by Sher Dillard
Chapter Four
Thad scanned the street once again. Rachel might not want him around. But, that didn’t stop his need to protect her. Nothing would stop him from ensuring that nothing ever hurt her.
The knowledge that the Gray man was in the area made it even more imperative that he protect Rachel.
For two days he had stood outside the butchers, across from Rachel’s library, and watched the people of Carster pass by on the street. The rich smell of fresh meat from the shop behind him calling to the beast inside of him.
The city was different than others in the Kingdom. Older, more genteel. The people were focused on their tasks. Maybe it was the University. Or the respected King and his court. But, the city seemed safer. As if a man could walk down the street without fearing someone shoving a knife in his back.
The fact that that sense of calmness did not extend to Rachel and her library ate at his soul. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. She should not have been brought into this.
Not for the first time, he wondered who had sent the two men, had it really been the Gray man?
A sickening sensation at the bottom of his stomach told him it was the gray man, the beast who had attacked his brothers. Who had attacked and failed both times. The shifter who had tried, but failed, to retrieve the coins.
Why Rachel? Had her simple questions driven the monster to attack? Did she know something that she hadn’t told him?
Thad ran a hand through his hair, then adjusted the sword hanging on his hip. He would get his chance.
Should he be searching for the Gray man? But, to do so, would leave Rachel unprotected.
No. He would stay here. Guarding. Watching. He would get his chance.
.o0o.
The city had grown quiet with the darkness. The night air bringing the soft sound of a city asleep.
Still, he watched.
A movement caught his eye. Thad pushed himself away from the building he had been leaning against.
A man, short, sneaking from an alley two doors down from Rachel’s.
The man stopped and looked both ways before scurrying down the street. Every alarm Thad possessed began to ring. Something wasn’t right. He could feel it in his bones.
Stepping into the street, he began to cross the dusty road.
It could be so many things. A lover sneaking from the room of another man’s wife. A thief, scurrying to avoid the city watch. Anything.
He paused in the middle of the street, deciding to follow the man. He needed to make sure the man wasn’t interested in Rachel.
A flicker of yellow from within the library made his heart jump.
No, it couldn’t be.
Fire!
He raced across the street and threw his shoulder into the library’s door, shattering it into a shower of splintered wood.
The room was already fully engulfed. The books, the invaluable knowledge, and history were ablaze. In the corner, a can of coal oil lay abandoned.
Even within the few seconds he had taken to orient himself, the fire had grown, spreading to the walls. Jumping from book to book. From floor to wall.
A feeling of dread washed through him as he saw the staircase ensconced in flame. Deep black smoke hugged the ceiling and slowly accumulated. Growing like a cloud of death.
Thad’s heart raced as he tried to understand how, why. The books. They would be lost. He could not save them.
Rachel? My God, even now, the smoke would have invaded her rooms, would be suffocating the very air from her lungs.
Thad didn’t think, didn’t plan. He ran for the stairs, praying the fire ravaged wood would hold. Taking three stairs at a time, he drove himself through the smoke and to Rachel’s door.
The orange flames ate at the hallway as he forced himself into her room. The fresh air of her room swallowed the flames, bringing her room alight with death and danger.
She was asleep, unconscious. Had the man hurt her before setting her world on fire?
He’d kill him. He’d kill any and all that had assisted him.
Rushing across the room, he bent and felt the pulse at her neck, she lived. A sense of relief and thanks passed through him.
Save her he told himself. That is all that matters.
Wrapping her in the blankets of her bed. He made sure she was fully covered, then lifted her onto his shoulder. The woman was as light as a down comforter, and just as soft.
Glancing down, he saw that the Velenciter volume he had given her three days earlier resting on her bedside table. Had she been reading it? Had she thought of him when she did?
Without thought, he scooped it up and slid it into his pocket. At least he would save one of her books.
Adjusting her on his shoulder, he turned.
A wall of flames stood between him and her staying alive. Ducking to keep her from the smoke and flames, he ran. The yellow fire licked and touched him as he dove through the maelstrom. The heat trying to sear his lungs. The flames searched and scraped, trying to get ahold of the treasure he held on his shoulder, but he was too fast, too swift.
Reaching the stairs, he hesitated. Would they hold? Taking a deep breath, he began to descend. He needed to hurry, even he couldn’t breathe smoke forever.
Holding his breath, he raced down the stairs. He could feel them giving with each step. He moved fast, never staying on one step long enough to transfer his full weight.
When reaching the bottom, he didn’t hesitate, didn’t look back, but passed through one more wall of flame and into the freshness of the outside.
The locals were mobilizing, their shocked faces set in determination, as they scurried to fill buckets and organize. Thad ignored them. Gently lifting Rachel to the ground, he hesitated for a moment, as he pulled the smoldering blankets back, frightened to death of what he would find.
Rachel’s face was white, her eyes closed.
His heart jumped with fear as he studied her. What should he do? How could he save her? Every fiber of his being demanded that he fight. That he do whatever it took to save this woman. Yet, here, now, there was nothing more he could do.
She wasn’t breathing. An unbelievable fear raced through him. Without thought, without a plan, he leaned down and breathed into her mouth.
Please, he begged, breath.
She shifted her head back and forth as if trying to rise up through a deep lake. At last, her eyes opened, and she gasped a deep breath, as if sucking in a bucketful of fresh air.
Thad felt the world shift beneath him. She would live.
Her eyes opened, as she stared up at him, trying to understand. Fighting for comprehension.
“You are all right,” he said, tenderly laying a hand on her shoulder. “You are all right.”
She searched his eyes for a moment. Looking up at him with thankful tenderness. Then, as if remembering, she turned to look at her library and screamed, “No!”
Thad had to forcibly keep her down less she rise and rush back into the flames.
“You are all right,” he repeated. “That is what is important. Always remember, that is what is important.”
Her eyes stared at the burning building. The yellow flames reflected in her glistening eyes as she tried to understand the tragedy that had befallen her.
His heart sunk with disappointment at her loss. The building, the books, her home, her memories. All of it gone.
.o0o.
Rachel fought to understand. The smoke, the burning lungs, the fear that had engulfed her like the very flames that destroyed her world. Thad, appearing from nowhere.
She had been asleep. A fitful sleep full of dreams about a large man and a dragon. The last three nights had been filled with the same dream and a sense of foreboding.
Now, she knew why. Her world, everything was gone. Better that he had left her there to die with her books.
He had walked through the flames without concern to rescue her. Why? How?
She looked once more at her father’s library, and her heart brok
e. Gone. Everything was gone.
“Why?” she croaked. Her throat felt as raw as pounded fish meal.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I saw a man skulking away and came to check on you. The library was already fully engaged. I couldn’t save anything but you.
She studied him for a moment. He was as hurt with the loss of the books as she. He understood the impact on the world. He might be the only man in the world who did, she thought.
“But, why?” she whispered again. “Why my library? Why destroy it?”
“I don’t know,” he said, as he shook his head. “But, when I find them, we will learn the answer, I assure you.”
She looked up into his eyes, and her heart lurched to the side. She would not want to have this man mad at her. There was something inside of him that spoke of violence and power. She shivered, but deep inside herself, she wanted him to hurt whoever did this to her father’s library. It might not be right. She shouldn’t feel this way, she told herself. But, deep inside, it was there. For the first time in her life, she knew what it was like to want to hurt someone.
Slowly, the sounds of the world intruded between them. The crackling of the flames. The yells of the people around them, as they screamed for more water, faster.
Mrs. Dobson, the butcher’s wife, stopped to kneel next to her. Giving Thad a quick glance. Her eyes telling him to move away. She was there now and would take charge of the woman he saved.
Thad nodded and rose to step back. Rachel instinctively reached out for him. Desperately needing him near.
“I’m right here,” he said. “I won’t leave you.”
Rachel felt a warm sense of comfort wash over her as she fought to stay awake. Thad was here. Thad would watch over her. She could relax. She could allow herself to slip back into the void.
The blackness returned to take her. If she had been awake, she would have seen a large man with tender eyes looking down at her as if she were the most precious thing in the world.
What she would not have seen, is that the tender look hid the burning rage inside of him. Someone would pay for this. If necessary, many would pay.
Chapter Five
Rachel’s lungs burned as if they’d been rubbed raw with a brick. Her head pounded, and a faint whiff of old smoke and wet cloth tugged at her brain. Pulling her up out of a deep sleep.
It couldn’t be true, she thought. It was a dream, surely it was a dream.
She opened her eyes to find herself in a strange room and the memories of the night flashed into her mind.
It wasn’t a dream. Everything had been real. A deep sense of loss and pain passed through her. It had been real. The fire. Thad. Her father’s books. All of it real.
A small whimper escaped her.
“Ah, you’re awake,” the butcher’s wife said from across the room where she was folding a towel, and placing it into a drawer. “You had us worried,” the woman continued.
“I ...” she started to say, but her throat closed up with pain. Refusing to work.
“Water?” the woman asked, retrieving a large cup. “That’s what you’ll be needing.” Smiling down at her, she held the cup to Rachel’s lips.
Rachel took the cup and gently sipped. The cool water eased the tightness in her throat. Slowly, she finished the cup of water.
“How? Why?” she asked.
The butcher’s wife, Mrs. Dobson, Rachel remembered, smiled. “That stranger,” the woman said, “the tall, rather good-looking one. He’s been hanging around for days. Watching your father’s shop. Lucky for you, I’d say. I still don’t know how he saved you. No man could live in those flames.”
Rachel felt the blood leave her face. Thad had saved her. She remembered that. The blankets. Being held in his arms. Kissing her, breathing air into her lungs. She could remember it all.
“My Tommy was fighting the fire,” Mrs. Dobson said. “Stopping it from spreading to the other shops. The stranger carried you up here. Our little Johnny’s room before he left to serve on the City Walls. Never liked the business, our little Johnny. As light as a feather, you were to that stranger.”
Rachel tried to wrap her mind around all the woman was saying. The library, she needed to know.
Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she stood. Her legs felt weak, and she almost fell back to the bed, but Mrs. Dobson grabbed her arm and steadied her.
“I’d stop you,” the woman said, “but, I don’t think I could. I know nothing would stop me.”
With that, the woman gently guided her to the window, never letting go of her firm grip on Rachel’s arm.
Rachel pulled aside the curtain and looked.
Black char. That was all that was left. A single black burnt timber reached up out of the ashes. Her heart fell, and she had to grab the window sill to stop herself from falling.
“There, there,” Mrs. Dobson said, as she rubbed Rachel’s back. “You are alive, that is all that matters.”
Rachel could remember Thad telling her the same thing the night before. But, they were wrong. Her father’s books. Her home, everything. Her clothes, her mother’s hat. The small wooden box with her money and the only two pieces of her mother’s jewelry, gone. Everything was gone.
Everything except the medallion around her neck.
Sighing, she turned from the window. She couldn’t look anymore. The pain was too much. The loss too great.
“You’ll be needing a bath,” Mrs. Dobson said, as her eyes studied Rachel with real concern. “You need to get rid of the smell of smoke. It won’t let you forget.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever forget,” Rachel mumbled, as she made her way back to the bed.
“Yes, well, it is a start. I have a dress, from my younger days. It should fit you well enough. Can’t have you going out in that,” she said, as she pointed to Rachel’s night shift.
Rachel looked down at herself. Her cotton night shift had black soot stains and small holes where cinders had struck her. The shift was old and rather sheer. Thad saw me in this, she thought. Carried me in this. Had he seen the medallion?
Her hand reached up to grab the coin. Yes, it was still there.
Why had this happened to her? she wondered for the hundredth time. What next? What was she going to do? Everything she owned was gone. She didn’t even own the land the shop had been on. Her father had always rented.
Closing her eyes, she tried to regain some balance in her life. Nothing. Nothing, but a threadbare cotton shift and a gold medallion.
.o0o.
Mrs. Dobson had been right, the bath did make her feel better. The warm water had eased some of the pain. And being rid of that damn smoky smell was a God send.
The woman’s blue dress fit well enough, a little loose, but she had tightened it with a purple sash around the middle. She would return everything once she had new clothes, Rachel thought.
How are you to get new clothes? How are you to get food to eat? A roof over your head? You can’t rely on Mrs. Dobson forever.
The seriousness of her situation began to sink in at the emotional level. She needed to think, needed to plan.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the kitchen door. Before she could answer, Thad entered. His wide shoulders filled the doorway. He had to duck to avoid hitting his head. His warm brown eyes creased with concern as he scanned over her body, making sure she was all right.
He smiled at her and asked, “Are you all right?”
She swallowed hard, giving up a thankful prayer that her throat no longer hurt.
“Yes,” she said. “And, thank you. I owe you my life. That is twice now you have saved me.”
He blushed as he looked down at the floor, like a little boy being recognized for doing well. “I just wished I could have saved your father’s books.”
A shaft of pain shot to her heart and a tear formed in the corner of her eye. Every time she thought of the books, she remembered her father. How he had scrimped and saved for each book. How he would glow with ha
ppiness with each new purchase. Gone. All of it gone.
“I did save this,” Thad said, reaching into his pocket.
Rachel’s eyes grew as big as melons as he removed the little black Velenciter book.
“How?” she asked.
He shrugged his shoulders. “It was there, on the bedside table, when I was getting you. I grabbed it.”
Her hands caressed the fine leather. It hadn’t been her father’s book, it would always be Thad’s book, in her mind. She would always associate it with this man and all he had done for her.
“Thank you,” she said, as she rose up on her toes to kiss him on the cheek. “For everything.”
Stepping back, she fought not to blush. Had she really done that? She couldn’t look up into his eyes. Not now. What if he was wiping away her kiss? Or worse, looking at her with laughter at her silliness. As if she were a little girl playing at being a woman.
He reached out and took her hands in his.
“Rachel,” he said, “I am so sorry. This is all my fault.”
“Your fault?” she asked, as her brow narrowed in confusion.
“Yes, if I hadn’t asked about the coin, you wouldn’t have gone out and asked questions.”
Still, she was confused. “They were after the coin?” she asked.
“No, No,” he said. “They wanted to stop me from learning its whereabouts. They probably feared that the library would give me a clue. You almost died because of me and my stupid questions.”
“I also think,” he continued, “that you are in danger. Even now. But, I assure you, I won’t let anything happen to you.
Rachel paused for a moment, frantically processing what he was saying. He didn’t know about the coin around her neck. That was obvious. Also, the men didn’t think she knew about the coin. They wanted to destroy the books.
Danger? Did he say she was in danger?
“Why? she asked. “Why would they want to hurt me?”
Thad grimaced and moved his hands to her shoulder. His touch continued to feel right, safe, warm, and exciting, all at the same time.
“You’ve read every one of those books. Perhaps, they feared you would know something. Something that would lead me to one of the coins.”
