Chosen (The Last Guardians Book 1)

by C. V. Gregorchuk

  Mia sounded like a bull in a china shop, crashing through the bushes and snapping branches underfoot. She had only just stopped to wonder what kind of animals might live in these woods besides birds and squirrels when a piercing howl cut through the night air, seemingly right behind her. Her blood turned to ice as more voices joined the first.

  “Oh shit!”

  Mia cast about in a primal panic; I can’t stay down here The wolves started another chorus this time sounding much closer. Didn’t they only do that when they locked on to their prey?

  “Shit, shit, shit!”

  Mia had no idea how she got into the tree. It must have been the adrenaline that gave her the strength to scale the trunk and grab hold of the lowest branch. Weak as she was and by no means athletic, Mia had somehow managed to haul herself from one branch to another, climbing until she’d found a limb thick enough to sit on. She perched on the branch resting her back against the rough bark of the tree. Her chest rose and fell with her rapid breathing, and her heart felt like it might explode. Mia pressed the back of her head against the tree and stared up into darkness. She made herself breathe through her nose and willed her racing pulse to slow.

  The eerie cry of a single wolf sounded in the distance- the pack had moved on. Instead of relief, Mia felt a fresh pool of fear well up inside her. She literally could have died. Mia started to shake with shock. What had she been thinking, crashing through the woods in the dark? She was lucky to be alive.

  Mia pressed her head harder against the rough bark, she had no other option now but to stay put. Her odds were better in the tree anyway.

  The pang of hunger resurfaced, a guarantee she would never fall asleep. Mia had never known this kind of hunger before; it was as if her starving stomach, tired of going unheard, had decided to feed itself by eating her insides. Mia crossed her legs under the branch and settled herself against the tree trunk, the bark biting into her shoulders and the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. She crossed her arms over her chest. This night was going to suck.

  The footprints were small and unclear in the damp earth. Vander had stumbled upon them by chance in the early morning of the third day of his search. He’d been filling his water skin from the ice-cold stream flowing through the glen when he’d spotted them there in the mud. He sat back on his haunches and took a long draw from the skin, keeping his eyes trained on the prints in the mud.

  Vander wiped his mouth with the back of a hand and balanced his forearms on his knees. The prints belonged to the Chosen, of that he was sure but they were too small to belong to a man. Had Eldhor sent them a boy? He frowned and peered more closely at the depressions in the mud. The heel was well defined, pressed deep into the soft ground on the bank. He traced the outside edge of one foot with his eyes, following the line to the distinct pad and the small toes dug deep into the earth where the Chosen had leaned down to the sweet water.

  He got to his feet, scanning the forest floor for further evidence of the Chosen’s presence. He found it with little trouble. He, the boy, made a rather distinguishable trail through the undergrowth on the opposite side of the stream. There was no mistaking that this being was out of place in a bush environment. Vander splashed water from his waterskin onto his hand and rubbed the back of his neck. He was warm from his exertions. Even for an experienced woodsman traveling through the forest on foot was a tiring endeavor. This discovery had afforded him a much-needed respite, but now he needed to push on and find the boy.

  Chapter 16

  Mia jolted awake before she could slide off her perch into empty air. Mia jerked back from the edge, slamming her head into the tree. Adrenaline coursed through her veins and she blinked rapidly. Mia stared straight ahead. She’d fallen asleep despite her considerable discomfort and her every effort not to. It was pretty impressive even if she had nearly dropped out of the tree because of it.

  “I need to be more careful,” Mia scolded herself. Falling from this height would mean a few broken bones, maybe even a snapped neck and then what? She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the images that popped into her head. Mia froze, catching sight of something in her peripheral vision. Her pulse spiked as she picked out a shape in the foliage of the tree directly in front of her. Every hair on her body stood on end as the form remained stationary despite the light breeze blowing through the leaves around it.

  A hooded figure burst from its hiding place, crossing the short distance between the two trees in a single leap. As it caught itself on the branches of her tree, Mia threw herself sideways and fell. She felt the pull of gravity low in her belly and then she landed flat on her back, expelling the air from her lungs in a single ‘whoosh.’ Mia couldn’t move. She lay on her back, blinking up at the tree she’d been sitting in, unable to breathe. Her eyes watered and she gasped like a fish out of water.

  There was a heavy thump, and the sound of fluttering leaves as whatever chased her landed off to the side. Mia somehow found the energy to wrench herself over onto her stomach. She screamed in pain as the broken edges of her ribs grated together, but she couldn’t stop. Mia scrabbled for purchase in the carpet of leaves and started to crawl. Before she could get very far something hit her hard in the back of the head and Mia collapsed face first onto the ground.

  Vander stared at the unconscious girl lying face down on the forest floor and struggle to make sense of what he saw. A girl. A girl, not a boy as they’d thought. A weak, stupid girl from another world. He was rattled and out of breath as he watched her back rise and fall steadily. His eyes traveled from her prone figure up toward her perch high in the tree. What could she have been thinking in the split second before she’d thrown herself from the tree? It was the last thing he’d expected her to do.

  It was his fault, he knew, but she’d seen him, and he couldn’t risk her running off and getting lost. By the look of her, Vander didn’t think she would survive much longer in the woods. He should have alerted Orden the moment he’d found her; the shock of his discovery had stalled him. Vander had tracked the Chosen as the grey light of dawn had turned to day. He’d followed the meandering trail in wide circles through the forest growing more desperate with each passing minute. When it had disappeared without a trace, he was utterly bewildered. Vander had stood there, casting about in all directions searching for some sign of the boy and finding none. It made no sense- unless-

  After a brief moment of searching the canopy, his eyes had picked out the small, stockinged foot. With mounting disbelief his gaze had traveled over an ankle, pale flesh protruding from a large hole in the gauzy material and up a thin, shapely leg to the hem of a black skirt. A mess of auburn hair had hidden her face from view, but Vander had realized by then that he and Orden were wrong. This Chosen was female. The crushing disappointment remained with him now as he sheathed his dagger and knelt down on the leaf-strewn ground beside her. This girl, this small, weak looking girl who’d come from some unknown world was their last hope. Everything depended on this frail woman.

  Biting back his despair, Vander forced himself to turn the girl onto her back. He placed hesitant hands on her thin shoulders and twisted the girl over with surprising ease. A thick swatch of tangled hair fell across her face, and his fingers itched to brush it aside. Aware he was breaking all the rules, he did it. There were circles under her eyes the bruised color of plums. A thick fringe of lashes brushed the tops of her cheekbones. Her pale skin was almost translucent, stretched thin over the bones of her face. A scratch across one cheek wept tiny droplets of blood, and Vander ran the pad of one finger over it, making a red smear. The first thing he’d noticed as he’d watched her sleep in the tree was that she was beautiful, a fact made difficult to ignore as close as he was. The observation irritated him.

  Vander shook his head in consternation and roused himself. He had lingered here too long, the girl was injured and needed tending, but he could not risk seeing to her himself lest she wake. Orden would have his head as it was. With one last look at her sleeping face, her ful
l lips parted slightly, Vander scooped the girl into his arms. A quiet moan escaped her, but she didn’t wake, and he breathed a sigh of relief. She was light and fragile in his arms. A pang of regret went through him, and he scolded himself for striking her. He adjusted her so that her head rested solidly against his shoulder, then he turned for home, breaking into a smooth run.

  The first person he saw when he came into the yard was Breahn. Bent over at the waist, she clucked at the chickens while she threw feed to them. Breahn looked up at the sound of his footsteps and threw a hand up to shade her eyes. She jerked when she saw what Vander held in his arms.

  “Is that-”

  “Where’s Orden?” He asked, cutting her off.

  “He hasn’t returned yet, Vander what-”

  “Help me get her inside. Quickly!” Vander said when Breahn looked like she might have more questions.

  Without another word, Breahn whirled around, the ugly brown fabric of her dress spinning out behind her. She ran to the house and disappeared through the kitchen door. Vander paused to readjust the girl in his arms into a more comfortable position, then he followed Breahn.

  He stopped inside the empty kitchen where Breahn was rushing about clearing things from the table. “Where did you find her?” She asked, bewildered. “And how did she get past the wards?”

  “She’s the Chosen.”

  Breahn stopped with a plate and a wooden cup in her hands. She regarded him with eyes wide in disbelief. “But I thought-”

  “So did we all.” Vander said grimly. Disappointment gnawing at him.

  “Da’s not going to be pleased.” Breahn said, glancing at the girl.

  “I know.”

  A horse came galloping into the yard as if summoned by their talk. Raised voices reached them from the yard, and Breahn turned to the door. It was not long before Orden burst into the kitchen with Hanna close on his heels. He stopped abruptly upon seeing Vander; his eyes fixed on the girl in his arms. Hanna walked right into him, but Orden did not appear to notice.

  “She’s hurt,” Vander said, and Orden’s eyes switched to him. He felt a new surge of regret under the older man’s intense scrutiny.

  “What happened?” Orden asked pointedly. Vander could feel the anger rolling off him in waves.

  “I scared her out of a tree. Don’t look at me like that,” Vander said in response to the scowl that settled on Orden’s rough features, “it was an accident.”

  “Accident or not, she requires my attention because of it. Lay her on the table. Gently,” He ordered, refusing to meet Vander’s eye.

  Cheeks burning with chagrin, Vander did as commanded. Standing back, he was struck by how small she looked laid out in the center of the large table with her auburn hair spread out around her face. Hanna bumped past him and eased a pillow beneath the girl’s head. She turned and gave him a tight smile.

  “She’s waking,” Orden said stiffly, “Vander, make yourself scarce.”

  He lingered a second longer, unwilling to leave and not knowing why. But Orden’s tone brooked no argument, and he was forced to go, “I’ll be in the stables.” Vander said with one last look at the girl, and then he turned on his heel and walked out of the kitchen.

  Blurry faces hovered above her.

  Mia was lying on her back on a hard surface, a pillow wedged under her head for support. “Wh-where am I?” She struggled to form the words with a thick and heavy seeming tongue.

  “You are safe now.” A deep, accented voice answered and a man’s face came into focus. A thick growth of salt-and-pepper beard covered the lower half of his face. Slate grey eyes mesmerized her from beneath bushy brows, keeping her rooted to the spot as he placed a large, rough hand against her forehead.

  “What happened?” Mia asked, the last of the fog clearing from her head. Where was she and who was this person? “Where am I?”

  “This will be easier if you slept,” The man said in a low voice.

  “No, I don’t want-”

  “Sleep.”

  Mia closed her eyes.

  Vander pulled the straw over the grey hide of Orden’s horse in long strokes, trying his best to lose himself in the mindless task before turning mare out with the other horses in the pasture. His shoulders tensed, sensing Orden behind him before the other man spoke a word.

  “She suffered four broken ribs, a fractured shoulder, and more scrapes and cuts than I cared to count,” Orden said, placing a weathered hand on the mare’s rump disrupting Vander’s grooming. “I’ve healed her, and she’s resting now. We’ve put her up in your room. Hanna will gather your things and bring them here for you.”

  “When are we going to discuss the fact that she is a she?” Vander asked before Orden could go on behaving as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. He turned his head to look at the older man.

  Orden said nothing but removed his hand from the horse’s hide. He crossed thick arms over his chest and leaned against the stall. “Yes, well, it can’t be helped.” He met Vander’s eye, “What concerns me is that you felt it appropriate to ignore my warning. Why did you not alert me the moment you discovered the girl?”

  Vander dropped all pretense of grooming the mare and turned to face the man who’d raised him. “As you can probably imagine, I was rather preoccupied with the discovery that the Chosen we’ve been waiting for is a girl and not a man as we thought.” He said through clenched teeth, still not quite believing the twist of events.

  “I have no doubt you were preoccupied.” Orden’s grey eyes flashed the color of tempered steel, “You behaved like a fool and deliberately disobeyed the commandments you must abide by.”

  The two men stood glaring at each other, the air between them thick with tension. Vander knew he deserved to be chastised for his actions. He’d behaved foolishly in the woods, he knew that but hated to be scolded like a wayward child. It cost him a great deal to swallow his pride and apologize.

  “I am sorry,” he was the first to look away.

  “It is done,” Orden said, sounding tired. “You did not speak to her?”

  “No,” Vander sighed and felt the tightness in his shoulders ease. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, combing a few blonde strands out of his eyes.

  “Good,” Orden gave a curt nod. “Keep it that way until her training is complete.”

  “So you do intend to train her then?”

  “Of course I will train her,” Orden’s tone was impatient,“she may be a girl, but she is the Chosen,”

  “But she-”

  “I will do the duty appointed to me as will you when the time comes,” Orden said in a stern voice halting any further argument.

  Vander was quiet for a long moment, struggling.

  “I know your concern.” Orden said, his voice softening enough that Vander looked up from the ground, “It is my own.”

  “How can we hope to succeed?” Vander asked giving voice to his fear. He did not think this woman- no, this girl- possessed the strength to face the obstacles in their path.

  “I do not know.” Vander saw what it cost Orden to admit it. “I will do my best to prepare her. That is all I can do.”

  “Let us pray to Eldhor it will be enough,” Vander said and turned his attention to picking bits of forest out of the mare’s tangled mane.

  A heavy hand rested on his shoulder, and after a moment’s silence Orden spoke, “It has to be.”

  Chapter 17

  Mia woke, rising through the murky depths of sleep like a deep-sea diver returning to the surface.

  She breathed deeply and opened her eyes.

  “She’s awake. Run and fetch yer Da, quick.” The hushed voice woke Mia up all the way. A fat yellow candle burned on a table next to the bed, dripping wax down its sides. By the dim light it gave off, Mia was able to focus on the woman who’d spoken. “There ye are.” Said the elderly woman, her pale blue eyes crinkling with relief.

  “Welcome back.”

  “What?” Mia said, her tongue thick and clum
sy in her mouth. “Who are you?” She sat up, blinking as her vision blurred and refocused.

  “Try to take it, slow dear.” The woman said and got up from the stool. She rested a hand on Mia’s wrist. A frown of concern turned down the corners of her thin lips.

  “What happened?” Mia fixed her gaze on the small, sun-browned hand on her wrist. Thin knobby fingers ended in short, rounded nails, caked with dirt. Veins stood out like wrinkly worms beneath skin mottled with liver spots.

  “Ye’ve had a rather nasty fall.” The woman said in her soft voice reminding Mia of Mrs. Treneer, the little old lady who lived on the ground level of their apartment building: soft-spoken and kind. The accent was hard to place though; it sounded British, but there was a hint of a burr when she rolled her ‘rs. “Do ye remember?” The woman asked.

  “I think so,” Mia said, racking her brain for the details. With a deep frown, she started to recount what she could remember of the events leading up to her fall. “I wanted to keep going. It was getting dark, but I thought it might be easier to spot a cabin or something...” Mia trailed off, trying to remember. “There were wolves,” she shuddered and clasped her hands together in her lap, barely noticing when the other woman pulled away with a sharp breath. “I climbed a tree. I didn’t think I would fall asleep, but I did.” Mia frowned. “I think- I think something scared me.”

  “You fell.” The woman said.

  Mia looked up from her hands, meeting the woman’s eyes; there were crow’s feet at the corners.