Trying to center himself, he moved through the motions again, outwardly calm. Inwardly, not so much. It took effort to do, reaching for something he wasn’t sure was there, like trying to grab hold with non-existent fingers. The movements were easy, but looking for that energy was foreign, and straining to the edge of pain. How do you take hold of a formless energy and coax it to do what you need? How do you do it with an exhausted spirit and an injured body?
You can’t.
After his battle with the creature in the forest. And the guardsman. And fleeing.
Like a coward.
No, this was foolish and quickly draining what little energy he had left. But again. There.
That tentative feeling of something, just beyond the edge of an outstretched hand. And again that pain grew in his shoulder, beyond the injury he knew was still there, raw and unhealed. It burned like the sun at its zenith and if he hadn’t been so intensely focused on that elusive energy, reaching out with invisible fingers, it may have frightened him. His breath was coming shorter with the effort it cost him, showing as sweat appeared at his temples. He’d closed his eyes, so he didn’t see the glow that began at the center of the symbol as he finished the final sequence. But he heard a faint hum and opened his eyes in time to see that hesitant light flicker and die. A startled breath later and heart racing, he tried again.
And this time he knew what to reach for. What it felt like. He heard Ria’s excited murmur, over the soft thread of sound that came from the brightening etching. He had it now, he could feel the edges of the energy seal. He could release it! But how? He was not of the Isao bloodline, who had passed down the Mamoru title for centuries. Who’s family had been given three divine gifts. Gifts given to no other.
One thing at a time. He’d almost completed the series again, and now there was only one more sequence to complete. Moving to the first of the three movements, he felt the hair rise on the back of his neck as the keening howl of another ryouken echoed down the passage from the direction they had come.
The girl’s startled jump at that howl was a distraction. Seconds. They had seconds. He could see the etching’s glow through the closed lids of his eyes. That pain in his shoulder flared to life again, spiraling higher and higher and he stopped what he was doing, gasping as the energy slipped away. The pain faded. He didn’t know what he was doing wrong, the door should have opened. He had to have done enough, poured enough energy into it. He didn’t know how it should feel. He didn’t know if this raw, worn feeling was okay. If it was right.
Ria was making a small sound in the back of her throat and he glanced over to see her watching the tunnel, her eyes feverish with fear. No time. Reaching out once more, he grit his teeth against the pain he knew would come, but this time, there was nothing but the energy, rising up, answering the call. He told it what to do. He’d swear he almost heard the sound of stone shattering as he stepped back and opened his eyes.
The etching was a shadow now, barely there in the dim light. But that hardly mattered, because there was a gap. A narrow passage, shoulder-wide, bringing the welcome scent of fresh air and greenery. “Ah!” Ria’s voice was shocked, her eyes rounded with white. But she was smiling, apparently forgetting that death was running on clawed feet and headed their way.
Grabbing her hand, Theron pulled the girl into the narrow hall and ran. Calling out the word to release the energy he’d built to hold the way open, it was a relief to feel it drain away. It left him exhausted though, and all his hurts rose up to remind him they were there. But tired as he was, he kept running, with Ria keeping pace beside him. Neither one paid any attention as the tunnel began to close up behind them, the rune glowing softly before fading again into the color of the flat stone around it.
Chapter 9
Mako would never admit it, but holding the bridles of three horses, at the edge where Eiji Forest met the grassy field along the side of the palace was nerve-wracking. Even for an Imperial Guard trained to face down any evil to protect the Emperor. Not only was he risking everything just by standing here, he wasn’t entirely sure who he would be helping, once he did what he intended to do.
A man with less nerve (or more sense) would have run away. Mako’s eyes narrowed as he noted that in a single moment he had both complimented and insulted himself.
The horse next to him shifted, the saddle knocking up against his side. Absently, he leaned his weight against the animal, one hand on the saddlebag to push it away from him. Before he’d left the barn, he wrapped the Mamoru’s belongings up in leather, binding it all to the black stallion’s gear. Once he managed to get close enough to put it on.
The tall black beauty didn’t take quickly to strangers, whether it was due to the horse’s personality or the bewildering injuries the animal had (claw marks along its chest and neck – where had the Mamoru gone that evening?), but patience and some grain won him through. Thankfully, he’d been able to equip the horse without losing any skin.
By bringing the man’s things with him, Mako dearly hoped to get his leather armor and boots back from the Mamoru, once they met up again. Sourly, he hoped for the Mamoru’s sake that the items were returned undamaged.
In the meantime, Mako was standing here in his linen undershirt and a wretched pair of filthy boots he’d found in the barn. Leftovers from the stable-hand most likely, Mako had to hold his nose against the smell when he put them on. Miserably, putting them on had not only been difficult (they were too small), but had taken forever (he had to take the ties off, restringing them just along the top, or they wouldn’t fit at all).
That sorry experience almost changed his mind about helping the Mamoru.
Mako’s eyes scanned the open space before him. Familiar blood-red uniforms made their way from the main entrance at the front of the palace, around to the East of the building. He didn’t know that side of the palace well, but he seemed to remember private quarters and another entrance that way. His gaze swept back to the field in front of him, where the grass lay undisturbed. Where the lights of the palace remained steady and fewer windows were lit. He knew why they all headed that way – they believed there were no entrances on this side of the majestic building and it would be senseless to waste manpower looking in this direction.
Mako knew something most of the guards did not. As a young man, before his parents died, he had found a secret passage when his family had visited from their estate. He could still remember seeing the sun fading into the sunset and furtive glances at the young mistress of the Miyashiro family as they slipped away to the end of the guest wing.
He remembered sneaking past the Emperor’s own chambers, reaching the end of the long hallway in the nobles’ quarters and eagerly stumbling into a closet. The excited, frantic stretch of fingers on cloth, trying to loosen the intricate puzzle of a belt, knowing it was wrong and thrilling in it. Not noticing fumbling feet had pushed him against a shelf until the blossom of pain in his elbow when it struck the sharp edge of a panel covering the wall, and the sensation of the thin paneling flexing under the weight.
Then a sound, like stone grating, and a click drew the startled eyes of two teenagers to the floor.
“What was that?” It had been too tempting and against common sense, he found himself following the young mistress down the ladder. They’d quickly scrambled back up again, too frightened to risk the darkness in the room below, but yes. Mako had seen enough to know there were ways in and out of the palace that even the inhabitants were not aware of.
So as the guards buzzed around the more likely entrances to the palace, he found himself here, in the Emperor’s woods on the other end. Standing frozen, distracted by the churning in his stomach and with a vague plan to search this side for the secret entrance he was sure that closet passage must have led to.
There was a problem with his plan, however. He looked at the horses. Too big. Too obvious. He couldn’t bring them across the grounds. He’d have to tie them up somewhere. For that matter, he did not see how he could mak
e it over to the building undetected (with or without the horses), find the Mamoru, the lady and that wretched girl (unless, wouldn’t it be awful if she got lost) and get the three of them out, so he would not be killed for treason and what in all the heavens was he doing?!?
Gritting his teeth in frustration, he thought hard as the huff of warm horse breath stirred his hair. Absently, he put a hand on the black horse’s muzzle. “Shh. Cut it out, horse.” He should have brought an apple for the beast.
He would find a place in the woods to tether the animals and approach alone from the far Western side of the palace. The other sides were flooded with men, but the West side and towards the rear of the building? Virtually barren. No guards that he could see for now, though it probably wouldn’t last. There was another group already headed to the stables and more rapidly moving out in a circular search pattern.
But thus far, those two areas were free and clear. Maybe he could do something with that.
Mako had always been stationed on the Southern side and roaming was discouraged, so he’d never had the opportunity to really explore every bit of the grounds. Looking now, he could see it was almost right up against the mountain, but there might be a way through on the left side of the sprawling building (though the ground dipped down pretty steeply). They had to maintain the grounds there too, so there must be a path.
And as he searched that area for a telltale gap that might show how he could get around to the rear of the palace, he blinked. There was a spot, in the greenery, that was glowing. Glowing. Not any color in particular, but as if the scenery itself were the source of the light. The leaves on the bushes near that spot were becoming a brighter green, the branches seemed to take on a luminescence. It was baffling and otherworldly. His heart started to beat faster as the glow grew brighter.
That light was definitely not coming from the palace, or the other guards. Taking a quick look at the clusters of men, he could see that their angle of view would prevent anyone from that side of the building from even seeing it. At least, they wouldn’t be able to see it as long as it didn’t get any brighter. But it was growing larger and he felt the hair on his arms stand up, because it was unnatural, that glow. Most troubling of all, somehow he knew the people he was here to help were responsible for it.
Quickly moving back into the tree line, he tied the horses where they wouldn’t be easily seen. The other guards would take a while before reaching this part of grounds. With any luck at all, he would be back and gone well before that.
It was when he was halfway between the forest tree line and that eerily glowing area that the light suddenly flared, so brightly that he had to hold a hand up to shield his eyes. When he dropped it again, past the gray spots the flash had left, he saw a hole where the glow had been. A hole. A cave, or a tunnel. How was that even possible?
So shocked by the appearance of that entrance, tunnel, whatever it was – that he stumbled in his headlong rush and had to throw out a hand to stop from falling flat on his face. And so he missed the two forms that came charging out of the tunnel, like they were running from death itself. They reached the open air and the Mamoru called out, a single word that Mako couldn’t make out. But there was another flare of light and the hole was gone once again. Before he could get over his shock at that, they caught sight of him. It was almost comical how quickly they came to a skidding halt and the Mamoru, who had been pulling the girl along behind him, stepped in front of her protectively.
Though he’d come in search of these two, now that he was confronted by them, he felt an embarrassed flush creep into his face. He knew how this must look. Insane. “Um,” he said intelligently, even as he kicked himself for not having a plan before facing them.
“What are you doing here?” The Mamoru’s voice was harsh with strain. Mako saw with a shock that the man looked like he’d been through hell. Over the bright red of the uniform, he could see darker spots, sections where the color wasn’t right. When the Mamoru had left the stables earlier, it seemed whatever injury he’d suffered was under control. It was plain that wasn’t the case any longer. The young man frowned.
After what the Mamoru had done, why did that bother him so much?
Well. He’d come this far. He wasn’t going to give up on the whole crazy idea, abandon these two and leave three horses tied up in the woods. Still, the guard looked around quickly. The three of them were still alone. He raised his hands in a placating gesture, showing they were empty, his sword still sheathed at his hip. Bowing slightly, he said, “I’ve come to offer assistance, Mamoru. If you will permit me.” But his heart sank when his gaze rose to the other man and he saw clear suspicion there.
He opened his mouth to explain (not even sure of what he’d say), when a voice rang out and the pounding sound of running boots interrupted their moment of respite. Hearing the Mamoru curse under his breath, and with a growing dread that rose up to choke any further words, Mako turned to see a group of heavily armed guardsman charging towards them. It felt like a punch in the stomach, this visual proof that he was doing something very bad. It was painfully obvious that he had taken his life in his hands by aiding these two fugitives.
Apparently his body was less certain about this whole “aiding” thing than his brain, because unbidden, he had taken a step back and it felt like every muscle was tense with the silent and urgent desire to turn and run back the way he’d come. Then the leading guards reached them. The Mamoru was closest and was forced to turn and engage with them or be run through. He heard a grunt of pain from the wounded man and a cry of fear from the girl as the clang of swords meeting rang in the cold morning air. He looked back and saw that even frightened as she must have been, the village girl moved toward the two combatants, eyes sharp for a way to help.
More armored men, who’d lagged behind their fellow guardsman, were closer now and closing. There was no way just the two of them, an injured man and a girl armed only with a dagger, would make it free of so many well-armed men. Mako felt an unwanted and completely unfair stab of guilt at the sight.
The sound of his sword being pulled free joined the clatter. Without further thought, Mako rushed forward to block the next guard, stepping in to shield the village girl. The man pulled up short. “Mako!?”
Stomach churning, his eyes snapped up, to meet the older eyes of his door-guarding partner. “Shen.”
The older man hesitated. “You. What are you doing here?” Disbelief and disappointment saturated the other man’s voice, enough to make the younger guard want to sink into the ground.
“I –” Thoughts spinning and watching the other guards grow nearer, Mako ran through all of the possible things he might say. In the end, all he could muster was, “I am here to aid the Mamoru.”
“The Mamoru,” the older man spat. “Did you not hear the alarm bells?” Mako was reminded how much Shen liked his warm bed and being home with his wife. He would not be happy to be kept from them regardless of the reason. “He attacked the Emperor. He attacked the guards. He brought violence into the palace, betraying his duty to the Emperor.”
Attacked the Emperor? But. He wouldn’t do that. The memory of a blade at his throat ran through his mind. What did he really know? His hesitation did him no favors, for in the space of those few shocked moments, the expression of disbelief on his partner’s face slid into anger.
“Traitor!” Shen snarled and his katana swept forward, a slashing arc that Mako barely had time to deflect.
“No!” The younger man’s denial fell on deaf ears, because by then the others were almost on them and it gave strength to Shen’s attack. Fielding another slash, Mako caught the other’s blade on his and shoved, putting all of his body weight behind it, pushing the other man into the oncoming group.
Chest tight with dismay and cursing under his breath, Mako grasped the girl’s arm and pulled, ignoring her protest while he called out. “Mamoru, we must go!” Though not acknowledged, the Protector must have heard him, because he backed up a few paces before deliv
ering a swift front kick, knocking his opponent back.
Then the three of them were running for Eiji Forest, with Mako praying that no one had found the horses he’d tied there.
˜ ˜ ˜
The cool caress of the leafy shade would have been a comfort to Theron, after what they’d just been through, if not for the shouts of the Imperial guards behind them, nor the danger in front of them that he would be a fool to ignore.
After reaching the trees, they’d taken a sharp turn into a less traveled area. After fifty feet or so, it opened up to a small clearing. The Protector could hear the sound of men charging through nearby, calling to each other. They ran past, missing where the three of them had turned off, but it wouldn’t be long before others came and then they might not be so lucky.
“Why are you here?” Theron demanded. The man in front of him was easy enough to recognize as the guard he’d left tied in the stables. He took in the linen shirt and rough work boots the larger man wore and it reminded him of how much work it had been getting the guard’s armor and shoes to fit. It looked like of the two of them, he’d had the easier task, the work boots were obviously too small and Theron gave the man credit for rushing into a battle without any protective armor.
That was what didn’t make sense. This man was an Imperial Guardsman. Obligated to capture him or at the least, must want revenge for the humiliation Theron had given him.
And the guard still hadn’t answered the question. “What are you playing at?” Theron’s voice sounded ragged in his own ears. He shook his head to bring color back into his vision. The fight a few minutes before, said that the guard seemed to be helping them. But that could be a lie and he needed to know, now, if the man was truly on their side. Theron knew that he couldn’t go much further.
Holding his dagger low in front of him, a warning, not quite a threat, he watched Mako eye the girl he had shoved behind him, before those narrowed eyes fell to the dagger. Vaguely, he felt the fingers of the girl behind him, reaching out to grab his arm. She was saying something, but he couldn’t quite hear it.
Splinter (Trapped Souls Book 1) Page 14
