Blood of the Guardian (14 page)

“And what of your scars?” Greer translated.

His relaxed mood tensed abruptly. “My scars?”

“My warriors tell me you were once a slave.”

Alec glared at Jezebelle, who shrugged a bare shoulder, a smirk on her face.

“My warriors say this, but I do not believe,” Greer interpreted. “This … ” Kamalin made a slashing motion across his own face. “ … is not the mark of a slave brand or whip. Tell me what gave you this mark.”

Alec hesitated, feeling Rayen’s eyes hard on him. Slowly, he unsheathed his sword with a metallic hiss and laid it on the table in front of him.

Kamalin picked up the sword, examining it from several angles. Alec hadn’t noticed until now that all of his eating utensils were either pottery or wood. Even the warrior’s weapons, the spears, were wood with stone points. Metal seemed to be foreign to Talasi.

Kamalin brushed his thumb across the edge of the blade. Alec was about to warn him, but Kamalin sliced his thumb before he could stop him. Kamalin jerked his hand back but didn’t complain. He examined the wound; blood traced the line, collecting and then dripping down his tattooed arm.

Kamalin nodded and rose. He motioned for Alec to rise as well.

“Greer?” Alec asked. “What’s he thinking?”

“He does not seem to have any ill feelings toward you, Master Alec. He is only curious about the sword.”

Alec rose, his heartbeat increasing. He didn’t like facing someone armed, especially when he didn’t have a weapon of his own.

Kamalin came toward him, the sword awkward in a two-handed grip. He was tall, much taller than he’d looked when he had stood next to Nolan. Intricate tattoos covered the chieftain’s bronzed skin. The details were hard to see unless you were up close, like he was right now. He was in his middle years, but his body rippled with well-defined muscles and faint scars hiding under the black marks on his skin. His dark eyes inspected Alec. He circled him, sword in hand.

“Greer?” Alec asked again.

“Do not worry, Master Alec. He is only—”

Pain ripped across Alec’s arm. Alec whirled to face Kamalin. His upper arm twitched where the sword had sliced through. Kamalin showed no emotion; he merely examined Alec’s wound.

“Stand down, Alec,” Greer said.

Alec’s arms shook with the need to fight.

Kamalin raised the sword, this time, point first at Alec’s chest.

Alec held his breath—and willed his Shay to life.

The expressionless mask of the chief fell briefly as Alec’s eyes glowed. He regained his composure before he spoke. “You take pain like a true warrior,” Greer translated. “And these marks were done by others. They are not the right angle to do with your own hand.”

“Do with my own hand?” Alec snorted. “Why would I do it with my own hand?” As if he had nothing better to do than slice himself for fun. Ridiculous savage.

Kamalin leaned in close, speaking in his Talasian tongue. “These emotions of yours … I would think they would weaken you, but you are a warrior of great strength.” He held out the sword to Alec.

Alec reached for it, realizing his arm wasn’t working right. He checked the wound and cursed. Streams of red trailed down his arm, dripping onto the floor. His new tunic had been sliced and soaked in blood. Before Alec could object, Kamalin grabbed the top of his tunic and tore the sleeve clean from his arm. In practiced movements, he wrapped the sleeve on the wound and tied it off.

So much for my new shirt.
He turned to Greer and sighed. “Greer? Can you help me out here?”

Greer rose and touched Alec’s arm. Warmth seeped from the Guardian’s fingers and spread into Alec’s arm. Healing energy pulsed through him, and the wound tingled before the pain left completely. Alec opened and closed his hand and moved his arm. It was still hard to get used to how fast the Healing Shay worked. He took off the makeshift bandage. Maybe Greer could sew it back on.

Kamalin stared at Alec’s arm. He grabbed his wrist and yanked it up, inspecting the wound.

“I suppose he’s never—” Pain sliced through Alec’s arm again. “Ouch! What the—!”

“
Eckene
.” Kamalin held up Alec’s arm, freshly gashed from his sword.

“He wants to see it again,” Greer said.

“Again?” Alec said, his teeth gritted. “The nightforsaken savage could’ve sliced his own arm, for Brim’s sake.”

Greer touched Alec, and healing pulsed through him again. This time, Kamalin leaned in, watching as the wound sealed closed.

Kamalin nodded, appearing satisfied. Then he held out his hand, showing Greer the cut on his thumb. “
Eckene
.”

Greer touched him. His eyes flashed Guardian white, and Kamalin’s wound sealed. Kamalin sucked in a breath, his eyebrows rising uncharacteristically. Then his mask returned. He nodded and strode toward the door.

The warriors left with him, followed by the servants. Rayen remained on her cushion, staring at Alec in a whole new way. The curious intensity of her stare faded, replaced by wonderment. Even though she kept her emotions in check, her eyes held many expressions all on their own.

Alec scanned the room. Jezebelle was no longer here. He wondered when she’d slithered off. At least now that Greer could speak the language, Alec wouldn’t have to see that disgusting wench as often, if at all. He wondered how well she could swim.

He snorted at his own joke. All it would take would be one toss, using his Speed, and she wouldn’t have the slightest clue what happened. Maybe as they passed by an island. He didn’t want her to drown, did he? No. He just wanted her gone.

“Master Alec,” Greer said. “Is that a wise idea?”

Alec stared at him. Sometimes he wondered if the Guardian could read his mind. “Is what a wise idea?”

One of Greer’s brows rose. “Throwing her off the ship?”

Alec’s mouth dropped open.
He can read my mind!
He cleared his throat. “No. But it’s fun to think about.”

Greer smiled. “On this instance, I might agree.”

Alec threw his head back and laughed for the first time since he’d left on this nightforsaken ship. He’d been too sick to do anything but hang over the rails. He turned to Rayen’s seat and was surprised to see her still there, watching them.

“Hey, Greer. How do you say ‘thank you’?”

Greer’s brow furrowed. “I do not believe they have such a phrase in their language.”

“No thank you?”

“Thank you expresses gratitude. Gratitude is an emotion. The Talasi—”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it.”

Alec paced, trying to figure out how to explain “thank you.” It was one of those things taught to a child. He remembered his mother, how she always insisted he say it. When she made him a meal … when they went to the baker … when he played with friends. He even thanked the Rol’dan scum for their service to the armory. When he didn’t mean it, he pretended to be grateful. Everyone did. Well … not everyone, apparently. The Talasian didn’t even know what it was. He couldn’t imagine not recognizing those simplest of words.

He picked up the cup. “Thank you for the tea.”

A hint of confusion escaped her hard, Talasian exterior.

“Oh, for Brim’s sake,” Alec muttered, then he plastered a smile over his annoyance. He shoved the cup into her hands. “Thank you.”

“Tank you?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Her brows furrowed.

“I’m happy I’m not sick anymore. Thank you.”

Greer translated, and her face showed no change or understanding.

“Haapy?” she asked.

Alec sighed and impulsively grabbed her, squeezing her into a hug. She tensed at first, and then she relaxed and brought her arms slowly around him.
Finally,
she might understand. After a few long seconds, he pulled away and smiled. But before he could speak, she lunged forward, pressing her lips to his.

Alec’s head swam. He’d kissed Taryn before, but not like this. Rayen brought her hand up, threading her fingers through his hair, and pulled his head, pressing his lips hard against hers. She broke away, meeting his eyes. She said nothing, but her stare spoke a multitude of words.

Alec’s breath came out short, his heart hammering. Before he could move or respond, she turned and walked from the room, her posture erect, her movements full of grace. Alec remained like stone, his eyes wide and unblinking.

“What was that?” he finally said, shaking away his shock.

“I believe,” Greer said, “she understood what you were trying to say.”

“That’s good,” Alec said. “So … why?”

“She is saying ‘you are welcome’ I would guess.”

Alec nodded slowly, his brain wrapping around the moment. He was glad she understood; however, now
he
was more confused than ever.

Chapter Thirteen

ALEC SPENT THE REMAINING DAYS of the trip sitting at the rails. Not because of illness, but because he actually wanted to view the sea. Now that he wasn’t hanging over the side, spewing strange, exotic foods, he could finally get a glimpse of what Nolan loved. White foam edged the gentle waves. Sunshine reflected on the surface of the water, sparkling like gems. It was … pretty. Not like he wanted to run away and become a sailor or anything. But he could appreciate it a bit more.

As they drifted along, he studied the contours of the land. He’d never seen Adamah from this angle. Trees covered the shore, broken up by the occasional city or town. Moss and branches hung into the water, brushing against the green film along the water’s edge. And every time they passed a town, the docks flooded with curious spectators.

Alec’s eyes drifted from the nearest town back to the other end of the ship’s deck. Rayen and Greer sat on a blanket together, deep in conversation. He wasn’t sure why it bothered him. He should be happy she wasn’t bothering him instead. They saw enough of each other when he got his food, or when she walked by him. She’d wordlessly pass him tea, and he’d gulp it down and walk away. Greer could have her company; he didn’t want it anyway. But it didn’t explain why jealousy stabbed him.

She was a curious little thing—even if he wasn’t interested. She was pretty, he admitted, but that was all. He tried to push her from his thoughts, but her kiss kept wedging into his mind. And every time she handed him his tea, her fingers lingered on his. She didn’t smile or flirt with him like other girls had done at his father’s armory back home, but her eyes always fixed on him with an intense stare.

He pulled his gaze away from the pair and back to the shore. The dock swarmed with more people than usual. He recognized this town. Since he’d come into his Speed, and after what happened with Taryn and with Nolan, he’d done a fair amount of traveling to distract himself from the overwhelming emotions. The last couple of months, he’d visited most of the cities in Adamah to see places he’d heard about but had not seen. Why not? Traveling was better than sitting around with a bunch of Rol’dan. Besides, his friends reminded him too much of what had happened and everything he’d lost. With his Speed, he could go from one place to another easily. He’d switched cities often, as he’d found it hard to stay in one place for too long.

This town he remembered far too well.

It was trouble; one too many drunks had tried their hand at fighting Alec. They were idiots, of course. Alec hadn’t worked up much of a sweat dueling them. But if he had been a common man … Well, let’s just say a person shouldn’t go there unless they had to.

A movement out of the corner of his eye drew his attention. He turned as Rayen’s small figure sat next to him, so close her arm brushed his.

“Get bored with Greer?” Alec asked.

Rayen stared at him with expressionless, dark eyes.

Alec smiled. “He can be a bit dull sometimes, at least in his old man form. Now, when you see him all Guardian-like, that’s something else. Nearly made me wet my breeches the first time. He looks a lot like my friend Nolan does now.”

She watched, listening.

“Nolan was at the docks. Not sure if you saw him or not. He’s hard to miss. He talked to your dad in Renfrew. You know, when your father came on that boat to the shore.” Alec smiled sadly. “Haven’t talked to Nolan much lately, at least not since his change.”

Alec relaxed and watched the banks, leaning back on his arms. He noticed a group of men gathering at the docks.

“Nolan isn’t as strong as he used to be,” Alec continued. “Not emotionally, at least. I don’t think he’s taking this Emissary thing well at all. He can’t stand how people stare at him.

“Kind of like how everyone stares at me here, like I’m a freak. I’m used to it. People would come watch my dad and me fight all the time. Nolan doesn’t know how to handle it, doesn’t know what to do with the attention. And as much as he’d like to, he can’t hide.”

He touched his face where the scar disfigured him. “I guess Nolan and I are a lot alike. I’m a bit of a freak too.”

He studied her face as she studied his. She was quite beautiful. Exotic even. Too bad she didn’t speak anything but Talasian. Too bad Alec would never love again.

“What is freak?” she asked.