He jumped up, all the powers of the Shay exploding from him at once. Without knocking, he rushed Kat’s door, exploding it into the room with his combined Strength and Speed. All four people inside fell as splinters impaled them. It was at that moment Nolan took in his surroundings.
Three drunken men had made the grievous mistake of trying to take advantage of Kat. Two were partially bound, covered in small sword slashes, looking as if they wished they’d made a different decision.
The third man, who Kat had been fighting at the time of Nolan’s over-zealous entrance, now cursed and thrashed on the floor with a large wooden spike piercing his thigh.
Kat unsettled Nolan the most. She glared at Nolan as she yanked a large fragment from her shoulder, another from her side, and one from her calf.
“My lord Emissary!” she said. “Thank you, but I had it under control.”
Nolan blinked. She was right, of course. Those pathetic drunks stood no chance against her.
She limped over to the man on the ground. In a not-so-kind way, she dislodged the offending spike, sending the man into another round of profanity.
“Shut your mouth,” she ordered, “or else I’ll shove the ruddy thing back in.”
The man did as he was told.
Kat flung the bloody piece aside and limped to Nolan, her face set in a deep scowl. Blood soaked through her fingers where she held her hand over her arm.
“If you wouldn’t mind,” she said with controlled rage, “heal me, please.”
Nolan didn’t say anything, but he hesitated, trying to figure out where it would be best to put his hand. He needed to touch skin, and the most convenient (and least intrusive) spot would be her cheek. However, he had the odd sensation one gets as they contemplate petting a dog and fearing it will bite.
Kat sighed and yanked her shirt open to reveal her shoulder. “Please, my lord.” She met his eyes, and her features softened.
He forced a faint smile. “Of course.” Then, tentatively, he placed his hand on her.
His Healing responded instantly, and he warmed as the green light blazed from his eyes. Healing energy pulsed down through his arm into her shoulder. She trembled, and her head tilted, her lips parting.
Nolan barely noticed the stab of pain as he absorbed her wounds; her expression mesmerized him. Straight, white teeth peeked from her open lips. Long lashes. Short brown hair with subtle curls. He surfaced a touch of Empathy to feel her emotions.
Longing and pleasure washed over her. Her eyes snapped open, and she stared at him, eyes wide. Grabbing his hand, she held it in place. Her green and yellow eyes searched his face, as if she wanted to say something but didn’t dare.
“What?” Nolan asked. His large palm warmed in hers.
She shook her head, her emotions radiating too many things to pinpoint just one.
“Kat?”
She pressed her lips together in defiance, refusing to answer.
A throat cleared behind them.
Nolan turned, yanking his hand from hers. Alec stood a few steps into the room, a package tucked under his arm, and his eyebrows raised as far as they could go.
“Um … Sorry,” Alec said. “I heard a commotion.” He started backing out of the room. “I would shut the door, but it’s … ”
Nolan noticed the drunks had seized the opportunity and fled. He blinked as realization swept over him. He’d removed his makeshift garment in bed, and he’d forgotten to put it back on. Ah, crows! Heat rose to his neck and face.
Kat yanked her own blanket off her bed and handed it to him, her cheeks flushing.
“So we can talk in the morning, eh?” Alec said, smirking.
“Wait!” Nolan blurted. “It’s not what you think.”
Alec snorted and held his palms toward him. “It’s none of my business.”
Nolan tied the woolen blanket around his waist. “There were some men in here. I had only come to help.”
“More men?” Alec’s smile widened. “Lieutenant Connelly, I had no idea you were that kind of girl.”
Kat’s face abruptly went from pink to red. Her anger ignited like a forge coal. She summoned her Speed, and her eyes flared golden yellow.
“Wait!” Alec said in mock fear. “I saw them leaving when I came in. Greer is talking to them about how stupid they were.”
“I think they’ve figured that out already.” Nolan scowled. “Wasn’t it your turn to watch the gypsy?”
The mirth on Alec’s face fell.
“Alec?” Kat said. “Where is she?”
“Um. Not sure.”
“You’re not sure?” Nolan said. “I asked you to watch her for a couple hours. What do you mean you’re not sure?”
“The noise up here got everyone’s attention. She only just slipped away.”
Kat cursed and shoved her uniform on over her nightclothes. “She probably hasn’t gone too far.”
“I’ll take a look outside.” Alec turned to leave then stopped. “Oh, I almost forgot.” He tossed Nolan the bundle he’d been holding. “I bought these off a big guy. They might be a bit short but should work otherwise.”
Nolan unfolded the bundle: a stained pair of breeches.
Kat shoved by Alec out the door. “Come on.”
Nolan didn’t know whether to be grateful for the clothes or annoyed at Alec for not giving them to him when he first came in.
The golden-yellow light of Speed flared in Alec’s eyes. “Better get going before—”
“Alec!” Kat scolded from the hall.
Alec rolled his eyes. “Too late.” Then, saying nothing more, he shot away.
Nolan breathed a sigh of relief and unfastened the wool blanket.
Some muttered whispers sounded at the door. A group of people, probably bar-goers, were too curious to restrain themselves any longer and had wandered upstairs, peering through the opening. Horror emanated from them when they saw Nolan. A scurrying sound followed as they disappeared.
“Oh, for Brim’s sake,” Nolan murmured. He stepped into the hallway in time to see another pair of drunks make their way up the stairs.
Nolan ignored their panicked faces and turned toward his own room. He entered and closed the door, submerging himself in the semi-darkness, thankful for the solitude once again.
He let the blanket drop from his waist and stepped into his newly adopted clothes. They didn’t smell so good, but at that moment, he didn’t care. As he pulled them up, a voice joined him in the darkness.
“No need to put those on for me.” A light flickered to life.
The gypsy girl held the flame in her hand and brought it to the lamp on the side table. Nolan blinked, adjusting to the light. What magic is this? As the lantern flickered brighter, he saw a small twig in her hand. She shook out the flame.
“How’d you do that?” Nolan asked.
She smiled. “The plants of our world hold all sorts of properties. One only needs to learn which ones to combine.”
“You can make fire?”
She shrugged.
“Why are you here, gypsy?”
“It’s Jezebelle,” she said as her bottom lip jutted in a pout. “If you order me around like a slave, the least you can do is order me by name.” Jezebelle closed the distance to him. “They call you Emissary. Why?” She touched his chest.
He caught her wrist. “Why are you here?”
“Why do you think? Isn’t it obvious?”
He summoned his Empathy and dug into her mind. Desire lingered, but something else hid behind it, something he couldn’t quite place. “No. Why else are you here?”
A flare of anger spiked in her emotions, as well as apprehension.
A quick rap sounded on his door before it opened. Alec pushed inside, a deep scowl on his brow.
“We can’t find—” He glared and crossed his arms over his chest. “I thought we had an agreement.”
“Ah, yes, quite the agreement,” she said. “You allow me to breathe if I don’t leave the inn. I kept my part of
the bargain.”
“That doesn’t mean you disappear without telling me.”
“You act like I’m a villain. I promised I would go on the boat, silly boy.” She feigned an expression of innocence and wrapped her hands around Nolan’s arm. Her perfume was strong—an odd combination of lavender and cinnamon. “As you see, I’m in very good hands.”
Nolan shrugged her off. “Go with Alec.”
The flirtatious nature in her emotions plummeted. “It’s your loss, Emissary.” She strode across the room, turned, and whipped a braided lock over her shoulder.
Nolan remembered what Greer had shared, about Guardians being able to read minds. He didn’t trust this gypsy any more than Alcandor. She was hiding something, and doing an excellent job of it. Nolan searched in himself, focusing on his Guardian power.
A faint voice filled Nolan’s head. “This isn’t over, freak. You will be mine.”
Chapter Six
NOLAN AND KATE TRAVELED IN SILENCE back to Faylinn. They had left Renfrew earlier that morning, sending Alec and Greer on the Talasian ship with the reluctant gypsy. Alec had stabbed Nolan with a full set of imaginary eye daggers as a trio of warriors rowed him toward the Talasian ship. Nolan would have to be careful the next time they met. Revenge clung to Alec’s emotions like a second skin.
The gypsy’s silent words from the night before kept taunting him. “This isn’t over, freak. You will be mine.” What had she meant, besides the obvious freak part? She was up to something, but he didn’t know what. At least he’d have time to figure it out before they arrived in Faylinn. He snorted. Time or space never helped him understand girls. Or worse yet, women.
“What’s wrong?” Kat asked.
Nolan pulled his attention from his empty plate. He’d long since finished his rations. He and Kat sat in a small clearing in the forest, at one of the many permanent encampments in Adamah. They’d stuck to the roads, though they didn’t need to. The Dor’Jan had disappeared three months ago; the soulless creatures were all but extinct. But still, running with Speed Shay was a lot safer on the paths. It kept them from tripping over random roots or stones.
“Nothing,” Nolan answered. “Just thinking about things.”
Their eyes met and unspoken questions passed between them. From their weeks of travel, he’d become good at reading her. And as each day passed, she’d held back her emotions less and less. The incident in her room the previous night made everything even more awkward. Today, she stared at him, her hazel eyes examining his face, expectant.
“Not those things,” he added.
Annoyance ticked from her emotions. “So when are we going to talk about those things, Lord Emissary?”
“When you start calling me Nolan.”
She opened her mouth to object, then closed it. A smiled crept to her face. “So if I call you Nolan, then we’ll talk about what’s happening between us?”
He stood and shoved things in his bag. He didn’t want to discuss it, especially not with her. “We need to get moving.”
Kat grabbed his arm. “You sense emotions. You know how I feel.”
Nolan paused and then nodded once.
“I don’t have Empathy,” she said, giving his arm a squeeze, “but I know you feel something too.”
She released him, but not before dragging her fingers down his bare arm as she stepped away. His skin warmed more than it should have with so little clothes on. He hadn’t found a shirt that could fit him, and he only wore the old, tattered breeches.
She started packing, glancing at him now and then.
Nolan cleared his throat. “It shouldn’t take us long to get to the castle.”
She flung the bag over her shoulder and winked. “We’ll just see who gets there first.” And with that, her eyes blazed yellow, and she was gone.
He kept up with her for a while but soon realized that she ran faster. At one point, she left the trail and went into the forest. Nolan followed, dodging branches and jumping over rocks. He focused his Precision so he wouldn’t slam into a tree. And as the race continued, she eventually lost him.
Finally, Nolan broke through the tree line next to the clearing in front of Faylinn. He inhaled deep gasps of air and waited for his racing heart to slow. The breeze, which had been blocked by trees, hit his body, cooling the layer of sweat coating his skin. He leaned on his knees as he caught his breath. After resting briefly, he stood, dislodging the fabric sticking to his thighs. He’d been grateful to have something to wear, but he couldn’t wait to get out of these pathetic breeches.
He turned and found Kat sitting against a tree as if she’d been waiting there all day. She studied him.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Enjoying the view.”
“What vie—” Realization smacked him. He gawked at her as his jaw dropped open.
She stood, and an evil grin spread across her face.
Nolan turned, his ears warming. The thin garment clung to him, but he wasn’t about to adjust them now, even if they wedged up his backside. He ran a hand over his chin. What am I going to do with this girl?
His embarrassment slipped away as his eyes drifted to the walls of Faylinn. Normally, soldiers kept watch over the field, standing on the towering walls of Faylinn surrounding the castle and its keep. But the positions where the Perception Rol’dan typically stood were empty. A smattering of birds—a black raven and a few blue and brown tacsso birds—perched on the ledge.
“That’s odd,” Kat said as she came next to him.
It was odd. He’d never seen the wall deserted. Even during the reign of Alcandor, when no one dared attack, they never left their posts. Nolan summoned his Perception and focused inside the walls.
He could hear voices and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Is everything okay?” Kat asked.
“I think so. There’s a group at the practice field. Maybe a training exercise …” His words drifted away as he listened harder. It was no exercise. More like an argument. No. Definitely a fight … about boots.
“I choose not to wear them,” Maska’s low voice answered.
“And your shirt?” another voice growled.
“I do not have to—”
The sound of a fist impacting with bone interrupted him.
Nolan flared his Speed, and Kat followed at his heels.
The six manors, one for each power sect, encircled the large green expanse where the Shay Rol’dan trained. A thick air of hatred spewed from their emotions.
Nolan and Kat skidded to stop, both staring at the soldiers.
“Oh. It’s just a fight,” Kat said, her tense shoulders relaxing. Apparently, she’d seen her fair share of Rol’dan brawling during her years in their ranks.
However, Nolan knew it was different. Maska was involved.
“Lord Emissary,” Kat said. “What’s wrong?”
Nolan searched the crowd. Finally, he saw Maska in the center of the ring of bodies, his dark skin contrasting against the other soldiers. The bearded soldiers cheered the fighters on, their emotions radiating with cruelty, not just glee.
Maska was obviously outnumbered—because he was Talasian, he didn’t have many friends here in Faylinn. The Rol’dan soldiers hated him. Nolan went into the conflict, pushing past men too entranced by the fight to even notice him.
Kat trailed him. “Lord Emissary. It’s just a fight. These idiots do this stupid stuff all the time.”
Nolan shoved through them, his heart accelerating. He stopped, gawking at the sight of Maska.
Nolan awakened his Empathy, clenching his hands into fists as the power shook through his limbs. He threw it out in a visible wave of light, freezing them like stone.
Staggering, his eyesight blurred as he adjusted to the release of his power. He turned to Kat, but he’d frozen her as well.
With a touch on her arm, he released her.
She stumbled. “Stop doing …” Her words choked in her throat at the sight.
Maska lay
on the ground, his cheek collapsed, his nose broken. One side of his face was crushed in. He too was frozen, but the blood continued to flow. Nolan knelt, searching for signs of life. A faint heartbeat met his Perception ears.
Nolan reached for him, then hesitated. He’d never healed this kind of injury before. Bracing himself, he touched Maska’s chest, and his Shay of Healing reacted instantly.
Sledgehammer pain struck Nolan’s face, and his cheekbone collapsed. As hard as he tried to hold it back, he screamed. He recovered briefly before a new wave of pain washed over him. His ribs broke, and his arm cracked with a loud pop. He absorbed every deep bruise and the internal damage inflicted by the stone-hard punches of the Strength Rol’dan. He collapsed to his knees, barely able to maintain contact, while Kat held his hand against Maska’s bloodied chest.
Finally, his pain closed over, healing the last injury. He collapsed onto shaking hands, feeling spent of Brim’s light.
As his breathing calmed, he opened his eyes to the concerned gaze of his brother, Kael Trividar, general of the Rol’dan army.
“What in the Darkness is going on here?” Kael growled.
Nolan smiled weakly. “Good to see you, brother.” He then noticed the soldiers around him. Somehow, he’d maintained their frozen state. With a pathetic wave of his arm, he released them, and the group jerked back to normal.
“Well?” Kael said, his eyes going from one guilty-looking face to another.
“They tried to kill Maska,” Kat answered.
“Certainly they aren’t that stupid.” Kael paced in front of the soldiers, stopping at a short, athletic man dressed in the red tunic and cape of the Strength Rol’dan. A thick brown and gray beard hung midway down his chest. Blood coated the soldier’s fist, and his face held a smug expression.
“Captain Ekon,” Kael said. “You will meet me in the throne room.”
“But I have responsibilities, General, sir.”
Kael’s eyes brightened with the golden-yellow light of Speed. He closed his hand over the hilt of his sword. “You will go to the throne room, dead or alive. Your choice.”
Ekon’s arrogant face fell flat. “As you wish, my general.”
Blood of the Guardian Page 4