Guardian of the Fountain

by Jennifer Bryce

  The man fumbled with the door handle and escaped back into the Escalade. The tires peeled out as it sped away, spitting loose gravel.

  All of Brant’s muscles balled into tension, ready to attack at a moment’s notice. His hands clamped into fists so tight that his knuckles were turning white.

  No one will come into my city and hurt my people or my Chrissie. He wanted to punch something and watch it crumble beneath him. His hand shook with fury. The anger surging through his body could easily kill a drug cartel member without a bit of remorse. This was his territory.

  * * *

  From her spot lying on the cement, Chrissie spied two large bloodstains seeping through his crisp white button-up shirt.

  “He’s been shot,” she whispered. Her nursing instincts kicked in. She jumped up from the ground and ran to Brant. Pushing him to the shade of the building in the alley, she began tearing off his shirt, buttons flying like the bullets moments ago.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” Brant exclaimed as he held his arms out in surrender.

  “You’ve been shot. We have to stop the bleeding.” Chrissie had completely taken off his shirt.

  “If I’d known it was this easy to get you to rip off my clothes . . .” Brant smiled. “Help, someone! Please help. This beautiful woman is ripping off all my clothes.” He feigned being victimized. “Your hands are cold.” He laughed.

  He is enjoying his clothes being ripped off way too much.

  “Shut up! There’s an entry wound up here in your left shoulder, and one in the lower right quadrant of your abdomen.” As soon as she said “abdomen” the bloody hole sealed shut to a puffy pink line. The line soon faded before her eyes. “You were shot twice. Now they’re gone! They just vanished.” Chrissie looked down at her bloody hands in disbelief.

  “You weren’t supposed to see that.” Brant picked up his white shirt off the ground and pulled it back on. “I drank the water.”

  Chapter 12

  “I feel like a complete idiot,” Chrissie said as a few unwanted tears trickled down her cheeks. She angrily wiped them away as she turned her back to him and faced the wall. “You have all been lying to me.” She walked away from him to the overturned table and began picking up her unfinished lunch from the ground.

  Brant followed closely behind her. He put the table right-side up and put all its spilled contents back on top. “I’ll try to explain, if you will let me.” He laid his hands on her shoulders, and she immediately shrugged them off.

  “Don’t touch me! I don’t know who you are!” She wrapped her arms around her stomach. “What am I doing here?” Tears slipped down her cheeks, and her breathing started to pick up pace. “I’m stuck. If I leave, I die, but everyone is keeping secrets from me.” The edges of her vision blurred. “I’m sorry…”

  * * *

  “Chrissie?” Brant caught her as she crumpled in his arms. “Darling?” Brant picked her up and ran with her across the street to the clinic. He kicked open the door. “Dr. Wilson!” he yelled.

  Dr. Wilson came out of his office and saw Brant carrying Chrissie. “Put her on the bed in there.” He pointed to an empty room and followed Brant in.

  Brant laid Chrissie on the bed as Dr. Wilson began checking her from head to toe. He opened her eyelids and shone his penlight into them. “Tell me what happened.”

  Brant began pacing the tiny room and raked his hands through his hair as he tried to think about the details of the incident. “We were eating lunch at the café. Then the drug cartel came around the corner and shot at us, but she wasn’t hit. I was, twice. She flew into nurse mode and was trying to check me, and saw me heal right before her eyes. It happened so quickly that I forgot that she didn’t remember about me. Then she got all worked up about how we had lied to her.”

  “She must have had quite a shock. I think she fainted.” Dr. Wilson broke open a vial of smelling salts and held it under her nose. “Chrissie.” He softly patted her cheeks.

  Chrissie’s eyes blinked open. “My head hurts. What happened?”

  “You fainted on your lunch date with Brant.”

  “Oh…Do you know about him?” Chrissie didn’t look over to Brant, but kept her eyes on Dr. Wilson.

  “Yes, some.” Dr. Wilson rubbed his forehead. “I think we’ve been set back a little bit. I was right. Your body can’t handle too much stress.” He turned to speak to Brant, “I think you need to get her home and into the water as soon as possible.”

  Brant walked out into the empty lobby and called Arturo on a cell phone. “I messed up. She knows. I need you to come get her from the clinic. I don’t think she’ll come home with me.” He hung up before Arturo could respond.

  Within a few minutes, Arturo pulled up in the trusty blue Datsun. Chrissie climbed into the passenger side and slammed the door. She sat quietly, staring off in the opposite direction from Brant.

  “She’s really mad,” Arturo glumly commented.

  “I should’ve known she would be. She hates secrets. I’m going back for my car. I’ll meet you at the mansion.” Brant turned and stalked back toward the clinic parking lot to his truck.

  * * *

  Arturo drove quietly to the mansion.

  “He’s the Guardian, isn’t he?” Chrissie thought out loud.

  “Sí,” Arturo softly replied.

  “The Guardian, the man in the hall, and the person who sent for me are all Brant?”

  “Sí.” Arturo kept his eyes on the road.

  “Why does he care so much about me?”

  “That is something he will have to tell you. I won’t even mess with the blindfold anymore.” Arturo drove much faster than he had on the way down. Chrissie could see the tension lines on his face, but he was silent for the rest of the ride.

  From the base of the mountain, the dirt road wound up fifteen minutes into the jungle until it reached a waterfall. Arturo inched the car close to the side of the mountain and slid the car behind the waterfall and through a dark cave for about two hundred feet and back out the other side into the light. The road continued on for another thirty minutes, and then the mansion came into view out on a cliff.

  As they pulled into the garage, Chrissie noticed the truck that had been there before was gone. She jumped out of the Datsun before Arturo had time to open her door and went into the mansion, running up the stairs and into her room. She slammed the door shut and flopped down on her bed. She heard a truck door close, then muffled voices from downstairs. She buried her head into the pillow and screamed in frustration.

  A soft knock sounded at the door. “Mija? Are you okay?” María’s voice sounded concerned.

  “I’m fine,” Chrissie lied, but so had everyone else, she rationalized.

  María opened the door and sat next to Chrissie on the bed. “Mija, you should come down and talk to Brant. He is trying to get the courage to talk to you.” María smoothed down Chrissie’s hair. “Men—the biggest bebés I know.” She sighed. “He is completely broken.”

  “Everyone has been keeping secrets from me. I’m tired of being left in the dark.” Tears streamed down Chrissie’s cheeks, “I came here on blind faith. I trusted all of you! I need answers now. Something to hold on to.” She grabbed her pillow and squeezed it tight into her chest.

  “Follow me.” María peeled Chrissie off the bed and pulled her down the hall and down the stairs. The library doors were open. Arturo sat quietly in a chair. Brant sat in a large leather office chair with his head down on the desk.

  María and Chrissie entered the room, and he stood up behind his desk. “Chrissie,” he whispered. His eyes lit up at the sight of her.

  “Brant has something he wants to say to you, mija,” María began. “It might come as a shock.”

  “It would be hard to beat what I just saw.” Chrissie sat down in front of the desk in an armchair. She felt like she was getting ready for a job interview. Brant walked around the desk and knelt down at her feet, not touching her. His sorrowful eyes looked up at her, begging he
r for mercy.

  “Chrissie, it’s going to be hard to explain … but here it goes. I’m the Guardian.”

  “I figured that out.” Chrissie folded her arms across her chest unhappily. “Why were you pretending not to know me? Did you know me?”

  “Yes, I know you very well, and I did it because you didn’t remember me. I figured I had to start all over again.” Brant’s eyes searched hers. “The doctor said he didn’t want to stress you out with anything that might disturb you. We saw what happened when you did get some startling news.”

  “You could’ve just said we were friends, and I would’ve believed you.” Chrissie looked down into her lap.

  “But we were more than just chums,” Brant breathed in a soft whisper.

  “We liked … liked each other?” Her eyes shot up to his.

  “Really liked,” Brant affirmed.

  “For how long?” Chrissie purposely kept the emotion off her face. On one hand, she was relieved that he did this all because he cared for her, and let’s face it—she wanted him to care for her. But she was angry that he’d withheld large, important pieces of information. She couldn’t show him how much havoc this was creating inside her brain. That would give him too much power. Her last relationship was ruined because of her boyfriend’s lying. Brant didn’t really lie, but he hadn’t told her the truth, either. She’d known deep down inside that he was more than just a gardener—he was something special.

  “Six months.”

  “Wow! I had a relationship longer than a two-month streak. Well, the relationship with Trey doesn’t count because obviously, he wasn’t committed. It’s a shame I don’t remember any of it.” She shook her head in utter disbelief, suddenly happy she’d had romance at one time. Then the brick of reality hit her stomach as she realized it was her past, and she didn’t remember a single iota of the previous six months.

  “It was magical.” Brant sat down on the edge of his sturdy desk. “You got sick, went back to the States, and forgot about me.”

  “So … do you know what happened to me?” Chrissie searched his face for any hints of the past.

  “Arturo thinks you took the orange vial.” Brant nodded over to where Arturo sat

  “What orange vial?” Chrissie turned slowly in her chair to face Arturo.

  María, Arturo, and Brant all pulled out a leather cord from around their necks that was hidden under their clothes. Two vials hung from the end. One was clear water, and the other was an orange powder.

  “The orange powder kills you as soon as it touches your lips. If by chance you were compromised, and you were being forced to tell the secret, you had the choice to ‘opt out,’ so to speak,” Brant explained.

  “To die before you told the secret?” Chrissie wondered in amazement.

  “Right. Arturo thinks you took the orange vial in order to keep the secret safe.” Brant returned his necklace to its hiding place under his shirt.

  “I had a necklace with the two vials on it. I took the orange one, and didn’t die? What secret is so important that you would die for it?”

  “Exactly. What is in the clear vial is worth dying for. Many people have died for it.” Brant’s expression softened around his eyes.

  “Water?” Chrissie said incredulously.

  “Not just any water. I have to show you for you to understand.” Brant pulled Chrissie up and escorted her to a bookcase. All the books in these shelves were about different species of flowers and plants. He tipped out a book called Rosaceae and then moved over to a book in the next bookcase with a book titled Ponce De León in gold leafing on the spine and tipped it out on its side too. The two bookcases slid and shifted revealing a dark staircase spiraling down.

  Cool air rushed through the dark cavern that held so many secrets, inviting Chrissie to come and unlock them. An adventure awaited her, but did she trust someone who had lied so many times to lead her down into a dark cave? Her curiosity outweighed her fear, and she decided to take the chance to find the answers.

  Brant took one of the three electric lanterns off a hook, turned it on, and waited for it to buzz to life. “Come on. Let’s go.” Chrissie followed Brant while María and Arturo stayed behind, their faces revealing nothing.

  * * *

  They descended the metal spiral staircase. She held on to the railing. Their steps echoed in the darkness surrounding them. The lantern only lit a few feet around them, and Chrissie was having a hard time judging how expansive this cave was. She smelled damp earth as they went deeper and deeper into the cave. The cool air was refreshing in comparison to the warm, tropical humidity of Venezuela. Finally, they stepped off the last step onto hard-packed earth deep underground.

  Brant looked down at her for a moment before asking, “May I hold your hand? It’s dark down here, and I don’t want you tripping.”

  “I guess.” She shrugged. She didn’t want him to think she had forgiven him for the secrecy.

  He guided her through the tunnel that loomed in front of them. Chrissie tensed. She didn’t remember ever holding his hand—what an intimate thing it was. The sensation felt foreign to her.

  Trey never did that. He said he wasn’t much for public affection. Chrissie didn’t ask Trey for any affection because he had pressed the sex issue way too much, making her uncomfortable more often than she could count. Now here she was, almost liking the awareness of his large, rough hand around hers. It made her feel dainty and wanted.

  The darkness tunneled for a distance before Chrissie felt a slight ramp beneath her feet. She mindlessly followed Brant, trying to ignore the senses their entwined fingers were stirring up, until he abruptly stopped and she slammed into his back.

  “Sorry.” Chrissie’s voice echoed down the hall. “I wasn’t paying attention.” Truth be told, she was secretly off in La La Land. Now here she was, feeling slightly wicked, holding a man’s hand that she couldn’t ever remember having a relationship with.

  Brant chuckled. “I should’ve warned you. Just a sec while I open the door.” The short, wide door looked very old and had large ironworks holding it together. It creaked open, and light brilliantly blazed through the doorway. On the other side, a warm, moist summer scent crept through the open door into the dark.

  Trepidation filled her stomach. Should I be scared of what’s on the other side? Whatever was past the door felt like a huge step out of reality.

  Brant had to duck to go through the door. The light on the other side was blinding. As Chrissie stepped into the light and her eyes began to adjust, vibrant colors materialized, filling every space. She was standing in a garden paradise. The smell of fresh greens and tropical flowers greeted them at the door. Flowers of every variety crowded, spilling out onto grassy pathways. Rich, dark soil peeked through the edges of the flowerbeds. A bright red macaw perched up in a branch above them. The garden was perfectly manicured, and she thought that this is what heaven should be like.

  “I tend to everything in this garden. It sits in the base of an inactive volcano. The volcano walls keep it from being seen by the outside world. But the most important part of the garden lies in its center.” Brant beamed like he was showing her his pride and joy. “People think this volcano is a mountain. It makes the perfect secluded spot to hide a secret.”

  The mansion wasn’t really built on the side of a mountain but on an ancient, inactive volcano?

  He led Chrissie down a grassy path. She didn’t know what to focus on. There were so many things she wanted to take a closer look at and explore, such as the stone ruins built into the walls and the gold dragon-like creatures peeking out from the vegetation in the cliffs. Hidden treasures lay just behind overgrown vines and enormous blossoms. Every inch of the space seemed to be a story waiting to be told.

  Chrissie could hear water trickling in the distance.

  “I finally get to show you this.”

  “I didn’t see it already?” Chrissie asked, confused.

  “No, the most important part is just a few steps away. I w
as going to bring you here before you got sick.” Excitement began to build in Brant’s voice.

  As they rounded a heavily flowered corner, a deep pool of crystal-clear blue water stretched out before them. Water shot out of a rock face, splashing into the pool below, aerating the water. Chrissie could see all the way to the bottom of the volcanic crater, where water bubbled up from the bottom of the pool. The pool itself was twice as big as an Olympic-sized swimming pool, and was just as deep.

  The air hung heavy with an invisible cloud of magic. It pulsed like it was a living thing and the water was its blood. She could almost hear a chant with the rhythm of the water.

  “You are now looking at the Fountain of Youth,” Brant said as he presented it with his arms stretched out wide, almost like a proud father.

  “Like the one in Florida? With the theme park and all?” Her joke fell flat. It almost seemed irreverent to comment in such a manner. She immediately felt remorseful.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” she apologized to whatever spirits or magic protected the fountain.

  “No, this is the real fountain. The very one kings and queens sent explorers to find. But they never found it—just legends. The Indians here kept it a secret until a Spanish priest was introduced to it by the natives. He had won over their affection and trust after he wandered into their village, sick, and they healed him. He promised to keep the secret and guard it from harm. That was in the year 1706. He tended to the garden and built the mansion with the aid of the Indians.”

  “That’s quite a story. I would say you’re crazy, but I saw your bullet wounds heal before my eyes. How did you become the Guardian?”

  “I left my home in England when I was sixteen to work on a merchant ship. It sailed here, carrying supplies. I came down sick with a fever and was on my deathbed when the father found me in the village. He brought me back to the mansion and healed me. The ship left me here, and so I stayed and worked for Father Delgado alongside María and Arturo. They were both children when the father came to the village. I was somewhat still a child when he found me too. We’ve been raised here by Father Delgado. I miss him almost every day.”