Chloe's Guardian

by Cheri Gillard

  A long way off by the edge of town Da was walking toward him. Walking! Altogether benumbing! He is not riding Bethesda, but strolling along just fine on his own two legs. Maybe he had gotten the dove already and had broken his curse. Billy picked up his stick and broke into a gallop.

  “You are all right! What happened?”

  When he got close enough, it became clear that was not Da, but another dark man as big as Da. A nasty scar down the side of his face pulled his mouth and eye into an ugly expression.

  Billy froze and watched the man come on. As he approached, Billy backed out of the rut into the grass to allow the man to pass.

  The man stopped when he caught up to Billy and stared at him. Billy shrunk back, not certain what the man intended. His eyes were scary.

  He grabbed Billy’s stick. Billy tried to hold on to it, but two tugs and he got it away. The man broke it over his knee, threw the pieces down, and looked hard into Billy’s eyes. Then he broke into frightening laughter. Billy forgot all about the sting of the welt on his elbow.

  ***

  On the mule by the well, Horatius waited for Billy, scanning the people milling around the square for his unmistakable red hair. He’d waited long past what he thought was enough time for Billy to deliver the geese and return.

  When at last he saw him, the relief flooded into his chest. His absence was a hardship since about five minutes after he left.

  “Billy,” Horatius said, waving to catch his eye.

  Billy ran to him and grabbed his leg in a hug. “I thought that was you out on the road, but it was another man who could have been you. I dinna ever want to see him again. And he broke my stick. For no reason at all. Just grabbed it and broke it across his knee.”

  A sick feeling swelled inside of Horatius. “Did he have a scar down the left side of his face?” If Panahasi harmed a hair on Billy’s head, Horatius would hunt him down and sever his head.

  Billy reached up to his own face and traced where he’d seen the scar. “Is this the left side?”

  “Did he hurt you? Threaten you?”

  “Nay. Well, he hurt my stick. It was a nice one, too. He glared at me then just laughed and left. I dinna want to ever see him again.”

  “Where did he go?”

  “That way.” Billy pointed out of town. “The same way I chased Chloe.”

  “We will go get our dove. I need to be shed of this human encumbrance now.”

  Billy took the mule’s rope and led it with Horatius to the stall of the man with the birds. Billy could not pull him along fast enough. Adrenaline was making Horatius’ stomach pitch. All patience and tolerance were expired. He had to get to the girls before Panahasi did. Then he’d get Billy to a safe place, take the girls back home as soon as he got clearance to enter the Corridor, attend to Chloe’s family, and then come back for Billy. That part took no consideration. Billy would be a part of his life from now on. Even if that meant staying put, hiding in his human form most of his time, and giving up flight while Billy grew up.

  The birdman looked surprised when Billy approached him. That did not bode well with Horatius.

  “We are here for the dove,” Horatius said. “The boy delivered the geese as promised.”

  “Aye, of course,” the birdman said. “I will fetch the dove.” He went back to his pens and retrieved the small cage. When he handed it to Billy, Horatius bent and examined it to make sure it was the same bird and that it was still alive. Surprisingly, all seemed in order.

  “We will be off then,” Horatius said.

  Billy pulled the mule and they headed out of town where they could conduct their ritual and go forward with saving the world.

  They were nearing the edge of Market Square when someone hollered. “Hey, you there! With the mule. Halt where you are.”

  Three men with the dress and carriage of officials came on flanked by the birdman, who was in a pother pointing a rigid finger at Billy.

  When the men caught up to them, the birdman grabbed the dove cage. Then his words became clear.

  “…stole me bird when I wasna looking. He was eyeing it afore and wanted it, but neither had the tuppence for it. I told them to go on, I wouldna be trading it away either. It was tuppence and no less.”

  “He is a liar,” Horatius thundered. “The boy worked for the bird, fair and square. We can give you the address of the house where he made the delivery.”

  Billy tried to take the cage back, but the birdman pulled it up out of his reach. One of the officials took hold of Billy’s arms.

  “Wait a minute,” Horatius said. “You cannot take him. He worked for that dove. He has the bruises all over his arms and legs to prove it. Look at those welts on his face. Those are from the geese he delivered over to Castle Street in payment for the dove.”

  The magistrate, the one with the fancy hat and expensive cloak, said, “We will work this out and see if we canna get the lad back to you afore nightfall. But for the nonce, we will hold him and try to get at the matter of things.” He nodded to his guards to take Billy away.

  Billy looked to Horatius with terrified eyes.

  “Don’t worry, lad. I’ll take care of this.” But he didn’t know what he could possibly do. Without the dove and without Billy to help him get around, he was useless. The day spent on the mule was taking its toll and Horatius wondered how much longer he’d be able to stay mounted. If he fell off, he would be helpless to get up again. His legs were leaden and his feet were numb. The buzzing in his arms made him think it wouldn’t be long and they would be useless, too.

  “Where are you taking him?” Horatius demanded, but they ignored him and disappeared through the crowd, which was losing interest but still keeping the mule from budging, even when Horatius heeled its sides with ineffective, weak thrusts.

  God help me. Now I’ve lost Billy, too.

  CHAPTER 50

  The tables were laden with platters filled with seasoned roasts, twists of shaped breads, bowls of boiled roots, and platters of baked apples, raisins, and spices. Wheels and wedges of cheese were draped with bunches of grapes. Chloe and Kaitlyn had not eaten because Agnes’ mother wanted to eat with music and insisted they play first.

  They got through only about fifteen minutes of music when Pan made his entrance. Even though his kilted tartan was faded and frayed at the edges, he strode in with such confidence one would have thought he owned the castle himself. His cap was cocked sideways and the weapons he carried clanked and jingled at his side when he strutted across the room. Chloe missed several notes because of the excitement that gripped her. He was there, just as he’d promised. And he was going to take her home.

  Pan came directly to them where they played on a small platform set up between two windows. He bowed and smiled, the smile pulling to the side because of his scar. Chloe couldn’t remember why she’d been so repelled by his appearance before. It’s not so bad.

  “Ladies,” Pan said.

  They lowered their instruments, eager to hear the plans.

  “I have not had my dinner yet, so I am sure you would not mind if I ate and listened to your beautiful music before we go.”

  “Okay,” Kaitlyn said tentatively. Chloe wanted to leave right then, but the words stuck in her throat. How could she refuse him food when he was going out of his way to help them? The last thing she could afford was to offend Pan and make him think twice about taking her back.

  Pan settled at a table and began gathering his food. They restarted the song they’d been playing. Chloe had trouble concentrating and kept forgetting what key they were in. The butterflies in her stomach nauseated her. She was so nervous, her palm sweated on her cello’s neck and the bow slipped twice, almost dropping on the floor. Kaitlyn was doing a great job of covering and didn’t seem at all disturbed by all that was about to happen. She looked tranquil, and now that she had “normal” clothes—at least for the time period—she fit in and no one would think she was the least bit stressed or out of place. She was even gagging less.


  Pan let them play on and on forever while he ate, and ate, and ate some more. Chloe kept watching for a cue that it was time to go, but every time she looked he turned away and flirted with several women who had settled around him at his table.

  Agnes and her parents, sitting at the head table, didn’t seem to be listening either. But when Chloe stopped and lowered her bow, hoping to be done, Agnes’ mother looked up sharply and waved for them to continue.

  “I’m getting tired,” Kaitlyn whispered as she replaced her bow and bounced the viola’s scroll to signal Chloe the downbeat.

  Chloe started with her and spoke as they played. “I want to stop.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Why don’t we just stop, then? This is a crummy gig.”

  “My back hurts.”

  “What can they do to us?” Chloe said.

  Kaitlyn lowered her arms. “They’ve been nice. They wouldn’t hurt us. Right?”

  Chloe laid down the cello. “Let’s go tell Pan we want to go.”

  Agnes’ parents both turned and looked at them when they quit, as though Chloe and Kaitlyn had done something irritating. Kaitlyn gave them a little wave. Chloe gestured a spoon going to her mouth to suggest they were going to eat.

  “They don’t seem to understand union rules,” Chloe said to Kaitlyn.

  It took too long for Pan to say goodbye to all his admirers.

  “Ah, now that was a meal,” Pan said after his last companion left. He pulled his cap from his belt and reshaped it. “I will speak to your host.” After exchanging a few words at the head table, he came back to them.

  “It is arranged. I shall escort you to town for an hour to hear a concert of traveling musicians.” He put his cap on.

  “We’re going to a concert?” Kaitlyn said eagerly.

  Pan smiled and put out his elbows to each of the girls to take. “Shall we?” On the way out the door, Pan took a lighted torch from its sconce on the wall.

  Ignoring all the people milling about in the evening air of Dunnottar, Pan and the girls left the fortress and descended the headland. Once they got to the flat plains, they walked west for a bit then turned north.

  “Can’t we go faster?” Chloe asked. “Where are we going? What do we have to do to go?”

  “When does the concert start?”

  “We are meeting someone I’ve arranged to help us. We are not due at the rendezvous until midnight.”

  “That’s a late show,” Kaitlyn said.

  “Kaitlyn, there’s no show. That was just a story to get us out. We’re going home. Right Pan?”

  “Remember when we talked about the alternative path to your own time?”

  Kaitlyn nodded and Chloe said, “Yes?” in a question.

  “With this other way, you have to be willing to go.”

  “Of course I’m willing to go. That’s all I’ve wanted since we got here. Yes!”

  “Okay, I just needed to make certain. And you, too?” he asked Kaitlyn.

  She hesitated.

  “Of course her too.”

  Kaitlyn looked at Chloe like she wasn’t completely convinced. She asked Pan, “Since we can’t go the way we came, then which way are we going?”

  “The Corridor is not the only dimension. There are other ones, you know.”

  “No, I don’t really.”

  “It’s fine, Kaitlyn. He’s going to take us back. It’s fine.”

  “Okay, if you say so. It just seems…I mean…why didn’t Horace ever go into those different dimensions?”

  “Oh, do not waste time fretting, my dear one. He has been in places other than the Corridor plenty. He was just keeping those secrets to himself.”

  They walked on in silence for a time, depending on Pan’s torch to light their way.

  “How far to where we are going?”

  “About three kilometers.”

  That didn’t help. Chloe didn’t know how far three kilometers was.

  When they reached a forest, Pan led them off the main road and onto a smaller side road. The thick trees flickered in the torchlight, making shadows that brought the deep forest to life.

  Far away, a faint light glowed deep inside the thick trees and Chloe focused her eyes on it. As they got closer, it became a campfire. Someone was sitting next to it, and several smaller flames were lit, too.

  “I need to put on a mask to hide my identity,” Pan said. “Do not be alarmed. It is part of the ceremony.” He pulled a mask from the sack slung over his shoulder. It was a hideous hammered silver mask. A horn came out of the center of the forehead and another below that. Though there were eye slits, layers of metal surrounded them, bugged out and creepy. The mouth was a terrible scowl. Chloe didn’t want to look at it. Kaitlyn had already turned away.

  Pan pushed their backs to propel them along. “Keep going.” A couple more turns in the path, one long stretch, and they were there. A woman with a scarf draped over her head and face sat at the fire. A circle of smaller fires surrounded her and the center fire. An odd smell thickened the air and each of the flames glowed a different color.

  “Ah, at last,” she said. “Enter the circle and prepare to travel.”

  CHAPTER 51

  Billy had been inside the jail, detained for hours. Horatius sat on the ground leaning against the building’s wall, around the corner from the front entrance. He’d finally had to slip off the mount, certain if he didn’t do it soon of his own accord, he’d be on the ground anyway. He had eased himself down off the mule as gently as he could, which mostly left him falling with a thud to the hard earth. Without the strength to get up and walk, he had remained by the building where he’d collapsed.

  Horatius didn’t know what to do. He was at a total loss. He couldn’t move on his own, he couldn’t talk to Billy, he couldn’t even find out where Panahasi planned to meet the woman for the Escort. If he had, what could he do about it anyway?

  The mule had wandered off somewhere, his wineskin with it. Thirst and hunger added to his misery. He watched a cricket totter across the ground next to him. The thing was organic material already. It would not take much power to transmute it into a chicken leg or pork chop. How much worse a state could he sink to anyway? He might as well at least try.

  He closed his eyes and concentrated. He couldn’t connect to the particles of the insect. Perhaps he would just have to eat the cricket as it was. When he reopened his eyes, the bug was on its same trek, completely unaware of the attention it was getting.

  When it was ready to disappear into the grass, Horatius flicked it back next to him so it wouldn’t be gone too soon. Horatius didn’t want to be alone.

  While Horatius pestered the bug, a sound interrupted the night’s silence. He looked up, straining through the darkness to make out what it was. A dark mass that was not quite as dark as the air around it moved down the road. From its hoof fall and muzzle noises, by all indications, it was his mule.

  “Mule, come here!” Horatius commanded. “Beth! Bethesda. Get over here.” Then he called it several offensive names, saying what he thought of it for wandering off.

  “There you are.” A man carrying a small torch came from around a corner and caught up with the mule. It was their Good Samaritan, Vicar John. He took hold of the mule’s tether.

  “Vicar,” Horatius said. “I am over here. Can you help me?”

  “I thought I heard your voice. What are you doing on the ground? Have you worsened again?”

  “I can’t get up. They took the boy. Called him a thief, when it was that low down—” He stopped himself before he said the vulgar words he really wanted to say. “A merchant cheated us out of our purchase and said the boy stole it. Billy is being held inside.”

  “When Beth returned to my stable without you, I thought I had better find what had become of you. I shall go see what I can do.” He tied the mule to a nearby shrub and left for the main entrance.

  Horatius was left alone again, the cricket safely gone into the grass. But there was the mule t
hat munched on the shrub as though it had not abandoned him earlier. Though Horatius had to concede, it was probably a good thing. It brought the vicar back to him.

  He needed to get that sacrifice done so he could find the girls and Panahasi before it was too late. He eyed the mule. Maybe his first thought about killing it was not such a bad idea. If I just make sure I have a good attitude about it. If he broke the curse, he wouldn’t need the beast anymore anyway.

  He fingered the knife in his belt when more footsteps sounded. This time lighter and quieter than before. Who would be out so late but those up to no good?

  He watched from his dark perch by the building as a glow of light grew on the ground in the road. When the person walked into sight, lighted by the yellow flame on the end of her stick, Horatius recognized her. The goat woman who’d mistaken him for Panahasi.

  She had to be on her way to the rendezvous. He had to follow her. Which he realized in an instant was a ridiculous thought. He could not even stand up. He needed the vicar to come back immediately and see where she went.

  He thought of pounding on the wall, but that had gotten him nowhere for hours earlier. Maybe if he figured out a way to untie the mule, it could ride by the front entrance and catch the vicar’s attention.

  He lifted a stone to toss toward the mule when the vicar rounded the corner.

  “What took so long?” But then Billy came running past the vicar and jumped onto Horatius.

  “Are you okay?” Billy asked.

  Horatius wrapped his arms around him and held him close. “I am. What about you? They didn’t hurt you, did they?”