by Wendy Owens
Listening to his echo, he waited for a response. After a moment, he moved on, by the time he reached the third opening he began doubting his approach. Perhaps she was already back at the cabin waiting for him. Gabe carefully climbed the steep hillside that led to the next mining cave. He remembered when he had made this same climb a year ago; this had been where he tucked away all the treasures from his past.
Grabbing ahold of a boulder, Gabe pulled his weight up onto the flat ground outside the open cave. Gabe saw the boards lying off to the side that he had pried loose when he first had discovered the place. They were now weathered and heavily rotted from lying in the dirt. Gabe leaned in, expecting to find nothing just as he had in the last two caves. The light beamed in all around his head, he opened his mouth to shout Rachel’s name, but the word stuck in his throat.
There, before him, on her knees, sat Rachel. She was holding up a crystal looking through it, as if trying to figure out if it were valuable in some way. Startled by Gabe’s shadow, she jumped slightly.
“Oh, Gabe. It’s you,” Rachel said, pressing a hand to her heart. “You scared me.”
The memory of the night Gabe first saw that crystal rushed over him. He had been deep in the depths of Rampart, under the library with Sophie. He could see young Sophie in his mind for an instant, holding up the crystal and revealing its magical properties.
“What are you doing?” Gabe shrieked, unable to move at first.
“Look at all this great stuff I found,” Rachel replied, lifting the bag so he could see the magnificent find.
“You mean stole!” Gabe snapped, rushing in and ripping the bag from her hands.
Rachel dropped the crystal into the dirt, complete and utter shock washing over her. Without hesitation, Gabe scooped up the crystal and shoved it in his pocket.
“I— I— didn’t know. What it—” Rachel stammered, now trembling in Gabe’s presence. Unknowingly, he had allowed his anger to affect the temperature of the cave, causing it to fill with a chill that made their breath visible.
“You’re right, you don’t know anything! You always have to be meddling, don’t you? Woman, do you ever mind your own business?” Gabe snapped, turning his back to Rachel.
Rachel went from being afraid of Gabe to furious in an instant. How dare this guy speak to her that way? He didn’t know her at all.
“You don’t know me!” Rachel screamed, amazed by the way her voice carried in the entrance of the cave.
Gabe turned around wildly and leaned in close to Rachel’s face. “And I don’t want to know you.”
“What is your problem?” Rachel asked, clenching her fists tight.
“You’re my problem. You come to my home, put me in danger, and then you have the nerve to snoop through all of my stuff. You really are quite daft, aren’t you? Hard to imagine one day you will give birth to the prophet,” Gabe’s words spit out like venom.
“Well I can’t seem to figure out why so many people have sacrificed their life to protect you. You clearly don’t care about anyone but yourself,” Rachel replied coolly, releasing her hands, determined not to allow this guy to elicit such a response.
“What are you talking about? Nobody has given their life for me,” Gabe rebutted, confused by her statement.
“Gabe, I’m not stupid, Uri told me. There was Raimie, or how about those Mursers who helped you when you first left Rampart?” Rachel answered with her own question.
“What? What are you talking about? Are you talking about Clarite? I haven’t seen her in years ...” Gabe asked, consumed by confusion.
“I don’t know. All I know is that Uri said he kept tabs on you during those five years, and you left a path of death and destruction behind you,” Rachel insisted.
“You don’t know what the heck you’re talking about!” Gabe shouted. “Go back to the cabin and wait there for Uri, do you understand me?”
“Where are you going?” Rachel demanded.
“Do as your told and don’t worry about me. Don’t leave the valley, stay close to the cabin and wait for Uri,” Gabe said, exiting the cave. Before Rachel could say another word, Gabe waved a hand and disappeared into a cloud of smoke. He gave no thought to the fact that he didn’t have his copper helmet; his thoughts were consumed with figuring out what Rachel was talking about. Clarite and his other friends had been alive and well when he left them. If something happened to them, it was not his fault.
Five years ago when Gabe left Rampart, he had come to a small town called Baynar that was in the Underworld. At the time, he thought he was just looking for a place to lay low, but soon enough he realized there was more to his exit from school. At Rampart he found himself constantly shrouded in secrecy, and now that he had broken away he wanted answers. He was seeking the truth about The Guardians.
Gabe had been inducted into this society of magical protectors, given a home and friends, and people who seemed to care about him. Something he was never given, however, were answers. He was sure Michael had kept countless secrets from him. Once Gabe was on his own, he decided he was going to unravel all the mysteries, one way or another.
Gabe had either been arrogant or naive, he wasn’t even sure himself, but years ago when he fled his home, he hadn’t thought about the fact that he would be hunted. Every demon in the Underworld was after him and he showed up at a pub, in unfamiliar territory, unprotected. He was very fortunate that Balor, the innkeeper who was running the pub, noticed him that night. Had it not been for him, Gabe knew he would most likely be dead.
A Wintok was a creature that could be easily bought. They never fought a war because of a cause; they fought for the highest bidder. When Gabe first came to Baynar, the word was out that Baal was seeking the protector and he would handsomely reward anyone who brought the boy to him. Though Gabe attempted to hide his identity beneath a hooded cloak, it did not fool the Wintok. Baylor suggested the boy leave when he saw the Wintok take notice of him, but it was too late. Though Gabe quietly ducked into the alley, the Wintok was not far behind. Baylor saved Gabe not only that night from the greedy creature, but also introduced him to the sympathizers, Clarite and Kryn.
Kryn, the blacksmith, was probably one of the key figures in keeping Gabe safe, as well. He had created the copper helmet for him that protected Gabe’s thoughts while he slept. It was the helmet that also gave Gabe the idea to search for his current home.
As Gabe remembered the strangers who stepped up to protect him, he thought of the helmet. What had he been thinking leaving the helmet behind? He hadn’t been thinking. Rachel had managed to rile him into such a frenzy that he needed to get out of there as soon as he could. While asleep, the helmet was one of the only ways to block out the demon trackers. Rest would not be an option on this trip. As long as he stayed awake, he should be able to block the demon trackers from entering his thoughts.
Gabe’s thoughts drifted to Rachel. He was still stunned he had caught her rummaging through his belongings. She was a guest in his home, yet she had not shown any respect for his privacy. He was so angry with her, it didn’t matter that Rachel did not know the items she had found belonged to him. He had been the one who yelled at her after the sculpture incident, the one who had caused her to flee his presence. Perhaps all of these instances were just unfortunate coincidences and Rachel meant no harm. None the less, even though these thoughts did occur to Gabe, he was not willing to relinquish his hostility towards the girl.
No, Gabe thought, even if she meant no harm by pilfering my trinkets from Rampart, there is still no excuse for the things she said to me. I’m not selfish and I don’t expect people to sacrifice everything for me. That is part of why I left Rampart in the first place. I will prove her wrong. There is nothing I can do about Raimie dying, but that was not my fault. The manor was attacked after I left, I can’t be responsible for everyone for the rest of my life. I’ll show her, I know the people of Baynar that helped me are still alive. She’s wrong, she has to be.
Walking down the cobbl
estone alleyway, taking in the metamorphosis the small town had gone through in such a short amount of time, Gabe felt uneasy. He grabbed a nearby scarf from a clothes line, quickly wrapping it around his head. He had not been in Baynar for many years and had no idea what to expect. Emerging from the narrow path between the buildings, Gabe winced as his stomach twisted. Stepping out on to the main roadway, Gabe kept his eyes low, avoiding direct contact with anyone he passed. He quickly noticed the streets were full of Wintoks. Though they had a presence in Baynar when he was there last, it was nothing like this. He was the stranger here, the odd creature walking among them, and he could feel the stares. It wouldn’t be long until someone wanted more information about who he was and why he was there.
A moment later Gabe stopped and looked up. It was the entrance to Baylor’s pub. Unlike the rest of the town, not much had changed about the pub, and he took comfort in the idea of seeing an old friend. Slipping through the familiar door, he was eager to finally prove Rachel wrong.
Climbing up on to the oversized bar stool Gabe smiled, remembering the first time he had sat there and how it made him feel like such a child. Wintoks and most other travelers of the Underworld were much larger than humans. An idea that used to make him nervous, but one he had grown accustomed to. He waited, looking forward to seeing the gruff face of his old friend. Much to Gabe’s surprise, a thin and lanky man, bald on top, and a crown of silver hair around his ears approached him, asking what he wanted to drink.
For a moment Gabe said nothing, processing the new face, unsure what to do. “Umm, I’m looking for Baylor, the innkeeper,” Gabe said, trying to keep his voice low.
“Huh, whad’ya say?” the elderly man screeched, leaning what must have been his good ear forward.
“Baylor,” Gabe said louder, glancing around cautiously. “Can you tell me where to find Baylor?”
“Baylor!” the man cackled. “Don’t know no Baylor.”
Gabe felt a panic rush over him. He was certain the entire pub had heard the bartender. Without hesitation or another word, Gabe hopped up from the stool and darted towards the door.
“You don’t want nuttin’ to drink?” the man cried out after him.
Gabe did not respond. He did not even turn to look at the man. He simply slipped from the door he had entered just moments ago, mingling his way into the flow of street traffic. He would ask Kryn, Gabe decided. Kryn would know what happened; he would know where Baylor went.
Cautiously, Gabe made his way to the other end of town. Kryn’s blacksmith shop was at the edge of Baynar. Gabe was confident the oversized, burly man would have answers for him. When he had first met Baylor and Kryn, he assumed they must have been brothers or some other relation. It wasn’t possible for two men to be so large in girth, he had thought, and not be from the same genetics. In fact, they were not related, but they were the closest of friends.
Gabe was glad he was getting close to Kryn’s shop, he was sure the man would be a comforting site. Gabe felt his lunch rise up violently in his stomach at what he saw next. Focusing on keeping his composure, Gabe continued to walk past the old burned out shell that was left of the blacksmith shop. The earth had long since reclaimed the pile of ash and rubble, wild grass and flowers poking up through the destruction.
Crossing the small wooden bridge, just past the rubble, Gabe ducked off to the left and swooped underneath into hiding. Once sure he was secure, and could not be seen by those that passed overhead, Gabe collapsed on to the dirt and grass. Turning on his side, his body convulsed, and relieved itself of any food that had been in his belly. Rachel was right. He was a liability. Anyone who tried to protect him ended up paying a high price. He didn’t know if his old friends were dead, but he was certain whatever fate had found them must have been bad.
Gabe thought of Uri. Maybe that was why he had not yet returned. Maybe Uri was already dead. What was the point? Why stay alive only to be alone? Rachel’s recent company had reminded Gabe of what life had been like when he had friends. He used to laugh. He used to have more of a reason to get up in the morning than to just tend to the garden. Everything in his life now was simple, too simple. It was the basic things he worried about, like having food in the winter. All he thought about was what he would need to survive alone. Winter would come and go. Then next year, still alone, nobody to talk to, nobody to share with, he would do it all again. Why was he running? Why was he hiding? What was the point in surviving when you’re alone? Gabe didn’t have an answer.
“Gabe?” the small voice behind him caused him to jump, his heart skipping a beat.
Gabe spun around to see who had called his name, wiping a bit of vomit from the corner of his mouth as he did so.
“It is you,” the woman said, not moving.
“Clarite?” Gabe asked, unconvinced the frail woman that stood before him used to be the sweet girl that had given him aid not long ago.
She nodded and smiled, so overcome with emotion she was unable to speak further. Gabe rushed up to her, and as he did he recognized little bits of her face. She had changed greatly, but it was still her. With a sigh of relief, Gabe pulled her close to him for a deep embrace. “I thought you were all—” Gabe paused, not willing to give the words life.
“I’m fine. What are you doing here though? If they find you, well, it wouldn’t be good for anyone,” Clarite said softly. Gabe noticed even her demeanor had changed. She had always been boisterous, even the loud and commanding type when needed. Clarite now reminded him of a weak and feeble mouse. She barely moved and when she did it was obvious it took much effort on her part. She seemed to have aged forty years instead of the four he had been gone.
“Please come, sit,” Gabe directed, taking the woman’s arm. Guiding her away from his puke towards the water’s edge, they both took a seat. Gabe just stared at her as they sat. Unable to reconcile that this woman had been the same one he left all those years ago. She was only a few years older than him and Gabe had fancied her when they first met, though she had never returned the interest in the time they spent together.
“What happened here?” Gabe finally asked, referring to the changes he had seen around Baynar.
“My God, you haven’t aged a bit,” Clarite said, ignoring Gabe’s question.
“I don’t think I would exactly agree with you. I’m feeling so tired all the time. It’s exhausting always looking over your shoulder, waiting for someone to find you,” Gabe replied softly with a smile. The woman reached out and touched Gabe’s cheek as if she had to convince herself he was real.
Gabe grasped her hand firmly. “Clarite, you have to tell me what happened.”
Clarite looked away, staring at the water. They sat in silence for a few moments until at last she spoke. “When Baal’s men came, we all thought you would return. The chosen one would come back and slay the demon’s army. Baylor tried to tell them, the town’s people. He told them there was no way for you to know what was happening here. When the questioning started, it didn’t take long for someone to give up Baylor. They tried torture with him, but you know Baylor—he wouldn’t talk.”
Gabe squeezed Clarite’s hand even tighter. He wanted to scream out in anger, but remained silent, listening. He needed to know more and upsetting Clarite wouldn’t help him.
“We could hear Baylor’s screams from the prison. Kryn couldn’t take it anymore; he decided he would break Baylor out. It didn’t go like he planned. He made it inside but then he — well, it was like he lost all his will to fight when he discovered Baylor was already dead. Kryn just sat there, holding him, he didn’t even try to resist when they found him. After he was captured they decided they would make an example out of him.” Clarite’s voice caught in her throat and she began to tremble.
Gabe pulled her closer, not letting go of her hand, and wrapping his other arm around her body in an effort to comfort her.
“They burned it all to the ground, everything he had in the world. He didn’t even react, just watched silently. I don’t eve
n know if Kryn was in there anymore, his stare was glassy and when he walked it was like he was a machine instead of ... I don’t know. It just didn’t seem like him. When they realized torturing him was not going to be any fun they killed him and put his head on a stake outside of town. They wanted everyone to know that if you help the protector you will not be shown mercy.” With those words Clarite heaved as if she were going to cry, but had no tears left.
“I’m so sorry, Clarite,” Gabe said, wishing he could lessen her pain.
Clarite closed her eyes and took a deep breath, willing herself to continue. “Many of the town’s people, including myself, were put to work serving Baal’s men. We fed them, cleaned for them, anything that needed done we took care of it. I don’t think I slept at all during those months. Then one day they were gone. I don’t know where, just gone. Do you know what it’s like to wake up every day expecting it to be your last? When they left I didn’t know how to feel. The Wintoks have been around ever since, mercenaries of Baal.”
“Clarite, if I had known— ” Gabe began.
“What? What would you have done if you knew?” Clarite growled.
Gabe sat silent. No words coming to mind.
“There was nothing you could do, Gabe. There’s nothing any of us can do. All hope is lost. You know, I used to believe in this protector crap. But now I see, what good is one kid against an army of darkness?” Clarite stood and walked towards the road before stopping and turning one last time to look at him.
“You shouldn’t have come back, Gabe.” Without another word she walked away, climbing to the roadside and then down the dusty path, out of Gabe’s sight.
Gabe sank to the ground. He thought about chasing after her, but what would he say? What could he possibly say? Rachel was right. Everything she said had been absolutely correct about him. He was selfish, and anyone who came in contact with him was bound to end up dead or in some way victimized.
