To Ocean's End (46 page)

Aerigo glanced at the night sky. “Judging by your sun, I came from a generally eastern direction. I crossed an ocean people called ‘the Atlantic,’ or ‘el Atlantico.’”

              Roxie then realized the mental pull was gone. Instead there was a sense of completion—not to mention relief. However, she took a couple of steps along the sidewalk, turned around, then braced herself as she walked back.

             
Nothing. She was free to walk wherever she wanted.

             
Aerigo looked at Roxie expectantly.

             
“For the past two weeks I’ve had this strange need to travel east. No clue why. And now that I’ve met you, it’s gone.”

Aerigo’s face brightened with recognition. “You were subconsciously guiding me to your location.”

Roxie gave him an unconvinced stare.

“It’s called magic,” he said. “Although—”

“Magic’s real?” Part of Roxie had often wanted magic to be real so she could magic her eyes into glowing and fading on command. Of course this never worked.

Aerigo gave the young woman a faint smile as he put the glass bottle on the ground and reached for his canteen. He unscrewed the cap and cupped his free hand, ready to catch the water as he upended the canteen. The water fell as Roxie expected, but as soon as it almost touched Aerigo’s palm it began to collect as if it had fallen into an invisible bowl.

Roxie’s eyes widened as Aerigo began to mold the liquid into the likeness of a rose. He let go of his canteen and held his other hand over the reshaping globe of water, slowly moving it up and down like a musical conductor measuring out beats. The water rose splayed over his cupped hand, and the petals shimmered like pool water in the middle of the afternoon. Roxie raised a finger, but restrained herself from touching it.

“Go ahead,” Aerigo said gently, letting his free hand relax. “It’s just water.”

Roxie reached for the nearest petal, which was as big as a half dollar, and tapped its fringe. She looked at her fingertip and saw a drop of water on it. She dipped a forefinger into the water rose and took it out again, noticing that the inside of the rose felt like a bubbling Jacuzzi. Again her finger remained unharmed. “Weird.”

Aerigo reached for his canteen as he turned the rose upside down, which began to dismember itself one petal at a time. Each piece congealed into a large drop and returned to the canteen. The big man screwed the cap back on. “Your turn.” He picked up the glass bottle and held it out to her. “Drink this.”

              Roxie reached for the bottle, then stopped herself. “What is it?” She stared at the pale liquid. Even though she felt kindred toward Aerigo and his glowing eyes, she couldn’t ignore being trained to avoid accepting gifts from strangers.

Aerigo looked at the bottle. “Being able to do magic is supposed to be normal for you.”

“And that drink will make me normal?” It was more a statement than a question.

“Essentially, yes.”

Roxie bit her lower lip, folded her arms and stared at the bottle. For some reason the thought of drinking it frightened her. It would change the life she was familiar with, as lonely as it had sometimes been. Already things weren’t the same because she’d met Aerigo, but she was still herself. On the other hand, being able to do magic would be the coolest thing in the world.

Roxie accepted the bottle, unscrewed the cap and sniffed its contents. It was odorless.
Well that’s a help.
She summoned her courage, closed her eyes, took a sip and swallowed. The liquid tasted mostly like water, slightly sweetened with the hint of a sports drink flavor. She licked her lips, enjoying the sweetness, then began downing the rest of the bottle with the zeal of a person who hadn’t a drop of liquid in days.

She managed to swallow half the contents before a loud crash from somewhere nearby startled them both. “What was that?” she whispered, the bottle still to her lips.

“I’m not sure,” Aerigo whispered back. “Go home and finish the bottle there. Make sure you drink
all
of it.” He picked up his belongings, then pulled out his dagger and faced Roxie. “I’ll find you in the morning. Just stay home and don’t wander off.” He headed towards the darkest part of the street.

“You don’t even know where I live!” Roxie said as loud as she dared.

Aerigo turned around and sent her a glare punctuated with smoldering red eyes.

Unable to disobey that signal, Roxie hastily capped the bottle and turned to leave, but a sly voice alarmed her and caused her to whirl around.

“Don’t leave just yet.” The man belonging to the voice stepped into the light of the street lamp and stopped in front of Aerigo, smiling at him. “Tell me, Aerigo, who’s your new girlfriend?”

Now would be a great time to start running home, as Roxie had been instructed. However, the tone of that man’s sly voice made her more curious than afraid. She looked to Aerigo for an answer. His muscular arms were corded with tension, eyes burning a molten red. Roxie kept quiet.

This second person looked like he had been swallowed by a shark and spit back out again—twice. A starchy material, covered in dirt and ripped in many places, was all that was left of his jeans and flannel shirt, and his reek stung Roxie’s nose from fifteen feet away. His short black hair was spiked forward, his dark eyes appeared sunken from fatigue, yet his gaze was charged with...what? Triumph? Whatever it was, Roxie didn’t like how this lean-muscled newcomer stared.

“None of your business, Daio,” Aerigo said, and raised his dagger slightly.

“Ah.” Daio was sneering now. “So she’s the one Baku has sent his
mighty
warrior to protect. Nexus will be most pleased to learn this.”

“What does Nexus want with the girl?”

“I don’t know,” Daio said irritably. “What does Baku want with the girl? She doesn’t seem particularly special. However, since
you’re
making a big deal, there’s got to be more to her than what I sensed.”

One moment Daio was standing feet away from Aerigo, and the next thing Roxie saw was Daio right in front of her, wearing his malicious grin. He grabbed the sleeve of her t-shirt and yanked on it, ripping the shirt to the other shoulder and down the side. Roxie threw a fist, but Daio swatted it away as if he were expecting it, and the parry stung as if a block of iron had struck her arm.

“Your eyes
do
glow!” Daio said happily. “You’re one of our kind.” He bent his knees and kicked one leg backward, catching Aerigo in the stomach.

“Rox, go home now!” Aerigo yelled in a tight voice as he clutched his stomach. Sucking in a breath, he lunged for Daio with his dagger, but only succeeded in driving him away from Roxie and into the street. Aerigo positioned himself in front of Roxie and faced the street.

Roxie started backing into an alley on shaky legs, and with her arms clamping her tattered shirt to her chest. She wanted to run, but feared putting her back to Daio, who had one arm stretched toward the middle of the street, as if he were reaching for something.

“Catch up with you later, kid.” Daio lost his grin, and looked at his hand. “Well that’s no fair.”

Aerigo took the tip of his dagger between his thumb and forefinger and, with a grunt, launched his weapon. Daio ducked out of its trajectory. The blade clanged against a brick building and hit the ground.

“I don’t know what kind of threat you think the girl could possibly pose,” Daio taunted, fists raised and smiling once again. “She has so little time to prepare.”

“She’s none of your concern.” Aerigo raised both fists as well.

“What a stupid thing to say,” Daio said, sounding bored. “But in all seriousness, she does have
you
for a teacher...”

Why is some creepy guy interested in me, and what am I supposed to be taught? Does this guy think I’m some sort of secret weapon?
It seemed frighteningly plausible. Before Roxie could ponder the situation further, Daio was a couple of feet away from her again, but this time with one of Aerigo’s arms clamped around his neck. Daio grasped for his neck with both hands as Aerigo forced him into the street. Roxie stood there watching with the same morbid fascination of seeing a fight break out in a school hallway.

Both men struggled to push or trip the other off balance. Finally, Aerigo swiped one of Daio’s legs out with one of his own. As they teetered, Daio jerked his torso toward the ground, causing them both to corkscrew midair. Aerigo hit the ground on his back with a ground-vibrating thud. Daio started elbowing Aerigo in his ribs and Roxie winced. Aerigo freed an arm and punched Daio in the head so hard he slid off him and onto the pavement. The impact sounded like the dull crack of a ball hitting a bat. Aerigo popped to one knee, cocked a fist, then stopped. Daio lay unmoving, his arms spread like a scarecrow. Aerigo glanced at Roxie, then got to his feet, draped Daio over one shoulder and headed over to Roxie. Neither man bore any cuts or bruises.

“Did he hurt you?” Aerigo asked.

Considering the fact that the only part of her that had sustained any injuries was her shirt, Roxie said, “No. Is he dead?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Aerigo looked at her a moment, then said, “It’s a long, complicated answer. Stay there. I’ll be right back.” He solemnly walked past Roxie down the alley, and into darkness.

The death question seemed half fair, half harsh. Daio was a threat, yet he hadn’t tried to harm her on the first chance he had; he just ripped a perfectly good shirt. After that, he’d seemed ready to leave, but for some odd reason didn’t. What had he been planning to do to her if Aerigo hadn’t protected her? All possible answers made Roxie feel sick to her stomach.

Footsteps steadily approached. Roxie turned around. Aerigo paused before her, frowning, then retrieved his pack from the sidewalk. He returned to Roxie’s side, setting the pack on the ground as he unzipped it, and produced a white rolled-up shirt from the main pocket. He sniffed it quickly, then handed it to Roxie.

“Here.”

Roxie mumbled her thanks as she accepted the shirt, then sniffed it as well. “Pine trees.”

“I’ve been sleeping outside the last few days.”

Aerigo stood and rounded the corner of the building and out of sight. Roxie scanned the intersection, along with the dark alley behind her. Seeing no one, she shrugged out of her ruined shirt, and into the pine-fresh one.
Sheesh, I’ve known him a whole five minutes and I’m already wearing his clothes. This better not be the start of a trend.
Aerigo’s shirt was huge on her; it stopped just below her fingertips when she held her arms to her sides. Roxie was tall for a girl—five-nine—but the shirt was so long and baggy on her it reminded her of when she was small enough to use her grandma’s shirts as pajamas.

Roxie balled up her ripped shirt, figuring she’d throw it away in the nearest garbage, then picked up the half-full glass bottle. She peeked around the corner to find Aerigo leaning against the pawnshop’s glass window. He looked up at her, his expression pensive.

“Now what?” Roxie asked.

“Take you home to get some rest.” Aerigo drew closer and collected his pack. “But let me get my dagger first.”

Oh, this is going to be fun.
Roxie was
not
looking forward to explaining to Grandma everything that just happened.

Acknowledgments

Thank you Quentin Whitfield for throwing me a lifeline, giving me a second chance as a writer, being my sounding board and therapist in things us creative types struggle with, and doing everything in your power to help me succeed as an author. Words cannot speak as loud as my continuous effort to learn and grow as a writer, and to keep pursuing my dream. Thank you, Kristin Jacques, who whipped this story into shape and saved me from writing bad romance. Anyone who reads this book is indebted to your editing and critiquing skills. Thank you, Simon Guajardo, for throwing me a different type of lifeline, one that’s allowed me to put forth the time, energy, and effort necessary to become a successful author, and for believing in me even on the days I don’t. And of course a big thank you to my friends and family, who’ve cheered me on over the years.

The Works of S.M Welles:

Strength (Aigis Trilogy, Book 1)

Courage (Aigis Trilogy, Book 2)

To Ocean's End

S.M Welles’ Blog:

http://smwelles.wordpress.com/

Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100004516564473&fref=ts

Goodreads:

http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5823070.S_M_Welles?from_search=true

About the Author

S.M. Welles has recently moved from New England to Arizona, where she’s now a full-time author and part-time online gamer. When her brain needs a break, she runs around killing people in League of Legends and Guild Wars 2. She’s finally retired from eight years of World of Warcraft and eagerly anticipates the release of Elder Scrolls Online.

Aaaaaaand I don’t know what else to put here.