Guardian (32 page)

The residue from what must have been an intense magical battle rode the ground like a mist. Nearly every tree we passed bore some sort of blemish from a fire arrow or a sword.

Knowing Aubrie’s warriors probably still lurked in the area, I opened a deep travel layer as soon as we got our bearings and Ian and I stepped into it. We took off toward Faerydae’s castle.

The going was slow.

The deeper the travel layer, the more magical interference we would encounter. The magic pulsed against us like something dense and alive.

It was like walking underwater.

Forward progress was slow and exhausting and sound was skewed to the point that it was almost impossible to recognize words. So Ian and I moved silently forward, sweating and panting from the effort.

If Aubrie had spooks in his army we would be relatively safe in the deep layer. Even a fourth level spook would be hard pressed to see us in a deep travel layer. We’d just appear as the occasional shadow or wisp of movement to him or her.

After several hours we reached the towering waterfall that marked the entrance to the castle grounds and moved slowly through it. Water pounded around us like a living thing, adding substantially to the feeling of walking underwater. I could smell and see it, but I felt its effects only as a rumble in my chest as it hit the impenetrable deep layer.

As soon as we cleared the water barrier we began to spot Aubrie’s scouts. They were well hidden in the rocks around the falls and strategically placed along the edge of the thickly wooded forest area that surrounded the castle.

They looked alert but relaxed. Obviously they didn’t know they’d been infiltrated.

As we neared the castle the ground roiled with movement. Our eyes began to pick shapes out of the dusk and we realized with horror that thousands upon thousands of warriors slept upon the grounds around the lake. In the distance a long line of picketed horses grazed on the lush grass beneath their hooves. We had to take a wide path to avoid the camped army.

We slogged onward, rounding the sparkling, aqua tinted lake and heading toward the enormous, double doors of Faerydae’s castle. The doors opened as we approached and two elves came out, we slid into the castle before the doors could drift closed.

By unspoken agreement we headed toward the dungeons. We needed to get the lay of the land from Faerydae before we could deal with Aubrie and his band of merry usurpers.

The stairway down to the dungeons was hidden behind a large tapestry. Ian led the way and we ducked inside. He flicked a finger at the torches on the wall as we descended the narrow, stone stairway. The torches lit with a soft whoomf sound, guiding our way as we descended into the cold, musty depths of the castle.

The air became increasingly chilled as we continued to descend into the bowels of Faerydae’s castle. The quality of the air degenerated further the closer we got to the dungeons.

It stunk of rotted food, unwashed flesh, and the necessary leavings of human and animal existence.

We encountered the first guard at the bottom of the stairway. He stood with his back to us and his shoulder leaning against the cold slime of the wall. His head bobbed low on his neck and the sound of soft snoring met our cautious approach.

Ian’s aura flared as he touched the sleeping elf on the shoulder. The guard’s head jerked up and he emitted a small gasp before crumpling to the floor at our feet.

I grimaced, hoping nobody did that to me. The rock floor of the dungeons was green with algae and looked slimy. It smelled like sludge.

A rat scurried by, shooting the prostrate guard a red eyed glare as it passed.

I grabbed Ian’s arm, jerking my head at the guard. “We can’t leave him here.” I whispered.

He sighed but reached down and grabbed the guard under the arms, dragging him around the corner and tucking him into a shadow. A double row of tracks showed on the floor where the guard’s soft boots scraped the algae as he was dragged.

I scuffed at the tracks quickly with my boots in an attempt to blur them.

Ian rejoined me and we moved deeper into the bowels of the dungeon. To my surprise most of the cells appeared empty. Aubrie must have let the prisoners go so they could fight on his side.

There were no guards anywhere except, as we attained the furthest reaches of the dungeon and turned a corner, two more stood in front of the cell that was situated in the deepest part of the dungeon, accessible only by a rough-hewn, narrow passage that dead ended at the cell.

The only light came from two torches high on the wall. They cast the two guards and the heavy, mold painted door to the cell in a wavering, stingy light and filled the tight area with oily smoke.

We stopped at the end of the passageway, fully visible. Ian lifted a hand, “Aubrie sent us to take over for you.”

The two guards swung around and went for their swords. We stood unmoving, our faces held carefully blank. We’d put our weapons in the small of our backs so we would appear less threatening. After a moment they softened their stance and dropped the points of their swords toward the ground. One of them nodded toward me.

“Who is this creature?”

Ian glanced at me and grinned. “She is Aubrie’s special weapon against Olympus. Treat her well…or you will answer to Aubrie.”

The guards exchanged looks and, finally, dropped swords into their scabbards and started toward us. We waited until they stood in front of us before we reached out and incapacitated them with a shot of power to their minds.

The two guards dropped bonelessly at our feet and we started searching them for the key to Faerydae’s prison almost before they’d settled fully onto the rocky ground.

“Got it.” Ian informed me, and stood, striding toward the prison door.

Faerydae stood at the back of her cold, stale cell as we entered. She looked untouched, perfectly coiffed and attired and still vibrant among her depressing surroundings. Her chin was high and her shoulders square, anger sparked in her beautiful gaze as she fixed it unwaveringly on the opening cell door.

When she saw Ian, her shoulders drooped and she fell to her knees. Apparently her squared shoulders and fierce expression had all been for effect.

I had to give her credit, she’d looked pretty formidable.

Ian rushed across the cell and lifted her to her feet. He carried her to the small, hard cot in the corner and set her down. “Your majesty. How do you fare?”

She lifted one suddenly frail looking wrist and I saw a familiar metal band there. Ian reached for it and wrapped his hand around it, encircling her pale wrist entirely in his large grip.

I heard a soft click and Ian threw the band across the cell. He helped his queen sit up and placed his hands on her cheeks. Immediately his aura flared and Faerydae shuddered under the effect of his healing boost.

Color returned to her beautiful face and her shoulders straightened under his ministrations. When he pulled his hands from her face she smiled. “Thank you, my friend.”

Ian stood. “What is going on in your kingdom, Faerydae?”

She sighed. “I was fooled by my closest friend. You know of Callibre?”

Ian nodded. “The beautiful, brown skinned elf.”

Faerydae nodded. “She was drawn into Aubrie’s web and shared his bed. He used her to capture me, though she knew not what she was doing.”

I stepped forward. “Are you sure she wasn’t a willing accomplice”

Faerydae’s face paled again and her jeweled gaze glittered with unshed tears. “I held her in my arms as she died, Monad Warrior. When she realized what Aubrie had done she tried to save me. He killed her.”

Faerydae lifted her chin as tears slipped down her face. She crossed her arms over her chest and shivered under the horror of the memory. “I will see him dead for that alone.”

“Do you know if Aubrie is still here?”

She nodded. “He sits upon my throne and flings out orders by the hour. I hear rumblings of his unfair demands through my prison door.”

I touched Ian’s arm. “We need to get her out of here.”

He reached to clasp Faerydae’s slim elbow. “We must go, my queen. We will go to the Monks and gather our forces to expel Aubrie.”

“Let us go. The sooner we begin, the sooner we can return to send Aubrie to the pits of Hell.”

Chapter
Nineteen

Engaging the Monks

T
he Grigory Brotherhood lived high above Aelfdane, in a city whose streets and habitations were cut into the side of the Aelfdane Mountain ridge and nestled onto its highest plains.

We climbed the mountain through the night, stopping only to take food and water and briefly rest our legs. As the twin suns of Aelfdane climbed over the horizon, we finally entered the beautiful, golden city and headed for the monastery.

Despite the early hour the streets were thick with robed figures, moving quickly from one building to another on the mountainside.

The buildings held sick and injured creatures, who’d come to the Brotherhood to be healed.

The Grigory were famous for their healing magics and creatures from The Wood and well beyond regularly visited their stronghold in the mountain to be cured of whatever ailed them. There had even been stories of humans who had come to the Brotherhood for healing.

In return for their nearly one hundred percent successful efforts, the monks refused payment, only asking for offers of protection and the occasional wagon filled with supplies for the injured.

As a result, the Brotherhood enjoyed more protection and had richer stores of goods than even Faerydae or Tana. And their loyal followers numbered in the millions.

We hoped to gather some small portion of those followers to our cause.

We stopped before the doors to the monastery and Faerydae placed her palm on the surface. A moment later a gong could be heard inside.

The door creaked open and a hooded figure stood staring at us, the face within the hood was cloaked in deep, unnatural shadow.

Faerydae stood tall and regal before the monk, looking neither submissive nor superior. “We’ve come to address the Brotherhood.”

The hood dipped in understanding and the figure turned, seeming to float deeper into the cave-like building. We followed silently.

Only
our
footsteps sounded on the travertine marble floor. The monk moved soundlessly.

The robed figure headed for a set of enormous, double, wooden doors, throwing them open with a wave of one arm. He floated through without pause.

We were hot on his hem.

The table in the center of the huge room ran the entire length of the room and was made of roughly hewn dark wood. Along one side, facing the door, were dozens of robed figures.

We stopped just inside the door. Ian and I took up position just behind and on either side of the Elvin queen. Faerydae gave the monks a respectful nod. “Brothers, I thank you for allowing this audience.”

The figure seated at the center of the table lifted a robed arm toward us as a sign to continue. The sleeve appeared just as empty as the hood.

“My castle has been taken by a band of rebels, led by Aubrie St. Clair. From my throne, St. Clair directs attacks on Queen Tana of The Wood. His machinations threaten the stability of the entire magical world. We would ask for your help in removing him as a threat.”

We watched the Brotherhood discuss our dilemma telepathically amongst themselves, their empty hoods swinging and dipping as they conversed.

We stood silent, waiting.

Finally the monk seated at the center of the table stood. A disembodied voice filled the room, sounding as if it was being mechanically enhanced. “We have decided it is in our best interests to help, Queen Faerydae. Aside from considerations of self protection, we recognize that you have been a loyal friend for millennia and we will stand by you as you have always stood by us.

Faerydae nodded in acceptance of the gift. I watched her narrow shoulders soften and realized she’d been tensed to hear their answer. “I’m honored by your friendship, holy one.”

The hood dipped slightly. “When the twin suns set on the morrow, may only the good stand tall, Queen Faerydae.”

Faerydae curtsied and headed toward the door. As we turned to follow, the vast wooden doors burst open and an enormous black creature stood there. As we reached for our swords, the thing’s enormous front feet lifted off the ground and it flailed its tree-like legs, screaming. The ground shook with the concussion of its deadly hooves as they settled back to the ground. The creature fixed me with a beady eye and its huge nostrils flared and snorted derisively.

Enormous black wings pounded the air once, twice, and then settled back with a snap.

“Broud!” Faerydae hurried toward her giant, flying steed, flinging her arms around his thick neck.

I glared at the damnable creature. The unicorn’s eye flashed at me, before he lowered his elegant head to accept Faerydae’s greeting.

“He sought refuge with us when you were taken.” The monk at the center of the long table informed us. “We have learned much of the situation from him.”