Blood of the Guardian (16 page)

Turning to the water, he contemplated all the changes in his life this last year. His power. Nolan’s death and transformation. Taryn’s sacrifice. In many ways, his emotions were numb, like the Talasians. He had to close himself off to make it from day to day. Even death didn’t affect him as it should. He should
feel
more, shouldn’t he? He sighed, resting his chin on the rail, watching the body of the warrior bobbing, drifting out to sea.

Chapter Fourteen

THE LAST FEW DAYS ON THE SHIP, King Kamalin looked at Alec differently. All the warriors did. Instead of the freakish stares—as if he were an exotic, wild animal—they looked at him with expressions that could
almost
pass for respect.

As they approached their destination, Alec gripped the rails, his excitement building at the prospect of getting off the boat. Finally, he’d get to go home. His joy quickly deflated. Father had picked up his forge and moved to Faylinn in the heart of the Rol’dan. Alec didn’t have a home anymore.

The ship followed the shore, far enough out so the oars’ steady strokes wouldn’t skim the shallow waters. The shoreline had become rockier, with large boulders cluttering the edges. When they rounded a bend, the city of Faylinn broke into view. The castle, and its surrounding walled fortress, seemed even grander from the sea.

A row of huge Rol’dan flags adorned the shore, six of them, each representing one of the six Shay powers. They flapped gently in the breeze, adding sound to the silence on the boat. Towers thrust up past the flags, where torches were once lit at night to protect them from the Dor’Jan.

The quiet on the ship shifted dramatically; warriors dashed along the deck preparing to land, their sharp voices barking orders. For the first time in his life, Alec was
glad
to see Faylinn.

He stared across the water. Finally, he would get off the nightforsaken boat. Finally, he would put his feet on dry land. Part of him, however, would miss the ship and the steady calm of its crew. It had given him hours to think on things, to focus on the dramatic changes in his life.

A presence touched his elbow. Alec turned, expecting to see Rayen; they’d spent a lot of time together these last few days. Instead, Alec’s excitement deflated like a sliced water skin. Jezebelle stood next to him with one of her telltale sneers.

“We’ll finally be able to get off this boat, boy.”

Alec snorted. “I thought you’d fallen overboard.”

Jezebelle tossed a long braid over her shoulder. “With the old man interpreting, I figured I’d find better ways to occupy myself.”

Alec didn’t want to even consider how she’d spent her time.

“You’d be surprised,” she said. “I’ve had lots of discussions. Apparently you’re quite a fighter. I guess those aren’t slave scars after all.”

“I’m so glad you cleared that up.” Alec shook his head, feigning relief. “And I was worried I’d been a slave.”

“And what of the old man? Eh?” she said, ignoring his sarcasm. “He heals wounds but his eyes glow white instead of green. He’s a bit of an oddity, I would say.”

“He’s a Guardian.” Not that Alec cared about her curiosity, but he liked watching her squirm.

Her arrogant expression flattened. “A … what?”

“A Guardian. A warrior of light. Huge, light-infused beings with the power of all six.” He turned to get a better look at her shock. “He hides as an old man. The first time I saw his true form, I tried to run away.”

Jezebelle blinked, her astonishment displayed magnificently across her face.

Alec continued, “Alcandor was a Guardian, too. That’s why he was so powerful and why he lived so long.”

“Alcandor?” she said. “King Alcandor?” Her eyes fixed over his shoulder in thought and then snapped back to him. “What do you mean
lived
? Is he dead?”

“No. He’s alive … unfortunately. They locked him away in Faylinn.”

On the shore, a group of Rol’dan soldiers formed into ranks, organized into the different power sects. A group of Strength Rol’dan, sporting the red capes of their station, stood in one formation. Next to them stood a unit of soldiers wearing short blue capes and longbows over their backs: the Accuracy Rol’dan. Some others wore golden capes for Speed. And still more with the orange of Perception. An assembly of Empathy soldiers stood at attention, their violet capes flapping gently in the breeze.

Off to the side, black-robed Healers gathered, adorned with their green sashes. Alec shuddered when he saw them. He hoped they weren’t here for anything specific. Healers and trouble often went hand in hand.

At the front of the group stood General Kael Trividar, his legs spread apart slightly and his hands on his hips. A man, taller and broader than the rest, stood next to him—the only one not dressed in a uniform. The orange light of Perception flared in Nolan’s eyes. Alec waved, knowing Nolan watched.

“Is the Emissary a Guardian as well?” Jezebelle asked.

Alec smiled. He rather enjoyed messing with her head. “No. He’s something else.”

Blissful silence followed. Let her chew on
that
for a while.

The oars stopped, and the boat drifted forward before numerous stone anchors were thrown over the side. King Kamalin emerged on deck with Rayen. Greer approached next, followed by several tattooed warriors.

“Come, Alec,” Greer said. “They have a boat waiting for us. It is time to go ashore.”

***

The moment they stepped off the boat, Alec wished he could get back on. His vision swayed, his legs wobbled, and his stomach lurched. An arm steadied him, and Alec pulled his eyes from the bobbing tree line to the amused smirk of Nolan.

“How was your trip?” Nolan asked.

“You know I’ll have to kill you now.”

Nolan grinned, but it seemed strained. “You might have some reverse seasickness.”

“
Reverse
seasickness?”

“Or you haven’t gotten your land legs, pretty much the same thing.”

“Oh, for Brim’s sake!” Alec had finally gotten used to the boat, and now he couldn’t walk on land? “How long will
this
last?”

Nolan shrugged. “Few hours. Few days. A week or so … Depends on the person.”

Alec cursed. At least he’d be vomiting normal food for a change.

Greer approached and nodded to Nolan. He touched Alec’s arm, sending a pulse of healing energy into him. The trees stopped lurching, and his eyes focused on a second boat bumping alongside the dock.

The warriors who’d accompanied Greer and himself pulled the boat to shore. King Kamalin stepped out with catlike grace, flanked by six heavily tattooed warriors, three on each side. Kamalin wore his traditional garb—meaning the useless skin flap covering his personal areas. However, this time, intricate beads adorned the fabric. Beaded jewelry hung around his neck, partially covering his tattooed chest, and a beaded leather strap—with several precious stones of red and blue and yellow—rested on his brow, resembling a crown.

Rayen stood at his side, wearing a leather dress covered in the colored beads like her father. Her hair hung in shiny strands, taken out of her typical braid. She was beautiful. But the more he studied her, the more he noticed how pale she’d become. Maybe she also suffered from this reverse seasickness.

General Trividar bowed. “Lord Kamalin. Welcome to Adamah.”

Greer translated for Kael.

Nolan’s brow furrowed. “When did Greer start speaking Talasian?”

“He learned on the boat.”

Jezebelle strode past the gathered soldiers, as if they weren’t even there. She continued toward the forest edge, glanced over her shoulder once, and ducked into the trees.

“So how’d it go with the gypsy?” Nolan asked.

“Let’s just say I’m glad Greer learned their language quickly. Not sure if she helped us much; she tried to get me killed.”

“Would’ve been quite an accomplishment.”

Alec shrugged, smiling. “It’s been done before.”

“Her gypsy friends showed up a few days ago. They made camp right at the edge of our forest.”

“Bet that went over well.”

“Not so much,” Nolan said, his eyes glowing violet. His gaze swept across the soldiers, examining them.

Kael led the gathering of Talasians and Rol’dan toward the castle. Nolan and Alec followed. All the while, Nolan’s eyes glowed fiercely, brighter than Alec had seen them before.

“So what’s with the glowing Empathy thing?” Alec asked.

“Trying to hold back a war.”

Alec noticed how relaxed he felt. He looked over at Nolan and noticed his trembling arms. “You okay?”

Nolan shook his head. “Not now. Need to get the king inside.”

Alec scanned the soldiers, and even with Nolan’s soothing, hate etched the faces of several Rol’dan. If Nolan was soothing them, what were they like on their own?

Not until they entered the castle and the throne room door closed, did Nolan’s tense posture relax. His large shoulders slumped, and he ran a hand over his face. The violet light faded back to normal sky blue. Frown lines creased his face. His clothes were wrinkled, his hair slightly messy. He looked even more exhausted than Alec.

Emery emerged from a door near the throne, striding with confident steps. Alec knew him well enough to see the strain on his face, but he masked it pretty well. He climbed the platform, this time sporting a wardrobe in dark purple, including the long cloak, which billowed around his feet. A woman followed Emery, taking a position at his side. She wore an expensive looking dress. Light blue silk or something—he never knew much about fabrics—with lots of fancy stitching and lacy stuff. It took Alec a moment to realize the noble woman was Megan. Alec pressed his eyes together and opened them again.
Crows!
Megan looked great.

On Emery’s other side stood Malik and Sanawen in their human forms. Alec supposed they didn’t want to scare the Talasians the moment they walked through the door with their giant, glowing warrior forms.

Next to the Guardians stood Maska—or at least it was someone who resembled Maska. He wore the clothes of a nobleman, including …
boots
? Had Maska worn boots before? Alec couldn’t remember him ever wearing anything on his feet. He looked so strange. Alec smiled, amused, until he saw the reaction from the Talasians.

The tattooed warriors leaned together, their strange tongue oddly harsh. A murmur swelled around them. King Kamalin’s expression fell briefly as his gaze locked on Maska, rage flashing across his face before he hid it away.

Apparently, they knew each other—and didn’t like each other well.

Emery inhaled and stepped forward, forcing a smile. He approached Kamalin, his eyes flared violet with his Shay. Either he was trying to soothe them or sense the Talasian king’s emotions. Alec suspected a little of both.

Emery extended his hand. “Welcome. I am honored by your visit.”

Kamalin glanced at Emery’s outstretched hand, but his remained at his side. He bowed his head slightly and spoke.

“Thank you for your welcome,” Greer translated. “I hope our lands can remain at peace.”

“As do I, friend.”

Kamalin motioned to his side, and Rayen stepped forward.

“To continue the friendship between our lands,” Greer translated, “I offer my daughter, Rayen, to bind our lands in marriage.”

Alec inhaled sharply.
Marriage? That’s why she came?
But she’s only a girl. Fourteen. Fifteen at the most. How can she marry Emery?

Emery’s mouth parted. He hesitated, his smile wavering. His gaze flicked to Rayen, giving her a brief inspection, and then he inhaled slowly and spoke again.

“Thank you for such a generous and beautiful gift, friend. However, I regret that I cannot accept.”

Greer translated, and Kamalin’s gaze on Emery intensified. He didn’t show any anger, but Alec wondered if he seethed inside.

Emery motioned to Megan. She stepped from the platform, walked slowly across the throne room, and joined him.

Emery took Megan’s hand. “I cannot take your beautiful daughter, good King Kamalin, because I am already wed.”

Chapter Fifteen

ALEC JOGGED TO KEEP UP with Nolan after the introductions had died away. Both kings retreated into the conference room, which, oddly enough, was Alcandor’s old bedchamber. It had been gutted and refurnished with a table and chairs. Something strange had happened since Alec had left Faylinn. One moment, Emery sent Alec on a rescue mission to save Megan from an unknown illness. The next, she was … queen? How in Brim’s light did
that
happen?

“Hey,” Alec said. “Wait up.”

Nolan hesitated in his strides, then finally stopped.

“Emery and Megan are married? When?”

“This morning.”

“Crows, that was quick.” Alec shook his head. “I didn’t even know they were, you know, interested.”

“They’ve liked each other for a while.”