The Restorer

by Sharon Hinck

I turned to Mark, but he wasn’t there. Two dark figures were pulling him away toward an alley.

  The silence and suddenness of the attack left me stunned. It was several seconds before the sounds registered in my mind. Clanging metal. The thud of bodies taking blows and hitting the ground.

  When I finally took in what was happening, I screamed. I tugged my sword free, but felt the nightmarish sense of moving through molasses. I ran toward Mark.

  “Susan, look out!” he shouted, even as he struggled in the grip of his two attackers.

  Something rammed into me from the side.

  As I fell, I remembered to tuck my shoulder and roll. I kept a hold on my sword and scrambled to my feet. One of the masked attackers moved toward me. With a two-fisted grip, I swung my blade back and forth in front of me, hearing it whistle through the air. The man jumped back.

  “Mark!” I had the space of a second to check on him.

  The two men dragged him farther toward the alley alongside the Council building. Tristan and Kieran were fighting nearby, but it seemed a whole army was attacking us, and they were too far away to save Mark.

  When I started toward Mark again, my attacker moved in from the side. This time I closed my eyes and swung my sword like a baseball bat.

  It made contact with something. Someone grunted and moaned.

  I didn’t stop to see what I had done. I ran toward Mark and gained some ground, although he was close to disappearing around the corner of the building. As I drew near, one of the men dragging Mark lifted his free hand. Metal glinted off a long, twisted blade.

  My heart lurched like a startled lehkan. “God, no!” I shouted the prayer. I sprinted forward, sword raised.

  The attacker plunged the knife straight down at Mark.

  Chapter

  29

  It took a half-second for the horrible truth to grab me. I couldn’t reach Mark in time. My legs kept moving me forward, but my life was shattering. My husband was about to be murdered in front of my eyes, and nothing I could do would stop it.

  In that same compressed second of time, Mark’s head angled upward and he pulled against one of the men who held him.

  My gaze clung to every detail of his face. I knew in that moment that I had never known any man more noble or unselfish. I was desperate to tell him one more time how much I loved him.

  The blade flashed downward.

  Wade barreled out of the alley and launched himself at the man with the knife, propelling him away from Mark. The weapon flew from the assassin’s hand before it could reach its target. I ran at the hooded man who still held Mark on the other side and slammed the flat of my blade into his shoulder. The force of the swing jarred my wrists, but the impact made the man release his grip on Mark.

  Mark was finally able to draw his own sword. He finished off the man I had attacked with a single efficient thrust.

  I froze, stunned at the sight of my easy-going suburban husband transformed into a warrior. Once I stopped moving, instinct deserted me, and I wobbled on my feet, unsure what to do next.

  Mark pulled his sword free and checked on Wade. The burly guardian pummeled his opponent into the ground and delivered a meaty right cross. The attacker’s head bounced against the pavement, and he stopped moving. Wade sprinted down the street toward Tristan and Kieran, hurdling over the crumpled form of the first man I had fought out in the street.

  I stared at the lifeless body at my feet, dazed.

  Mark never stopped moving. He pulled the hooded mask off the man’s head. The enemy’s skin was ashen white, with a sunken chin and large black eyes that seemed frozen open in surprise. “He’s Kahlarean,” Mark said in disgust.

  I closed my eyes but couldn’t escape the image of the lifeless face looking up at me. I wrapped my arms around my ribs, curling in around the shock that gripped me.

  “Susan, stay with me.” Mark’s voice was terse. He checked Wade’s opponent for weapons. At least that man was still breathing. “Come on. We’re not done yet.”

  I followed Mark back out to the street in time to see the other attackers disappear into the twilight. Tristan took a few lurching steps after them, but their speed would have made them impossible to catch, even if Tristan weren’t already hobbling from a recent injury. Wade gave chase a little longer, but soon gave up and headed back toward us. Kieran was on the ground, and Tristan offered him a hand and helped him up.

  “Are you all right?” I asked them as Mark and I drew close.

  “Just great,” Kieran snapped.

  “Thanks to me.” Wade grinned at us. “The man had a venblade two inches from Kieran’s neck when I got here.”

  “I was taking care of it.” Kieran scowled at Wade.

  Wade’s smile broadened. He was enjoying the thought of Kieran owing him his life.

  “Who were they?” I still had my sword in my hand, but the blade seemed to be shaking. Tristan and Mark exchanged a look.

  “Kahlarean assassins,” Mark said.

  “They’ve heard Markkel has returned,” Tristan said. “That’s going to be a problem.”

  I loved his gift of understatement. “But Mark isn’t the Restorer,” I said.

  Mark moved closer to me and gently pried my fingers away from my sword hilt. I realized it wasn’t the sword that was trembling. It was my hand. “They don’t know that,” he said.

  “Yet,” Kieran said. “But they will soon.” He looked at me. For a moment I thought I saw sympathy or even admiration in his dark eyes. “You made yourself a target today.”

  “Don’t even pretend that it matters to you.” Mark turned his back on Kieran and helped me get my sword back into its loop.

  Mark’s anger worried me. I knew he hadn’t forgiven Kieran for trying to use me as a hostage, but he had to give the dark-haired man some credit for what he’d done today in the Council session. “We’re all on the same side,” I said quietly.

  Mark ignored me. “Tristan, will you and Wade take Susan back to my rooms? Kieran, you can help me take care of them.” Mark jerked his head toward the street. Kieran’s eyes narrowed. Then he shrugged and walked over to the nearest corpse.

  Two dead bodies and an unconscious assassin. The Lyric guardians were going to love this. Wade and Tristan led me down the street and through an alley to the building where Mark and I were staying. It was getting too dark to see, and of course there were no lights. No one ventured out after dark. No one but assassins.

  “I’m really not cut out for this,” I said suddenly. “When Anne’s hamster died, I couldn’t even look at it. Mark had to put it in the shoebox and arrange the funeral. Sure, I told the One that I want to fight evil. But I was thinking maybe I’d volunteer at the drug rehab center downtown as a counselor or something. I really, really didn’t plan on Rhusicans or assassins or war.” My words came faster and faster. Wade and Tristan exchanged a worried look, but I didn’t care. Babbling helped me process the flood of horrified feelings that threatened to drown me.

  “You know, I’ve done what I was supposed to. The Council is going to honor the Verses, and the guardians are going to protect Braide Wood. Maybe that’s all I need to do. We really have to get Mark away from here before they try again. And I don’t want anyone else getting hurt because of us. We should leave. And who knows if Jake has gotten home from work yet. What if he finds the house empty? I didn’t even leave a note. I don’t want to fight anymore. My children need me. And I can’t do this anymore.” Anxiety spiraled into tighter and tighter coils and the shaking in my hands was moving up my arms.

  Tristan limped to a halt in the doorway of the building. He waited until I met his eyes to speak. “You fought as bravely as any of my guardians tonight. Now put it aside. Linette is in there. She’s going to need your help.”

  The words stung me like a slap across the face. I’d forgotten. My face heated. I sounded completely self-abso
rbed. This was hard for me, but Linette had lost her fiancé and didn’t know it yet. I took a slow breath and nodded.

  She was curled on the couch, holding a small wooden flute, silently running her fingers through some drills. As I came in the door, she smiled at me and unwound to stand. Then she saw the man behind me.

  “Tristan! Are you all right? Did you find him?” She ran toward him on light feet, but read his expression and stopped short in the middle of the room. The hope poured out of her face like water swirling down a drain. Her long, graceful body crumbled.

  I ran forward to gather her in a hug as her knees collapsed. We both sank to the floor, and I held her while she cried. My own tears dripped down onto her hair. The cold floor sent a remorseless chill into my muscles, but I feared if I loosened my grip, she’d curl so deeply into herself that she’d disappear from sight. I held on, trying to siphon some of her pain into my own heart and ease her grief by a tiny fraction.

  Wade fidgeted in the doorway, but Tristan walked over to us. He knelt down and touched the side of Linette’s face. She looked at him, holding her breath to still her sobs.

  “I’m sorry. He gave his life defending all of us.” Tristan offered the only comfort he could. Dylan was gone, but in Braide Wood he would be remembered as a hero. I thought of how little comfort that had been to Mark when his father was killed.

  Linette’s face contorted in pain. “Thank you,” she whispered. Then she lowered her head and sobbed, and I drew her close again.

  •••

  It was much later that Linette’s fragile body stopped shaking with tears. I helped her up and led her to the couch.

  She wavered on her feet, but didn’t sit down. “I need to go back to the songkeepers’ lodge.”

  “Are you sure? It’s late. You’re welcome to stay with us,” I offered. I knew that normally she cherished the traditional boundaries, including restrictions against going out at night.

  She shook her head. “No. I . . . I want to go back.”

  I walked with her to the door. She moved as slowly as Lukyan, as though her grief were arthritis gripping her every joint. Wade had taken up a guard position outside the room. I asked him to escort Linette home.

  He looked at her uncertainly and rested a clumsy hand on her thin shoulder. “I’m really sorry. Dylan was a good friend. Did he ever tell you about the time he pulled me out of the river when we were first-years?”

  Linette gave him a watery smile, and as they walked away, Wade quietly offered a tribute to Dylan with his stories.

  I hoped it would help her. I stepped back into the room with a sigh but stopped short at the sight of Tristan, who had collapsed into a chair, his injured leg stretched out in front of him. He watched me with something close to anger in his eyes.

  “Tristan?” I pulled a chair up and sat down slowly. “What’s wrong?”

  “You aren’t from here—”

  “I think we’ve established that.”

  He scowled, his long, uncombed hair adding to his fierce aura. “And I wanted to be sure you understand what you did today.”

  I rolled my shoulders and frowned. It had been a full day. I’d interrupted a Council session, been stabbed in the heart, and fought off Kahlarean assassins. I used to think running errands and driving to soccer practice was a lot of work. “What do you mean?”

  “Susan, what does a person’s word mean in your world?”

  My eyebrows pulled together as I tried to understand where this was going. “Are you asking me if you can trust me? Don’t you know that by now?” He didn’t answer, and I felt a cold congestion in my throat, as if I had swallowed a piece of ice.

  “I know you were upset earlier,” he said slowly. “But you talked about going back to your world. You said you didn’t want to fight. Do you understand what you did in the Council today?”

  “When? I mean, which thing? Tristan, what are you talking about?”

  “Did you promise to stand with Braide Wood as a Restorer?” There was an impatient edge to his voice.

  “Yes, of course.”

  “By those words, you promised to ride with the guardians and defend our clan. Did you know what you were pledging? Do you plan to honor your word?”

  I opened my mouth, insulted. I closed my mouth, ashamed. He was right. I hadn’t fully realized what I was promising. I had intended to give my moral support—proclaim my loyalty. I hadn’t thought about what would be expected of me now. I was great with motivational speeches, but not so great with the thought of riding into battle.

  Stricken, I met Tristan’s hard stare. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. But you do have my word.” I straightened in the chair. “If that’s what the Restorer is supposed to do, I’ll ride with the guardians against Hazor.”

  “No, she won’t.” Mark spoke loudly from the open doorway, glaring at Tristan. Kieran hovered behind him, watching with keen interest.

  Tristan pushed himself to his feet, and I expected him to argue with Mark. But he inclined his head. “We’ll leave you to talk.” He limped toward the door and paused. “I know you understand this, Markkel. The guardians won’t unite without the Restorer.” He waited, but Mark stared straight ahead, lips pressed in a thin, silent line. Tristan shook his head and walked out to the hall with Kieran.

  Mark had turned into an angry statue.

  “Okay. I’m not thrilled about going into battle.” I tried to make my words soothing. “But you’ll be with me. We make a great team. And it’s what the Restorer is supposed to do. Mark, what’s wrong?”

  He turned his head stiffly, as if it hurt to move. “Susan, I just talked to Jorgen. He’s ordered me to remain in Lyric to coordinate the Council’s part in gathering the army.”

  “Tell him you can’t.” I sprang from my chair.

  “When he reinstated me to the Council, I pledged to serve where he asks as long as we’re here. I don’t have a choice.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “Susan, I don’t want you to go.”

  “And I don’t want you to stay here. Would it help if I went and begged Jorgen to let you come with me?”

  “I gave him my word. He needs me to keep the Council on track with collecting supplies and organizing the clan guardians. And he’s asked for my help to keep Cameron from regain-

  ing control of the Council.” Mark held himself so still that I was afraid he’d shatter if I touched him.

  I stepped closer anyway and rested my head against his chest. “I’m the Restorer. This is what I’m here to do.”

  His chin rested on the top of my head, and he blew out an uneven breath. “You have something wrong with your heart, and you’ve hardly had any training. The Hazorites have syncbeams. I don’t care how fast you heal; it’s too dangerous.” His words became muffled against my hair.

  I wrapped my arms around his waist. “I’m sorry.” I looked up at his strained face and tried to understand what had triggered this renewed fear in him. Together we moved to the couch and sank down beside each other. Mark leaned forward and buried his face in his hands. I waited.

  “They’re just like the ones who came before,” he said in a tight voice.

  “Who?” I rested my hand lightly on his back.

  “The Kahlareans. The assassins. I didn’t see the ones who killed my mother, but I saw them the last time they tried to kill me. Before I was sent through the portal. They slip in. Silent, grey death. My father, my mother, me, you.”

  I rubbed his back and let him talk. The attack tonight had been a slingshot into the most terrible moments of his past. I floundered for words that could comfort him. When Wade walked Linette home, he made an effort to share treasured memories. “Tell me about your father. What do you remember about him? What was he like?”

  He lifted his head. He had never been able to tell me about his father, except in a very vague way. Now th
at I knew his history, he finally had someone he could talk to. It was the best gift I could give him.

  “When I was four, he took me hunting along the river. We hiked all day to reach an outpost. When I got tired, I rode on his shoulders. . . .”

  As he spoke, his tension melted, and he relaxed back into the couch. I think he would have talked all night if the door hadn’t opened.

  Wade stuck his head in from the outer hall. “The healer is here.” The door opened farther as the woman I had met earlier pushed past Wade and into the room. Her green tunic wasn’t as freshly creased as it had been earlier in the day. She still carried a large bag. Wade tried to grab her arm and stop her, but he was swept aside by Tristan and Kieran, who also strode into the room. Wade crossed his arms and glared at them. He took his bouncer duties seriously and didn’t like seeing so many visitors. He scowled with extra venom at Kieran, though Kieran deliberately turned his back.

  “This couldn’t wait until morning?” The healer set her bag on the table.

  Mark smiled bleakly. “We appreciate you coming. Tristan just returned from a patrol on the River Borders. Would you take care of his injuries first? And I want you to check Susan again.”

  The healer was already eyeing Tristan with a frown. Kieran slumped into one of the chairs at the table and dropped his head down to rest on his arms. He looked oddly like a first grader resting at his desk during story time.

  “Oh, and something’s wrong with him, too.” Mark gestured toward Kieran. “He’d better not be contagious,” he added to me in a low voice.

  I swatted his arm. “Mark, be nice.” I got up and showed Tristan and the healer to the back room, and brought her a bowl of water from the kitchen. Wade returned to the hall to stand watch. I had just settled back on the couch when we heard a loud bellow from the back room. Kieran’s head lifted heavily, and he looked around with bleary eyes before letting his forehead drop back down onto his arms with a thud.

  Wade stuck his head in the door. “Everything all right?”

  There was another yelp from Tristan.