Guardian of the Gate (12 page)

Luisa’s horse runs into the river without hesitation followed by Luisa’s, but Sonia’s horse slows, coming to a stop near the
edge of the water. I hear her urging the animal forward, pleading as if he can understand every word. It does no good. The great, gray beast stands stubbornly still.

There is only a moment — one moment in which everything moves both too slowly and too quickly — to decide what to do. It is an easy decision if only because there are so few options left.

Pulling my horse to a stop, I turn to face the Hounds.

At first, the clearing in front of me is empty. But I hear them coming, and I use the time to reach behind me, pulling the bow from across my back and grabbing an arrow from inside my knapsack. Threading the arrow and pulling it back in preparation for the Hounds is second nature, though all my practice at Whitney Grove could not prepare me for the beast that first crashes through the trees.

It is not what I expect. The creature is not black with red eyes as I imagined a Hound would be. No. Only its ears glow crimson, its fur glimmering white with the brilliance of fine cut glass. It is an eerie contrast, seeing such a beast — and a beast it is, standing nearly as tall as Sargent — covered with such virgin fur. I would almost be willing to brave my fear to stroke that shimmering fur if not for its emerald eyes. Eyes like mine. Like my mother’s and my sister’s. They call to me, a terrifying reminder that, though we may be on opposing sides, we are inexorably connected through the prophecy that binds us all.

I can hear the other beasts howling in the forest behind the Hound in front. I don’t know how many will follow, but it is
all I can do to try to eliminate as many as possible and hope to allow my friends more time to cross the river.

It is not easy to take aim. They are faster than any beast I have ever seen and their nearly translucent fur blends seamlessly into the surrounding mist. It is only the glow of their ears and those magnetic eyes that keep me from losing them in the fog completely.

Aiming carefully for the area I hope is the beast’s chest, I try to find the pattern in his gait. Then I pull the bow tighter and let the arrow fly. It sails through the air, arcing gracefully over the clearing and hitting the Hound so suddenly that I am almost surprised to see him go down.

I am pulling the string back for another shot when something moves out of the corner of my eye and another pristine beast breaks through the tree line on my right. It veers into the clearing in front of me as my mind works at light speed, trying to figure my odds of hitting one more. Holding fast, I focus on the Hound in front of me. I am certain I can take him before he reaches me when yet another Hound turns into the clearing from the left.

And still many, many more can be heard howling in the woods behind these two.

My arms begin to shake as I hold my position… thinking, thinking… trying to decide what to do. A sudden crack sounds behind me to the left, and the Hound entering the clearing falls in an instant. Gunpowder scents the air, and I know without taking my eyes off the clearing that Edmund is covering me with his rifle.

“Lia! There isn’t time! Get to the river
now
.”

Edmund’s voice shakes my certainty. Still gripping my bow, I wheel Sargent to face the river, making a break for the water with as much speed as I can manage while clutching my bow. Edmund zips past me, heading for the middle of the river, but Sonia’s horse still stalls at the bank. She struggles with the reins, trying to coax him into the water to no avail. He high-steps around the rocky ground, lifting and turning his head in response to Sonia’s commands.

I do not have time to think. Not really. Racing toward the water, I stretch out a hand as I come up behind Sonia’s horse. When I reach his flank, I slap with all my might.

At first, I don’t know if it has worked, for my own horse speeds past Sonia and heads straight into the water. His hooves splash across the river bottom, but it is more a sensation than a sound for I cannot hear anything but the Hounds. Their howl is so close I believe I feel the heat of their breath on my back. I push Sargent farther into the river, praying he will not stop or turn around and head back to the bank.

But it is not Sargent that should worry me. He is willing and able to continue to the middle of the river. It is my own fear that rises suddenly within, starting at my feet, completely submerged in the river, and continuing up my legs and into my chest until my heart beats so madly I can no longer hear even the Hounds. My breath comes fast and shallow, but I do not feel the urge to flee. Instead, I pull hard on the reins, forcing Sargent to a stop so hard and fast that he nearly rears out of the water as Sonia whips past us into the river.

But I am rooted to Sargent, and Sargent, at my behest, is rooted to the riverbed. I am terrified into a kind of apathetic stillness, and in this moment, I would rather die at the hands of the Hounds than brave the river.

“It’s time to go.”

I turn toward the sound of the voice. When I do, Edmund is back at my side. I both wish he had continued to the other side of the river and love him for staying.

I have time to meet his gaze for only a second before a sound on the riverbank gets my attention. It is not the Hounds, but something else. Some
one
else, just beyond them. A caped figure astride a black horse positioned behind the Hounds, as if they are no more than hunting dogs.

This alone would be mystifying enough. But when the figure pushes back the hood of his cape, I am left with only more questions.

I try to register too many things at once: the Hounds entering the water though they are clearly hesitant, Edmund standing to my side and refusing to continue with the others, and Dimitri Markov calmly mounted atop his horse behind the Hounds at the riverbank.

None of it does anything to spur me forward.

“It is time to go, Lia.” Edmund’s voice is soft but firm, and even through my fear I register that he has used my given name for the first time in all the years I have known him. “They feel your fear. They’re coming for you. There are too many for the rifle, and you’re not close enough to the other side to hold them at bay.”

His words make sense in some distant corner of my mind, but I still do not move. The Hounds splash carefully into the water, wetting first their paws and then continuing, albeit
slowly, until they are submerged up to their bellies and standing only a few feet away from Edmund and me.

And still, I cannot move, cannot will myself to prompt Sargent forward though his muscles tense with the urge to flee. I know he feels the danger in the air every bit as much as I.

It is only as Dimitri makes a move toward the river, toward me, that I shake loose from my stupor, though still not enough to cause me to move. I am not the only one who pauses to watch his progress. The Hounds turn as well, their impressive snowy heads swiveling to face this new player in our drama. Dimitri stares them down, and for a moment I am sure there is some manner of unspoken communication between them.

The Hounds tense as Dimitri’s sleek horse splashes through the shallowest water toward us. Their heads swing from side to side, alternately watching me and keeping track of Dimitri’s progress without moving from their position. It is as if they know him, as if they are deferring to him out of some bizarre brand of respect. I can see the need in their eyes when they look at me, the desire to close the gap between us and take me while they can.

But theirs is a thirst that goes unquenched. They simply watch as Dimitri brings his horse alongside mine. The current becomes stronger as the sky darkens toward night, and I feel Sargent trying to keep a foothold on the rocky riverbed as Dimitri reaches out to take the reins from my freezing hands. He looks into my eyes, and I feel that we have known each other forever.

“It’s all right. Just trust me, and I’ll get you across.” There is tenderness in his voice, as if something unspeakably intimate has passed between us since our meeting at the Society, though we have not seen each other once from that moment to this.

“I’m… I’m afraid.” The words are out of my mouth before I have time to check them, and I hope that they are softer than I imagine. That perhaps Dimitri hasn’t heard my cowardice over the roar of the river.

He nods. “I know.” His eyes burn into mine. In them is a promise. “But I won’t let anything happen to you.”

I swallow hard, and somehow, I know that he will die before he sees me come to harm, though I cannot say why that should be when we don’t know each other at all. Still, I nod without speaking and grab hold of the saddle.

Dimitri places one hand on my bow. “Here, let me help you with this.”

I am surprised to see the bow still in my hands. Holding on to it is a habit. My fingers are so cold Dimitri can barely pry it from my hand, but after a moment, he finally manages to free it from my stiff fingers. He lifts it over my head, positioning it gently against my back.

“There you are. Now hold on tight.” He presses my hand to the front of the saddle until my fingers grip the leather of their own volition.

In this one instance, I do not mind being spoken to as a child.

Dimitri meets Edmund’s eyes and Edmund nods as if to
prompt us forward in front of him, but Dimitri shakes his head.

“You must go in front. You will not be under my protection otherwise.” Edmund hesitates and Dimitri continues. “You have my word that nothing will happen to Lia.”

Hearing Dimitri speak my name, Edmund nods, urging his horse forward into the deeper water as Dimitri gathers Sargent’s reins, drawing my horse closer to his own mount.

“Hold on.” It is the last thing he says to me before following Edmund farther into the river.

At first, Sargent must be pulled forward by Dimitri’s strong hands, but as the horse finds it more and more difficult to maintain stability against the power of the current, he finally eases forward after Dimitri. I sense the animal’s trepidation as he seeks to gain his footing by stepping carefully along the rocks at the bottom of the river.

I cling to the saddle with all my might. My fingers cramp, but I hardly notice. I try to focus on Edmund in front of us, and when I look beyond him, I see Sonia and Luisa astride their horses on the opposite bank of the river. My spirits lift as I realize they have made it.

If they have made it, so can we.

But I do not have time to hope. All at once, Sargent falters, slipping and struggling to regain a foothold on the slippery river bottom. Panic surges through me as I slide off his back, the water closing in around my thighs as I hold desperately to the saddle. It is not the water itself that gives rise to terror, but the sound of it that threatens my last vestige of sanity.
That mad roar, that frenzied race of water over rocks. It is the sound of my brother’s death. The sound of my own near death trying in vain to save him.

I fight the urge to scream, but when I look at Dimitri, his eyes are as steely as the sky above us. He is not afraid, and in his steadfast belief that we will make it across the river, I find my own belief.

I hold on tighter. “Come on, Sargent. We’re almost there. Don’t give up on me now.”

He doesn’t. He seems to understand, for his legs straighten and he lifts himself farther out of the water, plodding forward after Dimitri and his horse as if there was never any question of his doing so. It is only seconds later that the water level begins to drop, revealing first my sodden thighs, encased in the wet wool of my breeches, and then my calves. Soon enough, we are rising out of the depths of the river, and my feet are out of the water completely as Dimitri leads Sargent to the others waiting a few feet beyond the bank.

“Oh, my goodness, Lia!” Luisa dismounts and is on the ground in an instant. She rushes toward me, her shirt and pants as wet as those clinging to my own body. “Are you all right? I was so frightened!”

Sonia brings her horse over to mine, reaching over for one of my icy hands. “I didn’t know if you were going to make it!”

For a moment, all the suspicion of previous days drops away. For a moment, we are three friends as we have been since the prophecy first shrouded us in its murky secrets.

Edmund leads his horse over to us at a trot. He eyes Dimitri
with something like admiration. “I didn’t expect you for two days yet, but I must say I’m glad you were early.”

My brain is fuzzy about the edges, and I only dimly register Edmund’s words and the fact that he knows Dimitri and was somehow expecting him. A clattering rises out of the quiet. I do not realize at first that it is coming from my mouth, but soon my teeth chatter together so noisily that I can hear them even above the river.

“She’s cold and in shock,” Dimitri says.

“Let’s get off this riverbank then.” Edmund’s eyes drift to the Hounds, still standing in the water as if they might make a run at us any moment. “I don’t like the look of them.”

Dimitri follows Edmund’s gaze to the Hounds before turning back to us. “They will not follow us, but that doesn’t mean we are free from danger. It would be wise to make camp for the night and regroup.”

Edmund turns and heads back to the front of the group. We fall into line out of habit, though Dimitri still leads Sargent by the reins. I do not have the energy to insist that I can manage fine on my own. In all honesty, I am relieved to let someone else take the lead for a while.

The forest begins again not far from the bank of the river. As we enter the darkness of the woods, I dare to glance back. I can see the Hounds over Edmund’s shoulder, still standing in the water where we left them. Their green eyes find mine even across the expanse of rushing water, even through the smoky twilight. They are the last things I see before we disappear into the woods once again.