Guardians of the Akasha (13 page)

“I’m so sorry, Aunt Vic,” she whispered. “Please—please don’t leave me. Just hang on—please! We’ll get help. We’ll call someone. Don’t leave me!” she begged.

Keira rocked the still body tightly to her own; pleaded with Victoria to hold on—help was coming—and whispered words of love and encouragement.

As if from a great distance, she heard voices shouting her name, but the words had no meaning. She couldn’t understand what they wanted from her.

Arms pulled at her, trying to drag her away and she resisted with everything in her. She kicked and twisted, screamed her voice raw that they had to let her go, Victoria needed her.

“Let me go, she needs me!” If she held on a little longer, everything would be all right. “Come on, Aunt Vic—get up—get up!”

Strong arms lifted her from the cobblestones and she was swept over a broad shoulder. Draaken closed in formation around her and fought their way out, through the wooden gate and over the drawbridge. All the while Keira was crying and begging them to go back, trying to get away from whomever was holding her.

The last thing she saw as she was carried away, was a tall, black-cloaked figure. Its hood was thrown back to reveal a long, pale face. Thin lips were pulled up in a sneer. The man stooped over Victoria’s body and intently scanned it for signs of life. Satisfied, he straightened his back and a cold, high-pitched laugh shattered the night. Murderous hate exploded in Keira’s being as she fell into dark unconsciousness.

Chapter 15

Two men sat in shadow; part of it, yet separate. Flickering light from the fireplace threw their profiles in relief, glimpses of hooded eyes and cruel mouths briefly illuminated.

Daemon’s long, elegant fingers clasped a silver cup filled with dark wine and lifted it to his pouting lips. Gold cufflinks glinted as he put the cup down and pulled at the one-half inch of shirt cuff showing from under his black jacket sleeve. His glinting eyes roamed over the Great Hall, taking in the embroidered family crests that hung from the stone walls.

“Those will have to come down,” he intoned. “Time for a change in décor.” The sound of his cold mirth skittered through the Hall into the courtyard. It caused the figures there to pause, shiver, and continue hastily cleaning up the remnants of the battle fought mere hours earlier.

“Yes, sir.” The other shadow cracked his knuckles.

“We nearly had her,” Daemon said and took another sip of his wine.

“Yes, sir,” Julius said, fighting the urge to crack his knuckles again.

“Our information was flawed,” Daemon mused. “The old crone’s defences were stronger than anticipated. An error on our side, but not a grievous one. And the young one…ahhh, the young one—” He sighed as if in ecstasy.

Julius frowned. “Young she might be, but she could sure as hell take care of herself!”

“Hmm, yes. She has power,” Daemon acknowledged. “But it is the power of the untrained. It is unpredictable. Unstable.” He stood up and paced in front of the fireplace. What I wouldn’t do with her by my side. Such potential shouldn’t go to waste.”

“She might not be amenable to our cause, after you killed her aunt, Sir.”

“I do not see that as an obstacle. Anyone can be persuaded to any cause. With the right tools.”

Julius smirked. His boss was a very inventive persuader.

“What have we learned from this experience, my loyal lieutenant?” Without waiting for an answer, Daemon continued: “We must always learn from our mistakes to ensure that we do not make them again!” He raised his voice as if lecturing to a room full of eager students.

“One,” he lifted a finger in the air, “we have learned that the crone didn’t have a lot of time with the young one, which means that her training is incomplete. Two,” and another finger joined the first, “her lack of training makes her vulnerable. Right now she is protected by a small bunch of idiots and they are roaming the forest, looking for a way to escape. We must find them before they cross the border.”

“Sir,” Julius interrupted. “They are being tracked. The hounds have picked up their spoor. We’ll have them before the next nightfall.”

“That is a boast I sincerely hope you are able to fulfil,” Daemon drawled. “But to continue our lesson,” and he lifted a third finger. “According to one of our esteemed guests in the dungeon, Victoria did not share the location of the Book with the rest of the Council. It is unlikely that she shared it with her ward, but we will not discard that possibility. However, our guest also informed me that Victoria intended introducing the girl as their new High Priestess-in-waiting, which underscores her importance and which is why,” finger four rose up, “you must find her and bring her to me. It would be very easy for the Guardians to start believing in this girl—to have hope—and that is something I will not allow them to have.”

Julius stood to attention and nodded his understanding of Daemon’s order.

They both looked up when four men appeared in the front door and shuffled towards the fireplace. “Sirs,” they mumbled in unison.

“Speak!” Julius growled, impatient for news. “How goes the search?”

One of the men was shoved forward by his compatriots. Drops of sweat dotted his pale face and his hands clenched in white-knuckled fear.

“The hounds,” he swallowed.

“Yes?” A warning sounded in Daemon’s calm question.

“You know we could only take three, Sir. The others were injured in the battle. We—when we crossed the river, we were attacked. The wolves—they were everywhere! We came off the boats and the hounds—they—we barely made it back ourselves….” The man’s voice petered off into silence.

“Where are my hounds?” Daemon asked. His voice was cold, dispassionate.

“I am sorry, Sir. They are all—they are all dead.” Another man stepped forward and whispered the news.

A soft growl rumbled in Daemon’s throat, then built up and ripped out of his mouth in an unstoppable torrent of hate and rage. He flung his right arm out and four bodies flew through the air, across the woven carpets and hit the stone wall on the opposite side of the room with a sickening crunch.

The scream took on a life of its own, ringing around and around the Hall, around the courtyard and out over the boundary walls, out over the silent trees that nodded their disapproval in the forest beyond.

*****

Keira regained consciousness in a hushed, upside-down world. Her arms swung rhythmically from side to side below her head, which throbbed as if she had been kicked in the skull by a football player.

“Oh!” she groaned. The swaying stopped and the world flipped right-side up, as she was carefully put back on her feet. She stood for a few wobbling seconds until her legs gave way and she sunk to the ground.

“We don’t have time!” A voice hissed. Keira looked up to see Simone glaring down at her.

“Give her a minute,” Zina said and kneeled down next to Keira. The Healer placed her hands on Keira’s shoulders and there was an immediate relief from the headache.

“Can you walk?” Marco asked without looking at her. He was scanning the forest around them, his body radiating tightly coiled tension.

“Yes,” she mumbled and got up with Zina’s help. “Where are we?” she asked.

“In the forest, on our way to a safe place,” Chloe answered. She had emerged from the trees, with Rafael close behind her.

“Let’s go!” Simone insisted.

Keira could only nod and stumbled behind Marco as he moved off into the undergrowth. A small hand slip into hers and she was flooded with relief when Justin smiled up at her.

“Oh, thank goodness, you’re here!” she whispered and gave him a quick hug.

“I stayed where you said I should. Marco found me when everyone came back down the road. He carried you all this way, you know. He wouldn’t let Adam or anyone else take you.”

“Please—tell me what happened. Did everyone get away?”

Justin hung his head. “No.” Keira could hardly hear him. “Only a few of the Draaken, and none of the Council members.”

“Amber?”

“I don’t know. Zina said Amber’s parents and the rest of the staff should have used the tunnels to escape to the village. We don’t know if they made it.”

Keira clenched her teeth and swore silently at the tears burning behind her eyes.

I will not cry! All those people—Aunt Vic—deserve more from me.

Justin gave her hand a squeeze. “Something in my eye,” he mumbled and looked away.

They walked in silence for a long time before Justin could tell her that the survivors had managed to meet up at the wolves’ lair and regroup. From his whispers, she learned what had happened after Marco had dragged her away from Victoria’s body. He had thrown her over his shoulder and fought his way out over the draw-bridge. Justin’s eyes were round with admiration as he recounted how Marco had carried her to the safety of the woods.

“We were ready to go back and attack them. But Chloe had a vision; she said we were being tracked by a lot of people with those dogs. She said we were outnumbered and reminded everyone that Victoria had said you were our priority.”

“No,” Keira groaned.

“Marco agreed and made us turn around. He asked the wolves to cover our backs; they gave us time to get away.”

Keira winced at Justin’s report. Each word was another lash to the open wound of guilt within her.

I let her down. Now I am responsible for these people’s lives as well. I am not the one they want!

*****

“Shit!” Keira muttered, tripping over another gnarled tree root. Even in the twilight she could see the eyebrow Marco lifted.

“Are you all right?” he asked, overly polite.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she snapped, brushing away the hand he offered.

“Suit yourself,” he snapped back and stalked through the dense undergrowth.

Keira tried to move her legs faster and catch up, but they wouldn’t obey. It felt as if weights were strapped to her ankles; every step was an effort of will. In her exhaustion, the magnificence of the forest surrounding her went unnoticed. She stumbled past towering trees which stood like silent sentries, their canopies disappearing up into the mist. Giant ferns hid narrow passageways created by the countless unseen creatures that made this place their home. A slight breeze stirred the leaves and she became dimly aware of the earthy smell of dark soil, mushrooms, bark, and rotting vegetation.

The cacophonous screeching of birds in the branches above their heads shocked Keira out of her lethargy. The small boost of adrenaline gave her enough energy to hurry and fall back in line behind Marco’s broad back.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw vague outlines of the other people in their group as they flitted through the trees, briefly illuminated by the dim beams of remaining sunlight filtering through the branches. Layers of spongy, dead foliage, collected on the forest floor over countless years, hushed the sound of their footfalls.

Everyone seemed completely at home here; they were tense, but alert. They knew exactly what was expected of them and slipped into their roles with practised ease. It made Keira feel even more the outsider, a stranger among people who were supposed to protect her life with their own. This was a sacrifice Keira couldn’t accept. Victoria tried to explain, but they had too little time together.

The thought of Victoria’s body on the cobblestones made her want to throw her head back and howl in desolation at the sky.

She dragged her mind back as they struggled through a patch of swampy terrain and stagnant water. Putrid mud dragged at their feet and threatened to suck the last energy from their bones. Their passage stirred up a cloud of gnats unusually gifted at finding every inch of exposed flesh.

At last they were on firm ground again, everyone covered in stinking swamp mud.

“At this rate that bastard Daemon won’t even need his hounds to find us. He can sniff us out himself,” someone grumbled nearby.

Marco lifted a hand and signalled the group to stop. They gathered together, forming a protective circle around Keira as she gratefully sank down on a moss-covered tree stump.

“We are not far from the cave,” he said. “Adam, catch up with Chetan and make sure it is safe; we’ll wait here for your signal. The rest of you, fan out.”

Marco watched as everyone followed his directions, then turned back to Keira. There were a few seconds of uncomfortable silence. She could see the tense set of his shoulders, his hands restlessly tapping against his thighs.

“I’m sorry.” She didn’t know what she was apologising for, only that she didn’t want him to feel that he had to babysit her. “You don’t have to stay with me. I know you want to be out there with everyone else.”

He didn’t answer, only scanned the trees with narrowed eyes.

His silence was an added weight of self-recrimination she already carried. Hurt, she bent forward and rested her head on her knees. She only sat up when she heard someone returning.

“It’s clear,” Adam said and motioned them forward. Keira gathered her reserves of strength and walked on.

After a few minutes, the forest floor began to gradually incline. The trees became sparser and she could see patches of darkening sky overhead. As the path got steeper, Keira’s trembling legs had to work even harder to carry her along. More and more frequently, Marco or Adam had to pull her over another slippery, algae-covered obstacle. She had to concentrate with everything she had to put one foot in front of the other.

Adam stopped abruptly; she nearly walked into him. There, behind the skeleton of an enormous oak tree, she could make out the dark yawn of an opening in the mountain side. They had at last reached the cave.

Chloe emerged from the gloom towards them and took Keira’s arm. “Come,” she said.

Keira was too tired to pretend that she could walk any further on her own, and let Chloe support her into the darkness. Though her eyes took a few moments to adjust, Chloe had obviously been here before as she didn’t hesitate making her way down into the inky blackness. The air slowly got colder and Keira could smell that peculiar odour of wet rock and clay. Something flapped past her ear and she instinctively ducked. “Only bats,” Chloe reassured her.