The Royal Guard

by Cindy M. Hogan

  She dressed and pushed the button for help. As she bent over to pick up her discarded hospital gown, she got dizzy and her head plowed into the door. She hit so hard, she knocked herself out for a moment. When the door met her body smashed up against it, it roused her. She slid out of the way as the doctor entered.

  “You fell?”

  She handed him the phone, and he slipped it into his pocket. “Apparently, I’m unable to get things from the floor right now.”

  He helped her to her feet. “Yes. Leaning over is not advised at this early stage in your recovery. Let’s get you back into bed.”

  He led her over to the bed and hooked her up to some monitors. Marisa watched, confused, as he stuck a needle into a few different cords and then changed some dials. The machine beeped loudly. The doctor swore. “Excusi,” he said.

  He pressed some more buttons on the machines and still they wailed. “Not good. We need those machines hooked up to you, but we can’t have that obnoxious noise either. I’ll turn them off for now and see what can be done.” He pressed another button and the screeching stopped. He left the room.

  While waiting for him to return, she fell asleep. She dreamed she worked in a mine as a slave for Tara. She woke with a gasp. Both Nurse Falco and Doctor Bellandi were in the room talking to the guards. Actually, they were arguing.

  “No,” Doctor Bellandi said. “For her safety, she must be moved. You can help with the process to make it easier for everyone, but I will not let you block the action. She could die, and we wouldn’t even know it.”

  “What do you need moved into the room?” The taller of the two guards asked, his thin lips barely moving as he spoke.

  “The patient and her belongings. That is all. Nurse Falco, please retrieve her personal belongings.”

  “We will bring the patient and her things,” the other guard with tree-trunk biceps said, stepping toward Marisa.

  “Whatever you need to do,” Doctor Bellandi said. “That’s fine, but do it now. We need her on the monitors.”

  Marisa was moved to the new room.

  “Are you comfortable?” the doctor asked.

  “I am. It is very important that you do not get up.” He gave her a meaningful look. “Without assistance. We can’t have you falling again.”

  Only then did it dawn on her why he had used that needle on those hoses and why he had changed the dials. He needed her to be in this room, in this bed for some reason. The only reason she could come up with is that someone was going to come and get her. Whoever her dad was sending was coming. What her dad didn’t know was that she was going to refuse their help and remain to face her punishment. She hated that the doctor had to ruin his machines for a rescue that wasn’t going to happen.

  She was tucked in nicely into her new room, monitors attached. She figured she had the entire day to wait it out. Certainly the escape would happen under the cover of night. She finally received her Tylenol with a bit more broth and crackers and fell off to sleep, her headache still raging and feeling slightly uncomfortable with the idea that two prison guards were watching her every move. Again, she dreamed of mines and money and was engulfed with the desire to flee.

  She woke to Nurse Falco taking her pulse and inviting her into the bathroom to relieve herself. The nurse walked next to her this time, Marisa not feeling dizzy or weak as she went. When she reached the bathroom, the nurse pointed out the emergency button again and then slipped her a note. “I’ll be right outside the door if you need me.”

  Marisa read the note first thing:

  Push the green button. A door will pop open. Get dressed in the jumpsuit inside. Do not zip it up all the way and do not put the hoodie on. Put your hospital gown over it. The nurse will offer you a blanket when you call her. Tell her you’d love a blanket, and she’ll know you are ready to leave the room. She will drape the blanket over you to hide the suit.

  Marisa furrowed her brow, but pushed the green button anyway. A panel next to her popped open. A black cat suit fell out onto the floor. She scrambled to pick it up and tried to shove it back in, but she couldn’t get it small enough to allow the compartment to close. Exasperated, she looked for somewhere else to hide it, but there was nowhere. Her throat was dry and it felt like little knives were stabbing into her gut. If she left the suit in there on the floor, the guards might see it and then she’d get the doctor and nurse in a lot of trouble. She wasn’t willing to do that. She couldn’t hurt anyone else.

  She growled and closed her eyes before sliding it onto her body, careful not to topple forward and hit her head again. Just because she was wearing the suit, didn’t mean she’d have to go with her rescuers. She pressed the button and did as instructed, the nurse wrapping her up as she left the bathroom. She kept the blanket snuggled around her as she climbed into bed and then pulled the covers up to her neck. The nurse did not hook her up to the monitors. Another meal came. This time broth with some vegetables and a few noodles. She even got a thick slice of bread. Her head still pounded, but at least her belly didn’t ache with hunger. Not that it would matter when she was executed.

  She tried not to focus on that. Instead, she started focusing on what had happened after she met up with Tara outside Murazzi’s. She could only get to the point of getting into the car with Tara. She thought of the strong drink Tara had ordered her and how they had chugged their drinks before leaving. She must have put the drug in the drink while Marisa was in the bathroom.

  Frustration set in, and she wanted to get out of the bed, but she remembered she had the suit on and couldn’t. Sounds of crashing and banging accompanied with a heavy dose of shouting filtered into the room. The guards looked at each other and immediately moved to the end of Marisa’s bed. They pulled out their guns and pointed them at the door. A chair flew by the window cutout in the door. The noise intensified and more voices screamed and shouted. The next thing she knew, four cables fell from an opening in the ceiling, like arms reaching down to grab her. The arms grabbed onto a thin, narrow section of mattress that was only as wide and long as she was and began to lift her. Her sheets and blankets went with her. There was so much commotion outside the room that it masked the noise of the cables attaching and lifting her up into the ceiling right behind the guards.

  13

  Panic filled her, blood rushing swift through her veins. No. This was not happening. She thought about sliding off the conveyance, but she was already five feet off the bed, and it would be no easy task to get out of the burrito of blankets she was in. She could see as she rose into the air, that no trace of her or what had removed her from the room would be apparent. She could call out, but then she would be putting the rescue team in danger, too, and she didn’t think that would be fair or right. They could be killed by the two guards at the foot of her bed, who were totally ready for a fight. She saw that under the thin mattress and blankets had been a neatly made up hospital bed. No. She was committed now. She was being forced to do her father’s bidding. By the time she’d given in to her fate, she was completely inside the ceiling. A woman grabbed her and rolled her off the conveyance, a dim light hanging from the rafters casting an eerie glow over the space. As she was rolled from the conveyance, a man took hold of it and the dangling bed covers and moved them to another part of the secret room or tunnel or whatever it was without so much as a sound. Then the woman, quick as a flash of lightning, slid the ceiling panel into place.

  Marisa knew the castle was riddled with secret passageways, and she knew about most of them, but since she didn’t work in the medical wing of the castle, she was not aware of this one. She wondered if it could only be accessed through the ceiling, and if so, how many people knew about it. She wondered if even Christian did.

  The woman helped her stand and whispered into her ear “We are from Division, sent to rescue you. Please do not speak until we are in the car away from the castle grounds, and move as carefully and quietly as possible.”

  Marisa stared at the woman’s face and eyes, and she dre
w her head back slightly. Her rescuer appeared to be a teenager. The girl smiled at her and leaned in one more time. “Don’t worry, I’m much older than my age gives me credit for.” The girl helped unwrap Marisa from her burrito blanket and ripped off the hospital gown. She indicated that Marisa should put her hoodie on and zip it up. Marisa worried she wouldn’t be able to see, but somehow, through the fabric, she could, and she was happy to find she could breathe, too.

  She and her two rescuers moved silently along the walkway and right up to a wall. She raised her eyebrows. They had led her to a dead end? Pretty terrible planning there, but the girl moved a few latches and the wall opened up—to the night sky. The girl disappeared through the opening, only to peek her head back inside and wave Marisa forward. She obeyed, taking hesitant steps, trying to orient herself. These people said they were Division. Who was Division, and how did her dad know about them? She wanted to trust this girl, but the last girl she had put her trust in had used her and in truth, ruined her.

  The girl grabbed hold of her with surprising force, attaching a seat-like contraption around her legs and waist. The girl demonstrated how to climb down the castle exterior. They were only two stories up, but in the dark and with minimum strapping, it could have been ten. She had no choice. She had to trust this girl. She took a deep breath and used the self-restraining lever system to get to the ground. She was winded by the time she reached the ground. The man was already on the ground when she got there, but she didn’t miss the fact that the girl was descending the wall without any ropes. As soon as she landed, the girl slid next to the man and whispered, “Ace is going to be so pleased when he hears how well the extraction device worked.”

  “I hope the suits work just as well,” he said as he unstrapped Marisa, letting the gear fall to the ground. He didn’t retrieve it.

  Instead, he leaned in and said, “I’m Jeremy, this is Christy. We’re going to get you out of here. On my signal, I will need you to get on my back, and I will carry you to safety.” Marisa looked around, finding the eight guards who prowled this side of the castle without any problem. As if he had anticipated this, Jeremy said, “The eight guards here and the eight guards near the gate won’t even see us. With these suits, we’re virtually invisible.” She looked back to the girl he had called Christy, but she couldn’t see her. Where had she gone? Then the straps that had fallen to the ground rose in the air of their own accord. She heard the girl’s voice in her ear. “It’s me, don’t worry.” The items disappeared into mid air. Christy must have put them inside her suit.

  “Time to go,” Jeremy said. “Hop on.”

  “I’m a really fast runner.”

  “Not today you’re not. You’ve been through a lot. We can’t risk you falling or getting weak. I need to keep you close.”

  She hopped on his back even though she felt like an idiot. She heard a click, and Jeremy disappeared. She searched for her arm securely around his neck and couldn’t see it either. He must have turned on whatever it was that made them invisible. He walked normally, Christy right behind them. She listened hard, hearing nothing but his footfalls. Christy must have been stepping at the same time Jeremy was. The distance to the castle gate was far; she doubted the endurance of this guy. She was almost as tall as he was and solid muscle. She wouldn’t have been able to carry him that same distance or even someone just like her. But he kept going. Halfway. Three quarters.

  And then she saw him—Christian, only feet from her and near the wall, talking on a cell phone. Jeremy stopped and moved his neck. She hadn’t realized she was squeezing his neck with her arms. Seeing Christian had made her tense. Jeremy must not have been able to breathe. She slid off his back, and she could hear him breathing again. Her head shot to the captain. He had hung up the phone and was looking right at her. She knew that if he discovered her, he would assume she had been in on what had happened at the castle and she was a willing traitor.

  She looked down. Had she somehow disabled the invisibility feature of the suits? Then Christian disappeared, only to reappear as he fell to the ground. “Get back on,” Jeremy commanded once he was back at her side. She did and they sailed past Christian. She was levered up and over the twenty-foot wall. After she was unhooked, the gear went back over the wall, and the captain came over next. She watched as invisible hands, they must have been Christy’s, brought him to the ground next to her. He was still out.

  Next thing Marisa knew, Christy told her to climb onto her back, and Christian was suspended in the air, moving away from the wall in what must have been Jeremy’s arms. They met up with a car about a mile away from the castle on a residential street. Christian had started to rouse, but then stopped. Marisa wasn’t sure why. Three invisible bodies and one unconscious one slipped into the car. Christy rode shot gun. It sped away, its driver already in place, his narrow face and pencil thin black mustache made him look like a caricature drawing. He said something in French and then sped off. With two clicks, those that were invisible became visible. Immediately, Jeremy restrained the captain with plastic cuffs on his feet and hands.

  “You aren’t going to hurt him are you?” Marisa wrung her hands.

  “We have no intention of hurting him,” Christy said from the front seat, her long brownish-blond hair sticking out in all different directions as she removed her hoodie. She didn’t even try to smooth it. “But it might turn out to be lucky that we have the captain of the guard.”

  So, Christy knew who he was. The driver radioed in, “Package plus one on their way.”

  “We’ve got twenty minutes to hash this out, Marisa,” Jeremy said, as he scrubbed his hands over his face after unzipping his hoodie and letting it fall behind him. Marisa followed suit, but she took pains to fix her long deep brown hair as best she could without a mirror, her fingers raking through it to remove tangles. Now that Christian was involved, she wanted more than ever to get both herself and Christian—none the wiser hopefully—back to the castle. He as captain of the guard and she in the dungeons, answering for her crime.

  Christy looked so young, Marisa thought. Younger than her, but how would that be possible? She was only twenty-three. The team Christy was with was ultra sophisticated and professional. That type of team was extremely selective about who worked with them. Way more selective than the personal royal guard, she was sure.

  “I want to thank you for following my dad’s orders and getting me out of the castle in such a cool way,” Marisa said, knowing she sounded fake and cheesy, but wanting to make sure they knew she thought they were pretty amazing. “However, I must decline any and all assistance he asked you to give me. I am guilty, and I need to face my punishment.” She even managed to smile.

  “Your dad warned us about your martyr syndrome,” the driver said. “I had no idea how bad it actually was. I’m Halluis.” He grinned at her through the mirror, his thin mustache moving as he talked.

  She crossed her arms and scowled.

  “Please, Ms. Donati. Let’s talk this over.” Jeremy brushed his hands through his hair. He was quite handsome and young too, but closer to her own age, Marisa thought. Twenty-three or four.”

  “We don’t have much time,” Christy said. “It’s time you stop trying to be a martyr and do your job.”

  Marisa huffed, her arms still crossed over her chest. “What are you talking about, my job?”

  “We need you to help us figure out what it was that Tara wanted in the castle and how we can get it back.”

  “I want to do that—you don’t know how badly. But I can’t remember anything, and I don’t see how I can help. Just return me to the castle so I can answer for my crimes.”

  Christy just rolled her eyes.

  “Why did you take the captain? We don’t need to involve him in this. If you won’t take me back, at least return him. He’s needed at the castle. ”

  “Actually,” Jeremy said. “He’s our insurance that you will comply.”

  “What?” she stormed.

  “We intend to b
ring this mission to a successful conclusion with you being cleared and the items being returned to the castle,” Halluis said. “And we can’t have you trying to run back and surrender every chance you get. So, tuck yourself in and get ready for the ride of a lifetime.”

  Jeremy chimed in, “Look. We are going to do this with or without you, but we figured you would want to be a part of the effort to ensure the royals remain safe after this breach. Whatever Tara did in the castle during those two hours could end up putting them in grave danger.”

  She narrowed her eyes and looked down at an unconscious Christian. She hadn’t thought about it that way. By helping them, she would be helping the royals, the very people she’d sworn to protect. She would help them, and in the end, she would turn herself in. No matter how she helped the royals at this point, it wouldn’t erase her treachery. “Fine.”

  “Thanks,” Christy said, her entire body twisted to face the backseat. “I’ve gone over the information sent us about the contents of the vault and everything there is to know about Tara and all her connections. Correct me if you hear something you don’t agree with.”

  Marisa nodded.

  “You met Tara at a club called Murazzi’s. She approached you on the patio, sympathized with you by making you believe she hung out at the club all the time and knew how the boys could be. She then gave you a picture of the captain’s daughter and encouraged you to use it as a way to blackmail the captain. After consideration, you decided you couldn’t do it because it would be breaking your vows as a royal guard. Honor wouldn’t allow you to blackmail him.” The clinical way Christy spoke about very personal things to Marisa made her feel cold and lost somehow. Christy continued, chronicling everything that had happened to Marisa the last three days with great accuracy. Marisa didn’t stop her once.

  “How did you get that information? I haven’t told anyone all of that.”