The Guardian Lineage (14 page)

Zachariah was crawling on his knees, holding a t-shirt to his hemorrhaging arm. He made his way behind Mike, then pushed himself against the wall. He was coughing, too, and it occurred to Mike that even if the Calebra didn't kill them, the smoke might—

Then, mercifully, the sprinkler system turned on. Mike went from coughing smoke to soaking wet as water poured on him from all over. Apparently this freaked out the Calebra, because instead of darting back and forth in a menacing way, it ran to the corner of the hallway and started clawing at the walls in an apparent effort to escape.

“Ohhhh, you don't like water?” Mike teased from a distance. He couldn't use his cryokinesis – he might freeze the entire building or something – but his telekinesis was just as useful. Mike focused on the water from all around and pushed it as hard as he could into the corner of the hallway. The Calebra flattened against the wall from the force of the liquid, trying desperately to squirm out of the way. Mike responded by gathering even more water – it was all around, so very easy – and applying even more force. The Calebra thrashed as if it was drowning…

Then, just as Mike thought he might kill it, he saw a flash of orange. The creature threw itself to the right and rolled in front of the door, skidding against the slick tile. Its eyes bore down on Mike as if he had just killed its litter.

Mike stood his ground, shield at the ready.

Then the door to the hallway flung open. It revealed Stockton in full Guardian garb, eyes angry, looking for someone to punish.

“Look out!” Mike called and pointed to the Calebra.

Stockton didn't understand. He stared at Mike, transfixed, as if unable to understand why Mike was there. Then he looked down and caught sight of an orange and black creature that was about to pounce.

“Aaaarrrrggghhh!” Stockton jumped backwards and slammed the door closed, just as the Calebra launched its twirling, slashing body in the Magus's direction. The creature crashed against the door and bounced off, its eyes darting back and forth through the rain.

“No, come back!” Mike wiped water from his eyes. It was now harder to see through the rain. He was dripping, the moisture chilling him. He had seen the Calebra bounce off the wall, but now he had lost it… he thought he had seen the creature fly into a room, but he couldn't be sure… he searched wildly, his brain pounding…

Then the door opened again. Glass cracked from overhead, and whatever lights had illuminated that end of the hallway disappeared. Stockton came in with both hands holding multiple balls of electric energy, his eyes scanning the room wildly for his target.

The fire alarm wailed at a more fervent pace. “In there!” Mike yelled, pointing to his left. Stockton ran into the room. Mike heard discharges of energy and saw flashes of light.

Something grabbed Mike's leg, and he jumped. Turning and looking down, he saw Zachariah lying on the floor.

Mike gasped.

Zachariah's whole body had turned a pale mix of yellow and green. His arm was still bleeding heavily. He was drooling from the mouth, and his lips were insanely blue.

Hurrying, Mike grabbed Zachariah and lifted him in his arms. He yelped and almost dropped him.

Zachariah was crazy heavy.

There's no way I can carry him all the way to the hospital wing!

Zachariah's head flopped against Mike's arm, eyes glazed over, his consciousness fading. Mike stumbled towards the door, almost twisting an ankle on a shoe, barely able to hold up Zachariah's dead weight. Stockton's weaponry roared off to the left. Mike's headache pounded amidst the fire alarm. The sprinkler was still on, too, drenching him in freezing water, making the door seem miles away.

Finally, just as Mike felt Zachariah slipping, the door opened. Garzan entered the room just in time to catch Zachariah's body as it fell out of his arms.

“What happened?” Garzan yelled as he supported Zachariah's limp body with Mike's help.

Two other Guardians appeared from behind the Headmage. “Calebra,” Mike spit out, jerking his head in the direction of Stockton's battle.

“Here, get him to the hospital wing right away,” Garzan said as he and Mike passed an unconscious Zachariah to the two Guardians, who were significantly bigger than the Headmage. They carried Zachariah out without any trouble.

“There are girls in there,” Mike breathed. He bent over, hands on knees, his lungs still laboring from inhaling the smoke.

Garzan's eyes went wide as they fell on the two limp bodies amongst the piles of clothing. He pressed his Amp and closed his eyes, then turned to Mike.

“Get out of here,” Garzan commanded, and Mike had no problem complying. He pulled open the wet hallway door and staggered down the stairs, careful not to slip.

As he reached the first floor, Annabella burst out of the hallway, followed by two girls Mike didn't recognize.

“What happened, where is he?”

All of a sudden Mike felt completely and utterly exhausted, both mentally and physically. “He, we… we fought a Calebra. Zachariah got bit, they took him to the hospital wing.”

“What?” Annabella screeched, then turned on her heels and flew down the stairs, jumping two at a time. The girls followed her.

I've gotta get out of these clothes
, Mike thought. He pulled off his soaking wet t-shirt, not caring that he was still in the girls' dorms.
Let them enjoy the show, if anyone's still around.
He slung the dripping t-shirt over his shoulder and ran a hand through his hair, effectively slicking it back.

After the day he'd just had, he was going to take the hottest shower of his life, and then he was going to pass out for a week.

 

 

At ten o'clock the following morning, Mike gathered just outside the Headmage's office with the whole raiding party. His plan to sleep late had been for naught, as the Headmage himself had roused the boys in the morning, summoning them to his office at the current time.

There was somber silence in the hall, each student almost afraid to talk, as if that would get them in even more trouble. Two of the students had already entered the veritable courtroom, and each had exited with their heads down, faces red, and mouths glued shut, as if the Headmage had forced them to swear not to repeat what was said. Toad had tried to ask one of the boys what had happened, but the kid said nothing, as if his ability to speak had been taken from him.

Which, needless to say, freaked Mike out just a little.

He wondered what the Headmage would say. Mike was sure this latest episode would only increase the scrutiny on him, from Stockton or otherwise. The spy had obviously been the one who'd snuck the Calebra past Windham's defenses. What if they thought it was him? That could legit get him kicked out…

They wouldn't… would they?

For the first time, Mike realized he didn't want to leave.

Without Laura back in Queens – or his Mom, for that matter (man, he wished Garzan would update him on that) – Mike had nowhere to go. He had started to enjoy his new friends here, and of course all the magic stuff was wicked, badass, and every other cool adjective possible.

More than that, he felt like he belonged. Even though he was the descendant of the bad guy and all that. It felt… good, almost, to be in that role, to be the kid who could kick his bad-guy roots. For the first time in his life, he had something to aspire to. He had something to prove to everyone on staff.

Especially the Headmage. Who'd trusted him so much.

Jeez. I really let him down, didn't I?
Mike wondered if the Headmage would be there to save him the next time something crazy happened, like when he'd left Windham that first night.

Or, even worse – if the Headmage would
want
to save him.

The door opened and Aaron came out, bereft of any clear emotion. His eyes were blank, even though they were purple and pink. Mike started to wonder if Garzan was brainwashing them inside his office. That, or giving them the greatest guilt trip in the history of mankind.

“Next,” a voice said from inside the room. Mike forced himself forward, knowing that his day of reckoning lying just inside.

Garzan was sitting in the armchair behind his desk. His Amp lay on the mahogany desktop, next to a small instrument that looked like a miniature cheerleader's horn. But the Headmage's face was what got Mike's attention; it was white and hollowed, as if the Headmage hadn't slept in a week. Not nearly as stern and focused as Mike had seen him just an hour earlier, when the Headmage had done wakeup duty. And were there… tear marks running down his cheek?

“Sit down, Michael,” Garzan said as the door closed behind, his voice soft and broken, like an old man who's learned his fifteen-year-old dog had just died.

Mike sat opposite the Headmage, totally shocked. This was not at all what he expected. He figured Garzan and Stockton would give him a lecture about raiding the girls, about using spells unnecessarily, about hiding things from the Guardians in the middle of a war. But this… this didn't seem like that at all.

“How's Zachariah?” Mike asked, hoping to lighten the mood a little bit.

Garzan produced a handkerchief and blew his nose into it. “He will live,” Garzan said plainly.

Well, that was positive.

“Any news on my mom?”

“Mister Prior,” Garzan said, folding the handkerchief and placing it in his pocket. “I will get straight to the point. Your continued bravery speaks volumes about your character. However, I must be thorough, and I therefore must apologize for the following procedure.” Garzan picked up the silver instrument. Then, as if he had changed his mind, he put it back on the table. His head sagged, and Mike thought he detected a hint of a cry.

“Headmage?” Mike had felt his spirits lift a little – Garzan hadn't spoken like he was in trouble, after all, and he would've said something if his mom's situation had worsened.

Garzan exhaled, then picked his head up. Tears were welling in his pure-blue eyes. “The two girls injured in last night's attack may not live out the week, so I must do this in order to ensure the safety of my students. I apologize profusely.”

Mike wondered why the Headmage was apologizing so much, but that thought was overshadowed by the news about the two injured girls. There was a chance they wouldn't survive? Seriously? The gravity of the whole situation slammed into Mike's gut, and he felt his stomach turn. First Mrs. Jorisch, now the two girls… they were in real, real danger… this was an actual war, and actual war meant actual casualties…

Garzan lifted the instrument and put the narrow end to his eye, like it were a telescope. A small light appeared at the wide end of the tube.

Then Garzan's office disappeared.

Instead Mike found himself standing outside on a large lawn surrounded by trees, not unlike those that surrounded Windham Manor. The sky was clear. Mike sensed something terribly wrong with the whole scene, aside from the fact that he had been transported from Garzan's office without his consent. A fresh wind blew through the trees, carrying a scent of fir. Rays of sun beat down on his forehead.

A woman walked slowly towards him. She was crying softly, hands wrapped around a pink polka-dotted sleeveless dress. Something stirred in Mike's memory, and he felt a sense of foreboding. Mike looked up at her from an oddly low vantage point. He wondered why he was so low down…

The woman looked exactly like his mother. A very young version of his mother. She came to a halt in front of Mike, then sat on the ground beside him. When she sat, her head was parallel to Mike's. Her eyes were bloodshot, her cheeks stained with tears.

Mom reached out her hand and caressed Mike's cheek. He felt her warmth, her touch…
what was going on…

“Oh, Mikey.”

Mom's brow knotted and her eyes squinted, as if she was fighting off a bout of crying. “There's something I have to tell you.”

Then, out of nowhere, Mike realized where he was. Something inside of him screamed, as if he knew what was coming… as if the memories were being reborn, the painful, horrible memories that had buried themselves…

“Mikey, Daddy's not going to be around anymore…”

Mike felt his eyes flood with tears, and pain rippled inside his chest. But as soon as he wanted to release the emotion within, he was whisked away to another scene. The summer setting dissolved into a wooden bedroom. Mike looked down to see himself, dressed in wool footie-pajamas. He was curled up on the corner of his bed, sheets pulled up over his knees as if to protect himself. Smoke billowed in from underneath the door. Soot filled his eyes, and instantly Mike felt his lungs become parched, starving for air. Mike's instincts told him to move, but his body did not respond, as if they were attached to another brain. Somehow he knew that his home had been attacked, but he didn't know by who, and he didn't know where his mother was. Mike heard himself scream his mother's name involuntarily, over and over. He saw flashes of light out the window, and a lot of movement – men wearing black, fighting with each other. Mike was sweating, the heat was unbearable…

Then the door splintered as somebody kicked it in from the outside. A man in Guardian garb appeared, holding Mike's mother, who was unconscious in his arms. Mike felt himself jump off the bed and run towards him. The Guardian extended an arm towards the wall, and the wood disintegrated. Cold, freezing air zoomed in to replace the soot and smoke. Snow clouded Mike's eyes, and he shivered. But in a strange moment of clarity, Mike saw a scar on the face of his rescuer, stretching from his left eye all the way across his temple…

Then the freezing cold disappeared, and again Mike found himself transported to a new locale. He sat in a classroom surrounded by teenagers, staring at a distinguished-looking black man in a sweater. The man was giving some sort of lecture on Edgar Allen Poe.

All of a sudden, Mike's mother burst into the classroom and grabbed Mike by the wrist.

“Mom, what are you doing?” Mike heard himself hiss.

The teacher said, “Excuse me, madam, but what is the meaning of this?”

But Mom said nothing. She dragged Mike out of the room, leaving behind his knapsack. Mike felt himself running to keep up with his mother, who was holding a firm grasp on his wrist. His face burned, not from fire, but from embarrassment…

Then the images sped up to a more rapid pace. He was lying on the concrete underneath a basketball hoop, his foot twisted backwards, pain shooting up his leg. Then he felt the pain disappear, and he was dressed in a sweatsuit, standing in a quik-e-mart. Mike slipped a candy bar into his pocket, only to be grabbed immediately on the wrist by a police officer. Somehow Mike remembered vividly how that had led to his departure in Miami. Then he was at a friend's house in Chicago – he noticed the Cubs clock on the wall – when his mother burst into the room and hauled him into their Caravan. He felt his ears burn, and all he wanted to do was crawl into a cave and never come out. Then he was with Laura, sitting up on the lawn in Bryant Park in New York City, her head resting on his. They were watching a Marx Brothers movie. Laura laughed. Just as Mike felt himself enjoying that moment all over again, the picture broke once more. He was standing in Garzan's office, looking at Steph. He watched her curl her hair behind her ear.

Then he was thrust into Central Park. A knife was being held at his neck, and he was struggling against it. Then the knife was released, and Mike saw Laura looking back at him with those gorgeous blue eyes… then it was the car ride back, the pain and ache in his heart so strong and real…

That picture faded into the scene in Monster Hall, where Toadman had just finished his spells, and the vision continued uninterrupted until the end of the raid, when Mike reached his dorm room and headed for the shower.

The images disappeared, and Mike was again sitting in the Headmage's office. He looked around to make sure he had his bearings. Then his eyes fell on the Headmage.

Garzan's eyes were bloodshot, his face ashen. The horrible cheerleader horn rested silently on the side of the desk. Garzan's hands trembled, and for a moment, Mike thought the Headmage was having a seizure.

Then, slowly, Garzan began regaining his composure. The color returned to his face, although he was still quite pale. His breathing returned to normal, and Mike thought it would be safe for him to speak. He knew the answer to his question, but he had to ask it anyway.

“What did you do to me?”

Garzan's eyes were heavy. He motioned to the silver instrument. “The Ubiquitor allows me to relive memories buried deep in your consciousness. As you experience your own thoughts from your own mind, I can feel them, as well, from inside your psyche.” His eyes clouded with liquid. “It is not a precise tool at all, and I'm afraid I had to probe more than I would've liked to find the appropriate memory. For that I must apologize. It is a horrible thing, to experience the pain of another. Especially the pain of a memory that has been buried by the mind, specifically because of that pain.”

Mike felt like his very soul had been dissected, as if it was now naked and exposed. His mind was overcome with sadness, and his head weighed on his shoulders. He felt as if he had just experienced every single horrible thing that had ever happened to him.

Garzan waved at the Ubiquitor in disgust. “It is a terrible form of black magic. But black art or not, if it will help protect the Guardian lineage, I will use it. I must find out how the Calebra got into Windham.”

Mike shuddered. He could not stop thinking about the pain of losing his father, which he'd never remembered feeling before… or his guilt when he'd stolen the candy bar, or the embarrassment of getting dragged out of class… the anguish of losing Laura… he was overcome with raw emotion, raw heartache, as if someone had siphoned his heart and drawn out all its emotion…

Garzan wiped his eyes with a handkerchief. All of a sudden, the Amp which had been on his desk started vibrating. Garzan slipped it over his head and pressed the gemstone. then nodded absentmindedly.

“That will be all,” he said to Mike.

Mike did not even have the strength to reply. As he stood, his whole body felt rigid. His eyes felt heavy, his limbs strained. All he wanted to do was collapse on the spot.

“Get some rest,” Mike heard Garzan say behind him. His brain was all too happy to comply. He stumbled out the door and past the few students who were left. Mike realized he must've looked exactly like every other kid who came out of the Headmage's office. He didn't care.

All he wanted to do was sleep, to escape from the pain inside.