Chloe's Guardian (The Nephilim Redemption Series Book 1) (27 page)

CHAPTER 34

The boy tugged on his sleeve.

“He said he is listening.”

“What did you say?”

“He said, ‘Horay-sheus, I am listening.’ He told me to tell you.”

Horatius grabbed the tiny boy up into the air by the shoulders. “Who? Who said that? Where did you hear that?” He was crushing him, hurting him, but he couldn’t stop. He was too frantic. He shook him like a toy, like a tiny rag doll. “Tell me!”

“The glowing figure up there,” he was finally able to rattle out.

Horatius froze. He came to his senses. He pulled the boy to his chest and held him there. Then he set him down like a breakable ornament, slowly, tenderly. He brushed his hair back out of his face.

“You see him?” Horatius asked with a voice that didn’t sound like his own.

“Sure. Right there,” he said and pointed at the highest point of the ceiling. He straightened out his tunic with his other hand.

“Tell me what you see.”

“A white glowing giant. White like the sun on a cold day. He has wings, too.”

A sound came out of Horatius’ throat.
Why can I not see him, too?
“Is he talking to you?”

“Of course. Since we walked in. Just like the others out in the meadow.”

“In the meadow?”

“I said you could pray anywhere.”

This makes utterly no sense!
Why would this child hear and see the Celestials when he could not?

“Tell me what he is saying?”

The boy looked toward the ceiling. He nodded.

“What? What do you hear?”

“He said you are cursed.”

Another moan escaped Horatius. He dipped his head into his hands.

The boy folded his hands together in front of him and lifted his chin toward the ceiling.

“What are you doing? What do you hear?” Horatius said through his hands.

“I am praying. God and I talk all the time.”

“And you can hear
They
…
God
speak to you?”

“Of course. Can you not?”

“And you can see an angel here, now?”

“What is wrong with you? Right there. He is looking right at us, talking just like out where I found you.”

“You saw Celest—angels out where you found me?”

“Sure. I asked them what I should do with you.”

“What did they say?”

“I dinna want to believe them. But I suppose it must be truth. You are cursed.”

Horatius got angry and used several impure words. “What does that mean? Ask him what that means.”

“All
right
,” the boy said a little indignantly. He closed his eyes. “You dinna need to talk to me like that.” His lips moved silently behind his folded hands. After a while, he dropped his arms and frowned at Horatius. “
’
Tis bad. I dinna think you want to know.”

Horatius reined in his frustration this time, trying not to provoke the lad. “No. I do. Want to know. I need you. To tell me. Exactly. What he said.”

“Do you know someone named Sat— Sah…ah…terrell? Something like that. Not a name I heard afore. I dinna like it.”

“Yes, aye. Satarel. What about him? Is he behind this? What did he do?”

“He cursed you. I dinna understand. But the angel said when he touched your heart—how did he do that?—he put a curse on you. A bad curse.”

The moment flashed into his memory when Satarel reached into his body out in the ocean and sifted through his fingers the closest thing Horatius had to a soul. Satarel defiled his essence in that touch. Satarel took from him the good he’d been accumulating and replaced it with some destructive force.

“Ask him what the curse means. Is that why I can’t transfigure? Why I am so weak? Ask him what to do. How do I undo the curse? Ask him. Go on, ask him.”

The boy scowled. “So many questions. Why dinna you ask him? He is right there.”

“He cannot hear me.”

“Of course he can.”

“I cannot hear
him
.”

“Anyone can talk to them.”

“I am not just anyone. Please. Ask him. It is very important.”

The boy directed his attention to the ceiling and moved his lips again. It took so long, Horatius could not wait. “What are you two saying?”

The boy glanced sideways a moment but turned his attention back to his task.

A deep breath helped Horatius calm himself enough to clamp his lips shut and let the boy communicate with the sentinel. The nerve endings in his gut were on fire. Relying on another to converse for him was enough to make him spontaneously combust. When at last the boy relaxed, Horatius had to use all his willpower to keep quiet and let the boy convey the message at his own speed.

The boy did not speak right away. He fidgeted on the bench that was too far from the floor for him. He scratched his mop of hair and chewed on his lower lip.

“
’
Tis worse than we thought,” he finally said. “There is only one way we can break the curse. And until we do it, you will worsen.”

“Okay, now,” Horatius said, turning to look the boy straight in the eyes. “Tell me how and I will do it. What did he say?”

The boy’s scowl deepened. Horatius prodded him on with several nods of his head, but kept his mouth shut.

“Blood. It will take a blood sacrifice to break the curse.”

Horatius could not believe his ears. Not only was he cut off but he would have to do the impossible. He had not dealt with a blood sacrifice for ages. How was he supposed to obtain one now? Where could he go? He could not even walk ten feet on his own.

The boy put his small hand on Horatius’ cheek and pushed until he turned his gaze to meet the boy’s. “Dinna be so sad. We will find a way. I promise.”

“Boy, go up by the altar there and see if there is any wine in that challis.”

“I will not.”

“Do as I say.”

“If there is any, it is not there for our taking.”

“Come now. I need a drink.”

“A drink willna fix anything. Dinna worry. I will help you. They told me what to do. We are going to find a way. We will be a good pair. And you need me. You sure do get into a lot of trouble. I am Billy, by the way.”

“Where do you live? Where are your parents?” Horatius asked. “I will give you your coin and you can go back to your family.” He opened his money pouch for one of the two coins from the Queen’s men. He would pay the boy and find some beer. He needed to get drunk. Very drunk.

“I have no parents,” Billy said. “Been on my own. And I did not help you for coin.”

“Why else would you help? Take the money and leave me alone.”

“I helped because you
needed
it. What is wrong with you?”

“I am cursed. That’s what’s wrong with me. Now go on.” He eyed the challis up front and could almost taste the wine it surely held.

“I am not leaving you here like this.”

“I don’t need you anymore. You’re just a child.”

“I do a lot better than you!” The boy punched him in the arm.

Horatius almost laughed, but stopped himself. “Sorry,” he said with his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t mean to offend you. Don’t attack me. I apologize.”

The boy finally relaxed his shoulders and dropped his balled fists. “Just ‘cause you are a giant and I have not yet grown to my full height…” He jumped down from the bench, the action emphasizing his small stature, and ran to the door. “I have an idea about how to get your blood sacrifice,” he said from the doorway, his anger apparently gone as quickly as it had come.

Billy called to the mule and it entered the small church. Billy led it to Horatius.

Of course! Horatius pulled out the dagger from his belt and wrapped his arm around the mule’s head and stretched its neck long.

“What are you doing?” the boy screamed and jumped onto Horatius’ forearm, dangling with all four limbs locked around Horatius’ arm. “Have you gone completely daft?”

Horatius stopped wrestling the mule. “I’m sacrificing the stupid beast to be rid of this accursed black hole I’m in. You are the one who suggested—”

“You canna kill her! Are you crazy?”

Horatius flicked his arm and got Billy to put his feet down, but the little thing didn’t even begin to release his bear hug around Horatius’ forearm.

“Isn’t that why you brought me the beast?” Two more shakes and Billy lost his grip.

But he got right back up and kicked Horatius in the leg. “A course not! That wouldna work.”

Horatius thought a moment. “You’re right. The beast is hardly pure, the stubborn, idiotic—”

“You are the one not pure, not with that kind of killing.” He kicked him again. Horatius stifled his flinch. The little bugger dealt a pretty forceful wallop. “You canna just grab the closest animal and cut its throat. Even
I
know that. There is somethin’ not right about that.”

Who was this boy to tell Horatius how the world worked? He released the mule and replaced the knife in his belt. “Stop kicking me. See? I put the knife away.”

Billy lowered his leg that was poised and ready to deliver another blow. “I brought her over so you could mount and we could go look for help,” he said as though he were explaining something to a toddler. “Altogether benumbing! For being so big you sure act stupid. Are you going to be nice now, or should we just go on our own way and leave you here?”

Horatius wanted to grab him and turn him over his knee for a good spanking. Instead, he struggled to his feet, leaning heavily on the mule. He somehow swung his leg over it and mounted. “Okay. Where are we going?”

“
If
you behave, I will take you to a place I know where we can find a blood sacrifice, pure and untainted.”

CHAPTER
35

Inside the castle, chaos propelled everyone into a frenzy. Lady Gordon threw angry words around the room at workers who frantically snatched shiny candelabras off the tables and grabbed up all the embroidered table cloths. Servants dumped the food from silver platters onto wooden trenchers and used the trays to scurry away golden mugs and pitchers studded with gems. The treasures of the household disappeared into secret hiding places, leaving the room stripped and plain.

Chloe led Kaitlyn to a table and poured the two of them drinks from a wooden jug. Her throat was dry and coated with the blowing yard dust.

“Here, Kaitlyn. Drink this. It's probably fermented, but we need to stay hydrated.”

“Good idea,” Kaitlyn said and she took the heavy cup and lifted it for a drink.

Lady Gordon, who was standing only a table length away, spun around and glared at them.

“We’re just having something to drink.” Chloe spoke with bravado, safely protected by the language barrier. “Leave us alone and we’ll not show the intruders where you’re hiding the loot.”

“You insolent wenches!”

“Uh-oh.” Kaitlyn lowered the cup from her mouth.

Lady Gordon slammed her palms on the table, making the jug jump on the tabletop.

“All this time, pretending not to spake English!”

“You are the one who didn’t use English,” Chloe said.

She pounded the table a few more times.

“Dinna be impudent. I spake both Gaelic and English to you. Even
Français
. And you just babbled some gibbering foolery. I should flog you for the trickery.”

Kaitlyn twitched and whimpered. Chloe touched her arm to reassure her.

“We weren’t trying to trick you. Really. We just talked and no one understood us. I don’t know what happened,” Kaitlyn explained.

The image of a rack in the dungeon loomed in Chloe’s mind.

Lady Gordon rubbed her forehead. “My head is pounding awful. Play some nice music for me. I am over-vexed by all this commotion. The Queen’s men without are set on sending in an emissary and I need my head to quiet if I am to handle them well.”

She turned her attention back to her servants.

“That is so odd,” Kaitlyn said. She followed Chloe over to their instruments.

Chloe said, “I think you were right about Pan. He
is
like Horace. Remember out in the yard when he touched us and said something weird? I think he was casting a spell. He must have made it so we can understand now.”

Kaitlyn picked up her viola and sat next to Chloe. “If he’s like Horace, then he can fly. And if he can fly, he can take us back home.”

“He’s different somehow, though. He’s got that scar on his face. You know how Horace’s leg healed after he became an angel? If Pan could change into an angel, too, he wouldn’t look so mangled. If he could change, why would he be working for Mr. Gordon? Why would he travel by horseback with those two who obviously
aren’t
angels? Why would he kidnap us?”

Lady Gordon clapped at them. “Play,
play
. There is little time afore I must meet with the emissary.”

They started an improv piece in the style of a Celtic jig. Chloe played the bass note of each chord and Kaitlyn played a melody in six-eight time. They may have been playing something that hadn’t been invented yet, but Chloe didn’t really care. She was thinking about Pan and Horace and how to get home.

As they played their jig, a woman entered the dining hall, ran up to Lady Gordon, and hugged her. They sat down together at a table too far away for Chloe to hear what they said. But they talked a lot. Every few minutes, the newcomer—a woman in her early twenties—watched Chloe and Kaitlyn play, like she was actually listening to their music instead of what Lady Gordon was saying. Her worried look softened as she listened. Eventually, Lady Gordon’s face changed from grumpy to angry and she got up and left the room. The young woman came over and sat down next to them. Her foot tapped to the beat.

They played “Danny Boy,” “
Si Bheag, Si Mhor
,” and “Road to Lisdoonvarna.” Then they made up a tune that sounded a lot like
River Dance
.

When they finished, the young woman clapped and bounced in her chair. “Ah, that was lovely. Just lovely. I have never heard music like that.”

“We just made that one up,” Kaitlyn said.

“Well, it was just lovely! I am Agnes, the Lady Gordon’s niece. They sent me in here to talk her into opening the gate. I have only succeeded in making her angry. Please, play more. I enjoyed it so much.” She beamed a smile at them that was the nicest thing Chloe had seen in a long time.

They started another piece when Lady Gordon returned with a parchment folded up and sealed with a chunk of shiny wax. She jabbed it toward Agnes.

“Give this to Queen Mary. It will explain everything. I canna open the gate to her men.”

“Aunt Lizzie, it might not go well for you then. Please reconsider.”

Her lips got thin and tight.

Agnes thought a moment. “Can I take these girls with me then? Their music is very pleasing to me. Mayhap they will soothe the Queen’s anger.”

Lady Gordon waved both hands, like she couldn’t get rid of them fast enough. “Aye, take them off my hands. Just be careful. They are full of tricks, they are.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes, like her headache was getting worse.

“Wait,” Chloe said. “Pan told us to wait here. He’d be back for us. We can’t go anywhere.”

Kaitlyn said, “What if he can’t find us?”

Lady Gordon grunted and waved them off again. She walked away and said over her shoulder, “Best be back outside afore I decide to hold you hostage.”

Agnes jumped up and clapped her hands together. “Fabulous. This is will be so fun. Get your things and let us be gone.”

“We don’t have any things,” Kaitlyn said. “Except for these instruments, but we just borrowed them.”

“Wonderful. Bring them along,” she said with a big smile. “Then we need not wait any longer.”

Suddenly the man with the eye patch was there, stepping out of the shadows. He signaled for Agnes to follow.

“Come along, then,” he said impatiently. “No time for anymore of your folly. You best be gone afore the chance is taken back.”