Guardian: Book Two, Feather Book Series

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Guardian: Book Two, Feather Book Series Page 12

by Abra Ebner


  I felt as the ring exhaled with a sharp pinch. I yelped, dropping it against my chest as though it had bit me. Scott was quick to silence my disruption as Edgar’s ghost halted, turning on his heel and glancing back. His eyes were cold and dark, somehow changed as though looking into Hell itself. For a few unbroken moments he stared right through me, the look changing to one of knowing.

  My breath choked in my throat as his gaze fell to the ring on my chest, now burning into my skin. Edgar’s mouth curled into a half smile as mine fell open in disbelief. Though the exchange had only lasted a split second, it had felt like an eternity as he twisted his gaze back, just in time to avoid dissipating through a large group of students.

  I looked down at Margriete, her gaze frightened and confused. “What was that?” I asked.

  She let out a frightened meow.

  I looked toward Scott and Sarah, both still stunned by the event, their eyes fixed on Edgar’s back.

  “What was that?” Scott finally exhaled, his remark mirroring mine and his body trembling with suspense and fear.

  Since I had told them about Edgar’s death, I knew they had felt a certain unease toward the ghost. Sarah had expressed that she’d even noticed a change as though it was acclimating to the human world, taking on a personality of its own and forgetting the purpose as to why it had been created.

  “I don’t know,” I breathed, my mind racing to figure what had happened. Had his ghost felt the presence of Edgar through the ring? Had he known? My body shuddered at the thought, wondering if it was a danger I needed to keep in mind.

  Margriete hoped off my lap and began to pace before me, her eyes looking back toward the woods, and then me.

  “I think I should go.” I stood and looked down at Sarah and Scott, hanging in suspense as their faces questioned me. “I’ll try to be back soon, but I’m not sure how long it will be. Something strange is going on here, and it only fuels my need to press forward with my plans.” If the stories Margriete had told me were true, then it was uncertain what the gods would do to foil my arrangements. The longer I waited to take action, the more they would succeed in stopping me.

  Something about the ghost’s eyes felt like a warning and I couldn’t let something like that slide. If there was indeed an inkling of Edgar left inside the hologram, it may have been his way of telling me I needed to make haste, or their way of watching me. I squeezed my hands together as my stomach lurched.

  “Sorry guys,” I leaned down and gave them both a hug, “But thanks for all the work you did.”

  Scott jumped to his feet, “But keep in mind Elle, you’re safer when you’re…” he paused and looked around him, making sure no one was in earshot. “A raven,” he whispered. “The armor only applies then.”

  I nodded before turning on my heel and walking toward the woods, Margriete trotting behind me. My arms swung freely at my sides as we entered the trees. “How did his ghost change like that? He’s just a holograph, a program. It was as though, he saw me.” I looked back at Margriete but she gave me no sign or answer.

  “Did you feel it was dangerous?” I looked back toward the trail. “I mean, do you think the gods know about the ghost? Do you think they’re using it against me?” My mind could not stop asking this same question, bordering on insanity.

  When I glanced back to look at Margriete, she was suddenly standing beside me, again human. “I really don’t know, something wasn’t right though, my heart was racing, but why? I don’t usually have that sort of reaction, and it wasn’t the fact of seeing his face either. I think the gods are getting anxious, scared that if they let you continue to formulate a plan it could ultimately harm them.”

  Margriete had been practicing with her new changeling, becoming accustomed to the feeling of the cat, rather than raven. We had both figured out how to keep our clothes now and had mastered changing without a sound, just a breath of seamless air. My changeling had been a little harder to master, but I was beginning to get used to it. My clumsy nature from growing up human had spoiled my once graceful reputation. Even Margriete had commented on the awkwardness of my new body, as though it still didn’t know how to keep up with my mind.

  “Strange,” I finally answered. “Do you think we need to worry?”

  Margriete looked around at the trees that now engulfed us, “I think it’s more important to get Edgar back at this point, all the preparations we’ve made need to be put into action. We can’t allow this distraction to sidetrack us. Besides, the best person to deal with the problem is Edgar himself, it’s just another reason why saving him is quite futile.”

  I exhaled, finding the notion of saving Edgar far-fetched, but the certainty in Margriete’s voice was comforting.

  There was a large crack from the trees overhead as Sam crashed down before us, the ground collapsing under his weight and shaking the nearby trees.

  Margriete released a sigh of annoyance, “Is he always so dramatic?”

  I put my hands on my hips and caulked out one foot, “Unfortunately.”

  “Hello ladies,” Sam took one step forward, hoisting his large body out of the crater he had made.

  He approached Margriete and lifted her in his arms as she groaned with hate. Since she couldn’t fly, she had been subjected to the same egotistical teasing that Sam had forced me to endure. I quickly twisted into my changeling, now hovering among the branches, my wings lingering in the thick misty air.

  With a nod we both shot skyward as I caught a glimpse of Margriete as she flipped back into a cat, digging her claws into Sam’s chest with spite. Sam was watching her with disgust, allowing her to cling to him though obviously disliking the closeness. If anyone were to see our parade of friends now, they would surely find humor in the awkward alliance. There were two hawks, a white raven, and an angel with a cat grappling at his chest, all flying through the forest.

  Sam eyed me as we entered into the meadow, his gaze sheepish after the reprimand he had eventually received for what he had done to my car. He was learning the rules of the house, and I was thankful that he was at least attempting to abide by them. He landed in the meadow with another heavy thud, jolting Margriete as she helplessly clung to his shirt, her back paws dangling free.

  She hissed at him as she quickly twisted out of her changeling and then slapped him across the face. With a dramatic grumble, she stormed toward the middle of the field, the grasses turning a vibrant red in her wake. I laughed and looked at Sam as we met eyes.

  “I don’t think she’ll ever come around Sam, sorry.” I brushed the dust from my jeans and wool vest.

  He snorted, an amused smirk slicing across his white face. “She’s sure fun to pick on though.” His eyes followed her as she disappeared into thin air, now inside the house.

  “She’s not really your type anyways,” I joked.

  He walked toward me and put his face right next to mine, “She’s feisty, what more could you want?”

  Shocked, I looked at him sideways.

  He leaned back, “Just joking.”

  I chuckled under my breath, bringing my hand to my chest, “You wish.”

  His eyebrows rose and there was hint of something serious lingering behind his golden eyes.

  I quickly looked away, finding this development intriguing but also sensing the awkwardness that had somehow crept between us. We were bonding. I gagged then, stepping away from him as I refused to find him fun and friendly. I coughed as I forced the taste from my mouth, walking toward the house with dignity and poise.

  Turning my mind to more productive theories I thought about our agreed plan. Tonight we would leave, for where, we still weren’t certain. Margriete informed me that her golden journal possessed all the tools we would need to find our way, and she was confident as our guide.

  I could hear Sam behind me as I walked to the middle of the field where I grabbed at an invisible handle, now acclimated enough that I knew where to find it. Opening the door for Sam, we both disappeared within, the meadow now returning to
its silent beauty as our shoes echoed across the granite entry. Ducking into the library, we found Margriete with her nose in the gold book, her hand tracing the air as she added a few notes to the magical pages.

  She didn’t look up as we entered, sensing our presence. “So I made sure to keep track of what I had done last time,” she pointed toward the page showing the image of her as a cat, entering the cave.

  It had been one of the first pages I had turned to when I first found the book and my mind remembered the moment and how enthralled and amazed I had been. Much had happened since those days, and there were now records kept, all magically written into her living book, a piece of her mind.

  The words turned to gold as she slid her finger along each line, reacting to her familiar touch. As she sat back, they faded back to black, moving as though suspended on the page like tiny snakes. I felt the familiar twang of jealousy rise in my heart, wishing my journals were also so special.

  “I think we should try to align our thoughts as best we can. If we can think of the same things, I think the cave will reveal itself more readily,” she continued.

  I nodded in compliance, sitting beside her on the couch. “Where do you suppose the cave will appear?”

  She took a deep breath and exhaled, twisting her lips in thought. “I think it will be relatively easy, as long as we concentrate. Knowing the cave exists is half the battle.” I watched as she expertly navigated the pages of the book, as though the back of her hand. “See here,” there was an image of two eyes in the dark, “This was how my journey was. The thing is they’re all figments of your own imagination. No matter how real it seems, you and Sam must remember, that it’s not.” She sighed, “I’m not sure what the cave will do to Sam, he is different than us. He has a similar thought process and mental structure to that of the gods, so they may not even detect his presence, or his intrusion. It could be a good tool for us.”

  Sam walked into the room with his hands full of supplies, “The dusk is coming. I think we should think about leaving.”

  For the first time, Sam had a firm and serious look on his face. It was as though he knew the challenges that faced us, and was now focused on the task. After all, it was his job.

  Margriete and I nodded as she gently shut the book and tied a leather strap around it, knotting it in such a way that she could swing it onto her back like a satchel.

  “We won’t need many supplies, but we’re definitely going to need that dagger.” She looked at me with a nervous glimmer in her eye.

  I looked at Sam, then back at her as I stood. I walked to the kitchen where I opened the drawer, digging toward the back and grabbing at the wadded cloth that contained the dagger. I drew back the cloth where I exposed the handle, remembering the day it had stolen everything I had cared for. I ran my finger across the engravings as I wondered what they meant. There were three rats and a snake, their eyes made of red rubies and their faces snarling.

  I shuddered, realizing the power of the weapon now in my possession. I quickly wrapped the rag back around the handle and shoved in into my belt. It felt strange to leave, as though the coming quest was still just a dream.

  As I walked back out into the hall, Henry sat on Margriete’s shoulder as Sam stood arbitrarily by her side, his face like a marble statue in the receding light of the day.

  “Well, are you ready?” Margriete took a deep breath and exhaled.

  I nodded, my nerves crackling through my limbs, “Let’s go.”

  THE CAVE

  I glanced up at the trees as we slowly made our way deep into the woods, heading even farther from the college and up the mountain. A raven landed on a nearby branch, but it no longer held the same potent fear as before, now merely a bird, and an American breed at that.

  Margriete’s white hair contrasted sharply in the darkness of the woods, almost like a beacon. Sam’s stride was heavy and hard as it landed on the forest floor, igniting the pulse of the earth. I felt the cold moist air as it rippled through my lungs, releasing like a cloud as I exhaled and falling like a curtain around me.

  As darkness fell, my instincts took over and my eyes adjusted to the nocturnal light with little effort. It was easier for me to see at night, the colors de-saturated and the trees and animals became heavily contrasted, as though looking through night vision goggles. I remembered how easily Edgar had always found the light switch in the dark, and how weak my vision had once been. A smile crept across my face at the memory, finding it a welcomed push onward.

  Margriete seemed to know where we were going, but it felt as though we were wandering aimlessly. I still did not understand how the cave would reveal itself, especially when there seemed to be no real hillside for it to appear. I analyzed every hill as the sound of summer crickets calmly cut through the branches of the towering evergreens, kissing my ears with a thankful melody.

  Our feet crunched across the humid forest floor, the fertile mud welcoming our fragrant secretions. I clasped my hands together and cracked my knuckles, my mind beginning to drone into nothingness and boredom. The pack on my shoulders was beginning to make my back sweat and I tried to reach around and itch it.

  Sam looked back at me struggling, “Giving up already?”

  I grumbled as I fought with the pack, “I’m not exactly seeing the relevance of the direction we’re going in,” I whispered, hoping Margriete wouldn’t hear me. “It just seems like we’re lost.” She was a few paces ahead, her eyes concentrating hard on the scenery around her.

  She noticed our disruption and turned to face us, stopping for a moment to catch her breath.

  “So where are we exactly? How do you know we aren’t just hiking around in circles?” I asked, my face accusing and cold.

  Margriete’s eyes were still looking around her, sharply glancing from side to side.

  “This is about as much nature as I can…”

  “Shh,” Margriete cut Sam off, her brows furled and her hand up as though halting us.

  “What?” I whispered, but Margriete only became further perplexed by my disobedience.

  I tried to listen for what it was that she was sensing, but I heard nothing. In fact, I had heard absolutely nothing. I looked around, finally noticing that the wind had ceased, and the crickets hushed. I looked toward the sky. A robin sat on a branch, its beak moving, but no sound erupting from within.

  Suddenly, there was a distinct crackling and I felt a chill roll over us like a quiet fog. My heart began to race as I continued to scan the forest for anything that could give me a sign as to what was happening. It was then that the ground before me began to grow frost and it slowly crept its way up the stumps of the trees, halting any subtle movements as though freezing it in time and space.

  My breath erupted into a warm fog before my face, the air now dramatically colder than that of the deepest winter. Sam twisted in his spot, his body reacting to the sudden change as he readied himself for attack. Sam was the only one of us that did not breathe a cloud of steam, his cold dead body unable to produce the heat.

  “It’s okay Sam,” Margriete tried to reassure him. “This is good.”

  The trees were now completely blanketed in a layer of watery glass and the robin overhead was now frozen in time, its beak gaping in its last attempt to cry. The light from the moon sparkled as it hit the frost, lifting the darkness as though it were dawn.

  Margriete’s body relaxed as she untied the leather strap containing her book. Steam rose from its golden cover, billowing into the air as though a hot cup of tea. She quickly flipped through the pages, her finger following over a paragraph of text that now glowed.

  “According to my last memory, the cave should be very close, if we can just step in the vicinity of it, it will reveal itself to us.” She turned the page and read on, “The frost grows so that it freezes all human onlookers from seeing the entrance, or inhibiting them from entering. Only our kind can resist this simple security tactic because we are not of the human world.” She pointed toward the frozen robin o
verhead, “We are the only ones alive here now. Everything else has been suspended.”

  I blinked hard as I watched her, “So which way now?”

  Margriete shrugged, “I’m not sure, but let’s continue further. If we get too far away from the entrance, the frost will melt and we’ll know.”

  Sam laughed, “It’s like playing hot and cold. Except the closer we get to our target, the colder it becomes.”

  I snorted, “That’s one way to look at it I suppose.” I reached around my back and swung my bag down before me. Rummaging through its contents, I extracted two sweaters and threw one toward Margriete.

  She caught it with one hand, her other still cradling the book as she continued to read. “Thanks,” her whole body violently shook and her teeth began to chatter, “Good to see you were prepared.”

  Sam cut in, unable to resist, “Oh come on now girls, you could have just cuddled up to me.” He winked.

  Margriete and I looked at each other and rolled our eyes.

  “I doubt that’s really going to do much Sam,” I looked at his now blue skin.

  I repacked my bag and we continued forward, my boots now crackling against the frost like walking on broken glass. We rounded around a large evergreen and down a small embankment. At the bottom of the small ravine a stream had been flash frozen, a small frog leaping from the water with one foot still engulfed in ice.

  I leaned down and inspected it with sick interest. Its eyes were completely iced like shiny marbles and its skin coated with a thin layer of clear glass. As I looked down the stream, there was also a deer, her tongue out as she licked at the water, now perilously frozen until our job here was done.

  “This is incredible,” I breathed, jumping from one bank to the next. My boots slipped as I landed and fell back, my arms flailing as they hit the frog. I gasped with guilt as its leg snapped like an icicle and I let out a sorrowful cry.

 

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