Aegyir Rises (Guardians of The Realm Book 1)

by Amanda Fleet

  Aegyir had been ripping Finn’s vitality out when I cut his arm off. Did that matter? Or was it only a matter of time before the portion that had gone back into Finn was taken by Aegyir? That was what happened with the flu victims. They died. Their vitality ebbed out of them and into Aegyir. If Aegyir had ripped Finn’s spirit out of him and would have all of his vitality, what would happen to his character? The book said it would be lost to Chaos. What did that mean? I couldn’t bear the thought of losing Finn, and despite having no belief in reincarnation, I certainly couldn’t think about his wonderful, caring, funny, loving character being lost to some hinterland of nothing. If I could disperse Aegyir, perhaps a friendly Guide could collect Finn’s vitality and reunite it with his character. If I dispersed Aegyir before he’d taken all of Finn’s vitality, would Finn survive?

  Except I wasn’t a Guardian.

  When Finn’s watch beeped in the morning, he groaned and rolled over. I reached across him to silence the alarm, and took his watch off his wrist.

  He was a weird grey colour but nonetheless, he tried to sit up.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” I asked.

  “I have to get up. Work.”

  I snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re in no shape to go to work. I’m calling Billy.”

  “I’m fine,” he said, swinging his legs out of bed. A moment later his legs had buckled and he was in a heap on the floor.

  “I’m calling Billy,” I said firmly and this time he didn’t argue.

  “I need the bathroom,” he muttered, scowling.

  I slung his arm over my shoulder and helped him across the landing. “Can you manage in there on your own? Don’t lock the door.”

  “Mm,” he said irritably.

  I sat on the landing until I heard the loo flush and water run in the sink.

  “Rea?”

  I pushed the door open. Finn gripped the edge of the sink, swaying slightly. I helped him back to bed and tucked him in again.

  “Coffee? Breakfast?” I asked, pulling on a jumper and retrieving the hot water bottle from the bed, ready to replenish it.

  “Mm.”

  He lay flat, his skin pale and pinched, hollows forming in his cheeks. I picked up his phone and called Billy.

  “Hi, Finn.” Billy sounded surprised.

  “Hi, Billy. No, it’s Rea but I’m on Finn’s phone. Um, Finn’s really ill. I think it’s flu. He can barely get out of bed and he looks absolutely dreadful. I’m sorry but he’s not going to make it in today. Hang on, he wants to speak to you.”

  I passed the phone to Finn who croaked apologetically into it. He said he’d be in the following day but I knew he wouldn’t. The call over, he passed the phone back to me. I brushed his hair back and kissed his forehead.

  “I’ll be fine,” he said. “I just need a couple of days. Get some strength back.”

  “Well, to get your strength back, you need to eat,” I said briskly. I had to keep busy.

  I fetched him a coffee and some breakfast which he forced down, his colour brightening a fraction. The only other thing he wanted was his panacea – soluble paracetamol and double vitamin C.

  As he put the empty glass on the chest of drawers at the side of the bed, he met my eye. “What did you see?”

  I knew exactly what he meant, but feigned ignorance, buying myself time. Did I tell him?

  “You could see that Guide thing take a ball of light out of the guy who was hit by a car, just before he died. What did you see with me and Aegyir?”

  I bit my lip so hard it almost bled, not trusting my voice.

  “Rea? Just tell me.”

  “Are you sure?”

  For an ill man he could still muster a filthy look.

  “Okay. I saw Aegyir start to take a ball of light out of your chest. When I cut through Aegyir’s arm, the light split. Some of it went into Aegyir; some of it went back into you.”

  Finn said nothing for a moment. Finally, he rubbed his hand through his hair. “So, he’s got some of my energy, which is why I feel so shit. But he didn’t get all of my energy, which is why I’m not dead?”

  What could I say?

  “That’s about the size of it. You should rest.”

  “Get my strength back?”

  I couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not. “Please, Finn. Just rest.”

  He shifted back under the covers and I pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  I tiptoed back downstairs with no idea what to do. Should I call Alison? But say what? That her son was dying, it was all my fault and she should probably get over to see him before it was too late?

  I needed him to be okay. Which meant I needed to hope that I was a Guardian.

  ***

  I parked the bike up at the kerb next to Rick’s place and pulled my helmet off. Rick lived in the right-hand ground-floor flat in a block of four. I stared at the windows for a moment. Was I really about to do this?

  Yes.

  Did a demon actually need to have a place to stay? If Aegyir wasn’t using Rick’s flat as well as his image, wouldn’t Rick’s neighbours wonder where he was? Probably not. He could be an antisocial bugger at times and as far as I knew, he wasn’t friendly with anyone in the other flats in the block.

  I swallowed. Part of me still clung to the hope that Rick was alive somewhere since no body had been found, but I knew the likelihood was slim to vanishing. The only reason Rick’s body was still missing would be because Aegyir hadn’t killed him at the quarry but somewhere else, and hidden the body so that he could continue to mimic it without causing confusion and suspicion.

  I tugged at my jacket and hauled in a deep breath, trying to settle myself, then marched up to the communal door that led to a smart vestibule and access to the flats. Rick’s door was to the right, just after all the post-boxes. My heart in my mouth, I banged on the door and cocked an ear, straining to hear if there were any sounds from within.

  Nothing.

  The vestibule had a sharp tang of detergent and the tiled floor looked recently mopped. I waited, letting my eyes travel over the off-white walls and up the concrete stairs leading to the flats above. I banged on the door again, harder, the sounds echoing slightly in the hallway.

  Still nothing.

  I wondered if any of Rick’s neighbours were in and when they might last have seen him. I crossed the hallway and rapped on his neighbour’s door.

  Also nothing.

  No huge surprise, as the flats were most likely to be owned or rented by people who were out at work. They weren’t the most expensive apartments in the town, but they were far from cheap. I knocked again, then gave up. It had been a long shot.

  Sighing deeply, I shoved the door to the street open and walked back to the bike, pulling my helmet back on. If I hadn’t been keen on coming to Rick’s, I was even less keen on my next destination.

  Ten minutes later, I turned the engine off and sat on the bike, staring at the neat front garden. I’d vowed I would never come back here. Even seeing the front door made my heart rate soar and my skin prickle. It took me a good few minutes to settle myself enough but, eventually, I tugged my helmet off and swung off the bike. My hand hesitated on the wrought-iron gate, my legs wobbly at even the thought of being here.

  “Come on,” I chided myself. “You faced a demon and survived. You can do this.”

  I breathed steadily, trying to calm myself, then gathered my courage and pushed the gate open. In four shaky strides, I was at the front door. I pressed the doorbell, adjusting my grip on the strap of my helmet. Worst-case scenario, I could swing it at his head and break his nose. Return the favour.

  Stephen answered the door, and I forced myself not to step back. I smiled internally at the split lip and black eyes he sported. His brows arched as he saw me and he clamped a hand on either side of the door-frame, barring my way. No need. I would never set foot across this threshold.

  “Cuckoo!” His eyes gl
ittered. I didn’t like the look of his pupils.

  “Where’s Aegyir?” I said, adjusting my grip on my helmet, my hands clammy.

  “Who?” Stephen’s piggy little eyes narrowed further, but he was a crap actor.

  “Your lord and master. The one in your head, controlling you.”

  “No one controls me, Cuckoo.”

  I recalled the way Aegyir had done just that, with the merest flick of a wrist. “Really. Well, perhaps he can see and hear all this from inside your tiny little mind.” I leaned in and glared into Stephen’s blacked eyes. “Aegyir, you piece of shit, I need to see you.”

  Stephen laughed lightly as I stepped back. “Once Aegyir’s regains his strength, you’ll be sorry.”

  “Thought you didn’t know who he was,” I mocked.

  I walked backwards until I was out of reach, then turned and marched back to the bike.

  Partway home, my phone vibrated in my pocket and as soon as I’d put the bike away, I checked it. It was a summary of the news headlines and I had to steady myself with one hand on the side of the shed.

  Five more bodies had been found near the disused end of the quarry, none with any obvious cause of death.

  ***

  I tiptoed back into the bedroom. Finn was sleeping fitfully and I sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed his hair back, trying not to cry. He was a dreadful colour again and felt cool to the touch.

  Despite my best intentions, I managed to disturb him.

  “Hey,” he said sleepily. “Where’d you go?”

  “To find Aegyir.”

  His eyes widened and I rushed to reassure him.

  “I didn’t find him. I found Stephen though.” A wry smile tweaked my lips. “I made a bit of a mess of his face yesterday.”

  A brief smile crossed Finn’s face but vanished almost instantly. “Why did you go to find Aegyir?”

  I sighed, nibbling at my lower lip. “To find out how to help you.”

  He struggled to a sitting position and his fingers plucked at the covers. “I will get better, won’t I? I’m not gonna stay this weak forever, am I? I can rebuild the strength he took. I mean, he’s got some of it, but I can make more, right?”

  I didn’t know what to say so I nodded.

  He glanced across at the book on the side of the bed, next to me. “Anything in that? Does it say how long it takes to recover?”

  My heart splintered. “It doesn’t say.”

  He rallied slightly over the afternoon, sitting up and chatting a bit more, giving us both a bit of hope. We reminisced about old days, recalling incidents from school like him accidentally setting his hair alight in chemistry one day, leaning over a Bunsen burner as he lit it. He’d been left with a strip missing out of his spiked up fringe. He reminded me of the time I’d been shut in the art cupboard by someone a lot bigger than me, but I’d had my revenge by drawing caricatures of him and posting them around the school.

  “Do you remember how we met?” I tucked myself closer to him, knotting our legs.

  “Of course I do.”

  It was a bittersweet memory. I was fourteen and had moved to the school after Helen and John had married. I knew no one, was gangly and rebellious and felt like it would always be me against the rest of the world. A group of boys had seen me as an easy target when I joined the school. I suppose I was at that point. I was skinny and unhappy and felt like no one was on my side, not even my adopted mother. Three boys had cornered me in a quiet part of the grounds and were harassing me. Nothing more than pushing and shoving, but there were three of them and one of me and I couldn’t get away. Finn, already sick of seeing his mother getting knocked around at home and never one to hang back, had weighed in with fists flailing. He’d been my friend ever since, though it took us a while to get around to dating, only getting together when I was sixteen and Finn was almost eighteen and had left home. Within a year I’d practically moved in with him, spending more nights at the cottage than I did at home. After Stephen had almost beaten me to death, I stopped pretending I lived at home – Finn had collected everything I had from Helen and we’d been in the cottage together ever since.

  Mid-afternoon, Finn called Alison. “Hey Mum. How are you?”

  “I’m fine. You sound terrible! Is everything okay?”

  “Oh, I’ve got flu and I don’t think I’m gonna be able to meet you tomorrow.”

  “That doesn’t matter! You concentrate on getting well.”

  “I’ll be fine! I’m just washed out and I reckon I’ll be struggling to get to work, never mind manage to catch up. I’m really sorry. Things are okay though?”

  Code for, “Has Dad hit you?” I watched Finn’s face as he listened to the answer. He seemed reassured. He promised he’d catch up with her soon and rang off. The call seemed to have taken it out of him and his colour had faded back to off-grey.

  “Get some rest,” I said. “I’ll wake you when it’s dinnertime.”

  He scooted down the bed and I drew the covers up to his chin. He was asleep by the time I brought a fresh hot water bottle back up and I secreted it next to his chest and kissed his brow.

  While Finn slept, I pulled on my coat and boots and marched up to the rock face. My stomach lurched as I reached the place where Aegyir had attacked Finn, but I didn’t have either the time or the energy for regrets. I strode over to the place where I’d heard the whispers and faced the craggy rocks, my hands planted on my hips.

  “Get your fucking arses out here! Aegyir is loose. He’s killing people. Do your fucking jobs and come and help!”

  Silence.

  “Get out here!” I bellowed. “I need some fucking Guardians out here!”

  “You are a Guardian, Aeron. Aegyir is your problem, not ours.”

  I screamed in frustration, my voice impotently bouncing off the rock face. Spent, I sagged backwards, balling my fists.

  Okay. If they wouldn’t help me, I’d just have to kill the fucker on my own.

  21

  I took one look at Finn in the morning and called an ambulance. He was ashen and I could barely rouse him. When I did finally manage to wake him he was mumbling incoherently.

  The paramedics didn’t like the look of him much either, bundling him on to a stretcher and into the back of the ambulance fairly soon after arriving. I followed them on the bike without bothering to change into leathers, praying not to come off. The roads were at least drying after the downpour the night before.

  At the hospital, I sat in the grey waiting room of Accident and Emergency while he was assessed in a room somewhere. Around me were people in various states of distress – a woman with a deep gash on her forehead, the blood seeping into a wad of dressing that she pressed to it; a man who hobbled painfully to and from the water-dispenser; a sobering drunk, spattered with vomit; several people looking miserable. I sat on a hard, plastic chair, my eyes glued to the doors through to the assessment area, my nose nipping from the smell of disinfectant. In front of me was a low table with a scattering of dog-eared magazines, striped with the light coming through the blinds. Despite the signs saying no mobiles, I called Alison and told her that Finn had taken a turn for the worse and was in hospital. She said she’d be there that afternoon and I promised I’d call her with an update as soon as I was allowed to see him.

  He’d been transferred to the high dependency unit by the time one of the nurses came out to speak to me. She reassured me that it was merely a precaution and that they were sure it was only flu and he would be fine. I nodded rapidly and asked if I could see him.

  “Of course you can. He needs to rest, but he’s in a room on his own and you can sit with him if you want.”

  “Why is he in a room on his own?”

  “Because he has flu and we don’t want all the other patients getting it,” she said, smiling. I must have looked panicked.

  When I reached his room, I caught a sob in my throat. Finn was hooked up to a heap of monitors and there were wires and tubes everywhere. The nurse explained them g
ently but I didn’t take any of it in. He was asleep, so I went back to the hallway and called his mum again to update her. She said she’d be there as soon as she could.

  I tiptoed back into Finn’s room, hoping that the nurse was right about me being allowed to stay with him. A couple of nurses came and went, measuring things on him and filling in the chart at the end of his bed and I stayed in the corner, out of their way. A doctor arrived, read the chart, looked at Finn, reassured me that he would probably be fine and asked me if I had any questions. I should have asked her about all the wires and tubes, but all I thought to ask was whether I could stay with him.

  About an hour later, Finn stirred, his dark lashes fluttering. I moved my chair close to the bed and held his hand. He peered at me. “Rea? Where the hell am I?”

  “Hospital. You looked pretty rubbish this morning so I called an ambulance and they brought you in. Your mum said she’d come and visit this afternoon. How are you feeling?”

  “Horrible.” He licked his lips, frowning. His gaze travelled around the bed, pausing on each of the tubes and wires. “Am I dying?” His voice trembled and his blue eyes were wide. His breathing rate rose, but each breath was snatched and shallow. I forced my tears down and stroked my thumb over his knuckles.

  “The doctor was a bit unhappy about your blood pressure. They think you might have been dehydrated, despite my best efforts.” His lips were cracked and I rummaged in my pocket for a lip balm. “Here.” I rubbed it over his lips. “Better?”

  “Mm. Thanks. You said Mum’s coming?”

  “Yeah. I called her when you were brought in.”

  “Thanks… Sorry, I’m shattered.”

  “Shh. Go back to sleep.”

  “Will you stay?”

  “Of course. Go back to sleep. I’ll be right here.”