The Sacred Guardians Series Box Set: Books 1-4 Omnibus
Page 87
Micah cooed in response.
“I love you,” Gabe added looking at both of them.
“Say, ‘we love you too daddy,’” Rachel replied, lifting Micah’s arm as if he were waving.
Gabe’s eyes filled with water, but he pushed the tears back with a little laughter. “We better go. Finding him with cover of night will be best.”
Rachel nodded. Then Gabe did one of the hardest things he had ever done, he turned and walked away from his family.
Stopping and bracing himself against one of the posts of the porch, Haim slapped him on the back before stating, “I promise, I won’t let anything happen to them.”
“I know you won’t,” Gabe added, and then made his way to Sophie’s body, where Uri already waited, Sera, leaning in for one last kiss.
“Be careful you two,” Sera warned.
Uri crouched, and scooped Sophie’s body up into his arms, ensuring the blanket was still covering her. He prepared himself for the transportation. Gabe pulled the bloodstone once again from his pocket. Running his fingers across it repeatedly he asked Uri, “You ready for this?”
“Does it matter if I’m not?” Uri replied.
“No, not really,” Gabe answered, reaching out and taking a firm grip on Uri’s arm. Using the charm to track as they transported was different than what the boys were used to. They lingered in the in between, the distorted reality starting to take more of an effect on their senses.
When at last they arrived at their destination, Gabe thought he might actually vomit, but then managed to suppress the urge.
“You all right?” he asked, looking at Uri who stumbled back a couple steps, struggling to hold on to Sophie’s body.
“Fine,” he replied, shaking it off.
Looking around, Gabe saw a vast campsite around them, military in nature. As far as his eye could see were rows upon rows of tents. A large part of the grounds were lit by torchlight and campfires.
With an elbow to Gabe’s side, Uri motioned towards the large tent across the path in front of them, “The flag.”
Gabe peered at it for a moment, watching it snap and twist in the wind, it was the crest of Rampart. They all wore rings that bore the same symbol, a symbol that signified they were a force, uniting against evil. On the flag was a dagger through a snake that was wrapped around a tree.
“You think he’s in there?” Gabe asked.
“We used the stone and that’s our mark, what do you think?” Uri grumbled.
“All right, no need to get snippy,” Gabe replied.
“Sorry, I’m just not looking forward to this,” Uri stated, shifting Sophie’s weight in his arms.
“Hey!” a distant soldier shouted. “Hey you there, stop!”
“Let’s go!” Uri shouted, moving as quickly he could across the path towards the oversized tent ahead of them.
“I said stop!” The man shouted again before blowing a whistle.
Just as Gabe reached the opening of the tent, Michael emerged, trying to figure out what all the noise was about.
Uri fell to one knee in an effort not to drop Sophie.
The one guard arrived at the tent as well and was now accompanied by three more. “I’m sorry sir, I tried to stop them.”
Uri looked up from the ground and remarked, “You gotta get better security.”
“Uri!” Michael exclaimed, his eyes shifting next to him. “And Gabe? Oh my God, what are you two doing here?”
The men didn’t answer, instead, their eyes both shifted nervously to the body under the blanket.
“They’re fine, they’re with me,” Michael instructed his guards, attempting to dismiss them.
“Sir?” the man questioned.
“I said they’re fine!” Michael snapped, and with that final command the guards turned and walked away, angrily mumbling under their breath.
“What’s happened?” Michael inquired, just as rain began to fall on their flesh.
Neither Uri nor Gabe answered, both unsure how to put recent events into words. “Come in, come in,” Michael instructed moving to one side.
First, Gabe entered, ducking in through the flaps on the tent, then Uri stood to his feet, as he shifted Sophie, the blanket fell from her face. When Uri entered and Michael caught a glimpse of whom he carried, he stumbled back into a nearby table.
Uri carried her to the cot at the far side of the room and laid her down as gently as he could. Michael wasted no time, pushing himself off from the table, rushing across the room, and falling to his knees at Sophie’s side.
“Oh no,” he moaned. “Not you baby girl, not you.”
Gabe struggled to breathe as he watched his mentor coming unraveled before his eyes. The more distraught Michael became, the more it felt like an anvil was sitting on top of his chest.
“What happened?” Michael demanded, turning and looking up at Uri.
“We think it was Valafar’s men,” Uri stated, but that was all he could find the words to say.
Gabe felt compelled that Michael should know and understand the sacrifice Sophie made, “She jumped in front of a spell to save Rachel and the baby.”
“You would do that, wouldn’t you?” Michael said looking at Sophie’s colorless face, as if she could still hear him. “And Rachel’s all right?”
“Yeah, the attack caused her water to break, and last night she gave birth to our son,” Gabe explained, saddened that there seemed to be no joy in his announcement, now overshadowed by the loss of Sophie.
Michael rose to his feet, his eyes lingering on Sophie’s face a moment longer.
Uri stepped forward, “I would have tried to save her if I could have Michael; you have to know that.” Uri was now crying as he spoke. The recent display of emotions by his friend felt out of place, and made it even harder for Gabe to witness.
Michael patted Uri on the arm as he crossed the room. Gabe noticed how his movements were like that of a feeble old man, another foreign concept for Gabe. “I know you would have dear boy; I know.”
“She was a hero,” Gabe reminded them.
“So you had a son?” Michael confirmed, turning and slowly lowering himself into the director style chair behind the table.
Gabe turned to look at him, while Uri’s gaze was still fixated on Sophie.
“Micah Raimie Harwood,” Gabe replied.
“Very strong name,” Michael commented with a slight smile.
“Michael, I want her buried with Raimie,” Uri interjected, he was clearly not listening to the conversation happening around him, his eyes never looking away from her lifeless body.
“I’ll make sure of it,” Michael replied.
“Sir, Sophie isn’t the only reason I’ve come here to talk to you,” Gabe added, the thought of Rachel and Micah consuming him.
“What is it Gabe?” Michael asked his voice still heavy with the newness of the grief.
“The prophecy, it says if I die, Micah can live, right?” Gabe continued.
“Yes, and?” Michael pushed, unsure where this conversation was headed.
“How does that work? Is there a time I’m supposed to die? A way? I want to make sure Micah and Rachel are safe, I need to do this right,” Gabe pleaded.
“I’m so sick of all this talk about death!” Uri exclaimed. “What’s the point if we’re all going to end up dead anyways.”
Uri turned and rushed from the tent, with each step that hit the earth he could feel his fury, growing, burning more intensely. He’d buried enough friends for the cause. He’d had enough of it all, and now Gabe plotted his own demise. It was his breaking point.
Gabe stared at the flap of the tent, half expecting Uri to turn and come back. Instead, all he saw was the rain fall and settle on the earth.
“Let him be, Sophie’s death is going to be especially hard on him.”
Gabe nodded. This was something he already knew quite well.
“And as far as your question goes, I don’t know. A prophecy doesn’t come with an instruction m
anual. I assume when the time’s right, you’ll know what to do,” Michael replied.
“No,” Gabe argued. “It’s getting worse every day out there. If I don’t figure out a way to keep them safe, Baal or Valafar, one of them is going to catch up with us. And then what am I going to do?”
Michael sighed, looking past Gabe at Sophie’s body, “I wish we knew how to keep the ones we love safe, but we don’t always know how to do that. I’m sorry. You can sleep in one of the nearby tents tonight, let Uri blow off some steam, and then tomorrow you should return to your son. He’s going to need you.”
Gabe said nothing in response as Michael called out, summoning for a guard to escort him. He relied on Michael for answers. He was facing one of the most important challenges of his life and he needed his leader more than anything. He had no words of wisdom, or encouragement. He was barely the man he remembered at all. Gabe’s hope dissipated even further.
Following the soldier silently out into the rain, he was led down a side path and around the back of Michael’s tent. They weaved in and out between the campfires so many times, Gabe wondered if he might ever find his way back to Michael.
Up ahead, the soldier stopped in front of a cluster of darkened tents. Gabe stepped to one side, waiting for the man to direct him where to go.
Leaning forward and attempting to shout over the sound of the deafening rain, the human guard pointed and said, “This tent is available, now.”
Gabe imagined he knew all too well what that meant. The poor soul who had once inhabited it was just another casualty of the war between good and evil.
“Thank you,” Gabe replied, taking one more step back to move out of the soldier’s path. Unfortunately, when he did this, he did not see the root just behind his heel, or the rocky hillside just behind that. Falling back, he attempted to catch himself, but alas with the rain pouring down and water rushing all around him in the darkness, he was unable to regain his bearings. A sharp pain shot through his head as he came to rest at the bottom of the hill, a rock for a pillow. He could hear the soldier crying after him in the distance, but soon … all faded into blackness.
Somehow Gabe expected to wake in the arms of his beloved Rachel, but that was not the case. When he opened his eyes he was surrounded by a warmth, yet still swallowed by utter and complete darkness. His arms, legs, hands, and feet all felt as if a million tiny needles were prickling his skin all at once. He attempted to shake his limbs, but they would not move.
Now, starting to panic, Gabe cried out, begging for someone’s assistance. Oddly, Gabe realized his eyes were still closed. Forcing them open, he stared up at what he realized was the sun. It wasn’t raining; there were no muddy soldier boots around him. Instead he was surrounded by the sound of seagulls and the smell of the ocean.
The tingling had faded, and Gabe pushed himself to sit upright, the sand clinging to his flesh. He looked down. Sand? He was on a beach. The entire scene felt very familiar.
“Are you going to join us, silly?” a voice called to him from behind, “or just sulk in the sand all day.
Gabe could feel his chest constricting, he knew who the voice belonged to. It was one he thought he had all but forgotten the sound of, one he had not heard since he was a small boy. But now, as it danced in his ears, he did recognize it. Mother. But it can’t be, he told himself, mom’s dead.
“Do I need to get your dad over here?” she threatened. But Gabe knew it had to be a trick of some kind, his father was dead, as well. Both had been since he was five years old.
Turning, and looking up at the source of the voice, Gabe was temporarily blinded by a ray of sunshine, blocking the woman’s face. And then it happened; the woman who had given him life came into focus. Her raven hair peeked out all around her sunbonnet and her oversized sunglasses slipped down her petite nose. Her rosy cheeks were full and bright. It was her.
“Mom?” He gasped.
“Well who else would it be, silly?” she asked, sitting down in the sand next to him.
“This can’t be real, you’re dead,” Gabe argued, more with himself than with the vision he was looking at.
“Gabe, honey, we may not be with you on Earth, but we never left your side,” the woman said softly.
“It can’t be,” Gabe insisted.
“Our grandson is beautiful,” she added with a smile.
“Mom?” he said again longingly, “Is it really you?”
“Come here baby,” she offered, extending her arms. As he fell into them, she began to rock gently from side to side, it reminded him of how he felt when he was a child, and she would hold him.
Time slipped past him. It was immeasurable, and though he wished he could remain in this state forever, thoughts of his wife and own child returned to him. Freeing himself from his mother’s embrace, Gabe stood and peered out at the waves breaking on the shore.
She stood next to him, watching. “What’s wrong son?”
“Nothing,” Gabe quickly replied.
“It doesn’t seem like nothing,” she insisted.
Gabe looked at her and smiled, then back to the water. “It’s nothing you can help with.”
“I doubt I’d be here if there wasn’t a reason.”
“Are you even here?” Gabe asked.
“There’s only one way to find out, tell me what’s bothering you. Let your mother see if she can help you.”
Gabe took in a deep breath, then released it slowly. “All right, I guess it’s worth a try. I want to protect my family. I tried to find the Guardians crown so I could destroy Baal, but that won’t work without Raimie.”
“Go on,” she prompted him.
“I know the prophecy says that if I die, my son will live, but I don’t know how it’s supposed to happen,” Gabe stated, his chest aching as he spoke the words.
“You do,” she replied softly.
“No, I don’t, I promise. If you know, please tell me,” Gabe pleaded.
“You made the choice, and that was all that was ever required of you, sweetheart.” She answered in a tender voice.
“What? What does that mean?” Gabe demanded.
“If you really think about it, you’ll know what that means. I have to go now, we don’t get long for visits like these,” she replied. “I love you, son.”
“Wait, what? No!” Gabe exclaimed. “You can’t go, you just got here.”
Gabe reached out and grabbed his mother’s arm, determined not to let her leave. But much to his dismay, her image began to fade away, and no matter how tight he held on, she continued to grow more and more transparent. “Mom, please! I need you.”
“Remember, all you had to do was make the choice.” And with those final words she was gone from his life again.
Gabe fell to his knees, shouting wildly, angry at the world, at the decisions he faced, and even angrier about what had already been taken from him. Squeezing his eyes shut, he focused on the image of Rachel and Micah, the way her fingers danced across his stomach just before Gabe left. The scene brought a calm over him.
“Gabe! Wake up Gabe!” Uri’s voice jarred him into consciousness.
“Huh?” Gabe gasped, looking around the tan room. “Where am I?”
“What? You don’t even know where you are? That was some nasty blow to the head you took,” Uri exclaimed.
“Michael!” Gabe shouted sitting up, the pain rushing to his head as he did. Clutching at the bandage on his forehead Gabe winced in pain.
“Careful,” Uri warned.
Shaking his head, Gabe stood, and pushed his way past Uri. “I need to talk to Michael.”
“What?” Uri shouted chasing after him. “You need to sit down for a second while I go and get the doctor. You split your head open last night, or don’t you remember that either?”
Gabe wasn’t listening though, through squinted eyes he was searching wildly through the rows of tents for the one with a familiar flag out front. He didn’t notice that he no longer wore shoes and his bare feet were sloshing aro
und through thick mud that was now climbing up his ankles.
In an instant he stopped, peering up, his heartbeat quickening in pace as he caught a glimpse of the flag, three tents down. “Michael!” He shouted, clutching his head again, his own voice causing an echoing inside his skull, followed by a ringing sound.
“Be careful!” Gabe heard Mirada’s voice commanding. “If you drop her, so help me …”
Gabe watched as two men exited the tent, carrying a large black bag with a zipper up the center of it. One of them replied timidly, “Yes ma’am.”
“Gabe!” Mirada exclaimed. “You’re up, I heard what happened to you last night, and I never expected to see you moving around so quickly. We don’t have as many healing potions readily available out here in the field, like we do at Iron Gate.”
Gabe saw her speaking, but her words were not registering. The earth was shifting all around him. The two men carrying what he could only assume was the bag containing Sophie’s body were fading into the background as he stumbled slightly, catching his balance on some nearby tent rope.
“Are you all right?” Mirada cried, rushing to his side for assistance. Gabe placed an arm around her neck, trying to steady himself.
A moment later, Uri raced around the corner, pulling Gabe’s other arm around his neck. The three began to move slowly and laboriously towards Michael’s tent.
“What’s wrong with him?” Mirada inquired of Uri.
“Heck if I know,” Uri grumbled. “But if I had to guess, it has to do with that nasty gash on his head.
“What’s going on?” Michael demanded as his wife and the men entered his tent. “Is Gabe all right?”
“Can you help us get him to the cot?” Mirada grunted, trying to twist Gabe and change their direction.
Michael made his way over to his once student, aiding him as he lie down on the couch.
“I’ll mix him up something that should help,” Mirada offered, walking over to a small side table, pouring a glass of water and measuring out various powders.
“Are you all right, my boy?” Michael inquired, looking into Gabe’s eyes. Gabe was having trouble focusing.