WarriorsApprentice (23 page)

Tybor leaned back in his seat and said with detached calm,
“Where are we?”

Judie looked up at a road sign flashing by. “We’re about to
cross into France. We take the next exit to Calais, then once we get to the
Chunnel we get on the train to Dover. The crossing takes about an hour.” She
glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “Can Huon last that long without another
stop?”

Tybor swiveled around to look at Huon. “He’s still asleep
and breathing normally. Better to keep going and get him home as soon as I
can.” Then he turned back, folded his arms and said, “Wake me when we get to
the train.”

Judie glanced across at him. His eyes were shut but his jaw
was clenched so tightly that Judie knew he couldn’t be sleeping. He remained
silent and still and she sighed, turning her attention back to the road. Their
conversation had clearly ended.

The silence continued until they joined the queue of cars
waiting to board the cross-Channel train. Judie pushed open the door and stood
up, stretching her tired, aching muscles. Tybor sat up, unfolded his arms and
watched her through narrowed eyes until the queue ahead of her began to move
and she got back in, following the directions of the loading crew.

Once the car was in place with other vehicles in front of and
behind them, Tybor offered to go and get her some food, coffee, anything she
needed, but her brain was fogged with fatigue and the thought of eating
nauseated her. She shook her head, checked on Huon, asleep again on the
backseat, then tilted her seat, dropped her head back against the rest and
closed her eyes.

* * * * *

She ran through twisting city streets, chased by
policemen wielding bolts of lightning. She tried to run faster but her legs
were heavy, refusing to obey her commands, each step a marathon of endurance.
In the distance, she saw Huon and Tybor, hands held fast. She called out to
them but they turned their backs and walked away. She shouted for them to wait
but they began to run, then disappeared in a blinding flash so bright that it
jolted her upright, her eyes wide open in panic.

* * * * *

She gasped, then focused on Tybor, who leaned in through the
open door, letting the overhead light shine in her eyes. “We’re ready to
unload.”

He slid back inside and she started the engine. They rolled
off the loading ramp and motored slowly away. They were not singled out for
inspection—no one seemed interested in their nondescript little vehicle. Judie
grinned to herself. That bland, uninteresting car contained an arsenal that
would make any anti-terrorist squad snap to attention.

By the time they reached the outskirts of Amesbury, the
eastern sky had lightened to a pale-gray and lemon. The little car reached
Stonehenge and Judie drew to a halt in the deserted car park.

“It’s smaller than I thought it would be,” Tybor said.

Judie too had expected something bigger, more imposing. Tybor
pushed open the car door and motioned for her to stay where she was. He took a
few paces away from the car and turned 360 degrees then reached in to once more
lift Huon’s unconscious form. As tired as she was, Judie had no intention of
being left out of anything now. She scrambled out and walked over to the two
men.

“You should have stayed in the car,” Tybor snapped.

“Why?” she replied, looking across the flat, open landscape.
“Unless the police or other Gatekeepers parachuted in and are hiding behind one
of the standing stones, there’s no one here but us.” She rubbed her arms,
warding off the early-morning chill.

“I don’t need you anymore,” Tybor said, dropping to his
knees to lay Huon on the ground.

His words, colder than the icy morning air, sent shivers
skittering up and down her spine, spreading out in sharp, stabbing spikes. Her
knees trembled and she locked them, uncertain of their support.

“Then this is it?” she whispered. “I’m just supposed to go
back to the car, drive away and forget I ever met you?”

“Yes,” Tybor replied.

“No,” a weak voice whispered, barely more than a breath but
enough to draw both Tybor’s and Judie’s attention. “It can’t end like this,”
Huon continued, pushing himself up on his elbows. “I won’t let it. I want to
stay here.”

“Huon!” Judie dropped to her knees beside him, examining his
face, feeling the tension leave her shoulders as she noticed Huon’s gray,
pallid flesh begin to plump up and resume its beautiful, glowing ivory color.

“He’s going to be all right, isn’t he?” she said to Tybor.

Tybor knelt on Huon’s other side. He cupped his hands around
Huon’s jaw, his lean fingers reaching up and stroking the smooth skin covering
Huon’s carved cheekbones. His eyes locked on the younger man’s and Judie knew
that for the moment, for Tybor, the rest of the world did not exist. Then he
reached out one hand and covered hers.

“Huon has regained enough strength to survive the
transition, but until his power is restored the reprieve is temporary. We have
to go.” His hand gripped hers tightly. “Walk away, Judie. A clean break is
better.”

“Better for who?” she cried.

“For all of us.” Tybor spoke through clenched teeth. “For a
little while we were able to be together but, like the effect of Stonehenge on
Huon’s health, it was temporary. We are Dvalinn. You are human. Your way is not
ours and can never be.” He wrapped his arms around Huon and looked at her once
more. “Goodbye, Judie. Live well.”

The air shimmered around him and Judie heard Huon’s voice
shouting, “No!”

Then there was nothing but silence and the looming pillars
of the ancient stones and a vast, aching emptiness.

Pain kept Judie slumped there, head down, forehead on her
knees, tears streaming from her eyes. They had to come back. Huon wouldn’t
leave her like this. Tybor had to see he was wrong. So she waited.

At last she heard a voice behind her. She tensed, but as
whoever it was grew nearer she heard not the two men she loved but a loud,
female, Australian-accented voice.

“Oh. Will you look at that? It must be one of those Druid
people worshipping the solstice or something.”

Judie dragged herself to her feet.

“Sorry to disturb your devotions, Ma’am,” the voice
continued.

Judie didn’t turn or respond, just walked away, circling the
monument until she could return to the car. She started the engine, then stared
into space. She didn’t know where to go or what to do. She didn’t have a job,
didn’t know if the police were after her…and she didn’t care.

The engine revved as her foot weighed on the accelerator.
The first thing she needed to do was return the car to its owner. He’d been
generous with her and did not deserve to be inconvenienced.

Sleep would normally have been an option, but she couldn’t
bear the thought of lying down in a bed empty of anyone but her. She wasn’t
sure she would ever be able to stand it again. When exhaustion forced her off
the road, she would snatch a few minutes’ rest in the car. Then she would move
on. Perhaps that was the only way to survive. Keep moving, always moving, to
stay ahead of the pain.

Chapter Seven

At a roadside café, Judie bought a strong black coffee, sat
down at a table with her phone and Googled Brian Hopewood’s name again. Still
no news reports of his death, the destruction of his office or anything else.
She didn’t understand why, but Brian had always been secretive about his work
and perhaps he had someone else working for him who had been able to hush the
whole thing up permanently. A second search showed no new entries for her name
either. That should have relieved her tension but she found she didn’t care.

Back in the car, she tossed her computer case into the
backseat and drove until her eyes were gritty, then she pulled into a rest area
and slept. Every big rig that thundered past, or sound of a police siren
wailing, caused her to stir and turn in her seat and eventually, feeling little
more refreshed than when she’d stopped, she forced herself to continue her
journey.

The pattern repeated itself over and over again as she
covered the distance back to where she had last believed happiness was
possible. At Klagenfurt, she parked the car and stumbled out, having to grab
the door pillar to stop herself from falling.

When she rapped on the door of the apartment to return the
keys, the car’s owner gasped. “What happened? You look terrible.” He stiffened.
“Is my car all right?”

“Yeah, Johann, it’s fine,” she muttered. “Thanks for the
loan.”

“You want to come inside?” he asked. “Freshen up a bit?”

“No, thanks. I’ll just be going.” Judie turned, but Johann
reached out a hand to stop her.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but you can’t go outside
looking like that.” He swallowed, then rushed on, “Or smelling like that. You
come inside and have a shower while I make you something to eat.”

“Thanks. Once again I’m in your debt,” she said and stepped
over the threshold. The mirror in the hallway reflected an image so horrible
she wouldn’t have blamed Johann if he’d slammed the door in her face. Her hair
stood on end in dry, knotted tufts, her pale, haggard skin and the bags and
dark circles under her eyes made her look like a wannabe zombie. Her pungent,
unwashed odor, obvious now it had been pointed out to her, was reminiscent of
the undead too.

The shower and a comb took care of the surface problems, but
nothing could touch the core of cold within her. Johann offered to let her stay
with him and rest but she shook her head.

“Where are you off to now?” he asked.

Without conscious volition, she opened her mouth. “Back to
Venice,” she said.

Once the words had been uttered, they crystallized into
conviction. Everything had started in Venice. Without knowing why, she felt she
had to return there to try to make sense of it, to try to regain her sense of
self.

“I have a train to catch.”

Johann said something but she didn’t listen, already halfway
down the stairs before she heard the door slam shut behind her.

There was barely time to purchase a ticket before the train
pulled into the station. She climbed on board and settled back in her seat. The
rhythmic hum of the engine and the gentle vibration over the tracks acted on
her sleep-deprived brain like a narcotic and she fell into slumber. Erotic
images of herself, Tybor and Huon, naked, entangled, entwined and linked,
flickered through her mind. Yet when she tried to focus on one, to see Huon’s
beautiful face or Tybor’s powerful body, the pictures blurred and changed and
the figures became monstrous, no longer rocking in pleasure but writhing in
pain, amorous groans turned to tortured screams as a blue arc of electricity
seared and sizzled. Smoke obscured her vision and the smell of charred flesh
made her stomach heave. She snapped awake to find the compartment full, her
eyes flashing from one stranger to another, registering their open-mouthed
stares and uncomfortable shifting on their seats.

For the rest of the journey she sat bolt upright and tried
to ignore the frowns and puzzled looks her fellow passengers gave her as they
left the compartment.

She stepped down onto the platform in Venice and sighed.
What had she expected to find here? How could anything make any difference to
the chasm her future had become?

She went first to the building that held Hopewood’s offices
and her apartment. The door was shut and the windows facing the street looked
blank and bare. Surely at least one of those windows had shattered during the
conflict, but every pane of glass was intact and the façade looked pristine.
From her bag she dragged out the keys, carried throughout the long trip because
it had simply never occurred to her to discard them. The familiar serrated
shape slid smoothly into the lock and she twisted her wrist.

Nothing happened. The key remained firm and unmoving. She
pulled it out and pushed it back to try again, with the same result. The
tumblers had been changed. From inside the building she heard the electronic
squeal of an alarm and with the sound, her brain began to do its job, telling
her what she should have known all along. Only an idiot would return to the
scene of the crime. She turned and ran.

Her conscious mind concerned itself only with putting one
foot in front of the other, avoiding pedestrians and listening desperately for
sounds of pursuit.

Her subconscious mind had another agenda. When she finally
stopped, her lungs heaving, head slumped against an ancient wall, she realized
that she stood outside the apartment Tybor and Huon had left—had it been only
days ago? She squeezed her eyes shut, tried to remember the pattern of events.
Tybor had gone upstairs, grabbed some clothes, and they’d rushed to the train
station. Had he taken time to lock the door? She knew for certain he hadn’t
filled out any departure forms.

She drew a deep draft of oxygen into her aching lungs. If
Tybor hadn’t given up the apartment, if he hadn’t taken the time to lock the
door, maybe, just maybe there was a chance she could hide there, regroup,
decide what to do.

The outside door opened at her push. Thankful for the lack
of security in these old buildings, she tiptoed up the stairs and sidled along
the wall until she reached the door. One hand stretched out to the handle and
she turned it gently.

Then she twisted it harder, shook it and thrust her shoulder
against the wood. The truth faced her as solid and immovable as the door in
front of her. A soldier like Tybor, trained to be cool under any provocation,
used to emergency situations, didn’t get flustered in a simple fight-or-flight
situation. Locking the door behind him would be an instinctive reaction.

In spite of the futility of the gesture, she beat her fists
against the paneling until they ached, then, palms splayed against the wood in
a gesture of defeat, she slid to the floor, sobbing out her pain, fear and
loss.

She curled up into a fetal ball, unable to stop the tears,
unable to stand, and at last consciousness slowly and blessedly slipped away.

This time the dream seemed clearer, the feel of hands
lifting her and holding her so real she thought her heart would break with the
knowledge that when she woke she would have to face their absence all over
again. For now she willed herself to remain asleep, to rejoice in the strong
arms holding her, one hand reaching out to open the door, carrying her to a
soft bed, the weight of a firm body settling beside her.

“Sssh,” Huon’s beloved voice whispered in her ear. “Don’t
cry, Judie. It will be all right.”

“How can it ever be all right?” she whimpered, reality
intruding even here, in this soft dream.

“Because I will make it that way,” Huon said. “Wake up,
Judie. Look at me.”

Although she fought against it, desperate to cling to the
last remnants of illusion, her eyes opened. And widened. Then she blinked. The
dream didn’t fade. Huon lay beside her, his blue eyes staring into hers. The
hand she held out to touch his pale cheek shook, but still she felt the smooth
warmth of his skin under her palm.

“You came back,” she breathed, new tears of joy and relief
pouring down her cheeks. She lifted her gaze, looking over Huon’s shoulder.
“Where’s Tybor?”

“He isn’t here.” The sadness underlying Huon’s words
penetrated Judie’s dazed senses.

“Has something happened to him? He’s not…” Her heart pounded
and the air froze in her lungs, stealing away her voice.

“He’s alive,” Huon said, taking her hand from his cheek and
holding it. He swallowed and dropped his gaze. “He won’t come here.” Huon’s
face reddened. “He won’t come anywhere near me. Not ever again.”

“That can’t be true,” Judie cried. “He saved your life. He
risked everything to come here to help you.”

“And I drove him away.”

“You love him.” Judie looked into Huon’s eyes, saw the pain
there. “Why would you drive him away?”

“I didn’t mean to,” Huon said with a snort of self-disgust.
“Just the opposite. I…” He broke off and stared resolutely at the wall across
from Judie, blinking rapidly, his throat working.

“Tell me what happened,” Judie said.

“I… You know Tybor took me back home. We transported right
into headquarters and instantly medics surrounded me and a troop of armed
guards marched Tybor out.” Huon sighed. “You know he had come to the surface
without permission?”

“Yes,” Judie offered tentatively. “You told me that.”

“I didn’t know if they were arresting him or debriefing
him,” Huon explained. “I tried to get up, tried to follow, but I hadn’t
regained my strength, then someone hit me with a needle and I passed out.”

“Tybor wouldn’t hold that against you,” she protested. “He’d
know you couldn’t help it. He’ll want to see you again.”

“You haven’t heard it all yet,” Huon said. “When they’d
restored my powers and made sure I was okay, I went to Tybor’s quarters to find
him. When no one answered, I marched straight into the captain’s office,
demanding to know what they’d done with him. I told them that the only reason
the mission had succeeded and we’d been able to destroy the Gatekeepers’
headquarters was because Tybor had come to help me and that if they punished
him for that, for going AWOL, they were insane.”

“Did they listen?” she asked. “Surely they wouldn’t charge him
for that—although here on the surface the military are pretty insistent on
following orders and not keen on independent thinking.”

“The Dvalinn are more flexible, I think, especially with
someone with a reputation like Tybor’s,” Huon replied. “In any case, the
captain told me they hadn’t arrested Tybor. When I demanded to know where he
was, the captain told me he’d requested a meeting with senior officers and
would, he assumed, be returning to his quarters afterwards.”

“Did he? Return to his quarters I mean.”

Huon nodded.

“And did you find him there?”

Again, Huon dipped his head, a single, convulsive jerk.

“Huon,” she murmured, holding his hand tighter, “what
happened then?”

He didn’t speak.

“Please, Huon. Tell me. Whatever it was is upsetting you so
much.”

When he still didn’t speak she said, more firmly, “I care
about you and I care about Tybor, too. Don’t you think I deserve to understand
this?”

“I told him…I told him I had learned something important on
the surface world. Learned something important from you.” Now he met her eyes.
“I told him I had learned to love. That I loved you, and wanted to be with
you.” His lips formed a tight white line and he licked them. “Then I told him I
loved him, too, and that I believed he loved me and that just as we had with
you, I wanted to…to…make love to him, to give a physical expression to what we
already felt.”

The breath caught in her throat, making it hard to breathe.
“What did he say?”

“He turned his back to me and grabbed a bag from his closet
and started throwing things into it. Said he had asked to be assigned to a
Dvalinn city on the other side of the world and that he never wanted to see me
or hear my mawkish,
human
sentiments again.”

“Oh, Huon,” she cried, her heart breaking not only for him
but for herself as well.

“I’m not proud of what happened next,” Huon murmured. “I…I
begged him. I got to my knees like the stupid weakling he always thought I was
and I begged him to give us a chance, to just try it, but he kicked me aside
and walked away.” A tear rolled down the alabaster cheek. “He didn’t say
goodbye. He didn’t look back. He just slammed the door behind him.” He took a
deep breath. “That’s when I realized there was nothing for me there. No reason
to stay. All those years people taunted me and bullied me for not being a true
Dvalinn. They were right. If being a true Dvalinn means having no emotions, or
worse, having them and refusing to admit it, then I’m not one of them. I had my
powers back, so I decided to come and search for you.”

Judie waited and Huon’s lips curved into a tiny, embryonic
smile “I didn’t expect you to be in the very first place I looked.” He stroked
her face with his free hand. “How is it that you’re here?”

“I can’t explain it,” she told him. “I felt compelled to
come back to Venice and I ended up at your apartment.”

“We were meant to be together,” Huon replied.

“But the price you have to pay is so high.” She scrubbed her
hands across her eyes, trying to brush away the tears. “You’re sacrificing
everything—your way of life and being with your own people.”

“What I’m giving up means nothing compared to what I gain,”
Huon whispered. “If being Dvalinn means living without you, then I don’t want
to be Dvalinn.”

He tilted her face up and lowered his lips to hers.

The cold that had sunk through her bones and into her soul
began to dissipate under the warm pressure. Her mouth moved, opened, and his
tongue swept in, bringing her his sweet, familiar taste mixed with the faint
tang of salt. His tears, her tears—she couldn’t tell.