Guardian of Honor

by Robin D. Owens

  Alexa saw an opening. Escape!

  It was a bright hole with rainbow traces. Panting in terror, she kicked with all her might, connected with the monster, ducked, rolled, spun, struggled to the hole and plunged into it feet-first. The last thing she saw was a huge red mouth and teeth dripping yellow spit. She didn't know if the beast growled in fury or tried to bite her head off. Or both.

  The hole sucked her through.

  And into a maelstrom of sound. A full orchestra rose in triumphant crescendo.

  A flash swept across her vision—a pentacle? She landed hard in the center, on a pavement of multicolored stones. The groan rattling from her teeth echoed.

  Solid. Real. The music faded to a background murmur. She looked up. People in rich robes stared at her. She was among humans. She closed her eyes in gratitude. When she opened them she was circled by swords.

  "This is our savior? The one we risked our lives for? It's puny. And ugly," Reynardus said.

  Thealia stared in shock at the small being in the pentagram's center. It was partially feathered, something she'd never seen before. Never anticipated. A female avian.

  The chanting, gong and Summoning had gone well up to a point. Thealia had been sure they'd lured their Exotique fighter, caught her—the spirit and Power of her had sung through the connection. They'd lost her in the doorway, but only for a few seconds.

  Looking at the entity, so different from the woman she'd anticipated, Thealia felt her blood drain from her face until her lips felt cold and stiff. There must be some way to save the situation.

  Reynardus sneered down his nose at her. "This is the 'fighting woman of the greatest magical Power' you promised, Swordmarshall Thealia. Those were your words, were they not?"

  If he said so, they were. His Power included a perfect memory.

  He didn't wait for an answer. "Just as I thought. Wasted effort. The Power we used to bring this thing here will keep us all drained for days. This is a disaster." He dropped his sword and turned.

  "Stop!" ordered the Medica. She was a healer, not a Marshall, but they listened. "You've already broken the link between us, butdon't break the circle. And do you, Knight Lord Swordmarshall Reynardus, think small is weak? What of this?" She opened her hand and blew away a protective sphere. The glowing starlike atomball floated free. She flicked it to Reynardus.

  Reflexively his ivory baton appeared in his hand and tipped the ball away, sent it spinning across the circle.

  Thealia's wasn't the only gasp. A loose atomball, and the whole circle of Marshalls depleted from the Summoning! She froze with horror as it sped to her husband, Partis. He didn't have the Power to hold it even at full strength. His round face showed only minor strain as he caught the ball on the tip of his staff.

  "I believe this is the first Test for the Exotique," Partis said, "to measure her Power." He tossed the ball directly to the small female rising to her feet.

  Alexa wanted to believe she dreamed, but the physical sensations were all too real for her to ignore. She wondered—

  Shit! The little star the strangers played keep-away with came straight at her! She ducked, held out her right hand, and the ball smacked into her palm with stinging force. It burned and sent rivulets of heat pouring through her veins, up her arm. And here she'd followed a song to help. Look where it got her. Somewhere else.

  She gritted her teeth and bore the pain from the searing star.

  Pretty nice tricks these people had. She had no intention of being "monkey in the middle"—and she knew by the tone of his words that the big guy with broad shoulders considered her something like a monkey. He swaggered with arrogance even standing still.

  Holding the light made her dizzy, but when it finally cooled she loosened her fingers and dropped it. A golden walnut clattered to the floor and rolled away with a clatter.

  The circle of people stared at her, some with their mouths open. She tried to suppress her shuddering, wishing it was fromthe lingering cold of the Colorado night, but she knew it was from adrenaline pumping through her. She fought to gather her wits, sure the fantastic events would continue to move at the speed of light—or magic. She must be ready and think on her feet, as she had so often done during her childhood in foster homes.

  Alexa had concluded that they'd brought her here—the big silver gong shining within the circle was sufficient evidence of that. With the pentacle she was in, their circle, and another on the floor that they stood within, magic seemed to be the method they'd used.

  Inhaling deeply, Alexa studied them. They were all taller than she. She lifted a shoulder. Nothing new. Everyone was taller than she.

  They looked suntanned—a light golden brown—and all had black hair, though the tints and highlights weren't the same, nor was the thickness. Even the man with the most lines on his face had a full head of hair. No male-pattern baldness here. In fact, they all had streaks in their hair—silver or gold, over their left or right temple, or both. That was the oddest thing about them and she sensed it was significant.

  Every one of them emitted a low note, something that she seemed to hear with her mind, vibrating her eardrum from the inside. Together their notes wove into a strong melody. She shook her head, but the song remained, as did the background music.

  They stared at her with dark eyes. They were almost Asian, but the structure of their features was subtly different—a very beautiful people.

  Alexa gazed back at them, conscious as never before of her pale skin, light brown hair and green eyes. She shifted awkwardly—knowing one side of her face was red and raw made her feel even more scruffy.

  The elegance of their velvet robes adorned with fancy gold orsilver braidwork looked too impractical for any activity other than magic. Each wore heraldry embroidered above their hearts. Or on their left side, Alexa amended. She didn't know where their hearts were. She recognized a coat of arms when she saw one, even if she didn't know what it meant. She figured these beings must be of high status.

  They seemed to be grouped in pairs, two wearing emerald green, two sapphire blue, and so on around the circle—usually a man-woman pairing.

  Most held their swords pointed at her chest, as if she were a threat. The big man wearing rust red turned to the angular woman—Alexa had decided they were the most important two.

  He made another snide comment. Probably about her.

  She looked down at herself and winced. She appeared to be molting. One side of her coat spilled feathers, some more drifted across the rest of her clothing, and with every breath a few separated to float around her. Her long jacket was dead.

  She shed her coat and dropped her fanny pack. A mutter ran around the circle. Alexa raised her eyebrows at the big guy who glared at her, staring at her right hand.

  Alexa folded her coat. Feathers puffed out. She flexed her fingers. Her right hand was pinkened, but didn't hurt as much as her face. Her down vest ripped when she moved. It, too, had tears. She realized the beast's swipe with the tips of its claws had come close to killing her. More adrenaline kicked in. She'd been very, very lucky. Particularly since she sensed the monster had been waiting for her.

  With unsteady hands Alexa took off her vest and laid it on her coat, then stood in sweater and jeans.

  The people spoke amongst themselves. The small round man ran a stick along glowing gemstone crystals arranged in a rainbow—the chime—and the sound shivered through Alexa. She jerked, sensing she was trapped here.

  A pattern of tinkling chimes followed, each one affecting Alexa. At one, her balance tipped and she strained to keep upright, another sent her heart pounding loud enough for her to hear its rush in her ears. On and on the glasses rang as if testing every one of her reflexes, plucking at her organs.

  It ended just before Alexa fell to her knees. Her body was coated with a cold sweat. She gritted her teeth and stiffened her spine. Posturing and attitude was all she had, and everything that counted in this game of strategy, as in all power games. Whatever safety, status and position s
he had in this world—in this time?—depended on this first confrontation.

  The circle opened and a woman a few inches taller than Alexa left it, crossing to the edge of the circular room, to the gray stone wall. The woman was dressed differently than the others. No chain mail gleamed beneath her robe. This lady wore no armor. She wore a robe of dark red, with a coat of arms over her left breast, but in the center of her chest was a big white cross. Not hard to deduce that she was a doctor.

  Alexa was profoundly glad that the woman was moving away from her. She shook out her arms and legs, steadied her breathing. No one else in the circle moved. They all watched the doctor and Alexa. And waited.

  The healer unfolded a fur on a wide padded stone bench near a fluted pillar and murmured something soft and lilting. She picked up a bundle and proceeded straight across the room. To an altar.

  Alexa looked wildly around. Everyone had sharp weapons. A fist of dread squeezed her stomach. Surely they weren't going to sacrifice a living thing. She couldn't stand that. She'd have to stop it—somehow.

  She hoped it wasn't a dog. She would totally freak if it was a dog.

  Breath strangled in her throat. What if they were going to sacrifice her?

  The doctor stepped into the light cast by the chandeliers' wheels and Alexa saw it was worse than a dog.

  It was a baby.

  Face impassive, eyes hooded, the healer showed the naked infant to Alexa. It was a little girl of about one year old. Short black-and-silver hair was ruffled into tufts. The little one grinned at Alexa.

  She moved to block the way to the altar.

  The doctor glided across the room in front of Alexa to a square of blue polished marble.

  Alexa didn't see the pool until the baby splashed into it.

  2

  Alexa had thought the dark pool was a slab of polished blue marble. Horror ripped through her as she ran to save the child.

  There were six steps down. She slipped on the first and toppled into the pool, dog-paddling to keep her head up.

  It wasn't water, but thick, like syrup. The liquid sliced fire into a raw blister on her foot, burned the tender quick of a fingernail she'd broken that morning. The pain in the cuts was bad, but worse on her scraped face, and now she felt scratches on her torso from the beast. The fluid even affected her bruises. Every ache seemed to be an open wound eaten by acid. It crawled from the edge of a bruise to burn hotter as it reached the center of the hurt. Alexa's breath came in anguished gasps. Her mind reeled.

  She saw the little girl near the bottom of the far side of the pool. Alexa plunged into the liquid to reach the child, in too much pain to even prepare herself with a deep breath.

  The fluid closed over her head. Tensing, she opened her eyes. And saw perfectly. She dove for the baby and grabbed her, pulled her from the pool. Staggered out.

  A scream rose from her throat at the sight of the limp little body. She didn't know what to do. She looked at the doctor. Though tears ran down the woman's face, she stood with folded hands.

  Alexa shifted from foot to foot in endless agony for a few seconds before wiping the baby's eyes, then pushed her finger into the girl's mouth, checking for obstructions, feeling if the child's tongue blocked the air passage.

  She turned the baby over, grabbed hard when the infant slipped. Alexa patted her back. Thumped a little harder. Nothing.

  Alexa cradled the baby and whirled to the people who stood on the other side of the room. She thought she cried, What kind of fiends are you to do this! But what came from her mouth was, "Shit. SHIT!"

  Her frantic gaze scanned the room. The hole to Colorado was gone, though that wouldn't have done much good.

  She didn't know where the door to the room was, what was outside, or if there were other people. The baby's only hope was those who'd already harmed her. So Alexa tried once more.

  "Help!" she screamed. "Help her!"

  A second later the doctor tore the child from her grasp. Alexa slipped and hit the floor hard. Again.

  The healer pressed the infant to her breast and crooned a spell. Pulsing green light bathed them. An instant later the baby coughed, then screeched.

  Alexa had never heard anything so sweet in her life, but she wondered what was going on. What were their intentions?

  Growling drowned out the baby's cries. A man with a raised knife flashing in the dim light hurled himself at Alexa. She cringedand rolled, muscles protesting in new agony. Mad fury slammed into her, from him, her attacker. Again she fought to get her breath. She rolled, couldn't make it to her feet, was stranded on her back. He snarled, angling the knife.

  His face twisted. In his eyes she saw revulsion, bone-deep hatred because she was different. Never to be trusted. Only to be slain.

  She flung up her arms. Her soaked clothes constricted. Liquid trickled onto her skin and stung. The room spun, and a sea of emotions from everyone inundated her. Something in her mind broke free.

  Her cry matched his. A weapon flew into her open hand. Unnecessary. With fear and panic, with her mind, she slammed her assailant across the room. She heard him hit the wall with a thud, then slither to the floor.

  Oh God! Oh God, she'd hurt a man using her will alone!

  She lurched to her knees, planted a foot, then another, and rocked to her feet. A couple of women moved to the still man, one wailing. Everyone else watched her.

  Alexa bared her teeth at them. She'd never done such a thing in her life, but she now acted totally on instinct. This night was beyond belief. Beyond anything she'd ever imagined.

  That she might have killed a man with the sheer force of her mind shattered the last rational belief she'd ever held. Nothing was the same. Nothing was right. Nothing was reasonable. Only primal intuition could save her.

  She hefted the weight in her hand, considered what she held. It was a stick about two feet long and three inches thick, made of something like ivory and capped at each end with gold. One end was pointed, the other straight. Carved figures of knights fighting monsters covered the staff. It looked far too big to be a wand, but she'd bet anything that it was a magical tool. She slid it throughher hands, enjoying the texture, though she sensed a nasty tingle of energy. Finding a button, she pressed it. A little brass hook with a blunt end popped from the side, as if it was there to hang the stick from a belt loop.

  A shout attracted her attention. When she looked up, everyone was staring at her, as always.

  Alexa raised the short staff.

  The smallest man opened his mouth and began a chant. His melodious voice was the richest she'd ever heard, set in a soothing cadence. The others joined in, and though the music didn't sound the same here in the round church of wherever, Alexa knew it was that which had drawn her to this dreadful place. She could almost see the small man's voice as the stream of yellow in the rainbow that had compelled her into the arch. The big, mean guy's voice was jerky with some emotion, and his intentions didn't quite match the others, but Alexa felt he was the bright red, fluctuating band. The angular lady was indigo.

  As he sang, the small man gestured, and the others slid their swords into sheaths. The leader's staff burned with a yellow flame at the tip. He set it aside and it stood by itself.

  Alexa blinked. She was too exhausted and wrung out to goggle. The indigo woman stepped forward, raising her hands to her shoulders, palms outward. Another gesture Alexa understood.

  She turned her back on them to check on the baby. Instead of the doctor, a teenaged girl held the child. The girl watched Alexa with huge eyes.

  The baby was bundled warmly in a thick fleece blanket. Alexa motioned to her. "Is she all right?"

  The youngster seemed to understand what Alexa said. She nodded. Alexa wondered if that meant agreement.

  She hooked the stick in a belt loop of her jeans and pointed from the baby to herself and held out her arms. "Give her to me."

  Wariness crept into the girl's gaze.

  "Give her to me!" Alexa demanded.

  The gi
rl's glance slid from Alexa to the circle of people behind her. Whatever she saw reassured her. Carefully, she held out the baby.

  Alexa cradled the child, pliant but live, in her arms. She flipped the corner of the blanket from the baby's face. Sleepy brown eyes gazed up at her. A little smile emitted a bubble of drool. Alexa sighed. She put her finger to each small fist in turn and smiled back when the baby clasped it, then the tiny girl snuggled against her and shut her eyes.

  "Marwey," the teenager said.

  Alexa looked up.

  The girl pointed to herself. "Marwey."

  "Alexa," Alexa said.

  "Al-yek-ah," Marwey pronounced.

  Alexa shrugged.

  Marwey pointed to the baby. "Nyja." The girl gestured to the indigo lady, "Marshall Sabre Thealia." Then Marwey indicated the big guy. "Dom Marshall Sabre Reynardus." Finally, Marwey inclined her head to the short, round man. "Marshall Boucilier Partis."

  All right. Alexa deduced that Thealia and the short man, Partis—probably her husband—had one title and the big jerk had two. Figured.

  The healer came up and held out her arms for the baby.

  Alexa clutched her closer.

  The doctor said something that sounded gentle.

  Alexa patted the baby. "Is she going to be all right?" Alexa emphasized the rising inflection of a question and raised her eyebrows, hoping such signals would get her meaning across.

  "Ayes." The healer nodded vigorously, smiling.

  Slowly Alexa handed the infant over.

  The doctor unwrapped the baby and freed her arms and legs so Alexa could see them whole and moving. The baby girl's face screwed up and she cried. The healer shushed her and turned.

  "Wait!" Alexa said.

  The healer looked over her shoulder.

  Alexa pointed to the shadows where the man she'd sent flying had lain. "Is he going to be all right?" Her stomach clutched as she waited for an answer.

  In broad pantomime the doctor lifted her shoulders high and dropped them, frowned. Then she bobbed her head at Alexa, said something to Marwey and took the baby away.