Guardian of Honor (46 page)

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Authors: Robin D. Owens

BOOK: Guardian of Honor
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She couldn't restrain herself, she did a little jig. Giggled. A
big, pink butterfly streamed over the wall and danced in the air. Sinafin.

The bluebird sings songs good for
dancing,
Sinafin said.

Alexa threw out her arms and laughed, spun. The image of Sophie
dancing like this from pure pleasure rose in her mind. Alexa hadn't understood
then, hadn't felt the same. Now she did. What had Sophie done after that?

She'd run. Alexa eyed the garden. Not much room to run here, and
dancing alone paled. But it might be fun to dart through the greenery of the
hedge maze. That could be a challenge. She glanced up at Sinafin, who looked to
be delicately sipping brithenwood blossoms. Probably pure magic, brithenwood
blossom nectar. It smelled like it should be.

"Want to race?" asked Alexa.

Sinafin mentally slurped the last from a blossom, then waved an
antenna.
Not in this body. This body does not go fast. You might kick the
little dog accidentally. I will be my warhawk. Give you a real challenge,
she
said slyly.

"Fine, but in the maze, not over it."

Alexa had no intention of losing. By the time she had passed
through the door, and shut it behind her, Sinafin was settling into her feathers
atop the wall.

"Ready?" asked Alexa.

Ready,
said Sinafin.
Go!

Alexa took off, entered the maze, skidded left into a passage and
dodged through the first several turns—and straight into the web.

It was huge, bigger than she was. This time it wrapped her face,
her arms, tangled her, took her down and started sucking the magic from her. It
hurt
—a ripping, tearing pain.

Finally she figured it out. This horror was the web at the inn,
the thing that had shadowed her, draining magic and leaving heaps of dust behind.

Sharing its mind, she saw its birth from the frinks. She saw her
death.

She'd burned it before. With her baton. But her mind grayed as air
and magic left her. She couldn't reach her baton. Not with her hands tight at
her sides. She didn't know if she had the magic to set the baton afire in its
sheath, knew she had no control to keep herself from burning, but a fiery death
would be cleansing after this hideous thing slipping oily fingers on her,
caressing her as it suctioned her magic away, bloating, gloating.

Its mind battered hers, hissing.
So sweet your essence. So pale
you look. I, black, you, white and still. I love sucking you dry, so sweet. I
was sent especially for you, to suck your sweetness. You have not succeeded in
restoring the posts. Soon we amass an army and invade, you will miss the
battle, the invasion and I will find...

Burn!
Alexa flung all her strength into the word. A small spark lit near
the bottom of the baton sheath. Not enough. She was dying. She was failing. She
wouldn't allow that. No need to save any of her strength.

Burn!

The last thing she sensed was a tiny spark inching around the
sheath bottom.

Bastien!
The cry knocked him back from the
volaran he curried. The image that followed, Alexa down, under a sticky black
substance that slowly formed into a man lying atop her, shocked him.

Come now, Bastien, Shield her! It's the monster that's been
stalking her!
Sinafin screamed, and the warhawk's screech hit his ears at the
same time. He dropped the comb, ran shouting his war cry at the
top of his lungs, flung all the protective Power he had at
the evil thing and had it slide off the monster. The thing raised its head,
turned it, and red eyes burned. Fangs dripped sparkling drops of Power. Alexa's
Power.

Bastien ran faster than he ever had. He yelled anger to the skies,
at the Marshalls' refusal to act earlier, saying it was a minor monster, a town
monster. No threat.

Fury ignited wild magic inside him. He zoomed to the maze,
twisted, turned, bolted through it. Seeing Alexa from Sinafin's eyes. His woman
lived, but was unconscious. He whirled around a corner, bumping into the hedge.
There it was.

The thing ripped Alexa's clothes down the front of her body.
Lifted itself like a man about to rape a woman.

Sinafin dove at it, slid away from a shield surrounding it. Her
claws grew and grew, far larger and sharper than a hawk's. A roc's claws.

Bastien's baton was hot in his hand. Spell words tore from his
throat, silver energy hit the thing. It shivered a little, raised a hand.

Sinafin caught the hand, snagged all the fingers with her claws,
backed upward, flapping hard, stretching the monster's substance into weblike
thinness.

The evil hissed, but Sinafin began to grow, changing, enlarging. A
roc. The largest bird in two worlds.

He was on it now, slicing at it with hot-silver Power, cutting
bits of it off—an ear, a foot, two. They fell into dirt. The monster went
shapeless, filmed over Alexa's still, still body. He gathered Power in his
baton, lightning power that would sizzle over her. Wild magic Power he'd only
used once before, had never seen anyone else attempt.

Shouts and sounds of running came from the opening of the maze.
His lip curled. The Marshalls, late as ever.

He raised his baton. The roc rose above the maze, angled to
the tower wall, still holding the thing. Sinafin's mind
touched Bastien's. She was draining the energy the monster had harvested from
Alexa. Sinafin wanted it all, to hold the magic, cleanse it so they could
return it to Alexa. The feycoocu was desperate to keep Alexa alive.

No more desperate than he.

Bastien crouched in the maze near his Pairling. In an agony of
impatience, he listened to Sinafin's instructions. More waiting...until the
feycoocu had the last drop of juice from the horror. Then fry it. She'd tell Bastien
the right moment.

The wild Power pulsed in him; he packed it into his wand. Holding
back was the hardest thing he'd ever done. Alexa looked
too quiet, too white, too fragile. The Song between them
was thready. He sent energy into it, strengthening their tie, strengthening her
life.

Whoosh!
A lick of flame caught the thin edge of the thing. It shrieked,
shriveled, contracted into a ball, tore from the roc's claws, pelleted away.

Bastien jumped to Alexa, lifted her into his arms. Her heart beat
slowly, sluggishly. He hummed a healing spell, simple and powerful.

The Marshalls rushed to them. He stopped them with his gaze.
"Don't come near me.
Don't...come...near...us,
you useless sacks of
merde. I'll kill the one who touches her. Did you see what sort of monster had
her?"

"A tournpench," Faith murmured, bowing her head.
"The Lorebook said it was minor."

"That's right, a horror that drained her Power, was about to
rape her. The horror you said was minor would have killed our precious
Exotique! The horror you all agreed was the
Town's
problem."

"We were wrong," Thealia croaked.

He sneered. "You have often been wrong. Now you know your
Lorebook can be wrong too."

They bunched near the hedges. Partis pushed through, his carved
healing staff in his hand.

Bastien bared his teeth. "There is nothing you can say,
nothing you can sing that will make me allow you to put a fingertip on
her."

Sinafin set claws into Bastien's shoulder. He stiffened with pain,
felt his blood pool under her.

Now,
she said.
We will send back her Power, her magic. It will be
the stronger for coming from me, flowing through you. It will contain some of
my feycoocu magic, some of your wild Power. It will be good for her. Let me do
this. Let me use you. You two are the future of the world.

He braced himself, his eyes mere slits.
Do it.

Magic gushed through him. Fast, huge, unstoppable. It swirled
through every pocket of his body, every kink of his nerves, every twist of his
mind, then poured into Alexa. A little sparkle of the pure magic of the
feycoocu lingered in his bones, and always would.

His hair lifted; he felt the silver streaks heat as if they
glowed. His skin tingled. He felt
great.
He moved away from the hedge
wall. Alexa trembled in his arms. Her eyes opened, lambent green; a touch of
Sinafin's sparkle was in them too. Her lips turned the color of a blushing
rose.

She wriggled, and he reluctantly set her on her feet. She blinked,
looked around the passageway.

"What happened?"

Sinafin sent them all quick images of events. The Marshalls
shuddered backward in a lump. When Alexa "saw" the attempted rape,
she flinched, swayed. Bastien caught her around the waist. Her lips whitened.

"So the fire worked," she murmured. "But even if it
hadn't, my
friend and my Pair mate would have saved me. Did save
me by slowing the creature." Tremors ran through her. "I want a bath.
Now. A bath."

Hysteria lurked under her surface.

"Of course," he said. He stared at the Marshalls.
"We are going to the private bathing pool off the regular baths. We don't
want company. We may never want your company again." He swept her up into
his arms once more and strode away to the baths.

There he loved her, slowly and tenderly, and afterwards he held
her near and tried not to think how close he'd come to losing her, and how that
loss would have shattered him.

24

A
fter they had bathed and loved, Alexa dozed in Bastien's arms.
What a miserable two days! That horrible pterodactyl, Bastien's Testing, which
had disturbed her dreams, the Song Quest, then the attack this morning.

Being crushed and smothered by the pterodactyl was bad enough,
being smothered and drained of magic by that sticky-black-hideous monster was
infinitely worse. With mordant humor, she wondered if it was her fate to be
smothered. Probably better than dying fighting. Maybe. Well, if so, she'd wish
it would be accidental, in bed, with a feather pillow when she was a tiny, old
woman.

She breathed deeply, filling her lungs, just to know she could. It
felt good.

Bastien snored softly next to her on a cushioned pallet in the
private bathing room. She craned to see his face. It was peaceful, yet he
looked stronger, more mature. Was it from his becoming
a Marshall and choosing a baton? Or his first use of Power
as a Marshall, saving her? She didn't think any infusion of magic from Sinafin
would make him look more adult. Alexa opened her senses, seeking the feycoocu.
Sinafin rested on a pillow on Alexa's bed in her muff form.

Alexa smiled. It was good to have friends. She quested for the
Marshalls and found them still meeting in their Council Chamber. She should be
there, and so should Bastien, but it wasn't as if she could contribute
anything. She'd enjoyed getting to know the Marshalls, learning their quirks.
Soon they would be fast friends, like family. Irritating at times, but beloved
anyway. Her family. Her home. She'd made a place for herself here.

They were probably dissecting the attack on her instant by
instant. Sinafin had seen and recorded it; they wouldn't need any input from
her. They had probably learned from the Lorebook by now that it was sentient.
Alexa shuddered, remembering the caressing fingers, the hissing voice—

She jerked up, stumbled to her feet, glanced wildly around for her
clothes. When she found them, she pounced, and dragged them on.

Bastien groaned. Opened one eye. "What?"

"The thing. The webmonster. It
told
me something. The
monsters are invading!"

"The horrors are always invading." He patted the pillows
beside him, smiled seductively. "Come back."

Alexa flung back her wet hair. "They invade in little
bunches, the small evils and creepers first, then the larger monsters. We've
been able to ward them off. In general."

Bastien sat up. "In general."

"The thing said something about amassing an army. What could
we do against an army of the things?"

He opened his mouth. Shut it. Got up. "We don't have enough
Chevaliers, enough Marshalls, enough
magic
to stop a
concerted effort." He got up and dressed rapidly too.

"How many do you think we could handle?"

"No more than five hundred, and with that we could lose most
of our fighters. Makes sense to field an army now, before you've reset the
boundaries. Even if you find the answer to renewing the fenceposts, by then
we'll have monsters throughout Lladrana."

Bastien held out a hand to her. "The Marshalls are still in
session."

They ran all the way. When they reached the Council Room door,
Alexa smiled as she read the script on the door: Lladrana Marshalls. Lovemaking
with Bastien sure put her into a great mood. Even in her own head, she was
babbling. She had to get a grip, had to present a case to the Marshalls.

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