“Sweet Vis! How did you get through my shield?” Sterling fell over in surprise and scrambled backward toward Cym and away from the intruder.
Fires raging in the distance framed the outline of an enormous man. With the flames behind him, it was hard to make out his face, but his size alone intimidated the shit out of Cym. How were they supposed to fight this new guy off?
Hester’s only reaction to the newcomer was to draw her legs further into herself.
“Dreamwalker.” The man poked himself in the chest as if it were an explanation.
It must have meant something to Sterling because his face went from shocked to hopeful. “The Guard is here?”
The Guard? Despite what he’d told Fourteen about them, Cym hadn’t been entirely convinced the Guard was anything more than the dreams and wishful thinking of children. He’d never seen any evidence of them before now and was instantly pissed off. If they were real, where the hell had they been while Cym was running for his life? His chin came up stubbornly.
The man nodded and said, “Some guardians are here but not enough for this shitstorm. I’m here to rescue you lot—heroically and quickly—so I can get back to where I’m needed. So follow me and don’t lag behind.” When nobody moved to obey him, he sighed. “I do have the right group, yes? Missing heir-who-doesn’t-exist and guests?”
Cym’s teeth ground together hard enough to hurt, and he snapped out, “Yes, that’s us, but we aren’t all here.” He pointed to the hole behind him. “One of us is down there, and we aren’t leaving without him.” Mythical hero or not, Cym wasn’t taking orders from this guy.
“Of course you aren’t. And there’s no reason you should,” The man muttered. “Okay, let’s have a look.”
He sauntered over to where Cym stood, acting for all the world as if a battle wasn’t raging all around him. An exploding flash against Sterling’s shield illuminated the man’s face showcasing impossible rainbow colored eyes.
Time slowed, and Cym had the sensation of falling into their depths. As he continued to fall, he swore he could see stars. Dizzy, he averted his gaze.
After he was free, he realized he couldn’t have described the experience properly if his life depended on it. It also occurred to him that the man seemed as unaffected by Cym’s aberration as Fourteen.
The guardian craned his neck, and Cym saw his brother’s shield ripple as the man’s head passed though the edge of it and peered down into the hole. “Ah, there he is. I see your soldier boy, kid. He’s down about ten meters or so. He’s moving, but it looks like someone really rang his bell.”
After looking into the man’s eyes, Cym didn’t question how he could see so well in the dark. Instead Cym asked, “Can you get to him?” He found his anger toward the Guard receding. If this guy got Fourteen back, all would be forgiven.
“I’ll see what I can do. My friend will be here soon—be nice to her. She bites. The name’s Jack, by the way.” Then he stepped over the edge of the hole and disappeared.
Cym blinked, bemused, but before he managed to form any words a woman dropped down beside him.
“Gods, you people have to stop doing that!” Sterling grabbed his chest. “I’m too young for a heart attack.”
“Nice to meet you too, I’m Adelle.” The woman said wryly. Her honey-gold hair draped elegantly over one shoulder, looking pristine. With her dark, form fitting clothes, she looked like she belonged on a runway rather than a warzone. “I suppose you’ve met Jack.”
“He’s down there helping my Fourt—ahem, my friend.” Cym pointed, beginning to feel a bit like the host of the hole.
“Fair enough.” Adelle walked over to Sterling and crouched down. “This is a nice shield you have going, but you don’t look so hot. How long have you been holding it?” She put a hand on his forehead.
For the first time, Cym noticed the sweat glittering on Sterling’s face and saw that his hands were shaking.
“Not too long. I’ll be fine,” Sterling said, obviously trying to sound tough.
Adelle patted his head. “Moron. Here, this should help.” She closed her eyes, and Cym saw the world around the woman and Sterling shimmer with a faint orange glow. When she opened her eyes again, she gave Sterling an appraising stare. “Well, that explains how you got the power to hold the shield in the first place. In any case, that should let you hold it for a bit longer. As for you”—in a smooth, fluid motion, Adelle shifted and settled in front of Hester—“you are a nasty little piece of work. You and I are going to have a talk later. That I can promise you.”
Hester said nothing and stared into the distance, haughtily.
Sterling put a hand to his chest and looked down at it, then back at Adelle, gaping in wonder. “T-thank you.”
Adelle stood with enviable grace, glided over to Cym, and crouched back down, looking him over in the scant light. “You must be the one everyone’s been looking for. You’ve caused quite a stir, haven’t you?”
Under the woman’s penetrating gaze, Cym felt like more than his appearance was being examined. After his experience looking into Jack’s eyes, Cym was nervous, but when nothing extraordinary happened, he relaxed. “Um… they started it?”
“Cymbeline!” Sterling hissed reprovingly. “She’s a guardian, be respectful!” He had stopped sweating but still looked entirely unnerved.
The woman let out a low, rich laugh. “Your brother is right, I am a guardian, but”—her lovely eyes narrowed—“that doesn’t mean much to you, does it?”
The woman was perceptive, Cym would give her that. She was also as unaffected by Cym as her partner Jack was. Curious. “Should it?”
“In a family like yours, you should have been taught everything about the Guard by now. For that crime alone your family would need to answer to us. This is a bad time to begin your education, sweetheart.” Adelle tilted her head up to look at the ledge above where a large chunk of the Blaike family had gathered and was doing their best to knock out Sterling’s shield. She frowned thoughtfully before saying, “Most of your family is protected from being put to sleep. I could do each one individually, but they would overtake us long before I finished. A distraction would be better, I think. You can escape while they’re occupied.”
Cym was getting tired of enigmatic people showing up and assuming they could tell him what to do. He drew himself to his feet, pulling as much dignity and confidence around himself as he could. “Listen, I appreciate your help, but—” he had been going to say, I’m not going anywhere without Fourteen, but his injured leg gave out, dropping him to the cold ground in a pathetic heap. He was certain people on the other side of the compound could hear his disgruntled sigh as he lay there, face down in the dirt.
Adelle held up a hand to keep Sterling from running to Cym. “You save your magic to power the shield. I’ll fix your brother.” Adelle leaned forward to help Cym roll over, but when Adelle’s fingers grazed Cym’s bare hand, she sucked in a breath and snatched her hand away in reflex. “You are full of surprises for someone so small.”
Cym looked at the woman’s face, expecting to see fear or anger there and was surprised when he only saw wonder. “Why doesn’t it anger you to be so close to me?”
Perfectly manicured eyebrows drew together. “I suppose it would present as anger in people who don’t understand what you are. Especially in a family like yours.” Adelle’s words were tinged with sorrow. “The crimes they have committed against you are unforgivable, little one. We will fix this, I promise you.”
Rather than explaining herself, Adelle gently placed her hand on Cym’s chest and closed her eyes.
It didn’t feel like someone had a hand on his chest. Instead it felt as though Adelle's hand had sunk through his skin and reached right in to Cym’s soul. He felt the pinkness inside of him rise to meet the orange of Adelle’s magic.
:Watch. You might need to do this sooner than either of us might wish.: The words formed warmly in Cym’s mind. Neither surprising nor invasive, it felt perfectly natural to have Adelle speak to him in such a way.
Instantly, he was aware of three large, dark spots in the pink and saw the orange weave tendrils through his essence until it met them. Cym watched as Adelle’s magic wrapped around his own, and like a mother guiding the hands of a toddler, the orange guided the pink, sinking into the dark places and encouraging them to heal. He felt power flow from Adelle to himself as they healed his wounds, but rather than their combined magic diminishing, their power swelled until Cym felt as though he were about to burst.
Adelle opened her eyes and smiled. “That was lovely. Thank you, Cymbeline. I feel better than I did when I got here.”
