She nodded and opened her mouth to speak again, but Artair interrupted, the urgency in his voice commanding her full attention.
“I hate to disrupt this beautiful moment,” he said. “But we have enemies heading our way. You may want to be prepared.”
Meaghan grabbed her knives and spun around. Milli stood at the ready, her arms crossed, her eyes pointed toward the two people who approached. Artair drew up beside her. The air sizzled and a ball of electricity appeared between his hands.
“Another few steps and I can attack,” he said, then narrowed his eyes as the man and woman sauntered closer. “They're unconcerned for two people facing death.”
“They're unconcerned because they're not our enemies,” Nick said, stepping in front of Artair. His sword remained sheathed. His posture stayed relaxed. “They're with me.”
“With you?” Milli asked. “How's that possible?”
“They're Guardians,” Nick responded, then moved forward to greet the man and woman. Milli, Meaghan, and Artair followed.
“What's the update?” Nick asked.
“We have thirty fighting,” the man replied. “Or I should say, we have thirty here. There isn't much fighting left to be done. Once the remainder of Garon's minions realized the battle had been lost, they took off. We're tracking them.” He grinned, then turned to Meaghan and offered her a discreet bow. “It's a pleasure to see you again, my Queen,” he said. “And to hear of your success today. I understand you have a handy talent with the Mardróch. Well done.”
“Thank you,” Meaghan replied, smiling in response to cover her confusion. He seemed to know her, but she did not recognize him. She studied the man, and the woman who stood next to him. They looked similar. Each had pale green eyes and curly auburn hair—his cut short, hers pulled into a ponytail. Both of them had freckles splashed across their cheeks and the bridges of their noses. Though he stood six inches taller than she did, they both had similar, lean builds. Siblings, she guessed, and then remembered. Twins. She had met them at the party in Nick's village.
“It's nice to see you again, Talis,” she responded. “Talea,” she nodded toward the woman. “I'm glad you were able to join us.”
“We could hardly miss a get-together such as this,” Talis said with a wink. “The Elders sent word to the Guardians when they heard the village had been attacked. I'm stationed in a village not far from here to the east. Talea came from the west. It's a good thing she did, too. Looks like her power saved you.”
“You're the one who killed the Mardróch and the levitator?” Milli asked, her eyes widening. “I've never seen anyone with your power before. How does it work?”
Talea grimaced. “You don't want to know. I try not to think about it myself if I can help it.”
“Let's just say we're all glad she's on our side,” Nick told Milli before turning back to Talis. “How many Guardians did the Elders dispatch?”
“There'll be another twenty or so coming. We'll ensure the Healers have enough help before we send the others home.”
Nick raised an eyebrow. “Why so many?”
“There's a rumor the King was hiding in this village,” Talea responded. “Nobody wanted to take the chance the rumor might be true.”
“Do you honestly think I'd hide in a village with this many people?” Nick asked. “You've known me long enough to realize I'm smarter than that.”
“I would've thought so,” she said. “But I wouldn't have thought you were stupid enough to wed a non-Guardian, so,” she shrugged. “I guess you're not as smart as you appear.”
“Nice,” he grumbled. “Don't forget that I can have you arrested for saying stuff like that.”
She laughed. “Let's see you try.”
They shared a grin born of a friendship built on teasing and then Talea turned to Artair. “You're the Guardian of this village, right?”
Artair nodded. “One of them. Felix is the other. My father was killed in battle. He was the third.”
“Felix has been lost too,” she told him, her voice soft. “I'm sorry.”
“What about Felix's son?” Milli asked. “Is he safe?”
“He witnessed his father's death,” Talis said. “Someone said he ran into the woods soon after. We're looking for him.”
“He was close to his father,” Artair told them. “They hunted together. He might be hiding in one of their usual spots.”
“Do you know where those are?” Talis asked.
“I do. I can lead a search party if you think it'll help.”
“It's worth a try. If you go to the field hospital, you'll find a man by the name of Avil. He'll help you organize your party.”
“I can help,” Milli offered. Talis nodded, and both Milli and Artair headed back toward the woods.
“What can we do?” Meaghan asked.
“Leave,” Talis told her.
It took her a moment to realize he had not been joking. She frowned. “Until these people are all cared for, I don't intend to go anywhere.”
“You don't have much of a choice.”
Meaghan raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?”
“Positive,” Talis said, knitting his hands together in front of him as he stared her down. “They know who you are.”
“Who?”
“Everyone,” Talea answered. Though Talis' voice had been strident, his posture stiff with his authority, Talea addressed Meaghan with kindness, her tone easing the tension building in the air. “Forgive Talis. He means well, but he's a bit too used to dealing with people by bullying them into doing what he wants. He seems to have forgotten who he's talking to.” Her eyes slid to her brother, sending a warning that had even Meaghan squirming. “It is, of course, your decision if you want to stay, but the villagers have figured out who you are. We don't know who let the Mardróch into the village. If the traitor is still around, you may be risking your life. And since we already know the villagers will be safe, the risk makes little sense.”
Though Meaghan disagreed, she nodded, accepting Talea's reasoning. “If any of Garon's people escape,” Meaghan said, “they'll report back that I was here. It won't be long before more soldiers come.”
“We know,” Talea said. “We're organizing everyone who's healthy. They'll be led to one of the Elders' protected areas tonight. Those who aren't healthy enough to be moved will be guarded until they're healed. No one will remain here after tomorrow is through.”
“I guess it's time for us to go then,” Meaghan decided. “I won't forget about this.”
“It's an honor to help,” Talea responded. She rested a hand on Meaghan's shoulder. “And if you don't mind me saying so, I know you aren't happy about going, but you shouldn't feel like you're leaving without finishing your job. You should be proud of your service. You've proven to be a worthy fighter today.”
§
THE MOON had begun to make its decent by the time Nick and Meaghan came within range of their cabin. It played with the clouds, dancing beside and behind them, filling the woods with light and then shadows in turn. In the waxing and waning darkness, Meaghan easily recognized parts of the training course as she neared the clearing. The tree with the scarred trunk waited like an old friend. The fake hornets' nest, repaired and returned to its limb, waved at her in the breeze. Even the dormant creeper vines seemed to welcome her home. She could almost smell the fire Nick would build before they slept, and it brought her a feeling of safety she had not experienced in weeks. She counted her steps, focusing on the trees for the glimmer of the blue protection crystals. Weariness captivated her, and she allowed it to dull her usually heightened senses. When a twig snapped behind her, she realized the mistake in that decision.
She turned. Nick did the same, placing his body between her and the person who stood only a few feet in front of them. It took a moment and the reappearance of the moon for Meaghan to recognize the curly blonde hair of Felix's son.
“You shouldn't be here, Origio,” Nick told him. “Go back to the villag
e. Artair is looking for you.”
“My father's dead,” Origio said. He turned his head so his blue eyes shined bright by the moonlight. Meaghan saw tears in them. “Someone shot him with an arrow.”
“I know,” Nick responded. “I'm sorry, but you can't follow us. We're not going someplace safe for you. You need to find Artair. He'll take you to the Elders.”
“I'll miss him,” Origio continued as if Nick had never spoken. He sniffed, and wiped a hand across his nose. “He taught me so much. He taught me what was important.” His voice shook. “He taught me the truth about our world and about your power.” His eyes turned toward Meaghan. Something in them warned her and she drew her hand to the hilt of one of her knives before casting her power toward the young man. She felt his grief and an excitement that seemed out of place.
“He taught me how to fight,” he said. He raised his right arm. The red ribbon tied around his wrist fluttered with the movement. “And he taught me how to defeat those who are a threat to our world.” His fingers, which he had folded flat over his palm, opened, revealing a handcrafted holster. Five small blades, each no bigger than a dart, rested within it, their tips pointed forward.
Nick yanked his sword from its sheath. Meaghan pulled her knife and threw it. Neither of them proved faster than the young man. He stepped sideways to clear Nick's protection, took aim at Meaghan, and cast his hand forward. All five blades met their marks. One tore through Meaghan's side. Another sliced her pant leg, biting into her skin. A third embedded into her throwing hand. The fourth lodged in her stomach, and the fifth sunk into her neck.
She collapsed and pain hazed her vision, clouding out the sight of Origio's lifeless eyes staring at her from his resting place on the ground.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
NICK DID not dare touch the blade. He kept his distance from it, though he loathed seeing the stark evidence of his failure mocking him from the side of Meaghan's neck. The other blades would be easy to manage, the wounds they created no more than a novice's challenge for a Healer. But this knife had sliced through an artery. Once removed, even the kingdom's best Healer would have trouble stopping the flow of blood in time.
Not that he had a Healer.
Panic overwhelmed Nick and he fought hard to control it. Carrying Meaghan from the woods to the cabin had been hard enough. One wrong arm position or nudge and she would be dead. He had not wanted to move her, but he did not see another option. Origio could have broadcast their position with a hidden commcrystal at any time. If he had, the forest would be crawling with Mardróch before noon.
Frustrated, Nick sunk down to the floor beside Meaghan's cot. Abbott's face flashed through Nick's mind and his words rung in Nick's ears, as potent as they had been when first spoken. Abbott might not have said Meaghan would not live through the war, but the truth of his vision had hung in the air. And the threat of it had haunted Nick's dreams. He had seen her die a thousand times since. He had suffered through those nightmares, and formulated plans on how to stop each one. He thought he had prepared for every scenario, but he had failed to see the danger a young boy could pose.
Meaghan shuddered. Nick could still sense her, but her presence felt distant. He took her hand in his and tried not to weep when her faint pulse slowed under his touch.
It did not seem right that her life would end this way. She deserved better. She had fought valiantly. She had saved lives, and honored those who had saved hers. She had even battled to protect the people who betrayed her. Nick shook his head in disgust as he watched pain tighten her face. He could not believe it. Nor would he allow it. Not today.
He stood. He needed to call his mother. She could meet him somewhere away from the Elders' protection and heal Meaghan. If they moved quickly, they might be able to manage it before the Mardróch followed his teleportation trail.
Nick located the commcrystal on a bookshelf, but before he could activate it, a voice disturbed the somber air in the cabin. A voice he wanted to rip from its throat.
“Hello in there! Anyone home?”
Focused on reaching his mother, Nick ignored both the anger coursing through him, and Cal. Meaghan's life depended on it. The commcrystal turned blue, then dimmed back to gray when the cabin's front door flew open. Nick swore and spun around, fighting the urge to drive the crystal through Cal's skull.
The older man cast a lazy smile at him from the doorway. “You could've answered. You had me worried,” he said, then knit his eyebrows together. “You okay?”
“This is your fault,” Nick told him, his words exploding with pent fury. “If you hadn't told her about the battle, we wouldn't be in this mess. You're a reckless, useless—”
Cal stepped out of the doorway and Nick lost his voice. Neiszhe stood behind him. She looked confused, but as soon as her eyes found Meaghan, she flew to the cot. Cal's gaze followed his wife and he turned pale.
“She wasn't supposed to—” he started, but Neiszhe interrupted him.
“How long has she been unconscious?” she asked. Her fingers moved to the blade in Meaghan's neck. “You didn't remove it. That's a miracle. You saved her life.”
“She's fading,” Nick told her.
Neiszhe nodded. “How long?” she prompted again.
“It just happened.”
“This will take everything I have,” she told him. “I'll need to heal the wound around the blade. Then I can remove it and heal her again.”
“Two rounds of accelerated healing,” Nick said and understood the enormity of the endeavor. “You can't, Neiszhe.”
“The baby,” Cal whispered, and reached out to grip the doorway. “May said—”
“The baby should be developed enough by now,” Neiszhe responded without allowing him to finish the thought. Her eyes met his and a tangible worry passed between them. “We have no other choice.”
Cal nodded, and she began working. Meaghan remained unconscious. Nick hoped it would allow her to endure the healing process pain free, but instead, she seemed to hover on the edge of awareness. During the other times she had gone through this, he had held her hand or pinned her down, the tasks distracting him from his own feelings. Now he could do little to help. He pulled the other four knives from Meaghan's body when Neiszhe requested it, but otherwise, stayed a safe distance from the delicate procedure, pacing to ease his nerves.
Cal proved no better at waiting. He chewed on his fingernails, walking the floor with Nick, though he respected Nick's anger with as much distance as he could muster in the small space. They both avoided looking at each other. The tension rose. The cabin became a harbor for the repetitive noise of shuffling feet. Finally, Neiszhe had enough.
“Out,” she commanded. She did not remove her eyes from her patient. Her face appeared red and streaked with sweat. Her hands shook, but her voice remained strong. As did the authority she carried within it. “You're distracting me. You need to leave.”
Nick froze in his path. “I have to be here in case—”
“Now!” Neiszhe barked. She lifted her eyes to his for only a heartbeat, but it silenced him. No argument would change her mind. He had seen the same look on his mother's face during healings before. She usually reserved it for the panic- or grief-stricken, the overly anxious parents or spouses who could not cope with their loved one's suffering. Nick had escorted them out many times, always with a kind word and a feeling of empathy for their situation. But he had never expected to be one of them. He swallowed hard, nodded, and followed Neiszhe's order.
“You too,” she said to Cal. “Light the fire first.”
Cal did not argue. He started stacking wood in the fireplace as Nick stepped into the cold air and shut the cabin door behind him.
The sun had begun to rise over the tops of the trees, dragging a waking morning behind it. It looked like it would be a clear day. No clouds dotted the sky. Birds had begun to dance their songs through the trees. What remained of the night still sheltered a chill, but the first promises of spring had begun chasing it awa
y. And Nick ignored it all in favor of watching the toes of his boots as he paced the length of the cabin's porch.
Today should have been a near-perfect day. He and Meaghan should have slept until lunchtime, and awoken revived. He had no doubt she would have seen the warming weather as an opportunity to train, but he would have convinced her to take a break. He had intended to roast the turkey for dinner, and then while they ate, they would have talked about her empath power. It had both surprised and horrified him to realize she had been aware the entire time she had been stone. Her suffering still tore at him, but it seemed some good had come of it. And she had survived the ordeal.
Only to have death reach for her again, greedy in its need.
Nick wanted to be in the cabin with her. He wanted to monitor Neiszhe's progress. He could sense Meaghan out here, of course. Her pain still flowed strong while her consciousness remained weak. But sensing did not ease his mind as much as seeing her did.
Nick cast his eyes toward the closed cabin door. He would always be in debt to Neiszhe for what she did today, and if the baby could not withstand the energy Neiszhe needed to heal Meaghan, he would not forget her sacrifice. Nor would he forget Cal knew to bring her. It seemed the man held more secrets, covered more lies, than Nick thought him capable. And this last one had nearly cost everything.
Though Origio had unleashed the blades that cut Meaghan, and Garon had waged the war that placed her in the path of the young man, Cal had pushed her into harm's way. Nick harbored enough anger to share among all three enemies. And since Cal was the only one within arm's reach, as soon as he stepped onto the porch, shutting the door behind him, he received the brunt of that anger.
Two swift steps and Nick caught the older man off-guard, pinning him against the door. A well-placed forearm served as the only weapon Nick needed. He stiffened it against Cal's throat, cutting off most of his air.
“You recognize this hold?” Nick asked.
Aerenden: The Gildonae Alliance (Ærenden Book 2) Page 20