The Watch (The Red Series Book 1) (21 page)

There was no way he could know
all
that if he were making everything up.

“You really are a Guardian,” I said. I couldn’t
quite
believe it.

He glanced at me wryly as he got to his feet. The tactless
morning sun caught every wrinkle in his creased face, sparkled in the stubby
silver hair on his head, but though it made him look older it did not make him
look weak.

Turning toward the water, he scanned the horizon. There was
nothing out there—nothing but water, sky, the curve of the earth.

“Hubris, old man,” he said, but his voice was calm.
“Emancipating an entire city is not an easy thing for one old man and one young
girl to do. Impossible, if the city does not want to be emancipated.”

His head turned just slightly to
the
left. “And if it does?”

Now he turned slightly to the right. “
Some
ills are beyond your power to fix.”

“But not all.”

“Guilt impairs your clarity of thought.”

“Restitution is a legitimate desire.”

“Restitution, or restlessness? Old Ulysses heading out to
sea one last time?”

“Better than to rust for want of use.”

It really sounded as if he were talking to someone else,
impossible as that was. Which was worse, I wondered—an old man who argued
with himself, or an old man who talked to invisible beings?

Whichever he was doing, I knew which side of the argument I
was on.

“Please help us,” I said. “My friends are going to die.”

For a long moment Sir Tom stood there with his back to me,
facing the sea. Perhaps the argument continued in his head, but if so, he gave
no sign of it. He simply stood there, perfectly still, gazing away from me,
across the wide gray sea.

Finally he turned. “I am weary of watching,” he said. “This
will take time and consideration. We will not accomplish any large success
today or tomorrow or tomorrow’s morrow.”

“But you’ll help?”

His blue eyes were troubled. “I will try.”

We had almost reached the cave
when Sir Tom fell.

 
At first I
thought he had stumbled, lost his balance; then I saw the red bloom of blood on
his thigh and, an instant later, heard the shot.

Before I could react he had gotten to his feet and was
shoving me across the shifting sand and into the cave, back against the wall in
a shallow indentation. “Stay here,” he said.

Though his leg was bleeding profusely he moved fast. He
crossed the room and, from behind his pallet, brought out a small gun. Then he
crossed the cave again and handed it to me.

“Shoot anyone who tries to come in,” he said, showing me the
trigger. “This isn’t a bad wound, but I must stop the bleeding.”

He went to the back of the cave, took down a clay pot, and
opened it.

“Watch the door,” he said sharply.

I tore my gaze away from him and fixed it on the cave
opening. Beyond I saw wind-blown beach, waves, a trail of blood drops clumping
in the sand, and nothing more. Shadows moved here and there
,
but I thought they were echoes of the trees
behind us, above the great boulder; if someone was moving in those shadows, I
wasn’t at all sure how to separate his shadow from those of the trees.

Behind me I heard humming, snatches of song. Then the old
man began to mutter to himself. I hoped he wasn’t drifting into one of his fits
of confusion. I hoped he wasn’t more badly wounded than he thought.

I was just considering risking a glance at him when I
glimpsed movement out of the corner of my eye.

“Someone’s out there,” I said, and raised the gun.

For a long moment nothing happened. I felt my heart beating
hard, heard the old man take a harsh breath behind me, saw the wind ripple the
sand like waves.

Then a man strolled up to the cave opening, for all the
world as if he were in the city visiting friends, and my heart leapt into my
throat.

“Don’t come any further,” I said.

It was Angel. In broad daylight he was every bit as handsome
as I’d thought, and I wondered later whether that was what kept me from
shooting him. At least, if it had been Jensen, I’d probably have shot him on
sight.

Behind me the old man barked out a command. “Hold your fire,
Red Girl,” he said.

“A bit late,” Angel said, looking amused. “If she intended
to shoot me, she’d have done it already.” In the sun his eyes were a silvery
grayish blue. His hair was wet, molded to his head, and his clothes were
dripping, darkening the sand. He had stopped just outside the entrance, about
ten feet away from me, and made no move to come closer. Now that he was near I
saw that he was quite tall, six and a half feet or more, taller than anyone I’d
ever known.

“He’s unarmed,” I said.

“He’s more dangerous unarmed than your wardens are armed,”
Sir Tom said, moving up to stand beside me. He was holding a gun as well, a
larger one than mine.

Angel inclined his head; I thought he was acknowledging the
compliment, but he might have been greeting Sir Tom, now that he was in sight.

“So you swam from the cliff,” Sir Tom said. “You’re a better
swimmer than you used to be.”

One corner of Angel’s mouth curved up. “And you’re more
careless than you used to be,” he replied. “It won’t be any fun to hunt you,
Tommy, if you’re as easy to track as this. You left
 
a swath as big as a city road on your way
here last night.”

“Getting old, I reckon,” Sir Tom said, without a hint of
undertone, but my face flushed; I knew I must be the one to blame. “And anyway,
I must not be as easy to track as all that, if you ended up having to swim for
it. As a matter of curiosity, Angel, to what do we owe the honor of this
visit?”

Angel spread his hands as if the answer were obvious. “I
want the girl back,” he said, and looked at me, his gaze lingering on my hair.
Then his eyes met mine and the look in them made me take a step back.

“She’s mine, Tommy,” he said. “She was brought to me, bought
by me, and she belongs to me.”

I raised the gun again. Maybe I would shoot Angel after all.

The old man waved a hand at me without looking around.
“Don’t mind him,” he said. “If wishes were horses, he’d have a
cavalry. Now, Angel, where is Jensen? Up in the
big spruce to the north?”

Angel shrugged. “Probably. If that was as close as he could
get. He doesn’t like your traps. He’s seen what they can do.”

“Lucky for me,” the old man said, “And lucky we moved into
his range before you were quite here. Three minutes, four. A thinner line than
that lies between life and death. Now put your hands above your head and back
up. Slowly.”

Angel raised his hands and did as he was told. The old man
followed him, but did not step out of the cave. At the entrance he called
loudly, “Lieutenant Jensen!”

Distantly, a voice cried, “Sir!”

“Cease and desist. Await further orders.”

“
Yessir
!”

Sir Tom nodded at Angel. “It’s a hindrance to you, having a
soldier who prefers another man’s orders to your own.”

There was no trace of a smile on Angel’s face. “He’ll obey
me well enough when you’re dead,” he said.

“You’d best be sure of that,” Sir Tom replied. “Jensen
unleashed is not a pretty sight.” He shifted and caught his breath, and I
remembered his wounded leg.

Angel nodded toward it. “You’d be dead right now, if I
wanted you dead. Many a time I’ve held your life in my hands.”

“Back at you. Now, Angel, let me tell you exactly what is
going to happen now. You are going to turn around and swim back the way you
came. I will tell Jensen to wait for you at the stockade. If you do not arrive
to meet him in one hour, he will initiate detonation.”

Angel’s face darkened. He lowered his hands, and the old man
didn’t complain. “That’s the height of recklessness, even for you,” he said.
“Think of the people in the city.”

“You think of them. It’s in your hands to prevent it.”

“It would kill
Caliban
.”

“Collateral damage. You’re intimately familiar with that
term.”

Angel looked directly at me. “You heard him,” he said. “This
man is dangerous, and he is not your friend. But he won’t force you to stay
with him if you wish to go.” A flash of irony crossed his face. “He professes,
at least, to be a proponent of free will.”

Sir Tom shifted uneasily. Angel kept his eyes on me. “Will
you come with me?” he said.

 
The glance that
had unsettled me earlier was gone; his expression was calm and direct. Standing
there near the half-crazy old man, Angel looked young, strong, sure, and above
all, sane.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said. “
Caliban
was shooting at Tommy, not at you.”

I wavered.

“I’m the one you came looking for,” he said softly. “I’m the
Guardian who can help you. That’s why
Caliban
brought
you to me. We’ll go to the stockade, and you will be safe there. The stockade
is a real building, not a cold damp cave. Once there we can discuss your
situation and find a way to help your friends. That’s what you want, isn’t it?
To save your friends from the Watchers.”

I began to feel, strangely, as if I’d known this man a very
long time. He seemed familiar and new, all at once.

“Come,” he said, holding out his hand. “Come with me to the
water.”

The words came before I had decided what to say. “I can’t
swim,” I whispered, and felt my face flush.

Angel smiled faintly and let his hand fall to his side. “You
don’t have to swim. Tommy will let you walk away. Right, Tommy?”

Beside me the old man sighed. “If you want to go, I’ll not
stop you, Red Girl. Though I strongly advise against it.”

“I’m sure the young woman duly notes your objection,” Angel
said gravely, still looking at me.

I didn’t know what to do. He seemed competent and strong,
and much more like I’d imagined the Guardians to be, albeit only human. The old
man, though—his ramblings frightened me sometimes, but he looked at me so
fondly, as if he knew me and liked me. Not many people in my life looked at me
like that.

“Are you ready?” Angel said.

Without really deciding, I shook my head. I only meant I
wasn’t ready yet, that I needed another moment to think, but Angel took it
differently.

“Then I’ll come back for you soon. Be ready for me.” Without
another word he turned and strode away.

I didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved.

The old man stepped farther out
of the shadows and turned toward the south. “Jensen,” he called. “Attention!”

Sir Tom gave his instructions, then turned back toward me.
He was limping, but only slightly, and a white bandage was wrapped around his
left thigh, over his pants.

“The best laid plans of mice and men gang aft
a’gley
,”
he said. “And those were
not the best laid plans. Then again, they were no doubt the best Angel could
manage, given that Jensen is all he has to work with. An unreliable weapon, at
best.”

“He obeys you,” I said. “But he would have killed you.”

The old man shrugged. “Not if I told him not to. Hence the
distant tree, you see. Angel was trying to keep him out of my range of
command.”

He went into the cave and came back almost immediately with
a pack on his back and a long gun slung across his shoulder. He reached down
and picked up something from the ground—my damp clothes and black cap,
folded in a tight bundle.

“Let’s go,” he said, tossing the bundle to me. “We must get
you back to
Optica
before Angel returns.”

I wasn’t at all sure
Optica
was a
better risk than Angel.

Sir Tom caught my expression and sighed. “He’s pretty, Red
Girl, but he’s bad.”

“What’s so bad about him?”

Sir Tom looked reluctant, but he answered.
“He toys with people, for one. He’s lost his paradise and
can’t stand to think that anyone else might manage to find some scrap of
happiness themselves, so he pulls off their wings and watches them writhe. Have
you heard of Rosella?”

I nodded.

“That’s why I want you out of the woods until I can give him
something else to think about.”

It took us about two hours to reach the city. We had seen no
sign of anyone, not of Jensen or Angel or the wild men, only birds and rabbits
and squirrels.

Near the edge of the western woods, almost in sight of the
wasteland, Sir Tom eased himself down on a rock at the foot of a tree, his face
drawn. The bandage on his leg was tinged pink with blood. He pulled a canteen
of water out of his pack and offered it to me, then handed me a piece of
venison jerky, which I devoured ravenously. A handful of dried fruit followed.

We had not talked at all during our
journey,
but it seemed he had been planning.

“Change back into your own clothes,” he said.
“Mine are better for the woods, but they’ll draw attention in the city. At
nightfall bring anyone you trust. Male or female, either one, but they must
have strong nerves and be quick on their feet. Young
Meritt
worries me, but if he feels about you as you
feel about him, I reckon we can
make do. I’ll meet you here. Wait for me if you arrive first.”

I nodded.

“Don’t expect miracles, Red Girl,” he said. “This is a
mighty endeavor, and a difficult one. We first must retake the stockade from
Angel. That is what these friends of yours will help us do. Once we have
weapons and supplies, and the shelter of the big stockade, we can consider how
best to approach the city. Do we remove the endangered ones first? Or do we
begin more ambitiously, overthrowing the Watchers and their wardens? And here’s
a question for you: How many in the city will stand with us? How can we separate
the wheat from the chaff?”

I thought about that, but didn’t have an answer. “Lots of
people are upset with the Watchers,” I said. “If
Rafe
were alive, he’d know exactly who. And he could persuade them.” Suddenly I
missed him so much it hurt. He had thought through all this, no doubt; he would
know the answers to Sir Tom’s questions; he was the one who should be leading
us.

“
Rafe
is gone,” Sir Tom said, but
his tone was not ungentle.

I nodded, made myself think. “
Meritt
and Farrell Dean might know who would be on our side,” I said. “If I can get to
them. And I know one warden who might help us. His son got put in a city
meeting.”

Sir Tom nodded.
Taking my clothes,
I turned to go.

“Whoa, soldier. You haven’t been dismissed,” Sir
Tom said, checking me with a hand on my arm. “Don’t get caught,” he said. “And
Red Girl—”

He lifted my chin so that I looked him in the
eye. His expression
was severe. “Don’t go into the prison,” he said. “Do not,
and I repeat, do not go after the other boy. You got lucky last night, but you
won’t get lucky again.”

I tried to hold his gaze, but mine slid away.

“You have been missing all night and half the day,” Sir Tom
said. “You will have been reported. If you get caught now, Red Girl, they will
kill you. No question about it.”

He held my eyes until I nodded.

“I am not exaggerating,” he said. “No one who has met the
Guardians can be allowed to live. The Watchers can’t let their bogeymen be
exposed. So whatever you do, don’t get caught.”