Blood of the Guardian (37 page)

The Guardians had left at first light in search of Jezebelle and the stones. Greer was convinced they could find her and retrieve them before the Talasian army arrived. But now, Nolan worried more about them. The Guardians had their honor and would do everything not to harm Jezebelle. However, Jezebelle wouldn’t have any problems killing them.

Rayen entered, clothed in a new dress of blue with flowers appliquéd along the sleeves. The castle seamstress had gotten ahold of her too, it seemed. She pulled the apple from Alec’s grasp and sat, taking a bite. She studied it, turning it in her hand. “Now
this
is good.”

Alec shook his head. “She likes the apple but hates my pastries. And by the way, that was mine.”

“The pastries are … What is the word? Honorable?”

“You mean horrible.”

“Yes. Horrible.” She grinned and took another bite.

“Bizarre girl. Doesn’t know what’s good or not.”

She pointed at Alec. “You are good.”

“You’re right,” Nolan said. “She’s clueless.”

Alec snorted and nabbed another apple from the bowl. He whipped it at him, but Nolan easily snatched it from the air.

“So are you ready to take on an army?” Alec asked.

“Do I need to? As strong as the Talasian warriors are, they don’t have Shay powers. The Rol’dan can defend themselves without me.”

“Or,” Rayen said, “we will all talk and become friends.”

Alec’s eyes softened at Rayen. “Of course.”

Nolan wasn’t worried about the Talasians. Rayen was right: Once they saw her, their violence could very well pass, especially if their queen was alive and well. Nolan ran a hand over his chin and sighed. At least this pending confrontation helped him avoid his thoughts of Rikar. He wondered where the Guardian was now. Would he ever see him again? He said he would find out more about Jezebelle’s past. Was she Nolan’s sister?

Nolan turned to Alec and found his friend’s eyes studying him.

“Hey, Rayen?” Alec said.

“Yes?”

“Could you go to the kitchen and bring me more apples?”

She nodded and stood. “Would you like anything else?”

“A pitcher of water would be great.”

She glided across the room and passed through the door.

Nolan laughed. “How’d you manage to get a queen waiting on you like a servant?”

Alec scowled. “Okay, Nolan. What’s wrong?”

Nolan’s jaw dropped. “What do you mean? There’s only a war coming, and the stones are missing. My powers weaken by the day, and the Guardians are risking their lives to try and get the stones back for me. What else could there be?”

“No. Something
else
is bothering you. It’s been bothering you since you returned from that nightforsaken gypsy camp.”

“I’ve been through a lot. I told you what happened.”

Determination flared in Alec’s emotions. “You’re a bad liar. Something is eating you—and you’re going to tell me.”

Nolan stared, shocked. Was he that transparent? His issues were small in comparison to everything else going on. Why should he bother Alec with his problems?

“You can tell me anything,” Alec said, his emotions stubborn.

Nolan nodded slowly. It would be good to tell someone, especially Alec. He sighed. “Rikar is my father.”

“Wasn’t your father’s name Boren or Boden or something?”

Nolan leveled his gaze at Alec.

Alec sucked in a breath. “Oh … you mean your father isn’t really your father.”

Silence followed, and Nolan studied his hands.

“Um, Nolan? Who’s Rikar?”

Nolan hesitated. He pried the next words from his throat. “Rikar is the Guardian I met at the gypsy camp.”

Realization fell across Alec’s face. “Oh …
That
Rikar? Are you sure?”

Nolan nodded, his head heavy.

“Does this explain what you are?”

Nolan nodded again.

Staring ahead, Alec crunched another bite from his apple, chewing slowly. “Here I thought you were having trouble with Kat.”

Nolan snorted a laugh. “Kat? Why would I be having trouble with Kat? I’ve barely seen her since I returned.”

“Was hoping you two would … Well, she likes you.”

Nolan sighed. “I know.”

“And you like her too.”

Nolan’s eyes widened. “I don’t—”

“Don’t even try,” Alec said. “Like I said, you’re a bad liar.”

“Is it fair to her? I’m not even human!”

“Honestly,” Alec said, his mouth rising in a smirk. “I don’t think Kat minds.”

Nolan groaned and put both hands on his head. This was the least of his concerns, as if he needed something else to clutter his mind.

Alec sucked in a breath. “Wait! What about Jezebelle? Is she half Guardian too?”

“So it would seem.”

“So who is
her
father?”

Nolan shrugged. “Rikar had done this before. To a lot of women, I guess. My mother was one of many. He transforms into humans, into people they know. Last night he pretended to be Emery—”

Alec grabbed his arm. “Wait! You mean Megan?”

“Don’t worry. Greer stopped him.”

Alec nodded, his shoulders relaxing. “I was wondering what happened. So that’s why the Guardians destroyed the conference room. The soldiers and the staff talked about it all day.”

“Greer wasn’t happy.”

“I imagine not. I bet Emery wasn’t all that happy, either.”

“No. Rikar left Faylinn right away.”

Alec stared at him, sympathy pulsing from his emotions until realization, then shock took its place. “If Rikar does this, does that make Jezebelle … your
sister
?”

“Maybe. Don’t know for sure.”

“So, if she comes here,” Alec said, “are you okay with fighting her?”

“I am,” Nolan said, although, truthfully, he wasn’t sure. He’d protect the people he loved, no matter who attacked them. The question that pressed in Nolan’s mind wasn’t if he was
willing
to fight her, it was if he’d be strong enough if she arrived. Hopefully, the Guardians would find her before she came to Faylinn. He needed the stones to have any chance.

Rayen reappeared with a pitcher in one hand, a bowl of apples in the other, and a plate of pastries balanced on her arm. They both stared at her, impressed. She set them all down without fumbling.

Alec’s face broke into a wide grin. “You are the
best
.”

A smug grin pulled at her lips. “I must go. King Emery wants to talk about my people’s coming.”

“I’ll see you this evening?”

“Will be back soon.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. Embarrassment leaked from Alec’s emotions, but his eyes followed her as she left the room.

They dug into the pastries, and Nolan thought more about the possibility of fighting Jezebelle. Kael was a far better swordsman, at least in raw talent, than Nolan would ever be—if you didn’t count Nolan’s Shay advantages. And if Kael had struggled fighting her, Nolan definitely needed to learn more about this enemy. Which meant he needed to know everything about the way she fought. And though he could research—Emery had quite a big library—hands-on training was always more effective.

“What does your father know about daggers?” Nolan asked.

“Daggers?” Alec repeated as he brushed crumbs from his shirt. “You mean making them or fighting with them?”

“Both.”

“He makes perfect daggers, and he uses them well too. Why?”

“Well,” Nolan said, “Jezebelle uses daggers.”

“Ah. So you want to learn daggers?”

Nolan shrugged. “Might be a good idea.”

“You can do it,” Alec said. “You are half Guardian, after all.”

Nolan cringed at the comment, even if Alec only teased him. “Want to come along? Or would you rather stay in bed?”

Alec grinned; the scar dissecting his lip puckered. “Would I rather stay in bed? Darkness, no. I’m sure Father is at his forge.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

KARDOS DEVERELL WAS A MAN like no other. He only came up to Nolan’s chest, but he walked around Nolan, inspecting him like a farmer might examine a prize bull. Fearlessness and determination poured from the blacksmith. No one needed to question where Alec had gotten his pigheaded streak.

“Take those off,” Kardos said, jabbing at the leather straps holding Nolan’s spikes. “And that too,” he said toward the blade.

Nolan unbuckled his weapons and laid them on the ground near the wall, feeling naked. Since the incident with Jezebelle, he didn’t like being unarmed.

“Take off your shirt,” Kardos said.

Nolan looked at Alec, who held up both hands in a
don’t look at me
gesture. His friend tried to hide his grin, but his emotions were so full of mirth, it was quite a distraction.

Nolan sighed and pulled his tunic over his head. Kardos made another pass. “Will do, I suppose.” He slapped Nolan’s arm. “Hold it out.”

Nolan did as he was told, and Kardos grabbed his wrist.

The blacksmith’s hands were calloused and rough, with thick fingers and a strong grasp. He turned Nolan’s arm, examining it from each angle. He slapped Nolan’s palm open, then inspected it. “I don’t have any daggers your size. Can make some, but it’ll take a few days.”

“Anything will be fine,” Nolan said.

“Who’s the weapons master here? You? Don’t see you workin’ my forge.” He eyed him, brown eyes squinting under bushy brows. “The ones I have are too small. It’s got to fit properly.”

He went to a wall where an arsenal of swords and bits of armor were displayed. In a short, squatty barrel near the ground, he rummaged through several handles. Finally, he pulled out two daggers. He tossed one at Nolan.

Nolan caught it, his Accuracy flaring to life without thought. He cursed under his breath, pushing it back down. He couldn’t fritter away his power for something so simple as catching a blade.

Kardos tilted his head. “Accuracy?” He circled Nolan one more time, the second dagger clutched in his hand. Nolan waited for him to finish searching for whatever he was looking for when pain flashed through his back.

Nolan grabbed the spot, and his hand pulled away red and warm. Kardos held a dagger, its edge tinted with blood.

“Lesson number one,” Kardos said. “Those who fight with daggers don’t follow rules. They don’t give a rat’s backside if you’re ready or not. They’d even prefer to sneak up on you if you let them. My guess is this gypsy of yours falls into that sort of description, eh?”

Healing flared involuntarily, closing his wound; Kardos eyed the spot, a smirk hinting on his face. “Healing too, eh? Good. You’re going to need it.”

Over the next hour, Kardos pushed him, slashing and jabbing, giving Nolan so many cuts he lost count. Any time Nolan even considered flaring a Shay power for defense, Kardos would explode, flinging curse words to make a dungeon guard blush.

“This wench you’ll be fighting,” Kardos yelled, “she’ll be having the powers too? So don’t use them against me. When you fight her, you won’t have that advantage.”

Nolan closed another wound—a nasty one on his shoulder—and refocused. He risked a glance at Alec, who seemed to enjoy this far too much. He turned back, just in time to feel Kardos’s dagger slide under his ribs, all the way to the hilt.

Nolan gasped.

Kardos pushed, jamming it farther in. His emotions were steady, not cruel. “Pay attention.”

He yanked the blade out, and Nolan collapsed to his knees, his Healing flaring to life before he hit the ground.

“Father!” Alec jumped to his feet.

“Don’t get all worried, boy,” Kardos said, flicking his dagger and spotting the ground with red. “He can heal.”

Nolan blinked back his shock and stabbed Kardos in the leg.

Kardos yelled, and his leg buckled. Nolan grabbed his arm before the blacksmith fell and healed the wound closed. “I can heal others too.”

A grin spread across Kardos’s face. He swiped his dagger toward Nolan, leaving a clean slash running horizontally across his chest.

Nolan grunted, biting back the stinging pain. He flared his Healing, but not before a crimson waterfall painted his chest.

Kardos stepped away, tossing his dagger from one hand to the other; his eyes were as wild as his hair. “All right, lad. Let’s see what you’ve really got. Just don’t kill me.”

***

As with any lesson from Kardos, it always drew a crowd. The first time he’d met Alec in Alton, Nolan had walked into Kardos’s shop and watched him and his father dueling as if to the death. Today was similar, except Nolan was the one being sliced by the blacksmith. Alec sat to the side, grinning, having the time of his life. And, unlike Alec’s fights, this one was a bloodbath.

Kardos swept in, jabbing and leaving a mark.