The Guardian (Chronicles of Dover's Amalgam Book 1) (25 page)

Gyula nudged his horse forward into the portal.

“He’s taking his
horse,
” Gabriel said. He shook his arm so his sleeve returned into place. He yanked the binoculars from Minh’s hands.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Minh said. He unwillingly released his hold on the glasses. “Your horse has too many bowel issues. Traveling time would never be the same.”

Jareth shushed them with a scolding look. Just then, Gyula looked up to where they were hidden and touched his forehead in mock salute.

“That bastard,” Minh said, and stood. He yanked back the branches, so he could be seen plainly from below. “Bastard,” he yelled.

Gyula smiled and tilted his head slightly before he guided his horse into the circle of light.

“We should have shot him,” Gabriel said. He rose to his feet. They were all aware of that, but the circle closed so quickly there had been no time. Gabriel looked at Minh. “I should have let you fire that arrow.”

Minh smiled. His mouth opened to speak, but Jareth put his hand up.

“Patience,” he advised. He leapt to his feet, repositioning the sword at his side all in one fluid movement. “He wants us to know he has the stones.” He looked to where Gyula disappeared. “But I wonder why the drama? Why did he go to this much trouble to meet us here? Now?”

“Jareth,” Minh said. “Why didn’t you tell us he’s a Hun? I can’t help but feel if we had known this, we would have more to work with. We have men in the future who see to stuff like this.”

“Because I was not sure of it,” Jareth said. “He has similar attributes, but his genes are mixed with Scottish, perhaps Viking.” He put his hands on his hips and let his shoulders droop. “Also, I do not want to tamper with time.” He motioned to Gabriel. “You have said that things are becoming jumbled. The more we access time and jump it, the greater the divide between our thoughts and memories.”

“I’ve got it,” Gabriel said. He snapped his fingers twice. “Someone’s trying to murder you. The battle with the Huns, remember? They were sent to terminate you.”

“Quick thinking, Sparta,” Minh said sarcastically. He reached for a cigarette in his cloak and looked up at Jareth. “Why was it you who retrieved him again? I can’t seem to remember.” He rolled the filter of the cigarette on his tongue before he stuck it in his mouth and lit it. All the while he wore an expression of deep thought. “Oh,” he said with no surprise. “He used to be a lethal warrior.” He looked at Gabriel. “Key words:
used to be
.” He turned back to Jareth, smoke curling from his nostrils. “So, this is why things are getting hazy? Gyula’s screwing with us?”

“That’s what I said,” Gabriel growled. “They’re trackers—they’ll never stop. It’s what they’re bred to do.”

“We will split up in Dover,” Jareth said. “I will handle it from here. I cannot and will not take a chance with your lives.”

“You’re dismissing us?” Gabriel asked.

“What about the duchess?” Minh asked. He tossed his unfinished cigarette aside. “We can take her back with us until we find the breach. She can stay with Gabriel and Liang.”

“Absolutely not,” Jareth said, his voice booming. “Elizabet stays with me—always. I know how to protect what is mine.”

Minh and Gabriel exchanged glances.

“Of course,
Magister
,” Minh said, using the Latin word for teacher as Jeremy would when addressing Jareth. “If that is what you will. But consider the consequences. They will be looking for any weaknesses.”

“And obviously,” Gabriel said. “Elizabet has become a weakness.”

“Even if she’s your
only
weakness . . .” Minh added. He jumped to his feet in a smooth jolt. “ . . . You must consider that you are married now and things have changed.” He looked at Gabriel. “I tease Gabriel, but I know it is the love of my sister that has humanized him.”

“All right,” Jareth said. “Help me get Elizabet to Dover alive, and then we part. Whatever the future holds must be done fairly. I fear we are tampering with time too often. We are taking for granted that we can fix things. Whatever we do not like, we change. It has to stop.”

“And what if that means death?” Minh asked with a growl. “There are people who count on you. Alive. Forget Elizabet. There are host that will not survive unless you train them. Not to mention, the future of the medieval church hinges on your existence. You are the harbinger for the English translation, you fool. Think.”

“It’s not just training host,” Gabriel put in. “It’s seeing them gain their humanity first so they can be taught anything. Otherwise, they’ll destroy the world with a cocky smile on their juvenile faces all because they had a hormone rush.”

“They’re a bunch of kids with no guidance,” Minh added.

Jareth brought his hands up to silence them. “Just because we can command time, does not give us the right to change the natural course of things. True, someone is attempting to thwart the formation of the Amalgam, but we must let it happen. In our selective silence, we will bring them out.” Gabriel and Minh passed a skeptical look between them. “Let us fetch Elizabet,” Jareth said, his voice pensive. “She must be impatient by now and wondering where we are. We have left her too long, I fear. I do not want to cause her worry.” He regarded both of them. “Say nothing of what we have witnessed. I will not have my wife believing she has anything to fear. Beware the words you choose. We keep what has passed here between us.”

Chapter 13

ELIZABET HAD NEVER
seen the castle from the outside. The night she was sneaked into it had been dark and foggy, and she had been terrified and unsure of the caliber of people she was in the company of.

As they approached the hill where the castle sat, she had time to take it in and enjoy the view. Its outer walls were squared and plain, and the way it was seated on the hilltop was not beautiful like a fairy tale castle, but majestic and formidable. Breathtaking. She could not fathom that she had recently been held in the dwelling for more than a month.

“The abbey,” Jareth announced as they passed the small stone building on the outskirts of the property. He pointed to a dark thatch of greenery near the abbey. “That is one entrance to the underground.”

“Tunnels?” she asked. “I thought they were built in the Second World War?”

“You have studied my home,” Jareth said in a pleased tone. “They were made use of after years of lying dormant. We use them for secretive purposes. I have most of the tunnels locked, but I will show them all to you.”

“I feel special.”

He smiled. “You are. I have not shown anyone but necessary staff. They are forbidden.”

“What do you have down there?”

“It is a surprise.”

They were together, but separate. Atop the tall horse with their bodies pressed close, yet miles apart. Jareth had been broodingly quiet and detached earlier, but with the first sight of the castle, he became talkative.

Elizabet turned her face into his chest as the wind kicked up. Jareth shifted his hold on the reigns to adjust his hold on her. It was inevitable that she would mess things up given the time and chance. It was her way—what she did. She could hardly help it.

“What can I expect here?” she asked. His gaze was fixed ahead, watching the approaching towering castle. “Does anyone know I’m coming? That you’re married?”

He nodded, his eyes still gazing at his home, his expression whimsical, forlorn. “Mrs. Wheatley is aware. You will be received cordially.”

“What does that mean?” She inhaled deeply against his cloak. He smelled of horse and Jareth. She could smell the sea, as well. It was that singular scent that invoked memories of her time here. “Cordially?”

“You will find that history is distorted here. It is time you see Dover Castle as it truly is. I have improvised my home and it shows. I make allowances for curiosity. I do not make frivolous leaps, but I do enjoy the idea of what progression brings to the world. So, when I say cordially, I mean that you will be properly received as a bride of a duke.”

“Can I insert a ‘wow’ right here?” she asked with a smile. “It’s like living a fairy tale.”

“This fairy tale has teeth. Do not become overly comfortable.” He jerked his chin toward Minh, who was looking over his shoulder as they passed the abbey. “This is far enough. Tie the horses here and I will send for someone to tend them.”

Gabriel circled his horse around and sided up with Jareth. “This is it, then?” Jareth nodded, his expression stoic and unreadable. Gabriel’s shoulders slumped as he guided the horse to a stop. “I will investigate Gyula. I’m sure you know something in the future. I’ll put Gideon on the count of the stones. Maybe he can figure out where the breach occurs.”

“Be sure he understands that the count exceeds the tangible number,” Jareth directed, then he looked at Minh. “See that Jeremy is tested for possible disturbances. He swallowed a good bit of the English waters when he dissipated. It is different than gulf water. Be sure he is able to transform safely. I cannot have him weak, considering we have an enemy jumping time. We may need him again.”

Minh nodded. “What is your plan?”

“Just so we know where we are on the grand scheme of the chess board,” Gabriel added.

“I need to secure my bride,” Jareth said. “My intuition tells me that Catherine will not let this go, especially now that I have executed her father. There can be no doubt that my marriage is legitimate.” Minh smiled, and glanced at Gabriel. Jareth’s tone changed and his voice lowered in warning. “I will return to the future in the time that I claim Jeremy. Shortly after the storm.”

“Once you’ve secured your marriage,” Gabriel said with a grin.

Jareth scowled. “Are we done?”

“We are,” Minh said.

“Good,” Jareth said. He spurred his horse forward and passed between them. “Under no circumstances are you to return. Do you understand?”

“Yes, your majesty,” Minh said, and bowed even though he was saddled.

Jareth glanced back at Gabriel. Likewise, he bowed. “Of course, your grace. We’ll not fail you.”

Elizabet craned her head as Minh and Gabriel dismounted and tied their horses to the abbey gate. They were bickering with one another, but they worked in harmony.

“What do you mean?” she asked as she kept one eye on Gabriel. He threw a time band in the air and the portal opened—it never got old seeing that happen. She could not look away until they were gone into thin air. “We’re married. Can’t get more secure than that.”

Jareth’s thighs gripped the horse beneath them as he steered up the steep incline to the castle gate. He glanced at her upturned face—just a flicker and then away. “There is the issue of consummation.”

She said nothing, but slowly rolled her chin to her chest. Her face was hot and she knew it was red, which made it worse. Try as she might to not think of being embarrassed, her cheeks felt as though they were on fire.

A low rumble came from Jareth’s chest, which had her peeking at him. He was laughing—not loudly—barely audibly, really—and lazily watching her through his long, sooty black lashes. And then, one of those blue eyes winked.

THE PEOPLE AT
Dover castle were lovely, Elizabet decided. She also decided that she would not think about what Jareth said or she would panic. He was currently listening to his squire, who was speaking in rapid French, and giving an account of things that had occurred in Jareth’s absence.

Jareth should have warned her that he had taken modern to a whole different level. She expected the English to be passable. And she had made provision for things like plumbing and (prayerfully considering) drainage systems. But an infirmary in the tunnels and solar panels on the east wing? There was even an underground hospital of sizable magnitude.

Jareth bit down on the syringe cap, removed it with his teeth, and thrust the needle into Elizabet’s arm. After a tour of the infirmary, he gave her a hefty dose of antibiotics. Then he inoculated her with the smallpox vaccine.

She was beginning to see how the Amalgam seeped into every part of his life, and how it would hers as well, now that they were meshed. She only hoped she would not be a disappointment to Jareth. Surely, that would come. Everything she beheld was way out of her league. She had her own secrets, but they paled in comparison to Jareth’s. His were grand and had life purposes—hers were just messy and complicated.

“Why didn’t you tell him you knew my mother?” Elizabet asked Mrs. Wheatley. Jareth had deposited her quite unceremoniously with the maid, then left her in his chamber and went take of business he said could not wait.

“It is not my story to tell.” Mrs. Wheatley smiled at her reflection in the mirror and continued to brush Elizabet’s hair in long strokes. Her weathered face was familiar and brought calm to Elizabet’s chaos. There was a hollow pit in the bottom of Elizabet’s gut. She was doubtful that things would end well; circumstances were barreling out of control. “That is your story, and I trust that you have revealed it in your own time.”

Elizabet nodded. It caused the brush to graze her scalp. “I told him when he came back—after I took care of him and he had me sent away. Where did you go? You never came back.”

“What could I have done?” Mrs. Wheatley asked. “His grace can be boorish when time is tampered with.” Her voice became gruff as she mimicked Jareth. “Things must unfold at a natural pace.” She smiled sheepishly and turned a pointed expression on Elizabet. “Besides, you needed the time and space to learn each other. I knew he would make the right decision. I have known you were what he needed since the first time I met you.”

“But I was only a child. I was what? Like five?”

“Even then, you were loyal and faithful.” Mrs. Wheatley stopped brushing, and gazed at Elizabet through the mirror’s reflection. “Look at what a beautiful woman you have become. I was right to choose you.” Pride passed over the elder’s features and her eyes filled to the brim with tears, but did not spill over. “Your mother would be so happy.”

Tears gathered in Elizabet’s eyes as well at the mention of her mother. She reached up and covered Mrs. Wheatley’s hand that rested on her shoulder. “Don’t make me cry. Jareth will think I’m afraid.” She lifted her wobbling lips in a smile.