Bodyguards

by Kallysten

  “She told me more than that,” she said, wiping her eyes with both her hands. “She told me to go home. She said you’d take me back. And you won’t.”

  Brad clasped his hands in front of him, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his thighs. He stared straight ahead rather than look at her.

  “If that’s really what you want...” He sighed. “I’ll be too tired to channel anymore tonight after we return Anabel to the Quickening. But if that’s still what you want in the morning...”

  Vivien’s heart jumped. She didn’t know what he meant about returning Anabel anywhere, but any thought she had of asking disappeared at what he was all but promising.

  “Really?” she asked, slipping a trembling hand in between both of his. “Why the change of heart?”

  He looked up at her and gave her a lopsided smile. “You know why. I love you. You’re unhappy here. If what it takes to make you happy again is to take you back to the Otherworld...”

  He sighed again. It wouldn’t make him happy; that much seemed clear. But it didn’t have to be all bad.

  “Your brother can come with us,” she said. “At least, you’ll have your family.”

  He would, but she wouldn’t, she remembered with a pang, and a fresh flow of tears rose to her eyes. She blinked fast, trying to chase them away; she really hated crying, especially in front of anyone. She caught just the end of Brad’s head shake.

  “Aedan can’t live in the Otherworld. He can stay there for a few hours, maybe even a couple of days, but it’s the Quickening that keeps vampires’ bodies alive, that gives them their strength and helps them heal faster. In the Otherworld, he’d…fade away.”

  Vivien felt confused. It was still weird to hear him and Aedan talk about vampires. “So he doesn’t...drink blood? Like in the stories?”

  “He does,” Brad said like it was the most natural thing in the world. “But it’s usually animal blood. The myth of vampires is based mostly on some vampires from Foh’Ran that were exiled to the Otherworld before such a punishment was outlawed. But now Rhuinn is talking about lifting the ban again and...”

  He shook his head again and looked away. “And you don’t need to hear about that. I’m sorry. Are you feeling a little better?”

  She had been, the topic distracting her enough to dull her grief for a little while. It resurfaced in the time of a blink, and she couldn’t find it in her to answer. Brad seemed to understand and gently squeezed her hand in between his.

  “I have to prepare the bier for the return ceremony,” he said softly. “Would you like to help me?”

  “The return ceremony?” she repeated. “What is that?”

  “We do not bury people when they die,” he explained. “We give their bodies back to the Quickening, so that their energy may join those who preceded them in death, and remain around those they leave behind. Some people believe that by calling on their loved ones who passed away, they can channel better, accomplish bigger things.”

  He lifted his right hand and gestured in the familiar way that meant he was channeling. Vivien kept her eyes on him for a few seconds, watching the colors swirl around his body. They seemed dimmer, less vivid than they had been before. She then turned her head to see what he was doing.

  The bench they were sitting on was on the edge of a circle, maybe thirty or forty feet across, paved in smooth gray paving stones with the ever-present QuickSilver symbol inlaid in smaller, darker stones. More benches were spread around the periphery of the circle. His power was levitating stones of all sizes from beyond the paved circle and drawing them to the center, where slowly they started to form an oval shape about six feet long and maybe three across.

  At first, the stones only rested on the ground, but soon they started to settle on top of each other. Nothing but a light glow held the stones together, and as the oval grew taller, surely they should have collapsed. They looked steady, however, like the Quickening was acting as mortar.

  “Do you believe that?” she murmured without looking away from the bier Brad was erecting. “That you can...call on their power?”

  A moment passed before he answered. “Sometimes, I think I do. It feels like my parents are right next to me when I channel, supporting me. But I felt their presence in the Otherworld, too. How could they be there? Maybe it’s just their love I feel. And that’s enough.”

  Tears prickled Vivien’s eyes, and she was about to say she wished she had had as much, but she chastised herself before she could voice the words. Of course she’d been loved. Anabel had cared for her as though Vivien had been her own child. And Vivien’s mother had sent her away so she’d be safe; surely she must have loved Vivien. Vivien wished she could remember her.

  Brad had asked if she wanted to help, but before she could get a grip on herself, he was done. The bier rose four feet up, the top a mostly even surface on which a body could be lain.

  “Is this...is this where it always happens?” she asked, rising to go to the bier. She lifted a hand to touch the gently glowing stones, but couldn’t make herself complete the gesture.

  “That’s what this circle is for,” Brad confirmed. He remained on the bench, but she could feel his eyes on her. “This is where both my parents were returned to the Quickening. And Dame Eleoren. And many others.”

  An image flashed through Vivien’s mind: her mother’s face. But rather than the solemn expression from the painting, a soft smile lit up her face. Was it a memory, Vivien wondered, or her imagination at play?

  Looking at the bier again, she tried to picture her mother lying there, or Anabel, but the thought started to choke her up again. She turned away toward the yard. The same wildflowers she had walked through that morning waved gently into the breeze on their long stems. She focused her emotions—her grief—into a tight ball of willpower, and imagined those flowers rising into the air like the rocks had, coming to soften the dark stones with their petals. As hard as she tried, though, nothing happened. The flowers continued to shift back and forth into the wind. Frustration started to chip away at her focus.

  “What are you trying to do?” Brad asked.

  She started when his hand brushed her shoulder; she hadn’t noticed him approach.

  “Nothing. I’ll just...pick some flowers. For the...the ceremony. Is that okay?”

  “Of course. Would you like me to help you?”

  “No.” The word came out fast, and she could tell he was hurt. She touched his arm and lowered her voice. “I mean, I want to do this myself. For Ana. But thank you.”

  He gave her a soft smile and returned to the bench.

  Vivien gathered flowers of every color and every shape, bringing them and their sweet scents to the bier by the armload and arranging them in a mattress of colors. Some of the flowers had small thorns like roses, and a few times she pricked her fingers and palms; she didn’t care.

  She continued picking flowers even when the shadow of the castle grew long over her as the sky slowly darkened. With each flower she added to the bier, one more memory of her life with Anabel rose to the surface, reminding her how much she’d been loved. Before long, silent tears were rolling down her cheeks. She let them.

  Dusk came. As Vivien lay down the last of the flowers, she saw Brad approach—no, it was Aedan; Brad was still on the bench. In his arms, Aedan carried Anabel’s body, a sheet wrapped around her like a shroud. Vivien had shed all the tears in her body, but her eyes still prickled when she raised her hands and said in a small, shaky voice, “Let me.”

  He paused briefly, and she thought he would once again argue with her, but eventually he held out Anabel’s body to her. She weighed next to nothing, Vivien reflected as she turned to lay her on top of the flowers, as though what had given her substance had left her when she had died. For a second, Vivien thought of opening the shroud to look at her face one last time, but she retreated without touching it and went back to the bench. Her knees felt weak when she sat next to Brad. Aedan was standing nearby.

  “What now?”
she whispered, but Brad was already channeling.

  In the growing darkness, the light and colors that burst from him should have been brighter, but they still were easy to see. They surrounded the bier, encasing it and the wrapped body in dancing shimmers that looked like flames but weren’t. Petals rose into the night sky, and with them, motes of light like fireflies. Vivien wasn’t sure if her heart felt so tight because it was all so beautiful or because she was so sad.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Choices

  It took the better part of an hour before nothing remained on the bier but wilted flowers. Even without the bond, Aedan would have known how exhausted Bradan was: he had been in his position before, straining to hold on to his focus to complete the ceremony and return their mother to the Quickening. Bradan had been too young to help then; he had tried, but after a few moments his focus had shattered. Tonight, Vivien had tried, Bradan guiding her into channeling with quiet, patient words, but she hadn’t managed to focus. Aedan had struggled to hold his tongue; what advice could he give when it had been so long since he had channeled?

  As they reentered the castle, Aedan took the lead and started toward the kitchen, glancing back once to make sure they were following. Bradan’s arm was back around Vivien’s waist, and the familiarity of the gesture troubled Aedan. It wasn’t his place to say anything, though, especially not at that moment.

  When she realized where they were headed, Vivien protested that she wasn’t hungry, but once Bradan softly mentioned that he hadn’t had anything to eat all day, she followed easily enough. Before joining them outside, Aedan had cleared the tray of food that had been left on the table and set an open book in its place. Bradan noticed it at once and gave Aedan a questioning look, although he remained silent.

  As Aedan took his usual place by the wall—close to the door, across from the window where he could see anyone approach if the shields fell—he bode his time and waited for Vivien to finally notice the book, too. For a while, she nibbled at the piece of fruit Bradan had put in front of her, her eyes lost in a world of her own. When she drew herself out of it, however, her gaze fell on the book, and she tugged it closer to her.

  “What’s this?” she asked, her voice a little aloof.

  “The answer to the king’s summons.” Aedan had a hard time not letting his excitement burst through. “If you read it, you’ll understand.”

  A frown creasing her brow, she tugged the book a little closer still. Bradan stood and came to lean over her shoulder to read as well. Aedan could hardly wait for them to be finished, but he forced himself to remain quiet until Bradan was the first to look up and ask, “Do you really think it’d work?”

  “I’m sure of it. I’ve been at his side for decades, I know him as well as anyone can, and I’m certain he wouldn’t pass the chance to echo a deed so famous it became legend.”

  The same excitement Aedan felt was reflected back at him through his bond with Bradan. They grinned at each other.

  “It doesn’t matter whether it would work or not,” Vivien said, shaking her head. “Brad is taking me back to Earth. Right?”

  She raised her face toward Bradan as she finished. His grin vanished in a flash, as did Aedan’s.

  “If that’s what you want,” Bradan said. “But—”

  “It is what I want.” She looked at Aedan then, but he couldn’t tear his eyes off his brother. “I know you can’t come, but you’ll be safe here. The shields will protect you.”

  “Safe,” Aedan repeated tonelessly. “Of course.”

  Even dying, when he had been remade, had not hurt this much. He’d be safe in the castle, yes. Safe in an empty house. Until the day the shields failed because there was no one there to maintain them. Then he’d have to answer to the king, his Maker, or both.

  Vivien had no way of knowing that, but Bradan did. Aedan did not try to hide his pain or how betrayed he felt, trusting the bond to carry every bit of it to Bradan. His eyes, when they met Aedan’s, gleamed with an apology neither of them had ever needed to utter before. Aedan would never have believed that anything, and even less a woman, could stand between them, and yet there she was. The same oath that had united them even when they’d been in different worlds would break them apart in the end.

  “Brother,” Bradan started, but Aedan didn’t want to hear it.

  Without a word, he crossed the room to the outside door and stepped out into a night as dark as his thoughts.

  * * * *

  “I’m sorry,” Vivien said once again as Brad accompanied her to her bedroom door.

  “You have nothing to apologize for,” he replied almost mechanically. “My choices are my own.”

  So he had said down in the kitchen, but Vivien couldn’t chase away the feeling that she had destroyed something precious between the two brothers.

  “But Aedan—” she started, only for Brad to interrupt her right away.

  “Would you like me to warm some water so you can wash up? Or I can show you how to do it.”

  Vivien agreed with a quiet murmur and led the way to the small bathroom attached to her room. An old-fashioned metal tub stood against the wall, and Brad showed her how to rotate the nozzle of the water pump from the sink to the tub to quickly fill it. Then he channeled to warm the water, explaining in a quiet voice what he was doing and asking if she wanted to try. She didn’t. Twice earlier she had tried to channel, with no success.

  It didn’t matter. After she left this place, she’d never channel again; Anabel had admonished her not to, as it would allow Rhuinn to find her again. Would Brad miss it? She supposed he would. One more thing he’d have to leave behind for her. Guilt washed over her, and she swallowed the apology that was coming to her lips yet again.

  Instead, she rested a hand on his arm and drew his attention to her. “Thank you,” she said softly. “For the water, and for taking me home, and for...for Anabel.”

  Rising up on her toes, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. The impassive mask he had adopted since Aedan had left broke, revealing a pained smile.

  “You’re welcome,” he murmured. “Try to get some sleep. We’ll leave in the morning.”

  He closed the door behind him, leaving Vivien alone with too many thoughts. She undressed before stepping into the tub, her hair piled in a bun on top of her head so it wouldn’t get wet. She sat in water deliciously warm when she felt so cold inside, her legs raised in front of her and her cheek resting on top of her knees, and tried to process everything that had happened today, but her mind was swirling with too many emotions.

  The pain and grief from Anabel’s passing battled with her guilt; it was her fault if Anabel had died, hurt by a man who only wanted Vivien. The joy she had felt when Brad had told her he loved her clashed with her discomfort at how much he was willing to sacrifice for her; could she even ask that much of him? Could she take that much from his brother? She’d been annoyed at Aedan’s insistence to protect her any way he saw fit, regardless of what she wanted, but what would he have left once Brad took her home?

  And then there was her fear. From everything they had told her about Rhuinn, he was not a good man, far from it. He didn’t hesitate to hurt those who stood in his way. And what was she, if not an obstacle? She’d never asked to be, but she was by the simple fact of her birth, and she was scared of what he might do to her to make sure she wouldn’t take his throne, never mind that she had no interest in it. She was scared of what he might do to the people trying to protect her, too, like he had killed Anabel.

  Little by little, all the emotions started to coalesce and change into anger. She was angry that this man she didn’t even know had so much power over her life and the lives of those around her, that he had taken what remained of her family from her, and that he had left her no choice but to run in front of him—and oh, how she hated to run from bullies!

  Except...she did have a choice, didn’t she? Aedan had given her an alternative. It was crazy and risky, but it might also be crazy and risky enough to wo
rk. Now the question was, was she crazy enough to try?

  If she was asking herself the question, she had to be.

  She splashed water all around the tub as she got out. She hurriedly dried herself and, wrapped in her towel, marched into her bedroom. She threw on an over-sized t-shirt she used as nightgown and a pair of sweat pants and resolutely left her room. She paused, then, unsure of where Brad’s room was.

  “Brad?” she called out, and the word seemed to echo through the corridor. A door opened behind her. She turned and walked to the next room over. Brad was standing on the threshold, a towel in his hands, his chest bare save for his necklace and his pants riding low on his hips.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked at once, worry thick in his voice. “Are you all right?”

  “Suppose I go to Rhuinn and he doesn’t kill me on sight,” she asked as she approached his door. “What happens next?”

  Brad blinked twice very fast. “What happens next?” he repeated like he didn’t understand the question.

  “What did you think would happen when I returned here?” she insisted. “Did you expect me to... I don’t know. Have a coup d’état all on my own when I don’t know the first thing about Foh’Ran?”

  “Oh. No, of course. Your family always had allies. When they realize you’ve come back, they’re bound to support you. And if you get enough support, Rhuinn will have no choice but to surrender the throne or fight for it.”

  She thought for a second. Allies... She hadn’t imagined that. She’d thought only Brad and Aedan were on her side. But if others supported her, things might be easier. And if Aedan’s plan worked, she’d have some time to recruit those allies.

  She still didn’t care for the throne, but that man had caused Anabel’s death. She would get him thrown out, or better yet thrown in jail, and then she’d abdicate the throne to someone sane and go back home to Earth.

  And if she didn’t get enough support, she’d still have time to go home anyway, just as long as she survived that first meeting.