Warrior of the Ages (Warriors of the Ages) (23 page)

“IT’S LIKE CAMPING. Surely you’ve been camping before?”

Honor Monroe was definitely both sweet and clueless. Beth wondered what about her pegged her for a camping kind of girl. Honor plopped a third big Adirondack chair next to the hammock, combined with a small wooden table, he seemed to think she now had all the comforts of home.

“What about when it rains?”

Honor stared off in the distance while he considered that.

“Well, surely you could sleep on the porch those nights? Maybe try not to look in the windows?”

A shiver rippled up her spine at the thought of what was inside that house, a chamber of horrors. The place made her remember a horrible movie with a disgusting dungeon scene, and a woman…Beth blinked and forced it from her mind. She never even remembered seeing such a movie.

“Can’t you just put me in jail?”

Honor dropped into one of the sturdy chairs, grabbed her hand and yanked her into his lap. It was briefly startling. Then she sensed his intention from the touch of his heart on hers, as innocent as happy laughter. Beth relaxed against him, resting her head on his shoulder, and closing her eyes. The heart thing kept people honest. She really liked it.

“It’s like this, Bethy, we don’t have jails.”

The memory of what Honor had wanted to do to Berwick instead of arrest him made her eyes pop open.

“You have no jails because you take no prisoners. That’s not very reassuring.”

Honor wrapped both his arms around her and squeezed, kissing her cheek, and holding her there.

“Everyone usually follows the rules, not because they’re being forced to, but because they want to. So we don’t need jails.”

The memory of the woman in the dungeon slipped back into her mind and she shook her head, trying to knock it out.

“So I’m your first prisoner?”

Honor squeezed her tighter and laughed.

“You are! Congratulations, the very first.”

In Beth’s mind’s eye she saw the woman in the dungeon again. She was being dragged by a rope tied around her wrists, it hurt her. It hurt her so much Beth could feel it. It took effort to push it away, it made her mad.

“Being a prisoner’s not funny, Honor! And why do I have to be here? Can’t you put me someplace with indoor plumbing?”

“Well here’s the thing. Our clan lives inside an Arc.”

They were all insane, every single one of them.

Honor started to laugh, so hard and long that the laughter jounced into Beth’s own body like she was laughing, it felt good. It made the thoughts of that old dungeon movie evaporate.

“The Arc’s not a boat, Beth! That’s what you were thinking I could see it on your face! You crack me up! Covenant Keepers live in clans, clans live inside Arcs—at least we have since the flood. Yes, by flood I mean biblical flood. ilu showed us how to build them, they are sanctuaries. I’m not going to describe them, because someday when you go inside it, I want you to be surprised. You can trust me on this though you won’t want to come out. The thing is, only my clan can go inside it, but maybe someday you’ll—join—the clan….”

Every word Honor spoke she could sense truth in, not only did she sense it, but she almost remembered Arcs herself. Clean skies, and clear water, and fresh air, like old dreams—good ones—images darted through her head. Honor’s blue eyes were close to hers as he studied her expression. He dipped his head closer and kissed her right on the lips.

“I love you, Beth.”

It was absolutely sweet and perfect and he meant it, but she didn’t even try to stop what tumbled from her lips.

“I love you too, but I don’t want to.”

He looked hurt. “Why?”

Beth couldn’t help it, she knew her face crumpled like a distraught child’s, her throat tightened and tears started to spill.

“Because I want to go home.”

Honor wrapped her in his arms tighter, pulling her close against his chest, he whispered, “I’m sorry, Beth. I’m so, so sorry.”

BY THAT AFTERNOON, Beth knew she’d never seen a movie like the one she kept remembering. She’d never have watched something so cruel, so evil. Honor tried to get her to go sit on the shady porch and eat lunch and she refused, drooping by the edge of the pond, she waved him away. When he went to lunch without her, she wished he hadn’t, because other dark memories that didn’t belong to her started to haunt her.

Beth knew she was a big baby to curl up at the side of the pond and cry, but she could feel these dark stories racing through her mind: A mother stood on the edge of a cliff, clutching a baby in her arms, a toddler held onto her skirts screaming as a band of men approached on horseback. The woman threw the baby off the cliff, took the toddler’s hand and jumped to their deaths on the rocks below. Beth felt the woman’s agony. It ripped through her own heart. She saw the helpless baby drop and her throat ached with pain, and horror churned in her heart.

Maybe it’s my hormones, from the stress
.

Trying to logic her way out of it didn’t help much, because she sensed that every thought from crazy to hormones wasn’t true. Curled up and crying by the pond she tried to force the shadowy daydreams away, tried to focus on other thoughts, boring things like all the inventory at the shop that was going to go to waste.

She didn’t hear Honor come back until he cried, “Sweet El! Shades! Ah, Bethy, Sweet Bethy! They’re just shades. Come here.” He sat beside her in the grass and pulled her from the fetal position, straightening her hair and wiping tears off her face.

“Surely you’ve had shades before, Beth? Dark memories that aren’t yours? Bad dreams?”

Beth felt foolish because she couldn’t stop shaking. She’d had bad dreams when she was little, but Dad always helped her with them. He used to tell her, ‘Change the channel, Bethy, just change the channel.’ Shades? From somewhere deep inside her that word was as familiar as Arc or Covenant Keeper.

“When we die, a Covenant Keeper I mean, we leave our pain behind. It stays here on earth, where it was created. Those of us still living can sense that pain, especially when we’re upset, tired, or sick. We all endure shades, Beth. They suck.”

If she wasn’t so worn down she would have laughed at that understatement. It helped though, just knowing what they were. Wolves squished his stinky head between their bodies as Honor continued to hug her, practically decapitating the dog who didn’t even try to pull away. The dog’s phenomenally gross breath blew against her face, making her eyes water, but Beth scratched his neck. He quivered with joy, pressing against her. The dog helped, but she needed to get away from here, away from shades, Arcs and Covenant Keepers. She needed to be free.

THE BLACK SUV was the exact make and model, right down to the tire tread, as the one that Berwick had brought to Beth’s shop. Kahtar stood outside an ocean of corrugated metal and cinderblock sheds on the outskirts of the town of Euclid, and scanned into the storage facility, his mind digging deep. This facility covered three acres. Whatever Berwick kept here might be in any one of the many bays jammed with miscellaneous items. Scanning hard and deep, Kahtar searched for signs of Berwick’s genetic markers. An Old Guard grabbed hold of his arm in broad daylight and they flitted so quickly into one of the larger bays, that Kahtar was barely aware of the change in venue.

Metal barrels were stacked in the dim space, and the smell of death greeted them.

“Seekers.” An Old Guard supplied, his flickering light revealed three dead bodies slumped together on the floor.

Kahtar and the Old Guard stepped towards the dead men at the same time. Kahtar’s gifting of gestalt instantly took in the scene as he moved forward a step. The men appeared to be melting into the floor. Water from recent rains had dampened the concrete floor near the closed garage door. Kahtar didn’t even have time to register danger as his foot stepped onto damp concrete.

WELCOME PALMER, AT just twenty-six years old, was considered accomplished even among his own clan. A gifted healer, the young doctor had spent years in medical school, living among Seekers while earning his official degree. The clan had not been supportive when the young healer had left to attend medical school. Yet time and again Welcome’s skills had proved invaluable, and today Kahtar had good reason to be thankful for the doctor’s stubborn independence.

Sitting on the edge of a comfortable bed in just his drawers, Kahtar’s police uniform lay neatly cut to pieces beside him. Welcome’s handsome face hovered just inches from Kahtar’s big leg as he wiped a clear liquid over horrible white splotches on Kahtar’s feet and shins.