Blood of the Guardian (9 page)

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Authors: Kristal Shaff

BOOK: Blood of the Guardian
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Emery’s anger left abruptly. “So you know what it is?”

Nolan nodded but didn’t answer.

“Come on, friend. I need to know.”

Nolan swallowed before answering. “She’s dreaming about her night with Alcandor.”

Emery’s face paled. Emery, of all people, could sympathize. “And what else? You aren’t telling me everything.”

“I … um … ” He hesitated. “I used both Empathy and Healing to absorb her emotions.”

“You can do that?” Emery’s face paled a second time. “Which is why you attacked Kat. No wonder Megan can’t rest. It’s taken me years to get over those memories.”

Nolan didn’t say anything, but he knew Emery
still
hadn’t gotten over it.

“No amount of soothing will get her past this,” Emery added. “We need to give her some time.”

“And I doubt she’ll be letting you sneak into her room anymore.”

Emery ran a hand through his hair. “No. Probably not.”

Nolan summoned his Perception, listening to the girls in the room. They whispered, gossiping. Nolan yanked back his power.

Emery eyed him. “So what’s happening in there?”

“They’re talking about us.”

Emery leaned in, curiosity lacing his emotions. “And?”

“Do you really want to know?”

Emery shuddered. “You’re right. It’s better we don’t.”

Even so, they didn’t move from their place in the hall. Feet shifting. Hands wringing. Their arms twitched with nervous tension.

Finally, Emery spoke. “Go ahead. Maybe we can do something to help?”

Nolan snorted. “Haven’t we done enough?”

They both forced a nervous laugh. But curiosity took over, and Nolan again directed his Perception into Megan’s room. He tuned out the crackling fireplace. They weren’t talking anymore, thank Brim. Steady breathing signified Megan’s peaceful slumber as well as the stress-free beating of her heart.

“Megan’s asleep.”

Emery released a long sigh. “Maybe she can get some rest tonight.”

Nolan directed his Perception farther and heard Kat. She, unfortunately, didn’t sleep. Her heart beat quickly, excitedly. Apparently, she hadn’t quite recovered from their little Alcandor-induced fling.

As Nolan pulled back, he caught another sound. He focused on something softer and quicker. It was almost inaudible, like a whisper. His stomach dropped, and he felt the blood leave his face.

“What is it?” Emery asked.

Nolan focused in once more, hearing the unmistakable sound. Clarity filled his mind. The tiredness. Her inability to eat. Part of him was relieved; at least she wasn’t sick or dying. But the truth opened a whole new problem, one without an easy answer.

“Nolan. For Brim’s sake, what’s wrong?”

Nolan hesitated and ran a hand over his chin. “Megan is with child.”

Chapter Eight

 

NOLAN STOOD IN THE THRONE ROOM waiting for the others. He’d slept little; Megan’s vision haunted him too much to concentrate on anything else. The bed. Alcandor. The ropes cutting into his wrists—no,
her
wrists. It had all seemed so vivid and real. And even though he’d caught only a glimpse of what she’d endured with Alcandor, it still made him shiver.

He shifted his weight and straightened his freshly washed tunic. Cracking his knuckles, he stared at the open doorway. What was taking everyone so long? The topic of this meeting, Megan and her new problem, opened Nolan’s mind to endless possibilities. Could Alcandor father a child? And if so, what did that mean for Nolan? Could he have a future with a wife? Did Nolan dare consider a normal life? Not that he was normal, but at least he could cling to a glimmer of possibility. There was far too much he still didn’t know, far too many unanswered questions. He wouldn’t let his hopes rise until he knew more.

He’d turned down Megan just a few months ago, using his inability to have children as one of many excuses to end their budding relationship. In the end, it was best; Megan and Emery cared for each other, far more than either wanted to admit, even to themselves.

Malik and Sanawen entered, both splendid in their Guardian forms. Malik towered over any human, a monster of a man with cropped, golden waves hanging down the sides of his face. He had no facial hair, with well-defined jawbones and cheeks. And like all Guardians, white light glowed around him. Even in his human form, women thought he was handsome. At least that’s what the awestruck village girls had said.

Sanawen, the only female Guardian, had silver locks waving down the length of her back. Both she and Malik were dressed in armor: massive plate-covered chests; shining, light-infused bracers; and intricately decorated greaves covering their legs. They stood, side by side, examining Nolan.

“Master Nolan,” Malik said with a subtle nod. “How was your journey?”

Oh, I nearly died. And the townspeople were too afraid of me to even listen to reason.
He sighed. “It was fine.”

Malik raised a single brow.

After a few moments, Kael arrived in his freshly pressed uniform consisting of a golden tunic, waist-length cape, leather jerkin, and knee-high boots fastened with a row of shiny brass buttons. He caught Nolan’s eyes, concern and tension lacing his emotions. “I hope this meeting isn’t about the rumors.”

“Rumors? What rumors?”

Kael scowled. “It’s hard to keep secrets in a place such as this, dear brother. Too many nosy Perception Rol’dan.”

Nolan wanted to ask more, but he hesitated when Emery entered with his aqua cloak flowing behind. He didn’t join them; instead, he walked past into an open door at the far side of the throne room. “Come on,” he said as he disappeared through the door.

The Guardians followed without comment. Kael, on the other hand, inhaled sharply, his posture stiffening.

“What’s wrong?” Nolan asked.

“Nothing,” Kael snapped. The lie reeked so thickly from him, Nolan hardly needed Empathy to feel it.

As soon as Nolan entered the room, he understood in horrific clarity. The ornate tapestries. The four-poster bed. It was straight from Megan’s dream. They stood in Alcandor’s bedchamber.

It’s where Alcandor had violated Megan, and Emery, and even Kael. It explained the reaction from his brother and why Emery had a trail of sweat running down his face and chin.

Emery’s hand shook as he pointed toward the door. “Close it.”

Malik obeyed.

“Why bring us in here?” Kael asked, his voice lowered, his teeth clenched.

Emery swiped his arm across his cheek. “The room’s walls are coated with Guardian steel. It’s the only place we can speak freely. It blocks all noise, including conversations Perception are able to hear.” His eyes glowed lightly, the purple light of his Empathy illuminating. “I’m sorry to bring you here, but it’s necessary.”

Emery’s soothing passed over them. Kael’s tense shoulders relaxed, but only slightly; his heartbeat slowed, and he released a slow sigh. His Empathy had helped everyone, except himself.

Emery took a stuttering breath, cleared his throat, and spoke. “Megan is with child.”

“What?” Kael said. “By Brim, it’s true?”

“What’s true, General?” Emery asked.

“The rumors.”

Emery’s brow furrowed. “Enlighten me.”

Kael’s mouth snapped closed. He pressed his lips together, hesitating.

“Out with it, General. What have you heard?”

“Your Majesty,” Kael said, “people are saying you’ve been bedding her.”

Emery cursed and ran a hand through his black hair. “And who’s spreading these rumors?”

“Why, nearly everyone, Your Majesty. There will be no surprise when you announce your child—”

“It’s not my child!”

The room fell silent. Nolan had never heard Emery yell before. When Emery had confronted him in the village, when he thought Nolan had been killing others to gain their powers—even then, Emery had a steady calm in his rage. It was nothing like the outburst of emotions from him now.

“Whose then?” Kael’s expression fell as realization hit him; his face paled.

Emery turned toward the Guardians. “Is it possible? Can a Guardian father a child?”

“It is possible,” Malik answered. “However, joining with a human is unwise and disrespectful.”

Kael snorted. “
That’s
never stopped Alcandor.”

Malik uncrossed his arms, fists at his side. “Alcandor?
He
has done this?”

“Can you tell us what kind of child it will be?” Emery asked, diverting the question. “Will it be … human?”

Malik’s white, glowing eyes flicked to Nolan. Both Kael’s and Emery’s heads turned toward Nolan, mouths open.

“Crows, Kael,” Nolan said. “We’re brothers, for Brim’s sake. Our parents are human.”

“I imagine the child would be something
similar
to Nolan,” Malik added. “However, the blood of a Guardian would run through the child’s veins. I have never known any Guardian child to survive the birth from a human mother. They all die with the mother.”

Nolan stepped back as if someone smacked him. He grabbed the bedpost, steadying as his head swam.
Both mother and baby die?
Any contemplation of a life with a girl—any girl—snuffed out in a puff of smoke. Then, the realization of a more pressing threat hit him.
Megan will … die?
He ran a hand over his chin, his head heavy and thick. What would they do?

Emery rubbed shaking hands together. “Can we remove it?”

“The child?” Malik asked. “No. In the past, all attempts proved fatal, for both mother and child.”

Emery closed his eyes, defeated. Then he opened them and stared at Kael intently. A spark of hope flared to life in him. “Maska. We need to speak with Maska.”

Kael brightened. “Of course. Maska. I’d almost forgotten.”

Emery forced a smile. “General, could you please—”

“I’ll get him immediately.” Kael’s eyes flared yellow, and he zipped away.

The rest of them waited, tense energy clouding the room. Nolan looked up, expecting to see Nass
filling the ceiling, but saw nothing. Then he remembered what Brim had told him: Only those who have not taken the light produce them. He’d been so immersed with the common people of Renfrew, and their fresh supply of Nass, he’d nearly forgotten what it was like to be without them again.

Emery paced, bringing Nolan’s attention to him again while they waited for Kael to return.
What did Maska have to do with anything? How was Maska going to save her?

Nolan pulled on his Guardian abilities, wanting to read Emery; however, Emery fortified his mind like the stone walls of Faylinn.

His eyes flicked to Nolan’s. He didn’t say anything, but he gave Nolan a subtle shake of his head. Nolan pulled back, ashamed. Of course, Emery didn’t want him dipping into his mind.
Especially not here
. They stood in the room where Alcandor had abused Emery for seventeen years.

Finally, someone approached, their steps cutting across the throne room floor. Maska’s complaints echoed through the expanse of the room. Apparently, his mood hadn’t improved.

Kael entered first, followed by Maska. However, the moment Maska set foot inside the room, his posture stiffened. His dark eyes darted, flashing red with Strength. He muttered a Talasian word that sounded much like a curse.

He wore only leather breeches. No shirt. No shoes. Wet hair clung to his face, as if Kael had pulled him from a bath. He inhaled slowly before speaking. “Emery, why do you bring me here?”

Emery motioned to an overstuffed chair, but Maska stood erect, his muscled arms crossed tightly over his olive-colored chest. Kael closed the door, sealing their privacy.

“Thank you for coming, Maska,” Emery said. “I’m sorry, but it’s the only place where we can speak privately.”

A scowl fixed between Maska’s dark eyebrows. “What do you want?”

“What happened the night you were taken to this room?” Emery asked.

Maska’s head dropped, his gaze fixing to the ground.

“I know it’s hard, Maska. But it’s important.”

“Why?”

“Because Megan is with child.”

Maska’s head shot up. He stepped back, sitting hard in the chair Emery had offered him a moment before. Leaning over, he raked his hands through his damp hair and stared at the ornate rug under his feet.

“Is there any possibility the child could be yours, Maska?” Emery asked.

He didn’t answer. Emery put a hand on the warrior’s shoulder, but Maska jerked away.

After a long pause, he said, “Yes. The child could be mine.”

Emery laughed in relief.

Maska’s eyes narrowed. “And defiling the girl makes you happy?”

“I am relieved, not happy,” Emery said. “If the child is yours, Megan will live.”

The anger left Maska in a rush. “What do you mean?”

Sanawen, the Guardian, stepped forward. “If the child belongs to Alcandor, it will kill her.”

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