Mark of Four (32 page)

Alayne wanted to go to bed. Weariness and long-delayed shock clogged her brain.

Manders wasn’t yet ready to release her, though. “Daymon said you had the Vale, Alayne. Where exactly is it?”

Alayne glanced at Daymon who watched her wordlessly. Slowly, she lifted her shirt and showed them the small scar, explaining in a few words her conclusion. “It—it heals, though. The Vale, Professor. Why would I still have a scar if it’s inside me and heals everything else that happens to me?”

Manders raised an eyebrow. “I’m not certain, Alayne. My best guess is that the Vale has its own power, and since it was placed in your body at that location, it left a scar that goes far beyond other physical injuries. If that’s the case, you’ll never be rid of it.” He leaned forward. “The night you got that, Alayne, is a night I will never forget.”

He started to rise, but Alayne had a final question. “Sir, I’ve gone over that scene a million times in the cave, and I still can’t figure out who casted the Three. Did they ever find the other Shadow-Casters in Malachi’s group?”

A bleak smile crossed Manders’ face. “I hate to say this, but I don’t know, Alayne. Yes, Malachi’s Casters have made their appearance here and there, but there’s no sure connection between them and the Three that held Marysa captive.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “All evidence seems to suggest, Alayne, that there is a Caster inside the walls of Clayborne.”

“Who?” Alayne sounded like an owl.

“Of course, we have several that we suspect, but nothing that will help us until we find some positive proof.” Manders stood. “I’m sorry to trouble you with that, Alayne. Do be careful, and best of luck,” he murmured. “The secret’s out now. Your best protection as a Quadriweave was the fact that very few people knew. I’m afraid the entire school knows now.”

Alayne’s eyes widened. “What do you mean, sir?”

Manders shook his head. “Stanwick Jones himself has flown out here to talk to you. I’ve turned him away, but he and his crew are out there right now reporting about you, the Vale, and the connection you have with it.”

Alayne’s fingers trembled. She shot a nervous glance at Daymon, who hadn’t contributed to the conversation, but now boldly watched Alayne.

“What does that mean?”

“It means,” Manders said as he picked up his tea cup, “that we’ve got our work cut out for us.”

A
layne accompanied
Marysa to their dorm room. Marysa winded easily, so their progress was slow, but Alayne was so thankful to have her friend with her again, she didn’t mind in the least.

Marysa hadn’t lost her ability to talk, even after her months of captivity. She chattered to Alayne for four flights of stairs before she stopped to rest. Leaning against the rail, she said, “You haven’t talked to Kyle since all the chaos, have you? When we passed him downstairs, he looked really worried.”

Something inside Alayne snapped. Too much had happened today, way too much to care that Kyle might get his feelings hurt.

“He can get over it,” she bit out.

“Layne.” Marysa’s voice, rarely reproving, was quite sharp this time. Alayne jerked her head up to stare at her friend.

Marysa’s icy blue eyes flashed. “I get what you’re going through, okay? Yeah, I’ve never lost a boyfriend the way you have, but I
have
watched my best friend from childhood slowly die of some stupid disease no one’s ever found a cure for, and she passed away a month before I came to Clayborne. I’d known her since I was a baby. Did I want to curl up in a fetal position and let life pass me by? You betcha. Did I want to lash out at my family? Definitely. Did I want to go scream at the doctor that refused to give her the meds she needed to be able to prevent her pain? Absolutely.”

Marysa shakily pushed herself from the railing and began her slow progress up the next flight of stairs. Alayne was stung into silence.

“I didn’t do any of those things. Do you know why? Because it was pointless. People depended on me, so I put my selfish little rant aside and became cheerful, sometimes-not-all-with-it Marysa again, and the world got better. Not overnight, but as each day passed, it was easier to put one foot out of bed onto the floor, and then the other. I could push the numbness away.” Marysa’s pale face turned to Alayne at the next landing. She jerked her thumb down the stairs. “Now, you have friends out there who love you. You have Kyle, who has stood by your side through a lot more than any friend should ever have to, and he deserves a fighting chance. You have Daymon—”

She slapped her hand irritably against the stair railing at Alayne’s unladylike snort.

“Did he not save your life today? Or did I misunderstand the story? You have Daymon,” Marysa ranted on without waiting for an answer, “to thank for saving your rear and protecting the lives of most of the people at this school. Sure, he’s been a jerk most of the year, but he still deserves some recognition for his hard work.” She folded her arms and stared at Alayne.

Alayne’s eyes misted with affection for her friend. “You’re right, Mary. Thanks.”

Marysa’s eyes softened. She squeezed Alayne’s upper arm. “It’ll be okay, Alayne. Trust me.”

Alayne smiled tremulously back.

A
layne found
Daymon in one of the weight rooms in the gymnasium. He pushed himself up off the bench, his bare chest gleaming with sweat. He pulled a towel off a nearby rack and wiped his face. When he saw Alayne, he grimaced.

“What do you want?”

Quick anger flared inside Alayne. “Okay, look, hotshot. I wanted to thank you for saving my life. You don’t need to act like I’m the plague just because I’m in the same room as you.”

Daymon looked her over. “I only did what I had to do.” He turned his back on her, snatching his t-shirt from the rack.

Alayne studied his tattoo as he pushed his arms through his shirt. The material clung to his sweaty back. “What did Malachi mean when he called you ‘Guardian’ on the mountain?”

Daymon glanced over his shoulder and then sat down on the bench. He sighed. “I’m surprised you have to ask.”

“Maybe I don’t,” Alayne murmured. “I just don’t know all the pieces to the story.”

“There’s not much story.” Daymon shrugged. “My family are the Guardians of the Vale. We have been for centuries. After the original possessor of the Vale performed his blood ceremony, his descendents were bound to fulfill his oath. We’re required to carve the symbol of the Vale on our backs as a sign that we’ll never forget our duty.”

Awe crept through Alayne’s voice. “Did anyone forget?”

“Nope.” Daymon shook his head. “Once the mark is carved, the Vale transfers some of its power to the Guardian. We can be skilled with the elements, but if one of us should betray the Vale, we immediately die.” He shrugged. “That’s what my tattoo means. If I were to allow harm to come to the Vale, I would die as payment.”

“Why were you such a jerk to me the whole first part of the year, then? If I possess the Vale, and you’re supposed to be a Guardian of the Vale—”

“I didn’t know, okay?” Daymon snapped. “I—
we
didn’t know. My mother was the thief who stole the Vale from the temple and kept it hidden for four years until she passed it off to you. The Guardians had been searching frantically for it, and we thought it may have ended up with your family. I had no idea
you
were the owner until Christmas. And of course, by my oath, I had to protect you.”

“You
avoided
me.”

Daymon rubbed a hand over his short hair. “Alayne, I was bitter. I admit it. What would you do if you were born into something and had no choice in the matter? If you were ordered to spend your entire life for one solitary cause and if you didn’t, you’d die?” He shrugged. “Not saying I’m
not
still bitter, but I’m learning to deal with my lot in life.” He leaned his elbows on his knees. “I know it’s not an apology for how I treated you this year, but it’s as close to one as you’re going to get.” His lips thinned into the shadow of a smile.

Alayne leaned against an elliptical machine, folding her arms along the handrail. She studied his profile as he bent to tighten his shoelaces. “You know what I think?”

“No, what do you think?” Daymon straightened and set the water bottle on the bench beside him.

“I think that somewhere deep down inside you is a decent guy who would be a lot of fun to be friends with. But the layers of bitterness are piled up so high that no one can even get past those to see who the real Daymon is.”

Daymon stared at her, his eyebrows low across his forehead. After a moment, he stood and flung the towel over his shoulder. “Let that be a lesson to you then.” He brushed by her. “Don’t get so bitter about your boyfriend’s death that you lose your friends.”

He strode off, weaving his way between the exercise machines.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alayne called.

“Exactly what it sounds like.” He left the room.

J
ayme’s
memorial service was held the day Alayne’s parents arrived to pick her up. Alayne buried her face in her mother’s shoulder as soon as she saw her and cried for a long time. When they pulled apart, the tension and anger and bitterness between them had abated. A sense of awkwardness replaced it, but it was a step in the right direction.

The whole school walked out to a field east of the spire where the faculty had set up the grave site. Two weeping willows stood on either side of a stone grave marker, their drooping branches brushing the huge slab. The High Court had sent Earth-Movers to investigate the area where the mountain ridge had been, searching for clues of Malachi’s escape. They’d brought back an urn filled with ashes. Horror had flooded Alayne as Sprynge had called her privately to his office to show it to her.

“M—May I see?” she had asked, her voice as broken as she'd felt.

Sprynge had shaken his head regretfully. “It's already sealed, Alayne. Perhaps it's for the best. You'll want to remember him as he was.”

Alayne had broken down into sobs.”

She had asked Professor Grace, Jayme’s favorite, to say the words for the service. The petite professor had agreed.

“Sometimes,” Grace’s clear voice carried over the crowd, “life isn’t celebrated properly. Sometimes people go unnoticed for the things that they do. Sometimes, the appreciation comes too little and too late. Perhaps Jayme Cross never knew quite what he meant to those around him. But we know that he was a valuable part of our lives, and that his presence will continue to be a part of our lives, and we cannot and will not forget it. His influence, his good will, his easygoing attitude will live on in our memories, even though his body is no longer with us.”

Alayne couldn’t hear the rest. Her ears were buzzing. Kyle stood on one side of her and Marysa on the other. Both held a hand, squeezing it as her tears ran unchecked down her cheeks and dripped into the prairie grasses. Alayne felt her father’s hand on her shoulder, and her mother’s on the small of her back.

She was surrounded by people she loved who loved her. She would cry today, and probably tomorrow and the next day. But the time would come, soon, she hoped, when she could put the tears behind her and focus on living again.

M
arysa hugged
Alayne tightly and stepped back, eyeing her friend seriously. “We’ve still got some things we need to think about.”

Alayne raised an eyebrow. “Such as?”

“Malachi’s still out there, and now the entire world knows you’re a Quadriweave. Secrecy was your best protection, and now—”

“Now Daymon’s gonna work twice as hard to keep me safe.” It was a lame attempt at lightening a serious situation.

“Daymon’s going to have his hands full for sure. And Manders. And any other Guardians lurking about the school.”

“They’ll have help from the Continental Guard and everything.”

“The most important protection for Alayne is Alayne,” Marysa argued.

“I know.” Alayne’s mind jumped in the same tired circles of thought she’d processed since her talk with Manders, Daymon, and Marysa after the battle with Malachi and the fire-walkers. “And of course, we have Manders’s assumption that there’s a Shadow-Caster on the inside.” She glanced at Bryan and Wynn where they stood on the edge of the shuttle platform, talking quietly. “Don’t tell my parents, though. If they knew half of what happened this year, they’d never let me come back. We’ll just have to keep our eyes open.”

“At least now you know what a good guardian you have in Daymon.” Marysa grinned. “I’m so glad he’s turning out nice; it seemed like such a waste to put all those good looks with such a horribly atrocious guy.” She laughed and winked. “I’ll see you back at Skyden.” She squeezed Alayne’s hand. “We’ll get together lots this summer after I get back from the east coast.” She waved as she hopped in the shuttle.

Bryan approached with Wynn and put his arm around Alayne’s neck, tugging her close. “It’s good she’ll be around for you.”

“Three weeks, Dad,” Alayne said. “She’s heading to the coast first.”

“Those three weeks will fly by before you know it.”

“Yeah.” Alayne sighed heavily. “I know.

“I think Kyle wants to say goodbye,” Wynn interjected, nodding as the boy moved toward them. Her mother tugged Bryan away again, leaving Alayne to turn awkwardly to Kyle.

“Sorry,” Alayne muttered. “They can be weird sometimes.”

He shrugged as he stood with his hands in his jean pockets, smiling shyly at her. “I guess this is it for the summer, huh?”

“Do you want to write?” Alayne shaded her eyes against the brilliant glare of the sun.

“I promise.” He sighed and pulled her into a tight hug, his hand gently cradling the back of her head. “I think about him a lot, too, Layne. I’m sorrier than I can say.”

Alayne pressed her face into his shoulder, the tears his words brought soaking big dark splotches into his shirt.

“And I’m sorry, too, for the conversation we had just before exams.” He sighed and laid his cheek on top of her head. “I was being an idiot.”

Alayne sniffed and pulled back to look him in the eye. “No, I was being completely unreasonable. I was buried in a well of pain, and I couldn’t see all the things others were doing to help find Marysa.”

Kyle shook his head. “You weren’t being unreasonable at all. I would have done the same.” He cleared his throat and glanced awkwardly at the ground. “And the second part of that conversation...”

Heat crept into Alayne’s cheeks. “Don’t worry about it.”

Kyle shrugged. “I won’t. I’m probably a glutton for punishment anyway—I couldn’t stand to be away from you.”

Alayne stared into his blue eyes. Fragments of a million thoughts flew to and fro in her mind.

A corner of Kyle’s mouth lifted into a half-grin. “But that’s a conversation for another day, Layne.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and gave her braid a tug. “I’ll see you in the fall, okay?”

He dropped a kiss on her forehead and turned away.

Bryan cleared his throat behind Alayne. She faced her parents and took a deep breath. “Let’s get one thing straight,” Alayne said. “You don’t treat me like glass this summer. I’m going to get over this, and the best way to do that is to treat me like you normally do, okay? No babying.”

Wynn’s face paled. Bryan’s hand squeezed her shoulder, and she nodded. “We won’t baby you, Alayne. I—I admit that I’ve allowed my fears to shadow your life, but ... I’m going to try to allow you the freedom to grow into the woman I know is blossoming inside.” A smile trembled on her lips, and she stepped forward, pulling her daughter into a hug. “You’re stronger than we ever knew, Layne.” She swiftly kissed Alayne’s cheek and stepped back. “Let’s go home.”