by Lexi Ander
He wanted to scream. To run. Most of all, he wanted to close his eyes to find that when he opened them again he would be back in his bedroom, Sūnder wrapped around him. No talking plants. No tainted pollution seeping into his skin. No fanatical darkhunters attempting to murder Sūnder. No goddamn bag of something Gabe had purged that moved on its own. And definitely no trees picking him up. Everything that had happened this afternoon was so far from normal that, not for the first time since meeting Sūnder, Gabe doubted his sanity. His vision began to white out. Damn, he was hyperventilating. He needed to calm his breathing before he lost consciousness.
The clash of the battle was still going on below. He had to keep it together, think logically, or he would be of no use to Sūnder.
Wiping at the nervous sweat dripping from his nose and chin, he thought about the articles he’d read on the famous Jade Forest and the druids who watched over it. He’d been fascinated by the descriptions of how the people were connected to nature, but never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that this was what Sūnder’s world was really like: strange and foreign and frightening. And maybe a little bit exhilarating. The fantastical things he’d seen today were all a part of Sūnder and who he was. How could he accept only one part of Sūnder and reject the rest?
Gabe continued to breathe deeply and slowly, for the moment ignoring the fact that a tree held him. Eventually, as his frantic thoughts smoothed out to something less panicked, the noise of battle drew his attention again. Calling on his nurse’s training, he ran through the list of actions he used in emergency situations. Okay. First, he needed to assess the situation, then make a plan of action.
Peering over the edge of his living nest gave him a bird’s-eye view of the gruesome fight below. Many strangers, dark-skinned dròw all, had joined the fight against the darkhunters. Countless L’fÿns had fallen already, but the number pressing in on Sūnder’s small band of men was still overwhelming. Despite how deadly the knights were with their wicked blades, and the savagery of the dròw, Gabe couldn’t imagine how such a small number could win against the odds he saw.
In the middle of it all stood Sūnder, his swords a blur. In spite of the distance, Gabe heard Sūnder’s eerie song, which seemed to call the darkhunters to their death even as it encouraged the knights. Sūnder’s lethal dance left body after body behind, the whistling of the swords somehow interwoven in the melody, the rhythm dizzying. How long could Sūnder keep up such a pace? Gabe had read Sūnder was a great warrior, a legendary Bladedancer, and a commander, but surely there was a limit to his endurance? Sūnder twirled and slipped on the blood-drenched grass… and three darkhunters lunged.
Gabe howled Sūnder’s name. The L’fÿns were somehow flung back. “I have to help him,” Gabe muttered, regardless of the fact there wasn’t much he could do. Even if he’d had a weapon, his sparring skills hadn’t been used since graduating college.
His heart skipped several beats as the nest holding him shuddered, and he almost succumbed to fear, reflexively holding on more tightly to the branches cupping him. The woods to either side of him groaned, the sound reminiscent of some prehistoric beast, before the thick trunks trembled harder and then moved forward. Glancing down at the ground, Gabe watched in unbelieving fascination as the tree he was in uprooted itself to lumber slowly across the grass, dead bodies crunching horribly under the tree’s tremendous weight. A dozen other trees followed in eerie imitation of its unnatural movement.
Upon seeing Gabe’s reinforcements, the dròw raised delighted cries of triumph. The Panthrÿn ignored both the dròw and the moving trees, instead rallying to Sūnder’s side. To a man, the darkhunters gawked at the hulking trunks where Gabe sat, dropped their weapons, and raised their hands in surrender. A deep, dark satisfaction uncoiled within Gabe as he watched them, the scent of their fear reaching him in the boughs. A few L’fÿns ran, screaming imprecations in their native tongue, the rest fell to their knees.
“Halt, please.” Trembling, Gabe buried his face in his hands, surprised but not when they listened to him. Why the trees had moved to help Sūnder when he spoke, he had no idea. How he could hear, feel, Sūnder gasping for breath… he didn’t know that either. What was he supposed to do now? So much had become strange and incredibly complicated in only a few hours. He couldn’t take any more weirdness.
“Gabriel!” Anguish, fear, and concern filled Sūnder’s bellow as he wove a path among the trees, his movements panicky and stilted.
Gabe tried to answer but his post-battle reaction—dry throat, thick tongue, and chattering teeth—resulted in a hoarse gargling noise instead.
“My Gabriel, where are you? Please answer me.”
“Sūnder,” he finally rasped, wiping at his wet cheeks and attempting to pull himself together. Come on, you can do this. You’re not hurt. He’s not hurt. You’re only stuck in a tree.
Pushing out a harsh breath, Gabe looked over the edge of the nest. Sūnder was scanning the boughs when a dròw pointed directly at Gabe. Not knowing what else to do, he gave a pathetic little wave.
Stabbing the tips of his swords into the ground, Sūnder leaped, claws buried in the bark before he pushed off the trunk, jumping from one heavy branch to another… then he was right there, within arm’s reach.
Gabe lunged for the safety of his embrace.
10
SŪNDER ACHED, and the minor cuts he’d acquired stung, but the feel of Gabe in his arms calmed his racing heart. With only a few, halting words, Gabe asked the tree to put them down and then bid the trees return to their homes. Which they did. Sūnder couldn’t think about the how or why of it at the moment.
The remaining knights secured the darkhunters’ weapons with the help of several dròw. Sūnder detested the fact that Gabe had seen such bloodshed, and attempted to keep Gabe’s face averted from the carnage, but Gabe refused to be shielded.
Gabe claimed he was fine even as he trembled. The astringent taint of fear and barely-leashed panic emanating from Gabe also attested otherwise. Thankfully, when Sūnder wrapped his tail around Gabe’s calf, the shaking lessened.
Seeing the wounded seemed to galvanize Gabe. He commandeered the med kit one of the knights had pulled from the trunk of a vehicle, barking out orders like a commander in the field. Sūnder was pleased his knights obeyed Gabe without balking about taking orders from a human.
After Sūnder’s few minor injuries had been attended to, he followed Gabe—his hand or tail always touching Gabe in some way—as he sorted the wounded, putting the knights to work setting up a field triage unit until more help arrived. DarkHunters were usually solitary fighters, and more had fallen than survived. It was unheard of for so many to gather outside of E’drijān, let alone in a city on Earth. How had they come to be there in such numbers? The Ènts had warned of a trap, but Sūnder had taken it to mean the pollutants, not that darkhunters lay in wait. He should have been questioning the prisoners, but Sūnder couldn’t bring himself to move far from Gabe’s side.
Several emergency med units arrived, and a large human air transport flew in to hover overhead, the turret underneath swiveling but not firing upon them. A few minutes later the vehicle moved to land in the once-full parking lot, the humans visiting the park having long since fled the fighting. The air transport’s dark side doors slid quickly open as humans in battle suits jumped out and took up formation. To Sūnder’s surprise, A’yrē, Válora, Valiant, and High Druid Mèlindria also exited the air transport, followed by the king’s personal physician.
Sūnder raised his hand in greeting but didn’t move away from Gabe. Knights thumped clenched fists to their hearts and bowed low as Valiant and A’yrē passed.
“Sūnder!” Valiant’s call was like a roll of thunder.
Suddenly Gabe jumped to his feet, a sharp instrument in hand as he backed into Sūnder. “Leave him alone!” Gabe yelled, the trees of the park punctuating Gabe’s words with a bellowing roar.
Sūnder wrapped his arms around Gabe to keep him from lunging at Va
liant, and A’yrē sidled in front of their father.
“At ease.” Valiant waved the alarmed knights away before they could intervene. “He’s only human.” Valiant wasn’t being unkind. Humans were fragile, and the probability of a Chándariān being overpowered by one was extremely slim.
“Be calm, my Gabriel,” Sūnder murmured into Gabe’s ear. “This is my father, King Valiant.” The bitter stink of fear surrounding Gabe faded into the coolness of relief. The sour scent of stress didn’t dissipate, though, and Gabe stayed in Sūnder’s arms. But he did drop the instrument into the med kit and hold up his hands to show he was unarmed.
“My apologies, Your Majesty. You caught me off guard, and with the amount of people who have tried to kill Sūnder today, I reacted before thinking.” Responding to Gabe’s agitated movements, Sūnder held Gabe more tightly, but relaxed a little when Gabe pushed impatiently at his arms.
Valiant regarded Gabriel, his bright blue eyes assessing. He made an intimidating figure in his knight’s uniform of segmented black armor, his honey-gold mane tamed into two thick, plaited braids that fell over each shoulder. “My son is fortunate to have one such as you at his side. Captain Paulo tells me it was you who turned the tide of the darkhunter trap. I shall be eternally in your debt. If you ever need anything, you need only ask. You will always be welcome in my home and at my table.” With a flourish that astonished those who looked on, Valiant bowed low.
Without stepping away from Sūnder, Gabe bowed awkwardly back. “Thank you for the honor, Your Majesty?” The statement sounded more like a question, as if Gabe was unsure he’d given the proper response.
When Gabe rose, Sūnder pulled him back against his body. “You did well,” Sūnder whispered into his ear, hoping the encouragement would soothe Gabe’s frayed nerves. He might not show it, but Sūnder sensed Gabe rode the fine edge of being overwhelmed. Too much had transpired, and Gabe had reached his limit. Sūnder wanted to take Gabe away, somewhere it was only the two of them, to give Gabe the time he needed to process everything that’d happened. But the day’s events were probably only the beginning.
Although a small smile played at the corners of his father’s mouth, it didn’t displace the stern mask he wore.
High Druid Mèlindria broke away from their group to approach the gathered dròw males. As she was too far away to hear what was said, and she was L’fÿn, Sūnder kept a cautious eye on Mèlindria and the group of dròw, just in case.
Wearing armor similar to Valiant’s, her mane in a single long braid that fell to her waist, Válora swept around Valiant, closing the gap between them. “Sūnder, are you injured? We brought Lashūl with us.” Sūnder appreciated the way she managed to embrace him without once touching Gabe. Kissing Sūnder on the cheek, she stepped away, her attention refocusing on Gabe. She had always excelled at recognizing a fragile spirit.
Wide eyed, Gabe seemed to take in everything about Válora. Sūnder was surprised when, before she could say anything, Gabe asked, “Are you Princess Válora, Sūnder’s mother?”
Válora smiled wide, her blue eyes sparkling with merriment. “Yes, I am.”
It took a tug and a glare before Sūnder reluctantly released Gabe. He’d come too close to losing Gabe and didn’t want to let him go yet. Gabe stepped toward Válora, a cupped hand raised to the side of her jaw. She bent at the waist, allowing Gabe to kiss the other cheek. Before he pulled away, he whispered in her ear, “Thank you for not abandoning Sūnder.” If Sūnder hadn’t been standing so close, he wouldn’t have heard. Gabe kissed her again before he returned to Sūnder’s side.
Válora stayed bent for a long moment before she straightened. She blinked rapidly, and Sūnder thought she would say something, but she only gazed at Gabe as if she searched for a way to pack him up and take him home with her. Sūnder scowled, looping his arm around Gabe’s shoulders possessively.
Gabe cleared his throat. “Prince A’yrē, it is good to see you again. Staying away from the orange juice, I hope.”
Sūnder snorted as A’yrē preened awkwardly with the cast on his arm, his grin mischievous. “Nurse Gabriel, I had hoped to see you again under different circumstances.” The smile slipped a little. “Thank you for taking care of my brother.”
Mercifully, Paulo stepped forward and saved them from an awkward silence, giving Valiant a detailed verbal report. The human emergency personnel were caring competently for the wounded. The transport Sūnder had requested, to take the darkhunter prisoners to the Chándariān Embassy where they would be processed and sent to Sūnder’s warship at the orbital space station, was on its way.
The report finished, Sūnder pulled Gabe to the side, unable to keep from checking him over again, afraid he’d missed something. That Gabe didn’t tease or complain, only leaned heavily into Sūnder, spoke volumes about Gabe’s weariness. Sūnder needed to get Gabe away from the site soon. He worried about Gabe’s state of mind. Although Gabe was a nurse and had seen his fair share of wounds and blood, being embroiled in a battle was an altogether different matter. Add what had happened in the park beforehand, and Gabe’s uncanny ability to perform a magick of his own—the only explanation Sūnder could come up with for what had happened—Gabe had to be in shock.
A’yrē approached, taking note of the way Gabe was wrapped around Sūnder. A pleased light gleamed in his eyes. “Are the two of you truly unscathed?”
“Physically, we are fine, but we could do with some solitude,” Sūnder replied. A’yrē should easily hear what he hadn’t said; they’d both lived at court long enough for it to be second nature.
A’yrē’s gaze dropped to Gabe’s face, his eyes narrowing. “Father believes the two of you will best be out of harm’s way aboard your ship.” Gabe opened his mouth as if he would protest, but his teeth clacked back together, his jaw clenched, nothing said. “For the moment, at least,” A’yrē quickly added. “There are more knights stationed there, and L’fÿns wouldn’t be able to board unnoticed, as opposed to staying on Earth where it is much easier for them to get too close before being detected. He only wants the two of you safe while he sorts out what happened and why.”
Something indecipherable moved across Gabe’s expression, and unease settled between Sūnder’s shoulders. Gabe obviously didn’t like the suggestion, but didn’t complain or refuse. Yet. Was he waiting for a more private moment to object, or did he reluctantly agree? Sūnder would prefer to stay onplanet where his magicks could help defend them, but in this case his father was correct. A smaller, less open location, the ship was the safest place for them right now.
Having kept an eye on High Druid Mèlindria as she strolled around the battle site, treating the park’s Ènts with more caution than Sūnder thought warranted, he was the first of their group to notice her approach. She stared intently at Gabe as she neared, and Sūnder suppressed the urge to place himself between the two of them; with the current political climate, aggression from him would only feed the hostilities. He relaxed slightly when A’yrē edged closer, surreptitiously placing Gabe between them.
“Prince Sūnder, I am happy to see you alive and well.” Surprisingly, there was no spite or derision in the High Druid’s voice. Although he’d had limited experience with the druids, Sūnder had assumed she would treat him like the other L’fÿn did. Perhaps not. “Would you introduce me to your young man?”
Sūnder hesitated, thrown off by her civility. “Thank you for your concern, High Druid. This is Gabriel St. Baptista. Gabe, this is High Druid Mèlindria, Watcher of the Jade Forest of E’drijān.”
Gabe stiffened, wariness filling his scent, prompting Sūnder to take a better look at Mèlindria. Her black, silky robes were edged in white lace and seemed out of place considering the crimson-stained grass and dead lined up ready for transport behind her. The white glyphs of her position shone silver in the sunlight against her dark-gray skin. Did Gabe see something he didn’t? Behind the High Druid, several of the dròw who’d fought alongside Sūnder sidled closer, their curiosity palpabl
e.
“Are you one of those who seek to hurt Sūnder because he’s faeborn?” Gabe demanded. “I read that the L’fÿn druids and rangers were supposed to be peace keepers, to mediate and guard the forest. Is it not your responsibility to—” Gabe glanced away, jaw clenched. The spicy tang of Gabe’s anger filled the air as he shook. Sūnder ran a soothing hand down Gabe’s back. Although warmth coursed through Sūnder at the fact that Gabe would take the High Druid to task for his sake, Sūnder didn’t want Gabe to attack her.
High Druid Mèlindria bowed. “As Watcher, I am responsible for protecting those under my care, even faeborn males, and as you have pointed out, I have fulfilled only part of our duties.” Her gaze flicked to Sūnder, briefly reflecting regret before returning to Gabe. “Forgive me for my negligence. Once the Festival is over, there will be a conference between the L’fÿns, Panthrÿns, and Faelÿns. I hope to bring peace after five hundred years of prejudice. The silverhands called you Guardian, and I see they bear great wisdom. I would be honored if you would be my guest at the conference. All faeborn would be humbled if you deigned to attend.”
Why would Mèlindria want Gabe at that meeting? Sūnder growled deeply in warning. The dròw quickly moved to flank Mèlindria protectively, the nearest holding his hands out in a placating gesture. “Please, My Prince, she means no harm to the little guardian. She only desires his assistance.”
Instead of leaning closer, Gabe straightened. “You’re the one who saved me from the two darkhunters.”
The harsh features of the dròw’s face softened with his smile. “It was my honor to come to your aid, little Guardian. I am called A’ymon. My brothers and I are Runners of the SilverHand.” A’ymon took Gabe’s extended hand between his in a gesture of severe respect.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Runner A’ymon,” Gabe said with a small smile. “High Druid Mèlindria, if you need me there, I guess I can make this conference.”