Nolan swallowed hard, remembering how violently Kael had beaten Emery. Did Kael blame Emery for his current situation? How much of his brother’s anger was fueled by the king’s abuse? The insults. The violence. It explained more than Nolan wished it did, especially how much Kael had changed. He’d been so angry at Kael for all his arrogance and self-righteous indignation. But now, he realized Kael was just another victim of the king. His frustration and disgust for his brother washed away in a rush. Poor Kael.
“Does the king only desire men?” Nolan asked, his voice shaking.
“No. It’s the power to control. Whether man or woman, it makes little difference to him. Alec would be a prime target as well,” Emery continued. “Bringing the boy along saved him from a far worse fate than becoming a Rol’dan. And from the strength of your power, determination, and leadership, you chose the right path to hide your Shay. The king would’ve favored you … very much.”
Me? Favored me? His stomach lurched. Then the rest of what Emery had said came to focus. Strength? Determination? Leadership? He snorted. Emery didn’t know what he was talking about.
Emery studied Nolan, sorrow embedded in his brown eyes. “There are qualities in you. Not many have been able to resist my influence. And you convinced not just one, but three people to leave the Rol’dan.”
“I only spoke with Alec. I had nothing to do with the others.”
“Yet when Alec mentioned you, they followed,” Emery said.
Nolan shook his head. “I didn’t do anything.”
Emery put a hand on Nolan’s shoulder. “Many times, the most humble people make the greatest leaders of all.”
They remained in silence as the sunlight faded completely. Emery reclined on the floor and pulled the blanket to his chin. After several minutes, Emery’s chest rose and fell with his steady breathing. Nolan, however, couldn’t sleep.
He drifted off, and horrific images of Kael forced into submission clouded his dreams. Then, without warning, Kael would transform into Emery. Then Alec. Then Megan. Then himself.
Nolan gasped and sat up. Morning. A jolt shot through his shoulder, probably from slinging and sleeping on the hard floor.
The new sun peered through the top of the temple, casting colorful Shay lights on the floor. The circle, which held the blue Accuracy light, flickered softly with each passing cloud.
Emery had already woken and stood under the orange light of Perception. His shoulders were slumped, his eyes closed, and his face contorted into an expression of agony.
“Emery?”
His eyes fluttered open. “Ah, you’re awake. I’d ask how you slept, but your restless night already told me; I felt torment coming from your dreams.” He furrowed his brows. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Nolan said. “I’m glad you told me. Though I don’t know what to think of the Rol’dan anymore.”
“It does change one’s opinion of them, even if slightly. And it makes it much more difficult to consider destroying them,” Emery said. “That’s why we need to defeat the king before others fall into the same trap. The Rol’dan make you forget who you are. Being one of them inflames everything depraved about yourself you didn’t know existed.”
“And the stones might help, somehow?”
Emery sighed. “I don’t know. However, the happiness of our village is as stake without them. And if we can restore our full abilities, we might have a better chance to defeat him … somehow.”
Defeat the king and … A spark of hope flared in Nolan. Perhaps we can save Kael after all.
Emery stretched and walked toward the entrance with slow, dragging steps. “I need to return. Garrick is probably fuming.” He hesitated. “Are you coming? Or perhaps you might like a few minutes alone?”
“A moment would be great.”
“If you don’t make it back in time for us to leave—”
“I will,” Nolan interrupted, feeling a little embarrassed. “I promised Megan—”
“Ah, yes,” Emery said, smiling. “Then I’ll see you shortly.”
After Emery left, Nolan paced, his thoughts lingering on Kael and Emery’s dark past. Then he remembered Megan and the fact Emery said she liked him.
Nolan’s daydreaming ended abruptly when he considered the stones. What if they were calling—not only to the village—but to the Rol’dan as well? The things could be their salvation and ruin at the same time. What if they lead the Rol’dan here? His chest tightened. No wonder Emery was pushing himself in the light. They needed to find the stones first!
Nolan stepped into the light of Accuracy, letting the blue lines flicker across his skin. He didn’t need it anymore—not since he first stepped into it—but he liked it anyway. His Shay swelled, and he savored the pulsing power.
Reluctantly, Nolan left the light. He needed to return before Emery and Megan departed. He flung his pack over his shoulder, walked past the light of Perception, and paused.
Curious, he held his hand into it; the orange symbol illuminated his palm. Wiggling his fingers, his Shay spoke to this foreign beam. It felt different than Accuracy. Not bad, just different. A comfortable, warm sensation. Like an old friend.
The ancient text had said each light was a part of Brim. Were they bound to each other? Yes, of course. Why else would Emery’s stone call louder when he stepped into the light of these?
Nolan glanced around. Finding himself alone, he stepped into the orange light. It tugged inside him. He waited, letting the unfamiliar glow of Perception pulse deep within. Just when he was about to step out of the glow, the tips of his fingers twitched, and his heartbeat quickened. Tingling spread through his palms.
Nolan clenched his fists, tremors overtaking his arms. He threw back his head and screamed as the light of Perception exploded inside him. Lights and sensations drifted into nothingness, and the temple dimmed before his eyes.
Chapter Twenty-Two
NOLAN STEPPED INTO a sea of white mist. It curled around his legs and filled his vision. Mind racing, he pushed aside one thick cloud only to have another take its place. It covered reality in a formless shroud.
He walked faster, unable to see his feet, as he searched the infernal fog. With each step, his heart jolted: Would the next step be off a cliff? Would another step equal death? Yet he pressed on, searching. The fog closed in.
Finally, in the distance, he saw a shape. With breathless excitement, Nolan ran toward it and stopped abruptly. A man towered out of the whiteness, as tall as a living monument, standing like Brim himself.
Nolan closed his eyes and pressed the heels of his hands into his sockets. When he opened them, the man was still there.
Nearly twice Nolan’s size, the man’s muscled arms crossed over a massive, plate-covered chest. His armor glistened pure gold and shimmered with hidden light. The bracers strapped to his thick arms, and the intricately decorated greaves on his legs, appeared to be gold as well. He looked down at Nolan. Tight, brown curls hung down his face, framing his square jaw. But the most unnerving feature of the man was his eyes: Where normal eye sockets should’ve been, white light shone.
Nolan swallowed. “Are you …?”
“Brim?” His voice rumbled. “No.”
“What are you?” Nolan asked in a breathless whisper.
He blinked slowly, studying Nolan with his light-filled eyes. “I would ask the same of you.”
Nolan jerked back. “Me? I’m only a human.”
“Are you?” One side of the warrior’s mouth turned up.
Despair filled Nolan. “Crows! Did I … die?”
The warrior chuckled. “You are not dead.”
Both relief and confusion flooded him. If he hadn’t died, what happened? And if this wasn’t Brim, then who—or what—was he?
Nolan gasped as realization hit him. Alec had described him: a warrior glowing with light. And Jared had given him a name. “You’re a Guardian!”
The smile left the warrior’s face. “No. Not anymore.”
The mis
t circled, surrounding them in a white tunnel. Steadily, it increased in speed, so much so it appeared solid and whole.
“What’s happening?” Nolan asked.
“Our time is up.”
“Time? What time?”
“You must return.”
The tunnel increased its speed like a tornado as it darkened from white to gray.
“Please. Who are you? Do you have a name?”
The warrior took a step back into the swirling tunnel. “I am Greer.”
He disappeared, and with him his light, leaving Nolan in darkness. Then faint voices pierced through it. They were familiar somehow, and grew louder and clearer.
“Any change?”
“No.”
“You can’t do anything?”
“I’ve tried,” a woman’s voice said. “There’s nothing physically wrong with him.”
Nolan gasped, filling his lungs with air. The overpowering smell of bacon surrounded him. His eyes flew open, but everything was unfocused. He closed them quickly as the blurry images swam.
A soft, warm bed hugged him. Opening his eyes again, several people stood over him, but he couldn’t see clearly enough to recognize them.
“He’s awake!”
“Thank Brim.”
Nolan opened his mouth to speak, but it was dry as wool.
“Relax, Nolan,” Alec’s familiar voice said. “Here, have a drink.”
Alec placed an arm under Nolan and pulled him up, pouring a small amount of water down his dry throat. Nolan gagged. It tasted like dirt.
“What happened?” Nolan finally croaked.
“Don’t know,” Alec said. “Daren heard your scream from the temple nearly three days ago. At first, we thought you were dead. Your heart was still beating, but you only took a breath every minute or two.”
Three days? No. That’s impossible.
“We’ve been trying to figure out what happened,” Alec continued.
Nolan closed his eyes, trying to remember. The last thing he recalled was white mist and the Guardian. He exhaled, pushing back the rising panic. No. The Guardian had obviously been a dream.
“We should send someone out to tell Emery and the others you’re all right,” Alec said. “They left the day after we found you, although it took a lot of convincing to get Megan to move.”
“I need my spectacles,” Nolan said.
“Your spectacles?” Alec said, a strange tone to his voice.
Nolan touched his nose, but the frames were already resting there. His heart raced so strongly, it hammered in his ears.
“Nolan, what’s wrong?”
“I … I can’t see. Where am I?” He flung the covers aside and tried to stand.
“Sit,” Alec said. “You’re at my place. Taryn, can you look at his eyes?”
“I’ve already looked at him at least twenty times,” she said. “Like I said before, there’s nothing wrong with him.”
Nolan slumped. His eyes were poor before, but now he was practically blind! “I need to go.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Alec said. “At least, not until we know you’re all right. Crows, man. We thought you died.”
Nolan shook his head. It felt funny. “I just want to go.”
“Bonty’s been cooking,” Taryn said. “You need to eat.”
A door opened as if on cue, and the large silhouette of Bonty entered, followed by the smell of bacon and eggs.
Nolan’s stomach lurched. “No. Not now.”
“All right, love.” Bonty patted Nolan on the arm and slid the tray onto the nearby table. “I’ll leave it here in case you change your mind.”
A wave of nausea swept over him. He jumped to his feet, pushing past Alec toward the door. “I need air.”
“I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” Alec called.
The sunlight hit Nolan’s face like a torch; he slammed his eyes shut.
“He shouldn’t be by himself,” Taryn said.
“I’ll give him a few minutes, then follow him,” Alec replied.
Nolan cracked his eyes, looking for Alec and Taryn. He started. He was alone.
“What a shame,” Bonty said. “He didn’t eat a thing.”
“He said he wasn’t feeling well.”
“He might just need some time.”
“I’ll bring him something later today,” Bonty said. “Poor dear.”
A baby cried … somewhere. Then birds chirped, as if they sat on Nolan’s shoulder. Too loud! He clamped his hands over his ears, but it made little difference. So many noises jumbled together. It was hard to sort out. What in Darkness is happening to me?
Blurred trees swayed before his vision. He ripped off the useless spectacles and gasped. In breathtaking, sudden clarity, everything came into perfect focus. He could make out fine lines on the bark of a nearby tree. A parade of ants marched along the branch. And in the practice field, a group of people pulled back their bows. He could even hear the twang of their bowstrings.
Then Nolan felt his Shay power emerging; however, it wasn’t the Shay he knew.
Chapter Twenty-Three
NOLAN LOST TRACK OF TIME. He couldn’t sleep—sounds were too loud. He couldn’t eat—food tasted worse than dung, not that he had the motivation to eat anyway. Sunlight finally didn’t blind him, not that he wanted to emerge from his hole. He’d finally found a place he could show his Accuracy after two years of being a hermit. And now … He took a long, shallow breath. And now he had to hide again.
Nolan held the mirror, watching orange light flare in his eyes. He focused and listened to a nest of birds twittering outside. Pulling back, the orange light faded under the surface of his normal blue. He could hear the birds, though not as clearly as before. He ran a shaking hand over his chin. Learning control was exhausting.
He switched to Accuracy, its familiar presence taking hold. The orange light changed to sapphire blue. Summoning Perception again and leaving Accuracy in place, his eyes turned from blue to a strange gray with hints of blue and orange flaring around the pupils. Two powers at the same time? Crows. What was he going to do?
When he’d hidden Accuracy, his naturally blue eyes covered his mistakes. The orange light wouldn’t cooperate that way.
He focused on Perception again and, instead of the birds, he listened to the world outside his self-imprisonment. People carried out day-to-day activities, oblivious to Nolan’s struggles. Then he heard footsteps, closer than the others. He put down the mirror, focusing on hushed conversation approaching.
“Do you think he’ll talk to us?” Taryn’s voice said.
“He’d better,” Alec’s voice replied. “He’s locked himself in there for a week now. I’ll get him out of that house if I have to drag him out.”
Nolan hid both Shays and took a slow, calming breath. He waited for the knock before opening the door.
“Hey there, Nolan,” Alec said a bit too casually. “Mind if we come in?”
Nolan forced a smile and motioned for them to enter. The combined smell of metal and lavender followed them.
“We haven’t seen you for a while,” Taryn said.
A scraping sound drew Nolan’s attention. She rubbed a trim of fabric on her dress.
“How are your eyes doing?” Alec asked.
“Better,” Nolan said, leaving out the fact his vision was now perfect.
Taryn studied Nolan. “You don’t look so good. Have you eaten anything?”
“A little,” he admitted. “I’ll try to do better.”
A satisfied smile played across her face.
“Bonty can bring you something,” Alec said. “I’m spoiled with her staying so close. She cooks for us every day.”
“No, thanks. Unless it’s some fruit or something.”
Nolan waited for them to speak, to see how Alec would “drag him out of here.”
Alec shifted his weight to his other leg. “I’ve been thinking …”
“Yes?”
“What do you think about
learning to fight? You know, just some sparring. Nothing too intense.”
“Spar?”
“With swords.”
Nolan laughed. “So as soon as I’m feeling better, you want to kill me?”
“Oh, come now.” Alec smirked. “I’ll go easy on you.”
Nolan was sick of wallowing behind closed doors, sick of staring at his pathetic reflection while practicing his lying again. He’d have to come out eventually; otherwise, people would start thinking he was crazy. He’d also gotten a decent grasp on hiding his new Perception, shoving it away in the same internal box with his Accuracy Shay. He straightened and inhaled deeply. “Sure. Why not,” he answered. He needed a distraction. Getting thumped by Alec would more than accomplish that goal.
***
Alec lied; he hadn’t gone easy on Nolan at all.
It was his own fault, though. Nolan had taken to sword fighting quite well.
Defense movements had structure and order. An opponent moved, and a set of responses followed. Nolan quickly memorized the series of blocks and strokes Alec taught him, then, of course, he let his Accuracy execute them with perfection.
“Well done,” Alec said as they finished another round with wooden practice swords. “I haven’t seen anyone catch on to basic defensive moves so quickly. But, I suppose, cheating does make things easier.” Alec mopped his face with a cloth.
“Cheating?” Nolan put a hand to his chest.
“Of course.” Alec grinned. “I’m not the one using my Shay power, am I?”
He pushed back a smile. “I can’t shut it off if I tried. In the manor, I’d use it for writing, hours at a time. I’m sure your Speed flares now and then. Maybe when you’re working at the forge or sparring with your father or me?”
Alec laughed. “Don’t tell me that! I thought I’d finally bested my father because of my skills alone.” He snatched two swords from the ground and tossed one at Nolan.
Nolan caught it and shot Alec a skeptical glance.
“It’s time we used steel.”
Taryn, who had been sitting on the grass watching them, groaned. Up until now, she’d only healed a few bruises from the wooden swords, or soothed the sore muscles from Nolan’s shoulders after he could hardly move.
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