CHAPTER SIX
Waking Up
Something exploded next to us. Pieces of brick and stone flew at us, and something hard hit me in the head. When the world stopped spinning, I found myself lying on the ground next to a pile of rubble. My head throbbed, and I had a gash in my leg. My dress would need some serious mending, but the Angel took precedence on my priority list right now. "Lord Valkegaard?" I asked, brushing hair back from my eyes.
I spotted the rangir first. It pushed its way up through the rubble, nudging aside pieces of broken tile. "Good, you're all right," I said, reaching over to pet the animal. "It looks like the rangir's okay. Where are you?"
"I think he's unconscious," said a female voice. I stopped petting the rangir and looked it in the eyes. "Dig him out and we'll take him back to the sagekeep."
My stomach tensed up. Another talking animal? I backed up, stumbling over pieces of rubble. I closed my eyes. "This can't be real," I said, taking three deep breaths. "Animals can't talk. The Angels are long gone. And—"
Something hit my shin. "Ow!" The pain throbbed like a red-hot knife. I opened my eyes and saw that the rangir had kicked me. "What was that for?"
"You felt it, didn't you?" it—she—asked. "This isn't a dream, Kaybree Andresdatter. People are dying. And if what Galen says is true, then you could be the only one who can save them." She nudged something on the ground, and I saw it was Lord Valkegaard's shield. As she pushed it aside, I saw him lying there, his eyes closed, with a line of blood dripping down his forehead. I knelt down and felt his face. He was still breathing, thank the Father Above, and his injuries did not appear serious. "Hurry up and load him on my back. We have to get inside before they find us."
As she was the only one of us with a plan, I did as she said, limping over to Lord Valkegaard. I tried not to move him too much, since I didn't know if he'd broken anything. I left his shield on the ground, not wanting to repeat my disaster from the relic classroom, and hoisted him up. Either he was heavier than he looked, or I was weaker than I thought. I strained to drag him over to the rangir, who bent down and let me put him on her back.
Another explosion rocked the city, and the rangir glanced around before leaning over to me. "Sloppy," she said with a snort. "He's aiming blind for us. We might be able to make it. Tie Galen onto my back and I'll start moving."
I resisted the urge to look behind me. "Okay." I found the saddle straps and tied Lord Valkegaard to the saddle. The rangir straightened and started walking toward a narrow bridge that crossed the canal. "Um, Miss Rangir? I know it's a bad time to ask, but I'm still not so sure about listening to a talking animal. Do you only talk when we're this close to the forest?"
The rangir snorted again. "Oh, we always talk," she said, limping on her injured leg. "Forest or no forest. And it's Signy."
"Signy," I said, slipping on a fox fur glove and plucking the shield from the rubble. "Okay. But why can I understand now, and not before?"
She swung her head side to side, gathering speed as she ran across the empty bridge. "You ask too many questions." I followed, holding Lord Valkegaard's shield in front of me and keeping it away from my skin. The path ahead looked clear. We headed for a barred gate that led into the sagekeep, and I hoped that someone would be there to open it when we arrived.
I heard a rustling beside me. Signy tensed. "Kaybree, down!"
I did as she said, dropping to the cobblestones of the bridge. This time I landed on my knees, sending a wave of pain through them. But the wolf's jaws snapped at the air, missing me. The white wolf pounced again, but this time Signy stopped him with her antlers. She bashed him in the side, knocking him away. I crept back as they fought, wind whipping my clothes and hair, hoping Signy had a plan. When the wolf leapt past her and ran for me, though, I knew that her diversion had failed. The wolf fixed its gaze on me and pounced.
I held out the shield, bringing it in front of me right as the white wolf struck. He slammed against the shield, pinning me against the bridge railing. I touched the shield with my ungloved palm, hoping for it to burst into flames. Nothing happened. The wolf snapped at my hand, and I pulled it away. "Don't tell me you're this easy, little Witch," he said, stalking around to get past the shield. "Surely you have some brilliant trick to throw at me."
A torrent of wind buffeted us on the bridge. I had what? I didn't know what I was doing here. When I wanted to fit in, the relics blew things up. When I wanted fire and lightning, they did nothing. Who did this wolf think I was? I wished I could convince myself that if the wolf ate me, I'd just wake up in my bed. But the throb in my shin told me otherwise.
I scrambled for another option. What about the key that the mysterious messenger had given me? I touched the key around my neck, waiting for a light to envelop me like the heroes in the sagas. But once again, now that I needed it, it wasn't working.
The wolf pounced again, and I thought of one last, desperate move. I hope this works. With a nod to Signy, I brought the shield around and clubbed the wolf over the head with it, throwing him off balance. The wind blew my draped sleeves in front of me, obstructing the wolf's view for a split second—enough for Signy to charge in and batter the wolf with her antlers. I knew these sleeves would be good for something. The wolf moved to strike again, but a pair of crossbow bolts lodged themselves in his hide. The bolts hissed like water on a hot fire.
Soldiers in black coats advanced from their fortified positions by the sagekeep. They wore the same red insignia as Lord Valkegaard: my mother's troops had arrived. They aimed their crossbows, which had relics tied to the tops of them, at the wolf. The creature snarled once more and loped off.
Our entrance into the stables was hardly triumphant. The soldiers took Lord Valkegaard, bandaging up his bleeding forehead. A groom led Signy away, leaving me with the rest of the Vormund soldiers, who were reloading their crossbows. One of them, a pale man with a blonde mustache, tapped me on the shoulder. "Young Lady Staalvoss?" I nodded, acknowledging my mother's surname. I was getting used to strangers knowing me. He bowed and pointed to the door. "Your mother would like to speak with you."
I remembered nothing but a blur from my walk up to my mother's tower keep, the central chamber of Vormund tower. The doors with the Vormund insignia were open, and guards stood at attention, waving us inside. We passed rooms buzzing with activity, but I never got more than a glimpse of them before the blonde mustache man nudged me on: a room where men in black wool coats mixed liquids together; an armory where smiths hammered away at a forge, dressed in leather vests; a library with more books than I could count.
We arrived at the tower keep. People shouted out orders, scribbled down notes, and ran from one side of the room to the other. At the center of it all, Lady Andreya Staalvoss stood firm like a rock amongst a storm of crashing waves. I hadn't seen her in over a year, but the hard lines of her face and her tight, severe mouth were the same. Her wide lapis eyes mirrored mine, and her slender frame and high cheekbones made her look like a skeleton. Her fair hair was tied in a bun behind her head. She wore a black uniform of military cut, even though women weren't allowed in the Kantmarck military, and military uniforms weren't supposed to be black, the color reserved for physicians. As far as I knew, she was the first woman to take a soldier's surname, but after she'd saved all of Nordgard, no one could argue.
When I came up in front of her, she was giving instructions to a man in plate armor. "Lady Andreya," the blonde mustache man said. "She's here."
My mother's head swiveled to the side, like a puppet on a string turning its head but leaving its body in place. Childhood memories of standing before her flooded my mind, and I stared down at her high leather boots, waiting for her latest tirade of disapproval. What would it be this time? Was I too pale? That was mostly her fault, for not letting me outside. Were my eyes too red-rimmed from staying up and reading by candlelight? Was I an embarrassment to her for being caught in the attack?
"Kaybree," she said, her voice low and cool. "I see that Galen found you." She
frowned, inspecting me with her eyes like a noblewoman sizing up a new gown, or a blacksmith scanning a piece of metal. She stepped forward and hugged me. "I'm relieved that you're safe." As much as I'd wanted to hear those words, though, they sounded . . . hollow. Unreal. "Come. Let me make sure you're all right." She led me away into the hallway.
We ended up in a room by the armory full of odds and ends. Swords and shields covered the walls, with smooth, polished relics interspersed throughout the room. She closed the door, and I held my breath. This wasn't like her to drop her mission to see to my safety. "Is something wrong, Mother?" I asked.
Without speaking, my mother pulled a small colorless orb from her coat pocket. She held it over my forehead, lightly brushing my skin. Sweat dripped down my cheeks. I'd always wanted to impress my mother, to belong with her. She was all I had, and even if I acknowledged the nobles' disapproval of her, I wanted to make her proud. Despite my progress in my studies, she never seemed satisfied; aside from a few offhanded comments about my appearance, she rarely expressed interest in my activities during our yearly meetings. I understood that the world needed her more than I did, and I accepted that. But why was she stopping her mission now to talk to me?
The orb began to glow. It changed from green to red to a deep violet, and finally back to clear. My mother nodded. "Let's find a Weapon for you," she said.
"A what?" I asked. Before she could answer, she grabbed a gauntlet from a peg on the wall and handed it to me. I turned it around in my hands. Its texture felt the same as the relics, rough and brittle. "What's this?"
"Your Weapon," she said. "You'll need it when you go back out there."
I stared out the window at the plumes of smoke rising from the city. "Out where?"
"Into the city. To fight the Angel."
Her tone indicated that this should have made perfect sense to me. I paused, waiting for her to explain. Waiting for her the punch line to a joke that would never come. She stared at me with dead, icy eyes, awaiting my response. I turned the gauntlet in my hand. "You want me . . . to use this . . . to fight that big fiery thing out there that's wrecking the city?"
"Yes," she said, gesturing to a side door that led out of the room by another way. "Go out this way, and make sure that no one sees you. No one must know that you can use the Weapons."
Panic bubbled up in me, along with a flash of frustration. Did she really expect me to just leap out there and start fighting when I had no idea what to do? "Mother, I don't understand. I've never fought an Angel before. I've never fought anything."
She led me over to the door and cranked the latch so that it swung open. It led to a blank corridor that sloped downward. "Put the gauntlet on, and the Angel will find you. You'll know what to do when the time comes. I'm sure of it."
I stood fast, frozen in place. She had to be testing me somehow. Was she trying to prove my loyalty? I wished Signy would kick me again. "How can you be so sure?"
She frowned. "Because you're our weapon against the Angels. Why do you think I summoned you to Kant Vakt?"
My heart sank. She didn't call me here to see her little girl grow up, I thought. She needed to use me in one of her schemes.
Another explosion racked the buildings outside. People ran through the streets, fleeing from burning homes. A child staggered out of an alley, crying and waving her hands.
My selfish ire at my mother's attitude melted away. What was more important than saving the people of the city? I took a deep breath. Could I do it? Could I put on this gauntlet and fight off the Angel and its minions? I turned to my mother. "Isn't there anyone else who can do this?" I could put an outfit together for any occasion, but before today I'd never even thrown a punch, let alone swung a sword—or fought a divine guardian.
"No. You're the only one." Her voice was subdued, almost gentle.
"Then why did you never tell me?"
She stroked my face, leaning in close. "I had to wait until you were ready. Until you woke up." The words burned through my mind, and I thought of the strange events of the last few days. The vision from the Angel. Understanding the animals. Lighting the classroom on fire. Something had awakened inside of me—something that could fight the Angels. "Let the gauntlet be your guide, Kaybree." She gave me a push, and I stumbled into the hallway. "Don't disappoint me." She slammed the door behind me, latching it and leaving me alone in the empty corridor.
I tried the door, but it was locked. The sounds of battle raged outside, and the words of the Angel, the messenger, and the wolf all swirled in my head. According to my mother, I had a job to do. The people of the city needed me. I headed toward the downward spiral of the corridor, gripping the gauntlet tightly as I started down the hallway.
My heart pounded, and sweat trickled down my face and arms. This dress is going to be completely unsalvageable by the time I'm done. If I made it out of this alive, I'd buy a new dress. One of the classy, provincial Kant Vakt dresses with the flared skirt and a leather belt studded with fake diamonds. No, real diamonds. And my very own seal pup, one I could talk to when I went outside. If I saved the city, my mother could at least do that much for me.
The hallway ended in another door, and I opened it. A chill breeze greeted me, heralding my return to the street outside. I was abruptly aware that I had stepped back into the Angel's firing range as well. I walked out onto the road, stepping past overturned carts and smoldering pieces of wood. I slipped the gauntlet on my arm.
Nothing happened. I stood there for a few minutes, waiting. Where was the Angel?
A fiery speck appeared in the sky. My heart started hammering in my chest. The dot grew bigger, a splotch in the clouds. And bigger. She said I'd know what to do. But what? For a moment, I feared that I was just the bait, that she'd laid a trap for the Angel and wanted me to wave around this gauntlet like a worm wriggling on a fishing line. The dot continued to grow. I saw the outline of a person form, the same armored figure I'd seen before. It flew closer, landing on the ground down the street with an impact that shook the earth. It was looking at me.
A wave of heat emanated from the Angel, as if from a blazing furnace. I could see the anguish in his face. I raised the gauntlet and touched it with my palm, but it remained an ordinary gauntlet. Did it need words of encouragement to get started? How was I supposed to let it "guide" me? I looked frantically back at the Angel as it drew closer. It was only steps away now. My face burned from the heat. The Angel met my eyes, raising its hand. "Forgive me," he said, his voice low and soft.
I raised my gauntlet in defense. A river of flame flew out from his hands and hit me, throwing me back into the air. The flames scorched my skin, and I screamed. All I remembered was flying through the air and hitting my head against something hard.
I'd failed.
Kaybree Versus the Angels Page 6
