
Her head bobbed as if perched on a spring.
“Rusty?” Dale asked. “Will you show us your ability?”
Rusty stood, her eyes revealing her pride for what she could do. And she should be proud. Controlling fire was a powerful talent she put to good use. There was no doubt she’d saved thousands of lives not to mention forests and buildings from going up in flames.
She stared hard at the candle on a coffee table. Seconds passed and nothing happened. Scowling, she cupped her hands in front of her, then clapped. Still nothing.
“Rusty, what’s wrong?” Xenia asked.
Eyes glazed, Rusty glared at me and said, “My ability. It’s gone.”
I felt my heart lodge in my throat. Some charms and cursed objects were known to exact payment for the help they offered. In this case, I believed the Viking horn of breath had taken Rusty’s ability in exchange for giving back her life. “Are you sure it’s completely gone?” I asked her.
“You’re the one who stuck that disgusting horn in my mouth,” Rusty said, her tone close to a growl. “You tell me.”
“It could be temporary.” At least I hoped so.
“I thought you knew all there was to know about charms and curses.” Rusty gazed down at her students, eyebrows raised. “That’s why you’re here, right? To teach these girls how to defend themselves with magical objects?”
Of course, that’s why I was here. I didn’t appreciate Rusty’s sarcasm, but I understood her shock at the sudden loss of something so important. I imagined it felt the same as losing an arm or a leg. A vital piece of yourself suddenly gone.
Dale’s eyes widened. “What happened? What’s going on?”
“Nothing much.” Rusty’s eyes hardened to marbles. “I died the other day and Chalice brought me back to life.”
There was a collective gasp from the little group.
I didn’t defend, object or deny. Rusty needed to vent, and if that involved mocking me, I could take it. Up to a point. I was big enough to accept responsibility, but I didn’t want these squires to get the wrong idea. Not about me, necessarily, but about the charms they’d be using to protect themselves.
“Apparently there’s a price for resurrection, huh, Chalice? Kind of too late for buyer’s remorse though,” Rusty said.
Xenia shook her head and the rest of the girls blinked, looking confused.
“I didn’t know the horn of breath had strings attached. I’ll fix it.”
“Fix it?” Rusty asked, her forehead puckered with an ugly frown.
“There has to be a way to return your powers.” All the girls stared at me and I threw up my hands. “I still have the horn that gave you your breath back. The key must be there somewhere.” Or so I wanted to believe.
Rusty struggled to compose herself, but I saw her hands were shaking. “You’ve been nothing but trouble since the day you got here, Chalice.”
I stood from the chair I’d been sitting in, my muscles bunched with tension. “Prescribing charms is still new for me. Give me a break.”
“You don’t deserve a break.” Rusty stepped closer to me. She stood at least a head taller and I had to crane my neck to meet her glare. “You’re a menace to the order. You’d have made a much better gargoyle than you do a knight.”
I was starting to get angry. “I’ve vowed to do right by the order. I’m here to help, and I’m here to fulfill my mother’s legacy.”
Rusty’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “By letting your family’s bloodline die after nine centuries?”
To say that barb didn’t hurt would be a lie. “I honor my mother and the knighthood with my life.”
“There’s no honor in destroying a lineage.” Rusty put her hands on her hips. “You’d rather bear disgusting baby gargoyles than be the blessed vessel for a future Hatchet knight.”
Heat engulfed my neck and I knew my tattoo would have been on fire by now had I not broken the curse it symbolized. I gulped air to try cooling off. “I know you’re upset, Rusty. You don’t mean what you’re saying.”
She snorted. “Like hell I don’t.”
We glowered at each other and from the corner of my eye I saw Xenia hop to her feet and rush from the room.
Rusty’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe what I heard about your mother was true.”
If she said one bad thing about my mother I’d make sure she lost more than just her powers. I felt the weight of the knife sheathed between my shoulder blades.
“What was that sorcerer’s name?” Rusty’s eyes rolled as if she tried to think of the answer. “Oh, yeah. Gavin. The Vyantara’s head honcho and your mother’s lover.”
I sprang at her.
It was totally impulsive and completely driven by some primal part of my brain. Anything having to do with my mother was a sensitive issue. To hear the name of that sociopathic sorcerer and my mother in the same breath sent me over the edge. I couldn’t stop myself.
The knife was in my hands so fast I barely registered my fingers wrapping around the hilt and my thumb springing the latch to pop the blade.
Lucky for me Rusty was just as fast. She kicked my hand so hard the knife went flying, the blade lodging firmly into the wall behind me. A good thing no one was standing there or they’d be shish kebab right no
w.
Her hands fisted my short hair and I did the same to hers. I wrapped her long tresses around my fingers and yanked her down to floor, where we rolled around like a couple of TV wrestlers. I focused on holding her head away from me so she couldn’t bite my ear off. She came pretty close a couple of times.
“What the hell is going on in here?” my grandmother yelled as she stormed into the room and grabbed me by the arms. She tried pulling me away from Rusty, who had no intention of letting go.
Now it was three of us on the floor with my grandmother on top trying desperately to pull us apart. I was expecting the water hose at any second. But instead it was my grandfather who broke up the brawl and sent both Rusty and I sprawling to opposite sides of the room.
“Enough!” he shouted. “What’s wrong with you two? Now’s not the time for fighting.” He glowered down at the two of us as we lay gasping and bleeding and literally growling in rage. “Stop it, both of you.”
A sudden bright light flared in the middle of the room and the silver veil rippled like a lake disturbed by skipping stones. An enormous angel emerged, his white hair floating around him in graceful waves that looked peaceful and terrifying at the same time.
I glanced over at Rusty, whose eyes had gone wide and her face drained of color. She looked scared, and I knew for a fact it wasn’t me she was afraid of. This angel frightened her.
“No,” she said quietly. “Please, Harachel, I promise to be good. I won’t fight anymore.” She tried to scoot backward on the slick wooden floor, but the angel easily reached down and grabbed both her arms to haul her to her feet.
He wasn’t exactly gentle about it and despite my rage a few minutes earlier, the instinct to protect my sister made a sudden and unexpected appearance. “Leave her alone,” I said. “Can’t you see she doesn’t want you touching her?”
“What she wants does not matter,” the angel said, his deep voice strong enough to make the pictures on the wall shudder in their frames. “She needs to calm herself. I am her guardian and I will help her do that.”
I just bet you will. I wasn’t sure why I didn’t trust him. He was supposed to be one of the good guys, but then again, Aydin was assumed to be a bad one. It’s best not to judge a book, or an angel or gargoyle, by its cover.
I prepared to stand and felt a firm but gentle hand clutch my elbow and guide me to my feet. Rafe gave me a stern look, though his eyes held a deeper understanding of what I sensed. He felt it, too. My skin went cold. He jerked a warning nod and I held my tongue.
The angel Harachel pulled Rusty into his arms and lifted her like she weighed no more than a rag doll. If he ever dared treat her like one he’d be hearing from me. Turning to face the veil, he slipped through it and the shimmering surface vanished as if it had never been there.
The room became quiet as a tomb.
My grandmother sighed and pressed her hand against her forehead. “You girls gave me a migraine.”
“Sorry,” I said, aware that I’d been apologizing a lot lately.
Aurora shook her head. “It’s fine, Chalice. That fight was bound to happen sooner or later. Rusty has been jealous of you since the day she heard how you broke your curse and killed that gargoyle.”
“Can we hear the story now?” one of the squires asked.
I’d totally forgotten about the squires. I could only imagine what they must be thinking.
“Honey, I don’t think Chalice is up to it right now,” Aurora told her. “Class is over. You’re all dismissed for the day.”
While watching the women disperse, I touched my lip and winced, then saw the blood on my fingers. I didn’t remember Rusty hitting me. It all happened so fast.
“Let me see.” Aurora leaned over me to study the top of my head. She whistled. “Oh, dear. I’ll have to remind Rusty to cut her nails. She raked you pretty good.”
As soon as she said it my head began to hurt. I’d be healed by morning, but that did nothing for me now. I wanted aspirin. And a shower. And a nap.
“You’re not off the hook, young lady,” Aurora said as she released my head and backed up a step. “You must learn to control yourself. You’re dangerous with a knife.”
I stared down at my feet. “I know I need to work on my self-control. Rusty pushed my buttons and I pushed back. It won’t happen again.”
“I know you mean well, dear, but if you’re anything like your mother, it will happen again.” She held me by the chin and gazed into my eyes. “Work harder than your mother did to restrain yourself. Her impulses were what got her killed. I don’t want the same to happen to you.”
I started to say something, but she abruptly turned and walked away, her steps solid and determined. She meant what she said. And so did I.
nine
I COULDN’T GET RUSTY OFF MY MIND. AN entire day had passed and she had yet to return from her trip through the silver veil. She wouldn’t be in trouble if I had kept my temper. Maybe Rafe had some pointers on how I could do that.
Natalie continued to sleep, but my grandmother had managed to spoon some soup and high-protein milk shakes into her. She’d also taken on the unpleasant duties of diaper and linen changing. The woman was a saint. A pang of pride made my eyes sting and I blinked. I’d become far too emotional lately, which was out of character for me. Six months ago I could block my feelings, but my world was different now. I finally had something, and several someones, to feel deeply about.
“You need to talk to me?” Rafe asked as he walked into my room.
He had heard my thoughts and that shouldn’t have surprised me, but it always did. I should be grateful. But I appreciated him more when my resentment toward his attitude about Aydin didn’t irritate the hell out of me.
I sat on my bed with my back slouched against the wall, knees pulled to my chest and arms hugging my shins. I gazed up at him and said, “What’s going on with Rusty?”
He glanced at the foot of the bed. “May I?”
I nodded.
He sat and turned slightly to face me. “She’s being counseled by her guardian.”
I frowned. “I don’t trust that guy.”
“It’s none of your business.”
“I’m worried he’ll hurt her.”
Rafe shook his head, a lock of perfect blond hair falling over one eyebrow. “He will not. But Harachel is strict and demands stellar behavior. Maybe I should be more demanding of you as well.”
I suppressed a growl and sat up straighter. “Don’t even think about it.”
A small smile tilted up the corners of his mouth. “I wouldn’t dare.”
Smart man. “So why are you so different?”
“I’m not.”
Rafe stood and stepped to the window to gaze out at the night, which was finally clear of snow flurries. Stars glittered against the inky darkness, which made Rafe’s silhouette even more pronounced. “Angels of the Arelim are as different from each other as you humans are. We have our good points and our bad ones.”
“You’re angels,” I said. “You’re supposed to be the epitome of goodness.”
He chuckled. “Says who?”
“Says Christmas.”
He laughed harder. “You watch too much television.”
“I know.” I laughed, too. “So bad angels become fallen ones?”
“Sometimes.” He turned toward me so the window was at his back. “Those who father children for the Hatchet knights definitely do, unless they choose to have their wings clipped so that they can become human. All angels have a choice.”
“And the fallen ones? What choices do they have?”
He hesitated before saying, “I don’t know much about them.”
I wished he did, because I wanted to know more about my father. Barachiel had helped me escape the Vyantara fatherhouse, and I considered that a good deed. If all the Fallen were evil, my father never would have done what he did.
“I think it’s fair to say the Fallen serve their own interests, whatever those may be.” Rafe a
pproached my bed again. “Is that all you wanted to know?”
“Yes,” I said, then leaned forward. “I mean no. I’d like you to teach me self-control.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Like how to stop myself from acting out my anger,” I explained. “You helped me learn to balance my senses so they won’t take me over and I was hoping you could do the same for my temper.”
He rubbed his chin and studied me. “Perhaps. But only on one condition.”
Conditions made me nervous. “Depends on what it is.”
“Fair enough.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Chalice, all I ask is that you never shut me out again.”
“Even when you insult the man I love?” Though I had to admit I’d acted childish. My emotions were balanced on a knife’s edge and Rafe had pushed me over. I’d meant to teach him a lesson, but he was supposed to be my teacher. I could learn a lot from him.
His jaw muscles tightened and his eyes narrowed, but he expressed the same self-control that I wanted for myself. “Yes, even then.”
I sighed and said, “I’ll do my best.”
* * *
“Quin!” I shouted when I greeted him at the door.
“Hey, you.” He gathered me in his arms for a hug. “Long time no see.”
It had only been a few weeks, but he was right. It felt like ages. “I know. I’ve missed you.”
Quin grinned, his bespectacled eyes bright with optimism and his sandy hair sticking up in a stylish cowlick. That was new. He was a couple years older than me and quite British. I’d first met him on a kidnapping assignment when I was still working for the Vyantara. He was the one I’d been assigned to kidnap but, when I’d wound up saving his life instead, we’d become allies.
“I missed you, too.” He gave me a quick squeeze and let me go. “So are you all settled in?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes and no. I think I’ve already worn out my welcome.” I told him everything that had happened over the past few days, from the burned-down farmhouse and forest fire to Natalie’s brush with death and then the awful fight I’d had with Rusty. “Now I need to redeem myself.”
“Let’s see if there’s anything I can do to help.” He led the way to the storage room that held Aydin’s collection of charms. He dug into his jacket pocket and came out with a key, which he deftly plugged into the hole beneath the doorknob. But he didn’t have to turn it. The door swung open by itself. “That’s odd.”