by Jan Harman
“It was within my inherited and legal right to give.”
“You’re life—”
“I trust Olivia not to go too far.”
“You would do better not to trust an emotional young woman’s judgment above yours. The wrong word could bring lasting sorrow, injury, or even death.”
“I can control my actions.” I defended myself.
“I’m in control of the situation,” Shade retorted.
“When compelled by anger or another powerful emotion? In this matter, I speak not only of her emotional state but yours as well.” Fingers stroked engravings worn almost smooth. In a softer though no less stern voice she demanded, “What could’ve possessed you?”
“I answer to my warden.”
“This situation is to grave to hide behind that sentiment. You were meant for another path.”
He looked her directly in the eye. “I chose my path.”
This time, she got all the way to her feet. Both cane and hand began to shake while snow-white starburst consumed pale yellow rays. Fury made her voice quiver when she demanded, “Tell me or I will take the explanation.”
I was too busy watching the elderly lady’s cane shake and wondering if she was about to fall, to bother about the pulling and stretching sensation along the side of my left arm. I got that Shade had overstepped, but his grandmother’s reaction seemed overly harsh when all he’d done was join a police department. Hold on, she’d said something about a sworn protector. So did that mean Shade was the valley’s version of the Secret Service?
Both cane and hand graduated from out of focus to a blur. On the end table next to Shade, a coaster rattled and slid across the smooth surface, picking up speed until it shot across the room and clanged into the base of the floor lamp. I swung my head up, prepared to demand answers out of Shade. His lips were pulled back into a grimace. White chunks flung off thinning, spiraling bands in his telling eyes. Sister Willow whacked the leg of the coffee table with her cane, rattling teacups and sloshing the honey colored liquid over the rims.
“St—“ I caught myself in time. Face scrunching, I drew a deep breath. Only Shade would be obligated to stop. Now I understood how a word spoken without careful consideration could have serious consequences. I gritted my teeth. Darn them for leaving me to blunder about in my ignorance. The cane vanished. I gulped in a breath and tried again. “Sister Willow, please if it weren’t for Shade’s patience and friendship, I would’ve left the valley. Perhaps if we all sit down, we could discuss the ramifications of this oath.” Later, when we were alone, I’d let Shade know just how far he’d overstepped in making decisions involving both of us.
I headed for the sofa, stepping between Shade and his grandmother, hoping they would follow suit and take a seat. Spiky feeling air scratched across my left side. Startled, I tripped and banged my left knee hard on the corner of the end table. “Ow!” I cried out when it made a loud pop and buckled. Quite unexpectedly, springs squeaked and sofa cushions sagged beneath my weight.
For several delicious minutes pulses of heat melted the tight knots in my left thigh. I couldn’t help it; I sighed heavily. If this kept up much longer, I’d be the definition of a limp noodle. Someone coughed. Reality once again began sucking away my energy. Tiredly I blinked anxious faces into focus.
Immediately, Shade started. “Is your head an empty wasteland? Maybe you’re into pain and attention. Is that it? Do you want to have more surgeries?”
Aunt Claire elbowed him aside. “That’s enough.”
“Satisfied?” Shade shouted, rounding on his grandmother whose clear, bright eyes shrewdly observed the interplay.
“You’d raise your voice to me? I couldn’t have foreseen the girl’s foolishness.”
“Calm down, both of you. Olivia doesn’t understand,” Aunt Claire ordered, using my father’s no-nonsense, you’ve-crossed-the-line tone.
The muscle in Shade’s jaw pulsed once more before he got control of his temper. The moment he realized what he had accused me of, his head whipped towards the sofa, eying my reaction.
Sister Willow shook her cane at Shade, but took care to speak calmly when Aunt Claire held out a warning hand. “Clearly Olivia is too impulsive. She deliberately stepped in the way.”
“In the way of what?” I said before my aunt could reply. Once again I was muddling through a book that was missing its first few chapters. Fist clenched, I huffed a loud breath into the silence. “There wasn’t anything there. Besides, you were being unnecessarily hard on Shade. I’d prefer to discuss that.”
“Olivia, stay out of this.” The rustling of paper muffled Shade’s voice as he reached behind the magazine rack to dig out the coaster. “You get no say in the matter.”
“Since I seem to be in the middle of this dispute, I disagree. My dad taught me to stand up for my friends and for what I believe in. Other key life’s lessons he failed to address. We’ll get back to those.” I shot my aunt a meaningful look. Not that it would change anything.
I shifted my weight, trying to get comfortable and moaned. I could’ve sworn Shade’s eyes whitened when they locked onto mine. It took me a moment to remember what I’d planned to say and another breath to make sure I had enough air in my lungs to give my voice strength. “I meant what I said. I’d be a basket case if it wasn’t for you, Shade. I won’t repay your friendship by coming between you and your grandmother or your clan for that matter. Give me some credit. I can muddle through. Please, rescind your oath,” I asked, taking care not to issue an order.
“He can’t. Isn’t that correct, Shade?” A ghostly outline of Sister Willow’s cane spun between blurred fingers, whirring and whining to an uncomfortable pitch that made everyone grimace.
Abruptly, the cane stopped. A hand materialized with fingers curled around the marble knob. “Elder, the safety of our valley and our warden motivates my every action,” Shade said in a solemn tone before releasing the cane and stepping back.
“The oath hasn’t been issued in generations, for sound reasons that you chose to ignore. As your mentor, I must accept a measure of the blame. I’m guilty of fostering the notion that guidelines and rules are subjective for those of us with talent in the upper ranges. I see I failed to stress the folly of dismissing the prudent use of caution and restraint. Where I saw too easily rebellion in your twin, I mistook your disdain over limits and rulings as frustrated need to excel for the betterment of the valley. I made too many allowances for your drive. Now a young lady must pay the price for our egos.”
“It’s not like that,” Shade argued.
She raised a hand to silence him. “Let us speak the truth of your ill-conceived deeds, for this was no mere promise of friendship or loyalty. For starters, you arrogantly dismissed as insufficient the basic oath of service of a protector attached to the Protection Bureau. By embracing in all its capacity the Oath of the Warden’s Sworn Protector, you’ve ignored bureau procedures and the dictates of the council. Had you only stopped there, your excellent service would in time expunge this blemish to your status.” Her gaze briefly held my aunt’s before snapping back to him. “Once again, your ego ran unchecked. I find myself in the unenviable position of informing the warden and her heir that a clansman, my own grandson, has bestowed upon Olivia the Soul Oath, our most binding of oaths. Over time, its intertwining nature will enhance your perceptions and awareness of your charge, transforming you in ways I cannot imagine. Such arrogance may very well have ruined both of your lives. Should that happen, I shudder to imagine the consequences to our people.”
Spongy cushions and poking springs conspired to hinder my attempt to sit. I punched a cushion. Hot hands gripped my arms and helped me up. I shirked off Shade’s assistance, not wanting what he offered. “What about your life? Your dreams? Take it back. I won’t be responsible for this sacrifice.”
A mask of resolve settled over his face. “This sacrifice, as you call my life choice, is a noble endeavor dating back to a time when the soul of an individual was wei
ghed and valued.”
Aunt Claire went toe-to-toe with him even though he towered over her. “History disputes the nobility of your actions. I’ve been so busy warning off the elders that I failed to protect my niece from blind ambition. We’ve been betrayed.”
“Never!” Shade shouted. “You speak mostly of the days before Roland. Our need is great. The clans are splintering. We cannot risk losing our way or even one member to the harsh outside world. A great warden may be the only unifying factor that can help us reconnect.”
I rounded on him, my hands clenched into tight fists at my side. “Thanks for the jumbo size order of pressure served with a side order of guilt. I’ve got news for you. I don’t want someone to be so intimately aware of me. How dare you! I don’t want a bodyguard.” Shade stiffened in response to my common word for what he was offering. “That explains why you’re always hovering. I thought we were friends, but you’re no different than Mr. Cassidy,” I accused, my voice shaking as was I.
“You know that isn’t true,” Shade argued.
Everything I’d kept pent up came spilling out to be dumped on him. “What I know is that I’ve got a life I didn’t ask for. Congratulations, your performance was Oscar worthy. Now take your pity and your oath and get out!”
Aunt Claire gripped my arm to block my attempt to leave the sofa. “We need to sort this out,” she said over the sound of Sister Willow’s cane rapping hard on the floor.
I shook off her hand. “I want to go to my room and be left alone.”
The tip of the cane tapped my thigh and then pointed at Shade with his fingers digging into the corner of the sofa. “Young lady, release my grandson from your order before he hurts himself.”
Ugh! Naturally Shade hadn’t left. Talk about stubborn. One look from me and he staggered backwards until he banged into the railing for the stairs. Blurred features contorted in anguish. I winced and turned away, but it did no good. Next to me or across the valley, his unyielding loyalty wove threads of awareness that bound us together, forever. I was nowhere near ready to forgive this abuse of my rights, but I couldn’t cause him pain either.
“Shade, you can stay.” But I would have my answers before he left. “Why—”
I couldn’t ask him, yet. Not when he was rubbing his forehead and looking miserable as he circled around behind his grandmother’s chair. I waited—the words bursting to be asked—while he helped himself to a handful of cookies from the holiday plate on the coffee table. Churning seas lapped frothy waves against icebergs clustered near the center of his eyes. He stuffed two cookies into his mouth and turned to face his grandmother.
Sister Willow’s empty tea cup rattled against its saucer. Shade grimaced in response to something going on between them.
“Out loud,” Aunt Claire ordered. “Need I remind you both that I’m the warden?”
“Yes, of course,” Shade replied, pulling his gaze away from his grandmother’s scrutiny. “I only had a few minutes in Detective Lawson’s presence. The compulsion to act was eating away at the poor man. Clearly he’d been manipulated by someone quite skilled. To protect Olivia from her aunt and this valley the detective was prepared to turn her over to a nameless, faceless individual. To keep her docile, he unwittingly gave her a sedative that is toxic to our physiology. For all we know, the selection was deliberately implanted. Had Olivia ingested more of the sedative, she might have died out in that blizzard.”
“What happened to Detective Lawson?” I asked.
“We didn’t get to him in time. His will had been bent towards one and only one goal. Failure to think and act appropriately released preset parameters. He had to drive off the cliff.”
I gasped and felt myself shaking. “And you wonder why my dad kept me away?”
“Now you see why I took those oaths,” he said grimly.
“We don’t practice such techniques,” Sister Willow answered, staring into her empty tea cup, twirling around her right, middle finger a gold band with a heart-shaped diamond.
“Then why have a Protectors Bureau? Why did Shade take those oaths if I’m not safe?”
“You will be, I’ll make sure,” Shade said, earning an arched brow from his grandmother. “I brought my observations to my bureau chief. Several worthy candidates considered taking the Warden’s Oath of Protection. Sister Willow would’ve preferred them for the same reasons that would’ve made you unhappy. With at least fifteen years on you, they wouldn’t fit into your life.”
“So you felt obligated because we’re close to the same age. What a relief to the others. They managed to avoid being stuck with a silly, distraught teenager.” That reminded me of something he’d said. I scooted forward, my hands gripping the edge of the sofa. “That first day of work when you drove me home that was no offer of assistance. You’ve been my sworn protector since. You used the incident with the detective to re-open the topic to cover your ass.”
“I knew your brother,” he said unexpectedly. His eyes turned sad and distant, and he began to pace in front of the coffee table, scrubbing his blurred hands up and down his arms. “It’s more—” He shoved his sleeves up and rubbed harder. “You’re more, everything is more. For years I’ve wondered, dreaded, trained.” He shook out his hands and thrust them into his pockets. “I can do this.”
“Shade, you carry too much. You need to let this go.” A low hum emanated off his grandmother and she reached out a hand that he ignored. “You’re worrying me. Let me take up your sorrow.”
He paused next to the rocking chair. “No, it’s more than sorrow. It’s a part of me. A part that can only be shared with one person,” he answered, moving away to resume his pacing. This time he circled around behind my aunt’s chair, touching her briefly on the shoulder as he continued towards the sofa.
The sadness he carried weighed down his words so when he spoke to me, every third word or so caught in his throat before tumbling out, roughening up his drawl. “Danny and I were practically inseparable when he came for his training sessions. It was my senior year when he crashed his car. Like usual, one of Shadow’s pranks had gotten the both of us in trouble and grounded. We should’ve been with Danny.”
Even though I’d understood that I was the person who could share his burden, I wasn’t ready for him to suddenly sit down on the edge of the coffee table with our knees almost touching. His left hand vibed unsteadily as it slid down his thigh. I closed the distance wanting to give him comfort. “You blame yourself?” I asked, my heart breaking as though I shared in his remembered grief.
“I do. We have the faster reflexes, and we were a year older. When I heard that Danny wasn’t going to make it, I snuck into the clinic to say goodbye. They had him drugged up for the pain. I didn’t think he knew I was there. I tried to help him the only way I knew by sharing his sorrow, but my emotional distress crumbled the connection. I broke down like a little kid, and Danny squeezed my hand, offering me comfort,” Shade said, his voice breaking up. “Next thing I knew, Danny was rambling urgently about something on the road. The sheriff said he’d swerved to avoid a deer, so I thought nothing of it. That is until recent events. Then his words began to haunt me.”
I envisioned Danny’s body broken like mine had been. I wished I’d been there for him. Were my parents concerned even back then? Is that why my mom and I had stayed away so she could keep me safe? And now? I drew my hands back. “Was I that pathetic when I arrived? One oath wasn’t good enough. You felt it necessary to bind our lives.”
“I didn’t act upon a whim. You’re not the only one whose life got turned upside down. Danny insisted upon a pledge to serve and protect his little sister. At the time, I thought his fear of dying was the driving force behind his demand. He was my friend, and it would ease his passing.”
“Daniel didn’t intend for you to indebt your life,” Sister Willow admonished.
Shade’s left index finger traced the oval shaped diamond on the ring he wore on his right middle finger until the tip of his finger faded from sight. �
��You misunderstand the situation. Danny knew I’d only agreed because I was upset. He became insistent, weakening himself to hold on to our joining. A Grisland doesn’t turn down so important of a request from a Pepperdine. Shall I be the first to break faith? As our forefather once did, I took in Daniel’s Soul Spell.”
Color drained out of Aunt Claire’s cheeks. “His request was that powerful?”
“It brought me to my knees. I had no thoughts, save his,” Shade admitted. “For Danny, I vowed to make sure by any means necessary that I was in a position to befriend and safeguard his little sister from the factions agitating this valley. Admission into the ranks of the Protectors Bureau seemed a logical use of my talents while satisfying my pledge. I envisioned the use of my considerable skills as a liaison to our people. The council would resolve the issues between the factions long before his sister became warden. Current events altered my ambitions. I had no intention of allowing someone with skills inferior to mine to stand watch in these uncertain times. Those with issues would find me quite the effective stopgap until our heir was ready to assume her full duties. While Olivia was in a coma, I began the necessary requirements to become the Warden’s Sworn Protector. I performed the final step shortly after her arrived in the valley.”
The polished marble knob quivered. “Grandson, you should’ve come to me before committing yourself to this path.”
“Despite the objections of my clan, I progressed through the ranks of the elite Protector’s Bureau at a record’s pace, achieving accommodations along the way. My vibe level is above that of all the other protectors in the program. Yet, I wasn’t going to be considered for the coveted Sworn Protector’s position,” he said, staring pointedly at his grandmother. “While the council members debated and grappled for power, their delays jeopardized Olivia’s life and the security of this valley, so I took action.”
