“I feel it as well,” Moira said, helping me to stand. “A strange energy charges the air, as if I could reach through time and touch the world beyond the veil.”
Fear stomped a path through my chest, down into my stomach, a knot that settled like a boulder. “Well, then, I guess we’d better get our asses going.”
Moira checked the wound on the back of my head one more time, deeming me fit to fight. The gash had begun to close, albeit slowly, and I didn’t feel as though I were carting a watermelon around on top of my shoulders anymore.
“All right, Guardian,” she said. “Where to from here?”
I smiled. Who would have thought I’d actually like her? I closed my eyes, felt Brakae’s unmistakable pull, and thought, south, but then realized if the landscape changed in the blink of an eye, direction wouldn’t mean much. “This way,” I said, jutting my chin to the left.
We continued to walk, though I wanted to run. My head protested, aching every time I pushed our pace. Our surroundings had changed yet again. Autumn had released its hold, the land becoming dormant for winter’s sleep. Fluffy bits of white drifted down from a light gray sky, and my breath clouded the air with puffs of moisture.
“He thinks of you often,” Moira said, breaking the silence. “Azriel.”
I stopped dead in my tracks.
“Does this surprise you?”
Hell, yeah, it did. “Azriel is dead.”
“Azriel is crossed over,” Moira said. “Nothing is ever truly dead. His soul has merely begun a new existence.”
“You’re a Herald-is that right?” It was time to put Levi’s knowledge to work.
“That’s correct.”
“So you speak to the dead?”
Moira motioned her hand before us, urging me to walk. “The crossed over.”
I closed my eyes for the briefest moment, zeroed in on Brakae’s location, and started off. “You speak to the crossed over?” Sheesh.
“When they have something to say, yes.”
“And Azriel had something to say.” My stomach backflipped at the thought. Where was he? Could he see me? Did he know what had happened to me?
“He wants you to know that he holds no ill will toward you. You did what was right and just. He wants you to know”-she paused as if deciding whether she should go farther-“that he cares for you still.”
A sucker punch to the gut would have hurt less. “Is that all he said?”
“That is all he wants you to know. For now.”
Typical. Leave it to Azriel to jerk me around, even in death. Control was his greatest weapon, and he’d taught me to use it like a master. “So I guess that means I can expect to hear from him again?” Oh joy of joys. Just what I needed.
“If he feels so inclined, yes.”
Let’s hope he decides to keep his fat mouth shut. Moira’s lips curved into a half smile, and though I knew she’d heard my thoughts, I was glad she decided to keep her own to herself.
The light snow that peppered our heads and shoulders became dense, sticking to the ground and accumulating with each passing minute. I hated the cold, but I loved snow. Silence seemed to accompany its falling, as if the world held its breath for spring’s arrival. I loved the silence here. Time didn’t hammer like an angry drum, reminding me of its never-ending presence. But despite the peace I felt in this place, it didn’t have Tyler. And I’d rather have an entire percussion section take up residence in my brain than live without him.
My bones began to hum in my body, and I knew we were close. The Ring had called to me in an unmistakable way, and beneath that pull I felt Brakae’s presence calming me. You do realize that Faolán can control me? There was no need to blurt that fact aloud. Moira could hear my thoughts just fine. If it comes to a fight, I don’t know how much help I’ll be.
Faolán’s magic is old and strong. Moira’s thoughts pushed into my head. We’ve already established that. But you, Darian, are a Guardian and have power of your own. Don’t forget your purpose: Protect the natural order. Set your focus on the task at hand. Keep your heart and your mind fixed to Brakae and you’ll be fine. Faolán is strong, but nothing can overpower a Guardian’s protection. Why do you think he now wants you dead?
Good point.
My boots crunched in the snow as we walked, and I shivered at the cold, though it didn’t bother me as much as it usually did. The sooner Faolán fell beneath my sword, the faster I could get the hell out of here and back to Tyler. The Ring called to me, my body welcoming its power the closer we came. I could almost smell Faolán’s foul stench beneath the crisp, clean aroma of snow. My fist tightened around the dagger’s hilt as I quickened my pace. Time to go to work.
The forest thinned as we approached the ring of stones. My chest ached with the force of its power, but I drank it in, inviting rather than rejecting the sensation. Already I felt stronger, my feet more secure beneath my body. My head no longer throbbed, and as I twisted my torso, the stab wound didn’t pull at the stitches. A smile crept to my face as the trees seemed to part in our wake to expose the ancient structure. I was itching for a fight, and Faolán was going to bring one to me.
Cover would be an issue, exposed as we were. My assassin’s instincts kicked in, stealth taking precedence over a charge to battle. Moira motioned for me to follow as she kept to the outer ring, crouching low to the ground and using the sparse trees and bushes for cover. Faolán and Brakae were still out of sight, but they were there, somewhere in the innermost ring. I felt them both, each vying for the top spot in my subconscious. I constructed a mental barrier-a brick wall inside my brain, shutting both of them out. If I allowed Brakae inside my head, it would leave me vulnerable to Faolán’s influence. She said she trusted me. She’d just have to keep trusting me.
I caught Moira’s eye and brought my hand to my temple to indicate what I was attempting to do. She nodded once, and since I couldn’t detect her pushing into my thoughts, I had to assume she read me loud and clear.
“I feel you, Darian!” Faolán’s voice sliced through the silence. “You can’t keep me out, no matter how hard you try!”
Wanna bet, motherfucker? I was going to do everything in my power to ensure he’d messed with my mind for the last time.
As the snow fell around us, collecting on branches and bushes, blanketing the tall stone structures of The Ring, a calm fell on me as well, covering me with a warm composure that this would all end just as it should. I don’t know where it came from, whether it was divine intervention or maybe even Fate itself. But one thing I knew for sure: I was going home, and soon.
Moira caught my eye and smirked-a deadly expression if I ever saw one. She took off through the trees, around the ring of stones to the opposite side. With two Guardians against one fanatic, Faolán didn’t stand a chance.
“I’ll kill her!” the asshole shouted to the sky. “Come any closer and Brakae will die.”
Could he actually kill the woman he loved? Sort of pointless if you ask me. His love for Brakae had been the source of all his bitterness. Why would he kill her when everything he was about to do would ensure that they could be together forever?
I wanted to answer him back, let off a string of curses and snarky comebacks just to taunt him. But I kept quiet, fortified my mental barriers, and waited.
“Do you doubt me?” Faolán kept at it, showing his crazy like a poker hand. “I’ll do it, Darian! I’ll cut her traitorous heart from her breast!”