Guardian's Faith

by Jacqueline Rhoades

  The woman staring back at her was nothing but a bag of bones. Where once were small but well-rounded breasts, now there was nothing but small brown circles of nipple plastered over bone. She had no softly rounded hips, no high, firm behind that would attract attention when she walked. Every bone in her body showed clearly from under her pasty white skin.

  Her cheeks were sunken, her lips a pale gash and the nose she'd always thought of as cute now looked like an overgrown knob! Her eyes were the only things that remained the same and even they looked too large for her pinched little face. Why hadn't somebody told her?

  She sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her skeletal knees. They had told her, of course, in the gentlest of ways; Hope fussing over how little she ate, Grace making special treats she thought Faith would like, Manon always making her tea a little too sweet, JJ teasingly bullying her to take one more bite. They saw what she couldn't, but didn't want to hurt her with the truth. Her mind had reawakened, but her body remained one step above death.

  She washed quickly and donning the one little yellow nightgown she'd brought with her, she pulled back the heavy drapes. Sunlight streamed in across her cold body and she lifted her chin to its warmth.

  Like the large room used for entertaining, this room also had doors which opened on the courtyard and someone had placed a chair outside for her use. She sank into it gratefully and lifted her nightgown the few inches she needed to bare her knees. Stretching out her legs, she rested her sleeveless arms on the arms of the chair and tilted her head back. She'd forgotten how good it felt to soak up the sun.

  She must have fallen asleep because when she opened her eyes again, the sun was higher in the sky and her face was shaded by the short overhang jutting out from the roof of the house. She couldn't have been asleep that long and yet she felt refreshed. Yawning widely and stretching her arms out to the side, she looked around the abandoned courtyard.

  Like her, the courtyard was reduced to bones. It, too, had once been pretty with huge urns in the corners to hold cascades of flowers and a central fountain that now lay silent, filled with debris that had been tossed over the roof by the wind instead of the cooling flow of sparkling water. The floor of the courtyard was covered in huge irregular slabs of stone and the only green things to be found grew along their edges.

  It wouldn't take much to set the place to rights; a rake, a hoe and a good stiff broom. There were things she couldn't repair. She knew nothing of fountains and plumbing, but she could knock down the cobwebs and unused bird's nests and clear out the detritus of years of disuse. If she couldn't make it what it once was, she could make it better.

  No one was up at this hour of the day, but Faith had an idea of where to look for the things she needed. She pulled on the shirt and jeans she'd worn for three days. They would be filthy by the time she was through. There was no point in making more laundry.

  This was a working ranch and there should be a tool shed somewhere outside. Her search was side tracked by the familiar sounds of horses snorting from a long, low building made from the same material as the house. It was some distance away and as she got closer, she sniffed in the air, inhaling the familiar smell of her childhood.

  The door was wide open and a young boy was cleaning out a stall. He turned when her shadow covered him and Faith held out her hand to shake. The boy grinned and shook it.

  "My name is Faith."

  The boy grinned with a mouth that looked too wide for his face. He was at that awkward age where a boy's parts seemed to grow at different rates. His feet were much too big for the spindly legs they supported, but beneath his dirty tee, Faith could see his muscled chest and arms.

  "I know," he said, "You live in the big house with el Patron, el Demonio Cazadoro. I'm Diego. Are you his Beloved? Will you save his soul?"

  Well that wasn't the greeting she expected. El Demonio Cazadoro, the demon slayer. Did these people know about demons? Most humans didn't and the very few who met one and survived were considered mentally ill once they made their claims.

  "Who's Beloved? Whose soul?"

  The boy gave her a look that said, 'Don't you know anything?' but he didn't say it aloud. "You know, La Novia del Vampire. Are you his Bride?"

  Now she understood. Someone had been feeding this boy nonsense. "El Patron is not a vampire and he doesn't need me to save his soul."

  Diego shook his head. It was useless to argue with grown-ups.

  Faith changed tactics. She pointed and walked over to the stall that contained an old fashioned plow horse of no particular breed. In the Community of Saints, these horses were common.

  "Do you ride her?" she asked.

  "I do." The boy straightened proudly. It was a big horse and he was a strong boy.

  "Can I ride her?"

  "No!

  "Why not?"

  "She is too big for you."

  Faith drew herself up to her full height of five feet which made her about one inch taller than the boy.

  "If you are big enough, then so am I." Knowing what she looked like, she smiled when the boy covered his giggle with his hand. "When I was your age Brother Barkley used to let me ride old Bess if she hadn't been out working the fields all day." She scratched the big horse's nose and laughed when it snorted and bumped her when she stopped. "If she's like old Bess, she's as gentle as a lamb."

  "She is and so is Napoleon." Diego laughed at Faith's raised eyebrows and pointed to the next stall where another big horse watched them with placid brown eyes. "This one is Josephina. El Patron said he named them because Josephina is bigger and Napoleon was a very small man."

  This proved her theory. The man did have a sense of humor.

  Diego dug his hand into his front pocket and came up with a cube of sugar which he broke in two. He handed half to Faith.

  "They aren't supposed to have it. The Patron says it's bad for them, but they…" he poked his chin at the riding horses in the stalls on the opposite side, "…get all the attention and poor Napoleon and his wife get none. Do you think it will hurt them?"

  Faith stroked the boy's dark, messy hair back into place. She liked this Diego. He had a kind heart.

  "Not if you only give them a little and only once in a while."

  "That's easy. My Grandmother watches her sugar bowl like a hawk." He grinned sheepishly. "I like sugar cubes, too." He bowed his head for a moment and then looked up. "I would let you ride Josephine, but the Patron has left orders we are to keep you from harm."

  "Then I better be careful and ride her very slowly."

  Faith told Diego what she was looking for and he told her where to find it. It was already late in the day and if Lucien's House was anything like Canaan's, the household would be stirring.

  "I'd better go," Faith told her new friend, "Or one of us is going to get in trouble."

  She was too late. Just as she was turning to go, a shadow crossed the door.

  Álvaro angrily rattled off something in Spanish and Diego shrank back. Faith stepped back with him.

  "Sh-she was just visiting, uncle. We did n-nothing wrong."

  There was another torrent of words and Álvaro marched forward, hand reaching out.

  Faith's heart started to pound and her vision started to blur. She took a deep breath and held it to slow her rapid breathing. She was not falling through the door again. She was not!

  Her foot hit something behind her and the handle of the thing knocked against her shoulder. Reaching behind her, she grasped the wooden shaft and brought it forward, flipping the bottom up to face Álvaro. It was the hay fork from the pile of dirty straw Diego was cleaning from the stall.

  Faith held the fork pointed at his chest and let her eyes dare him to come forward. The boy behind her was trembling. She took a step to the side and nudged him forward with her hip indicating the door with her chin. Álvaro stayed where he was, his face flaming with unspent anger.

  Once outside and away from the barn, she tucked the fork under her arm and quickly signed to the sti
ll trembling Diego.

  "Go home. Go quickly. Say nothing of this to anyone."

  The boy nodded but didn't move.

  "Promise?" she added with a little bit of a smile.

  The boy nodded again and she wrapped her free hand around the back of his head and pulled it forward. After planting a kiss on the top of his head, she turned him around and gave him a little shove to start his feet moving.

  She headed for the back door, propping the fork next to it before she entered. The unlatchable door slammed behind her as she stormed up the hall. Agdta called to her from the kitchen, but Faith ignored her and hurried up the hall to her room where she quickly washed and changed her clothes. She would not have this confrontation smelling like a barn. Just as quickly, she returned to the kitchen.

  "Where would I find Álvaro at this time of day," she demanded.

  Agdta stepped back, surprised at the anger the woman conveyed with her hands. "H-he's in the dining room at breakfast. They are waiting for you."

  Faith nodded and went to the rack where Agdta kept her knives. She chose the largest one and took it with her to the dining room.

  "Papi!" she heard Agdta shouting behind her, "Papi, come quick!"

  Three of the four men partially stood when she entered, but she was seated before they could complete the gesture. All eyes were on the kitchen knife she laid next to her plate until her hands moved.

  "Whoa baby!" Lalo blurted from across the table. He slid his chair back in preparation for the fur that was about to fly.

  Faith was so angry, it was a moment before she remembered that neither Álvaro nor the Liege Lord could understand what she said. She snapped her fingers impatiently at Adam, who sat by her side.

  "Uh, yah, uh, I don't think I got the whole thing," Adam said nervously.

  Faith snapped her fingers again. It was Lalo who blurted out the translation.

  "She said if you ever frighten a little boy like that again she's going to cut your heart out."

  Chapter 9

  Lord Lucien's eyes widened more with amusement than actual concern. He looked from Álvaro's scowling face to Faith's furious one.

  "Picking on little boys now, are we?" he asked his old friend.

  "It was Diego. He was supposed to be working, not wasting time."

  Both trainees were busy stuffing their mouths with omelets and ham hoping to stay out of whatever trouble was brewing. Faith slapped the table in front of Lalo because she trusted him to deliver the words as she said them. When he looked up from his plate, she signed.

  "Get out of here! I'm not saying that."

  The girl looked like she might take her knife to the trainee. Lucien had to bite his lip. She was half the size of every man in the room, but she looked like she was ready to take them all on. Angry as she was, she was shoveling her breakfast in like there was no tomorrow. He was right. This poor child had been starved. He took a sip of his coffee.

  "Translate, Lalo. They're her words, not yours," he said soberly.

  Lalo squinched his eyes shut. "She said he wasn't wasting time. He was being nice. Isn't that allowed, or do you treat your children like slaves?"

  "I assure you, they are neither my children nor my slaves," Lucien told her after he'd taken a bite of his eggs. He turned to the door. "You may as well come in, Vasco," he called, "You'll hurt your back leaning over like that."

  Vasco entered, grinning. "Thank you, Lucien. My ears aren't as good as they used to be." He looked around the room. "What? No blood? Agdta was sure there would be blood." He sounded almost disappointed.

  "We were just getting to the bloody part. Have you had your coffee?" Lucien continued to eat as if nothing was wrong while Vasco grabbed a cup and saucer from the tray. "Adam, go tell Agdta that we'll need another pot." He chuckled when Adam shot out of the room like an arrow from a bow.

  "Where were we?" he said to the table at large.

  Lalo raised his hand like a schoolboy and Lucien raised one eyebrow.

  "Faith threatened to cut Álvaro's heart out for scaring a little boy and Álvaro said…"

  Lucien raised his hand to stop the flow and Lalo stuttered to a stop.

  "Another rhetorical, huh?" he asked, a little bewildered.

  Lucien nodded.

  Faith was becoming angrier and angrier. She slapped her hand on the table. With Lalo translating she signed her version of what happened next.

  It became a round robin of translation as Lalo interpreted for Faith and Lucien translated for Álvaro. When he'd heard enough, the Liege Lord rendered his judgment.

  "Álvaro. You went to the barn looking for trouble. You had no cause to shout at the boy. He did nothing wrong. You shouted at Faith in a language she doesn't understand and because of last night, you knew what kind of reaction she would have if you made another attempt to touch her in anger. What you didn't know is that she wasn't going to let it happen again. Last warning, Álvaro. Don't touch her again."

  "She has beguiled you," Álvaro snarled, "Just as she has beguiled my father and sister. She smiles and you melt. Send her away, Patron, for all our sakes. I insist on it. As your Vigilante, I demand it."

  Lucien had, up until then, held his temper. Álvaro was a stubborn man, duty bound to his Patron, and if he sometimes went too far, it was in the name of duty. But there was a fine line between duty and control and Álvaro had just crossed it. Lucien stood and brought himself to his full height, looking down on the man he'd seen as his friend for twenty years. His face hardened, but his fangs did not release.

  "I am the Patron. You serve as Vigilante by the will of your people and the word of my family and I have honored that agreement since the day my father died, but I am also the Liege Lord of this House. My House, Álvaro. My home. I choose who lives here. Not you."

  Álvaro would not give up. "She is not what she seems! Poor child! An angel!" he mimicked in a high brittle voice that became another snarl. "She is a bruja!" He appealed to his father. "Papi, tell him. You know what she is. Bruja." He spit the word at Faith as if it was a curse.

  Vasco had stopped whispering his translation and stared open-mouthed at the two men. Faith caught the anger from both, but none of the words. She captured the old man's chin and made him look at her.

  "Tell me!"

  He told her. "Bruja. Witch. He says you are a witch."

  And Faith knew by the sound of his voice that this was not name-calling. This was an accusation of evil.

  She shook her head and waved her hands clearly saying "No!" just as Lalo said,

  "Well, duh. Of course she is. How the hell do you guys think she does that talky-talky thing with her hands?" He wiggled his fingers, grinning. "One touch and she can com-mun-i-cate."

  "You see! Even the boy sees it," Álvaro shouted.

  Elbows on the table, head between her hands, Faith continued the shaking, "No, no, no," while the world exploded around her. The one person in the world who'd figured out how her gift worked had now blurted it out for everyone to hear.

  She stared at the empty breakfast plate beneath. Whatever it was, she'd eaten it all and in her anger, never tasted a bite. The first full meal she'd eaten in years and now it threatened to come back up.

  Never before had she missed her voice so much. Even if they could all 'hear' what she had to say with her hands, would they listen? Why should they? She didn't belong here. She didn't belong anywhere.

  At least when she was with Tyn, she knew what her place was and it was what she deserved.

  The three men were arguing. Lalo watched them with wide open eyes, unable to understand what they were shouting about, but knowing his words were the cause of it. What he did understand was they were shouting about Faith.

  Sure, she was witchy. She was a Daughter of Man and most Paenitentia didn't like them, including his mother and yeah, he knew the story. What Paenitentia kid didn't? But it was a story, right? No one he knew had ever met one, so how could they say they were bad? That was like saying the Paenitentia were all
blood drinkers just because some fucking ancestor tried to screw with God.

  Lalo liked those women at the Recruitment House, but nevertheless, he wracked his brain for some hint of what made them bad. Grace would whack your fingers with her spatula if you stole her cookies before she put them on the plate, which wasn't very nice, but his mother did it, too, and nobody could say his mom was bad. Grace also had the bad habit of hugging and kissing the guys, especially if they got hurt, but if you broke a bone, she made your favorite meal for supper. Dov told him that he let his brother break his finger once just so she'd make meatloaf.

  Hope was real quiet and hardly spoke to any of the recruits and if she saw blood, she disappeared. Col said not to underestimate her. She'd rescued her sister from some horrible situation though Col wouldn't tell them what. Hope was real pretty and what his mother would call a 'big girl'. Lalo wouldn't say it out loud because the other guys would laugh, but he wanted to find a girl someday who looked at him like Hope looked at her mate. He didn't care what size she was. He couldn't see how that was bad.

  JJ would kick your ass as soon as look at you, but when you finally got her down on the mat she'd grin real big and tell you how good you were coming along. She had the power in her fingertips to light up a demon like a Christmas tree making it easy for a Guardian to take its head or heart. Rumor had it she never took it herself. She was a puker, too. If she was so bad, why'd she make it safer for the people she was supposed to hate?

  Lalo looked across the table at Faith. She looked so tiny and frail and the way she shook, he wondered if what he said made her cry. Something really bad had happened to Faith. You could see that by the way she looked. Everyone at Canaan's House was so careful not to hurt her. Lalo felt like he should be protecting her, too, and he'd failed.

  Adam chose that moment to come back with a fresh pot of coffee. He opened the door from the butler's pantry and looked around the room. "What the hell?"

  Faith chose that moment to make a break for it, ducking under Adam's arm and bolting through the door.

  "Faith!" the Liege Lord shouted as he stood.