Guardian of Honor (3 page)

She gritted her teeth and bore the pain from the searing star.

Pretty nice tricks these people had. She had no intention of being
"monkey in the middle"—and she knew by the tone of his words that the
big guy with broad shoulders considered her something like a monkey. He
swaggered with arrogance even standing still.

Holding the light made her dizzy, but when it finally cooled she
loosened her fingers and dropped it. A golden walnut clattered to the floor and
rolled away with a clatter.

The circle of people stared at her, some with their mouths open.
She tried to suppress her shuddering, wishing it was from
the lingering cold of the Colorado night, but she knew it
was from adrenaline pumping through her. She fought to gather her wits, sure
the fantastic events would continue to move at the speed of light—or magic. She
must be ready and think on her feet, as she had so often done during her
childhood in foster homes.

Alexa had concluded that they'd brought her here—the big silver
gong shining within the circle was sufficient evidence of that. With the
pentacle she was in, their circle, and another on the floor that they stood
within, magic seemed to be the method they'd used.

Inhaling deeply, Alexa studied them. They were all taller than
she. She lifted a shoulder. Nothing new. Everyone was taller than she.

They looked suntanned—a light golden brown—and all had black hair,
though the tints and highlights weren't the same, nor was the thickness. Even
the man with the most lines on his face had a full head of hair. No
male-pattern baldness here. In fact, they all had streaks in their hair—silver
or gold, over their left or right temple, or both. That was the oddest thing
about them and she sensed it was significant.

Every one of them emitted a low note, something that she seemed to
hear with her mind, vibrating her eardrum from the inside. Together their notes
wove into a strong melody. She shook her head, but the song remained, as did
the background music.

They stared at her with dark eyes. They were almost Asian, but the
structure of their features was subtly different—a very beautiful people.

Alexa gazed back at them, conscious as never before of her pale
skin, light brown hair and green eyes. She shifted awkwardly—knowing one side
of her face was red and raw made her feel even more scruffy.

The elegance of their velvet robes adorned with fancy gold or
silver braidwork looked too impractical for any activity
other than magic. Each wore heraldry embroidered above their hearts. Or on
their left side, Alexa amended. She didn't know where their hearts were. She
recognized a coat of arms when she saw one, even if she didn't know what it
meant. She figured these beings must be of high status.

They seemed to be grouped in pairs, two wearing emerald green, two
sapphire blue, and so on around the circle—usually a man-woman pairing.

Most held their swords pointed at her chest, as if she were a
threat. The big man wearing rust red turned to the angular woman—Alexa had
decided they were the most important two.

He made another snide comment. Probably about her.

She looked down at herself and winced. She appeared to be molting.
One side of her coat spilled feathers, some more drifted across the rest of her
clothing, and with every breath a few separated to float around her. Her long
jacket was dead.

She shed her coat and dropped her fanny pack. A mutter ran around
the circle. Alexa raised her eyebrows at the big guy who glared at her, staring
at her right hand.

Alexa folded her coat. Feathers puffed out. She flexed her
fingers. Her right hand was pinkened, but didn't hurt as much as her face. Her
down vest ripped when she moved. It, too, had tears. She realized the beast's
swipe with the tips of its claws had come close to killing her. More adrenaline
kicked in. She'd been very, very lucky. Particularly since she sensed the
monster had been waiting for her.

With unsteady hands Alexa took off her vest and laid it on her
coat, then stood in sweater and jeans.

The people spoke amongst themselves. The small round man ran a
stick along glowing gemstone crystals arranged in a rainbow—the chime—and the
sound shivered through Alexa. She jerked, sensing she was trapped here.

A pattern of tinkling chimes followed, each one affecting Alexa.
At one, her balance tipped and she strained to keep upright, another sent her
heart pounding loud enough for her to hear its rush in her ears. On and on the
glasses rang as if testing every one of her reflexes, plucking at her organs.

It ended just before Alexa fell to her knees. Her body was coated
with a cold sweat. She gritted her teeth and stiffened her spine. Posturing and
attitude was all she had, and everything that counted in this game of strategy,
as in all power games. Whatever safety, status and position she had in this
world—in this time?—depended on this first confrontation.

The circle opened and a woman a few inches taller than Alexa left
it, crossing to the edge of the circular room, to the gray stone wall. The
woman was dressed differently than the others. No chain mail gleamed beneath
her robe. This lady wore no armor. She wore a robe of dark red, with a coat of
arms over her left breast, but in the center of her chest was a big white
cross. Not hard to deduce that she was a doctor.

Alexa was profoundly glad that the woman was moving away from her.
She shook out her arms and legs, steadied her breathing. No one else in the
circle moved. They all watched the doctor and Alexa. And waited.

The healer unfolded a fur on a wide padded stone bench near a
fluted pillar and murmured something soft and lilting. She picked up a bundle
and proceeded straight across the room. To an altar.

Alexa looked wildly around. Everyone had sharp weapons. A fist of
dread squeezed her stomach. Surely they weren't going to sacrifice a living
thing. She couldn't stand that. She'd have to stop it—somehow.

She hoped it wasn't a dog. She would totally freak if it was a dog.

Breath strangled in her throat. What if they were going to
sacrifice
her?

The doctor stepped into the light cast by the chandeliers' wheels
and Alexa saw it was worse than a dog.

It was a baby.

Face impassive, eyes hooded, the healer showed the naked infant to
Alexa. It was a little girl of about one year old. Short black-and-silver hair
was ruffled into tufts. The little one grinned at Alexa.

She moved to block the way to the altar.

The doctor glided across the room in front of Alexa to a square of
blue polished marble.

Alexa didn't see the pool until the baby splashed into it.

2

A
lexa had thought the dark pool was a slab of polished blue marble.
Horror ripped through her as she ran to save the child.

There were six steps down. She slipped on the first and toppled
into the pool, dog-paddling to keep her head up.

It wasn't water, but thick, like syrup. The liquid sliced fire
into a raw blister on her foot, burned the tender quick of a fingernail she'd
broken that morning. The pain in the cuts was bad, but worse on her scraped
face, and now she felt scratches on her torso from the beast. The fluid even
affected her bruises. Every ache seemed to be an open wound eaten by acid. It
crawled from the edge of a bruise to burn hotter as it reached the center of the
hurt. Alexa's breath came in anguished gasps. Her mind reeled.

She saw the little girl near the bottom of the far side of the
pool. Alexa plunged into the liquid to reach the child, in too much pain to
even prepare herself with a deep breath.

The fluid closed over her head. Tensing, she opened her eyes. And
saw perfectly. She dove for the baby and grabbed her, pulled her from the pool.
Staggered out.

A scream rose from her throat at the sight of the limp little
body. She didn't know what to do. She looked at the doctor. Though tears ran
down the woman's face, she stood with folded hands.

Alexa shifted from foot to foot in endless agony for a few seconds
before wiping the baby's eyes, then pushed her finger into the girl's mouth,
checking for obstructions, feeling if the child's tongue blocked the air
passage.

She turned the baby over, grabbed hard when the infant slipped.
Alexa patted her back. Thumped a little harder. Nothing.

Alexa cradled the baby and whirled to the people who stood on the
other side of the room. She thought she cried,
What kind of fiends are you
to do this!
But what came from her mouth was, "Shit. SHIT!"

Her frantic gaze scanned the room. The hole to Colorado was gone,
though that wouldn't have done much good.

She didn't know where the door to the room was, what was outside,
or if there were other people. The baby's only hope was those who'd already
harmed her. So Alexa tried once more.

"Help!" she screamed. "Help her!"

A second later the doctor tore the child from her grasp. Alexa
slipped and hit the floor hard. Again.

The healer pressed the infant to her breast and crooned a spell.
Pulsing green light bathed them. An instant later the baby coughed, then screeched.

Alexa had never heard anything so sweet in her life, but she
wondered what was going on. What were their intentions?

Growling drowned out the baby's cries. A man with a raised knife
flashing in the dim light hurled himself at Alexa. She cringed
and rolled, muscles protesting in new agony. Mad fury
slammed into her, from
him,
her attacker. Again she fought to get her
breath. She rolled, couldn't make it to her feet, was stranded on her back. He
snarled, angling the knife.

His face twisted. In his eyes she saw revulsion, bone-deep hatred
because she was different. Never to be trusted. Only to be slain.

She flung up her arms. Her soaked clothes constricted. Liquid
trickled onto her skin and stung. The room spun, and a sea of emotions from
everyone inundated her. Something in her mind broke free.

Her cry matched his. A weapon flew into her open hand.
Unnecessary. With fear and panic,
with her mind,
she slammed her
assailant across the room. She heard him hit the wall with a thud, then slither
to the floor.

Oh God! Oh God, she'd hurt a man using her will alone!

She lurched to her knees, planted a foot, then another, and rocked
to her feet. A couple of women moved to the still man, one wailing. Everyone
else watched her.

Alexa bared her teeth at them. She'd never done such a thing in
her life, but she now acted totally on instinct. This night was beyond belief.
Beyond anything she'd ever imagined.

That she might have killed a man with the sheer force of her mind
shattered the last rational belief she'd ever held. Nothing was the same.
Nothing was right. Nothing was reasonable. Only primal intuition could save
her.

She hefted the weight in her hand, considered what she held. It
was a stick about two feet long and three inches thick, made of something like
ivory and capped at each end with gold. One end was pointed, the other
straight. Carved figures of knights fighting monsters covered the staff. It
looked far too big to be a wand, but she'd bet anything that it was a magical
tool. She slid it through
her hands, enjoying the texture, though she sensed a
nasty tingle of energy. Finding a button, she pressed it. A little brass hook
with a blunt end popped from the side, as if it was there to hang the stick
from a belt loop.

A shout attracted her attention. When she looked up, everyone was
staring at her, as always.

Alexa raised the short staff.

The smallest man opened his mouth and began a chant. His melodious
voice was the richest she'd ever heard, set in a soothing cadence. The others
joined in, and though the music didn't sound the same here in the round church
of
wherever,
Alexa knew it was that which had drawn her to this dreadful
place. She could almost see the small man's voice as the stream of yellow in
the rainbow that had compelled her into the arch. The big, mean guy's voice was
jerky with some emotion, and his intentions didn't quite match the others, but
Alexa felt he was the bright red, fluctuating band. The angular lady was
indigo.

As he sang, the small man gestured, and the others slid their
swords into sheaths. The leader's staff burned with a yellow flame at the tip.
He set it aside and it stood by itself.

Alexa blinked. She was too exhausted and wrung out to goggle. The
indigo woman stepped forward, raising her hands to her shoulders, palms
outward. Another gesture Alexa understood.

She turned her back on them to check on the baby. Instead of the
doctor, a teenaged girl held the child. The girl watched Alexa with huge eyes.

The baby was bundled warmly in a thick fleece blanket. Alexa
motioned to her. "Is she all right?"

The youngster seemed to understand what Alexa said. She nodded.
Alexa wondered if that meant agreement.