“I’m here.”
“Can you help me a little? It hurts.”
“I know. I’m sorry, Rob…I…”
“The incense? It affects you too, you can’t heal me, just like I can’t see.”
“I’m so sorry, Brat.” He gently pulled Rob up and put his brother’s head against his shoulder. Galen put his cheek on the top of Rob’s head. “Dad and Uncle Bobby’ll be here soon. I’m sorry,” he said again.
“It’s okay, Galen. We’re together.”
“No matter what, we’re together.” He let his head rest against Rob’s. “I’m sorry Rob, this didn’t go quite as planned, but at least I’m here with you, at least we’re together.” And he let his eyes close.
Chapter Fifteen
“My god,” Mike whispered, the words coming out in a sigh of horror. Galen blinked, he’d forgotten the doctor was even there, forgotten he’d been speaking, the past had suddenly been so close. The old scar was twisting, the pain shooting out from the wound almost in anticipation of what it knew was coming. Mike gave him a wild look and walked over towards him, tugging at his shirt. He pulled it up and ran his hand along the old scars on Galen’s chest. “You were…they…” Mike swallowed, looking sick. “I always wondered, you know, but I never really believed. My god, Galen, they flayed you.”
“Only a little.” Galen tried for a laugh, it came out strangled, his heart had started pounding suddenly. He took a deep breath trying to steady himself.
“Galen?” Rob said softly from beside him. Galen looked over, his brother was frowning, his eyes unfocused. Galen knew Rob was “looking” at him. His brother put a hand on his shoulder.
“I’m okay, Rob.”
“No, you’re not,” Rob said, squinting. “Something…” The wound suddenly twisted, deep, driving pain into Galen’s chest. He thought he might have cried out. “Galen?” Rob said anxiously.
The voice was back, whispering to him, trying to force his mind away from his control. “Time, nearly time, I have waited long years for this, Keeper. Our time has come,” It said. Galen was gasping for air, he could hear Mike shouting, he felt Rhiannon’s hand on his. “Very soon we can finish what you began. Very soon I will have my time, you will give me the gift and we will walk together you and I, you will know me.”
“No,” Galen heard his voice. Rob’s hand left his shoulder and the warm presence of his brother was suddenly gone. He felt himself shifted. Someone was holding onto his wrist. Mike’s voice was anxious, talking to Rhiannon, she was answering, but the words had ceased to make sense.
“They trapped me, held me, but now…now our time is near. We were so close once and you took that away. Not this time. Soon, soon Keeper you will be mine,” It continued.
“No.” His own voice again, harsh and grating against his ears.
“Yes, yes, soon. So much to answer for, a long line of pain from you and yours, but you will give me the gift. You denied me once, but you cannot stop it. They made the mistake of keeping you alive and now you are mine…finally mine…” The voice sighed, a sick pleasure in the sound as pain stabbed into Galen, like the blade from so long ago. “Remember this? Yes, you thought you ended it, but…” Laughter filled his mind.
“Drink,” Rob’s voice overrode the laughter. Galen felt something pressed against his lips. “It’s the red bottle.” His brother’s voice was coming from far away.
“Very far away, you are nearly mine now, that will not save you. Nothing can now. Too late, he is mine, you are mine, and soon I will be back to walk and rule as I once did. We have a small task for tonight, Keeper. Something I need to know.”
“No,” Galen’s heard his voice, it had a finality to it. He tried to steady himself, tried to focus and despite everything, he felt his heart slow a beat.
“Galen? What’s going on?” he heard Rob’s voice, anxious, demanding an answer.
“Yes, yes, my Keeper,” the voice shrieked in his head. Galen remembered the sound.
“No.” Galen wasn’t sure he had spoken aloud. “Rob,” he said to his brother, again unsure. His heart slowed. “Rob, something….” The voice was screaming.
“Not yet. This doesn’t happen now.” Rob’s voice had an edge of steel to it.
“Rob… It wants something,” Galen whispered, wondering if anyone heard him. Another beat slower, he could feel the world slipping away, it felt familiar.
“Yes, perfect, my Keeper.” The voice had the edge of laughter in it.
“How if I’m dead?” Galen asked the voice.
“Your death is later, my Keeper, this is a test,” the voice said.
“What’s happening?” Mike was shouting.
“He’s dying,” Rob snapped. “No, Galen, I won’t let you.”
“Dying? How?”
“I don’t know. Galen are you doing this?”
“Doing what?” Mike shouted.
“Galen, no, please no, honey.” That was Rhiannon.
“Rob,” the word sighed out of him as the world began to fade. “Don’t…” The laughter began to increase in volume. Another beat slower. Mike and Rhiannon’s voices faded to murmurs.
“No, Galen.” Oddly, Rob’s voice seemed clearer. There was warmth on the old wound, flowing out, pushing the pain away. The voice was suddenly confused, the laughter fading to a hush. Part of the pain flowed away, outwards. “Galen?” Rob’s voice overrode the pain, the laughter, the angry screams of the voice. There was a pleased, almost triumphant, undercurrent in the voice, but It was angry that it was being slowly silenced. Galen tried to focus.
“No, Galen, not now, not this time,” Rob’s voice played in his head. “I won’t let it happen.”
“It wants this, Rob.”
“It doesn’t get your death. Not tonight, Galen,” Rob’s voice was hard, determined.
Galen felt the thing’s hissing voice pulled away from him. “No, Rob, what are you doing?” Galen’s heart wouldn’t slow and further, something was gently blocking it, holding him there. “Rob, Dad and Bobby made a mistake…”
“Yes, they did,” his brother answered, the words loud in his mind. “But it’s not the mistake you think.”
“It wants this, whatever you’re doing. Stop, please, Rob.”
“Trust me.” The warmth flowed beyond the old wound, numbing it. Galen recognized the affects of his spell, but something else was working on it as well. The voice had been pulled away, like a splinter pulled from a wound. He could still sense the edge of it somewhere, but it was away from him. “Trust me.” Galen took a deep breath. He struggled against the warmth, against the light, trying to block it like he had his father. “Please, Galen, trust me.”
Galen let go, stopped trying to fight it and let the warmth fill him. The world slowly came back, he was aware of the couch under him. The room was warm, the fan must have come on, there was a soft breeze against his face. He could feel Rob’s hand where it rested over the old wound. Warmth was still flowing from that touch, the darkness and cold had seeped into his brother a little. “Rob?”
“It’s okay, Galen.” His brother’s voice was soft. “Are you back?”
Galen opened his eyes and met Rob’s slate-blue ones. “How?” He tried to sit up, Rob held him down with gentle hands. “How?”
“How what?” Mike said, his voice snappish. Galen heard profound relief under his friend’s sharp tone.
“How did you…?”
“You showed me.” Rob’s voice was quiet.
“I…?” Galen sighed. “It wanted that, Rob. It was testing you.”
“I know.”
“You know?” Galen raised his eyebrows. “What?”
“Galen, it’s part of it, part of…”
“No.” He shook his head.
“You want to tell me what just happened? Maybe let me in on what the hell’s going on?” Mike’s voice was climbing in volume. “Maybe mention that whole dying thing to me?”
“No,” Galen said.
“Yes,” his brother said at the same time. “
They’re there.”
“What?” Rhiannon asked, laying a hand on Galen.
“The answers we were looking for, they’re here, in what happened at the end. Galen, you need to tell me.”
“Rob…”
“Then I’ll tell you.”
Past
Ten year before
Day Seven-Galen
Galen was leaning against the wall in the small room. Smoke from the brazier had filled the room, making it hazy, making him hazy. “I wonder what, exactly, is in there? Something’s blocking our Gift. Was it designed with Keepers in mind? And if it was, what does that mean?” Galen said quietly, more to himself than his brother. Rob shifted slightly in his arms, moaning. “It’s okay Rob. I’m here.”
“I know,” Rob answered him. “Sorry.”
“Sorry? Why?”
“That you have to be here because of me.”
“Nothing to be sorry for, Rob.” Galen sighed. “Dad and Uncle Bobby’ll be here soon.”
“Think they’ll make it in time?” Rob’s voice seemed older somehow, accepting of what was happening.
“Yeah.” Galen shifted. He tried to focus a little of the healing into Rob, into himself, but the Gift was completely gone. The grayness he had sensed in his father and uncle was there where the light had been.
“We won’t get a chance to be Keepers together will we?”
“We will, Rob,” Galen said.
“I have a funny feeling we won’t, Galen.” His brother sighed, a sad sound. “I need to tell you something Galen, something about…”
Before his brother could finish, the door opened. Two men came in, pulled Rob out of his arms and dragged Galen out of the room, out of the building. There was an open space, it looked like it had once been a garden. They pushed him up onto a flat stone.
They pulled his hands down, he felt something wrapped around his wrists, then he was tied down, essentially immobile. There was pain, brief, intense, sharp, then something warm flowed across his chest, down onto the flat stone.
The chanting was getting louder. Galen heard someone approaching him. A cold draft blew over him. He recognized the smell of the thing. The bearded man stood over him and smiled. “Let us get to know your heart, She and I, so we can prepare for the last.” He said something in a language Galen didn’t recognize. Galen could see the thing’s eyes behind the man’s.
The man lifted a hand, the chanting got even louder. Galen could feel the cold of the thing. The man put his hand against Galen’s chest, Galen ground his teeth together against the wave of pain. It felt like the hand was going into his chest, through flesh and bone. “Keeper,” the man whispered. “Yes, Keeper,” his voice was filled with pleasure. Galen desperately tried to still the scream rising in his chest. He didn’t want to give them the satisfaction. The hand closed. It turned in his chest. And he heard himself. The scream was torn from his throat, involuntary, necessary. The hand withdrew.
Galen felt his body sag in relief. He was untied and half carried-half dragged back to the room where his brother was. They closed the door as they left, he heard a lock turn.
He was close enough to where his brother lay to touch him. He put his hand on Rob’s shoulder. “I need to rest, just for a minute, Rob. Then I’ll figure out how to get us out of here,” he said, his voice was rough, his throat hurt. “Just give me a minute.”
“Galen?” Rob shifted until he was resting against Galen, their shoulders touching. “You’re bleeding.”
“Just a little, not much,” he said gently. “I think it’s near the finish, Rob, we have to get out.” He closed his eyes and let the incense fill him for a minute. He knew it would help take the pain away. He let himself drift a tiny bit. “I just need to rest long enough to get something back,” Galen said.
“I wish I could heal you, Galen,” Rob said quietly. “I want to talk about that.”
“About what, Brat?” Galen was not quite aware, drifting on the cloud of incense.
“Our Gifts.”
“What about them?”
“I… The incense is making me sleepy.”
“Me, too, Rob. Rest, we’ll need everything we have in a little while.”
“Okay.” Rob reached over and put his hand on Galen’s arm.
They came back sooner than Galen had expected, it felt like mere minutes. He raised his head and tried push himself upright. It didn’t work. He watched as they picked his brother up and took him out of the room.
“No,” Galen said as they closed the door. He tried harder, he’d made it clear to his elbows when they came back in. They grabbed him and dragged him out of the room. He was carried out into the open space again.
Rob was already there, he’d been placed on a flat stone, Galen assumed it was the same one he’d been on before. He could see the stain of his own blood on the stone. He realized there were other people in the garden, too. Galen knew this was it, the final ritual, he hoped the elder Keepers were close. The bearded man approached Rob. Galen could hear his brother whimper, reacting to the thing. The man was saying something in the strange language, the others around the garden were chanting.
“Rob! Hang on!” he called out, hoping to break the ritual. One of the men hit him in the side. He tried to stay lax in their grip, hoping they’d let their guard down for a minute.
The bearded man stood over Rob. He held his hands out and then placed them on his brother. Rob reacted to the touch, he was straining against the bonds that held him as his body instinctively pulled from the pain. Then he screamed. There was blood where the man’s hands touched Rob’s chest, Galen could see the bright stain growing on his brother’s shirt.
“Wait,” the man said, the thing’s voice loud in the startled cry. The bearded man turned from Rob and walked to Galen. The man stopped in front of him and the thing’s eyes searched Galen’s.
“I’m going to kill you. It’ll probably be the last thing I do,” Galen said softly, sure of that now, knowing what it meant. “But I am going to kill you.”
The man—the thing—laughed. “I doubt that. Nothing can kill me soon, if what I felt was correct.”
He reached out and touched Galen, a hand on his head, a hand on his chest over his heart. The thing was laughing now, Its pleasure apparent in the laugh. Galen fought the touch, fought to stay conscious. He could feel the hand in his chest, he could feel blood from the touch, it felt like his life was flowing away. Galen was open, vulnerable for an instant and the thing violated his mind. He screamed at the intrusion. The thing thrust into his consciousness and then It stopped. Galen heard the man sigh, ecstatic.
“Emrys,” the man said. “I was right, what I felt in the boy. You are Emrys.” The thing turned away, back towards Rob. The pain retreated a little. The man had Its hands on his brother again.
Rob reacted to that touch, Galen acted in that moment.
He pulled away from the men holding him and dove towards the stone where Rob was lying. Galen pushed the thing’s hands away. He could sense movement behind him, but he didn't care. He was focused on his brother. Galen tore at the bonds, got one, then the other loose. The thing’s hands were on Galen’s back, reaching in. Galen heard himself screaming. He pulled on his brother and managed to roll him off the stone.
The man—the thing—shrieked “No!” in Its voice, in the man’s voice.
Galen stood over Rob, blocking the thing, the others who were there, from his brother. The bearded man was angry, the thing inside the man was furious, Galen could see that in the thing’s eyes looking at him from the man’s face.
“Not this time, Emrys,” the thing said, hatred in Its voice. It was reaching for him. It was there now, the thing, more and more in the man. Galen could smell It, feel the cold reaching out to him. He could see It in the eyes and hear It in the voice. The man was disappearing into the thing.
It reached out and touched his face, Galen clenched his teeth, still trying to block It from his brother. The other people in the clearing were standing back
, afraid of the thing that stood in their midst. It slid Its hand down to his throat. He heard Rob whimper.
“I’m going to kill you,” Galen whispered to the thing.
“You’re already dead,” It said.
“Then there’s nothing to lose.”
The thing tightened Its grip, slowly, almost gently, searing through skin. Galen took a deep breath.
“Galen!” His father’s voice carried into the garden.
“Here!” From the way his father’s voice echoed, Galen knew they were still a ways off.
“We’re coming!”
The thing pulled Its hand away. “No, they won’t stop the ritual.”
“Just did,” Galen said, trying to keep the dark edges away, the darkness reaching for him.
“No! There are other ways, Emrys, Keeper. I won’t lose, not this time.” It turned from him and ran into the building. Galen followed. He could hear Its breathing as he moved down the hallway. It was in the room where he and Rob had been held. He hesitated for half a second, wondering what it wanted in that room. Galen spotted an old farm tool on the wall. He grabbed it. When he entered the room, the thing stood and came at him. Galen felt something push against him, pressure in his chest. “I don’t have time for that right now,” he said. It was bad, he knew it was bad.
The thing was shrieking at him, the man’s voice blending with the thing’s. It reached out and twisted whatever was there in Galen’s chest, smiling as he did it.
Galen took a deep breath and raised the scythe. He struck out, using the weight of the tool to help his swing. The thing, the man, collapsed screaming, clutching what was left of a leg. Galen struck again. It screamed at him, wordlessly. Then, “This is not over,” It said quietly, trying to rise, falling back and reaching for him again. It touched his ankle, Galen dropped to his knees and struggled back up. “This is not over.”
Galen used the scythe to shove some oily rags over to the thing, where It was writhing on the floor. “Yeah?” He tipped the brazier over, the rags caught. The thing screamed. “How about if you burn? Is it over then?” He watched the flickering flames for a minute, until the thing—the man—was dead, and the room was filled with the stench of burning flesh.
The Legacy: A Custodes Noctis Book Page 20
