Messenger (Guardian Trilogy Prequel 1) (10 page)

My muscles stiffened at her knowledge. “Why do you ask?”

A faint upturn to her lip made me think she was beginning to find me entertaining again, as she exposed an unknown fact to our listeners. “There was another of your kind in the eastern territory.”

The room broke into a hum of curious whispers at this revelation, but I kept my face frozen in serenity.

“We weren’t lent the chance to meet her, the other Messenger, before her untimely demise, but we felt the same way around her as we do around you.” Her eyes narrowed as she waited for my reaction.

“I see,” I replied keeping my voice as steady as possible. Considering the tension in the room, I was surprised at my success. “And what was her demise?”

Kaila sighed in a bored manner. “A blade to the stomach.”

My muscles contracted as she delivered this news. A string of words ran through my mind a second later:
They knew of the first messenger to die eternally… More importantly, they knew details about her death.

“Were you present when she died?” I asked, listening as my voice faltered and quivered with emotion on the last word.

Kaila dipped her head and smiled up through her lashes at me. “So you
are
connected…,” she replied as if it was a foregone conclusion.

When I didn’t respond a curious light grew in her eyes. She was getting the information she came for now.

“I wonder…if Horace would feel the same pain with you as he did with her and whether it might be enough to end your life too…”

Before she was finished, the sound of blades scraping along their sheaths filled the room. When I looked up Eran’s sword was drawn above my head while the Kohlers also held blades in a readied position. The other guests rushed clumsily to distance themselves from us, given that the door was their only exit and Eran stood in front of it.

“I wonder,” Kaila postulated, “do we really need to wait for Horace? Shouldn’t we simply end the pain now?” Slowly, as she let this speculation sink in, her expression turned into one of anticipation and she breathed excitedly, “Yes, yes, we should.”

Then she lunged.

Her blade didn’t get far. Eran’s sword broke its speed and angle, deflecting it from me. By then, I was standing and withdrawing my own sword, trying to assess all that was happening through the chaos.

People were screaming, rushing to dodge others who were moving arbitrarily in search of an escape. Eran was taking on all three of the triplets in a spectacular array of swift fists, agile kicks, and precise swordsmanship. It was a sight that left me in awe for the few seconds I was able to watch.

The swords fell from the Kohlers hands one by one until they were scrambling for the door, which was accessible now that Eran had stepped aside from it.

The feeble piece of wood slammed inward, cracking down the middle, and exposing the cold, dark night. The Kohlers disappeared into it, fleeing as quickly as if they had taken flight.

Eran and I stood facing the dark gap, waiting for one, for any of them to return. The noise behind us quieted, but there was movement outside in the streets.

“They’ve woken others,” someone said through an exhale. It sounded like he was still trying to catch his breath after the commotion.

Without another word, Eran took hold of my elbow and led me through the door and out into the night.

CHAPTER NINE: TEST

T
HERE WAS NO DOUBT IN MY
mind that the Kohlers were my link to understanding the messengers’ demise, but I needed help determining exactly what connected them. I needed Hermina.

That night in the afterlife, I entered the clearing to find that it was not in the midst of chaotic scrimmages, as was typical. Instead, Daniel and Jacob had cleared it and instructed the messengers to form a single line, leading into the brush.

Hermina, who stood in the middle, found me stepping up to the back of the line and raised her eyebrows. After furtively, backing up to join me, she whispered, “What’s the occasion?”

“I know, I’ve missed the last few practices.”

“Only the last few?” she challenged.

I shrugged. “Who’s counting?”

A fluttering disturbed the peace around us and Jacob landed beside me, his wings ruffled after his jaunt across the clearing to us. “So nice of you to bless us with your presence,” he said, frowning.

Hermina leaned in and said, “Someone has…”

“Will you be missing anymore of our trainings?” Jacob inquired haughtily, making it clear by his tone that it was not recommended.

“Yes,” I said bluntly. “I’m just stopping in.”

He scoffed in disgust before admitting defeat and retreating back to his place beside Daniel.

I leaned toward Hermina. “I need to speak to you.”

“Of course.”

“So much has happened that I don’t know where to start.”

“At the beginning,” she suggested.

“Right…”

A scream echoed through the jungle and several yards in a cluster of trees trembled.

“What kind of practice is this?” I asked, hesitantly.

“Daniel and Jacob have created a course. They claim that anyone who makes it through is ready to fight Fallen Ones.”

“Has anyone?”

“Not without injury,” she muttered, disdainfully.

The messenger, who had been in the midst of an attempt, appeared in the trees, struggling to stay aloft with only one functioning wing. His name was Stoyan and he was known for maneuvering sinuously in the air. The next messenger stepped forward sheepishly until she had disappeared into the shadows.

Keeping my voice low, I said, “I know the name of the person who took one of the messenger’s lives.”

Instantly, I had Hermina’s attention again.

“His name is Horace. He was in the east to where I’m living now.”

“To the east of you?” Hermina muttered. “Then that would have been Anna. The first messenger.”

“Yes, that’s correct. He didn’t like the way he felt around her, so he took her life.”

“Didn’t like the way he felt?”

“That’s what we were told.”

“By who?”

“That’s the second reason why I came to find you. Have you ever felt…scared? No, terrified? With your heart pounding fast and your hands shaking and sweating suddenly without any exertion?”

Her eyes briefly rolled skyward in reflection. “No, I can’t say that I have.”

“Twice I’ve encountered them, the Kohler triplets, and both times I’ve felt that way.”

“Your reaction was physical?” she asked, curiously.

“Yes, sick and distracting but most definitely physical.”

“No,” she said slowly, observing me with curiosity. “I’ve never felt that way and I’ve never known anyone, messengers included, to feel that way around strangers.”

Another scream rang out and the messenger who had entered the jungle moments earlier fled skyward, shooting from the trees as if they were coming after her. Her upset more likely came from the flames engulfing her appendages. She pumped them ferociously, hard enough to pass the boundary of this painful dual world I had created for training and be healed.

She took her time returning to us, floating slowly and methodically, without any urge to reach us sooner. When she did, even though her charred feathers were white once again, she sent a cold glare at Daniel and Jacob before joining Stoyan at the edge of the clearing.

“All right,” Hermina said, turning back to me, “how are the Kohler triplets connected with Anna’s death?”

“They were there, watching it take place.”

Despite all that she had seen in her existence that information caused her to gasp.

“And what do you know about the Kohlers?” she asked, rigidly.

“Their names.” I cringed, feeling feeble in admitting it. “Not much.”

The next messenger screamed then, almost immediately after entering the course, and emerged limping. Slowly, he made his way to Anna and Stoyan and the others who had attempted the course before I’d arrived. They were a growing number now as the line of those remaining was beginning to dwindle.

“Horace…,” Hermina mumbled. “Do you know if he has taken the other messengers’ lives?”

“No, it’s probable, but not definite.”

She reflected on this a bit before offering with unmistakable sincerity, “Is there anything I can do?”

“No, but thank you for asking.”

She smiled warmly. “You aren’t alone in this, Magdalene. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course,” I said. What I didn’t tell her was that I preferred to be alone. I had a feeling that my interaction with the Kohlers was a significant discovery and that it had brought me that much closer to danger, the kind I didn’t want Hermina or anyone else involved in.

Another messenger bolted from the jungle, this one with blood trailing down his arm. The next messenger in line stared hesitantly at the entrance to the course until Jacob prompted, “Show us what you can do, Darya.”

She gave him an uncertain look but moved forward slowly until she too was consumed by the shadows.

Hermina sighed before admitting, “Despite our training, I am thankful for my guardian.” Knowing how I felt about them, she looked my way and caught sight of my upturned lip. “You might feel the same someday.”

“Don’t bet Alban on it. The one I have now is ruining any hope for it.”

“The one…?” she said and twisted toward me. “So Eran has finally assigned one to you?”

“No, he
is
the one.”

She tipped her head in astonishment. Taking our history into account, she asked, “And how is that working out?”

“I’m not acknowledging him as one.”

“As your guardian?” she asked, intrigued.

I shook my head. “Just as I forewarned I would…”

She chuckled under her breath. “And what if you
do
need his help, Magdalene? What will you do then?”

“Deny it,” I said reflexively. “It’s almost my turn.”

I could see Darya scurrying back through the trees in our direction.

“This course is designed to see if we are ready to confront a Fallen One?” I asked.

“That’s right…,” she said warily.

“And you think I might need Eran’s help some day?” I said, already stepping forward. “Let’s test that theory…”

Before Hermina could reply I lunged into a sprint, passing Darya at the entrance. Dread was evident in her expression and her wings were coated in ice. As she exited into the light, I entered the shadows, seeing and feeling the darkness close around me.

My feet slurping through the mud and my breath were the only sounds, as if the dense humidity of the jungle blanketed all other noise. The scent of rotting wood filled my nostrils, with not even the remnants of smoke lingered behind where others had been burnt.

The inclination to use my appendages, as the others had done, was strong. Being my greatest defense, I understood the desire. But I had watched the other messengers who had gone in before me and had noted their injuries. The majority exited with wounds to their wings so I kept them tucked inside, using my arms and legs to get me over fallen branches and across water puddles.

I was less than a hundred yards in and wondering when I might see my first opponent when, from my right, came a small splash of water, nearly undetectable in size. It raced through the air horizontal to the ground, catching my eye just as it passed the tree trunk closest to me. I spun around it, knowing that if my appendages were out they would have certainly been hit, and the water hit the tree to my left. On contact, it froze in place, becoming a glistening glob of translucent silver.

I ducked below a fallen log only to be met on the other side by a ball of flames. It came directly for me as I was in the motion of standing, and it would have hit me if I’d been any slower to react. Impulse would have had someone twisting away from it, toward safety, so I could easily see how others had been left burnt. My instinct said the opposite. I dropped to the ground, my hands and face sliding through the carpet of mud and dead leaves. As the ball collided with the log, it exploded over my head and singed bark showered me.

I scurried to stand and found branches, the shape and angle of arrows, raining down on me. There were too many to dodge. Far too many. My heart began racing then. Until this point, I’d felt ready, prepared for whatever might come. This was too much. I couldn’t take on every one of them. Instead, I sensed a tree beside me and spun to use it as cover, again thankful that my appendages hadn’t been released. Shrinking to a narrow column, tucking my arms in front of me, I narrowly missed being pummeled. One sliced through my right forearm and another penetrated the tree but was stopped before its tip could cut any farther into my back. The rest landed with thuds in the wood I’d used to protect myself.

Silence followed. The eerie calm of the jungle began again without a breeze or a bird call.

I darted back onto the path and kept on toward the end.