Guardian's Faith

by Jacqueline Rhoades

  "Did you ask him?"

  "I did. His grandfather is old, his father is ill and his mother begged him to return; all perfectly good reasons. Evrard seems a good enough man, but I'm afraid, in the end, blood will tell."

  Blood will tell. The sins of the father will be visited upon the son. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Faith had heard these sayings all her life. What if they were true?

  Hope was her mother's daughter. Faith had heard it whispered time and again, and those same people would say Faith was her father's child and they were right; more than they could ever imagine. Like her father, she was pleasant and charming when things went her way. When they didn't, she could be vicious, but like her father, she kept her true nature behind closed doors. How many times had she heard Hope's cries while she was beaten for an offense Faith had committed and never spoke up in her sister's defense? How many times had she thought, 'You deserve it. Next time, you'll let me have my way'?

  Yes, her time with Tyn had changed her, but somewhere inside the old Faith still lived and the stronger she became, the more she felt the pull. The golden light from her fingers had flared when she was angry with Álvaro and again with the shopkeeper, Laura's father. She'd wanted to use her power to hurt rather than heal. How long would it be before the old Faith came out and did just that? Would her blood tell and what would Lucien think of her when it did?

  "Do you believe that, Lucien? Do you believe that blood will tell?"

  "I don't want to. I want to believe our choices control our destinies. It's what my parents raised me to believe, but what if they were wrong? Or what if they were right and Evrard ad Gautier has chosen to follow in his family's footsteps? What do you think, hummingbird?"

  Briza believed that choices changed destinies. Goyo was her proof. Faith had chosen to help the boy just as she'd chosen not to hurt Álvaro and Laura's father.

  "Does he know what role Apollinaire played in the destruction of your family?"

  "I'm sure he does, but you have to remember Apollinaire was turned and therefore not responsible for his actions. The prejudice is mine and not that of the Paenitentia."

  "Then I think you should give him a chance, but only if his face won't influence your judgment. Can you do that, Lucien? Can you remember Evrard is not his uncle while looking at Apollinaire's face?"

  "I can try and I'm sure a certain little hummingbird will chatter at me if I forget."

  The hand at her waist strayed once more to her bottom. This time she let it stay.

  Faith had to believe that the apple could fall far from the tree. Evrard ad Gautier didn't have to be like his father or his uncle. She had to believe that while she once had been her father's child, she didn't have to remain that way. She had to believe that people could change. Otherwise, what hope was there for her and Lucien?

  Chapter 29

  "I need another."

  "But el Brujo, I just brought you one last week."

  "And now you will bring me another. A few well placed words and the neighbors will think she followed her friend."

  "Please, don't ask this of me. Her mother…"

  "Ah yes, her mother. You could bring me her instead," the Brujo offered. "As my Vigilante, I'm sure you'll be in great demand among the ladies, so maybe you'd prefer to be rid of your wife. I'll leave that up to you, Hoot. One or the other. You choose."

  "I have no choice," the man muttered.

  "Of course you do. You've always had a choice."

  The man el Brujo called Hoot frowned. "What would happen if I chose to say no? Would you kill me like the rat and leave me for the scavengers or feed me to your pet demon instead?"

  Hoot had heard the screams of the travelers the Brujo brought back.

  "Oh, Hoot, you're much too precious to me to do either of those things. No, I think I would prop you up next to my friend over there where you could continue to serve me as a warning to others who thought about saying no."

  Hoot stared at the bleached bones in the corner. The skeleton was wired together and posed with its arm across the back of the seat formed by the stone. The ankle of one foot was propped up on the knee of the other, giving it the look of casual relaxation. Hoot swallowed hard and closed his eyes.

  "I'll have her here tonight, el Brujo," he said when he opened them again.

  "I knew you'd make the right choice. Off with you now. There's work to be done and I have an appointment I must keep," el Brujo said pleasantly.

  When Hoot was gone, the brujo turned to the skeleton in the corner.

  "I'm so glad you're here to witness this. Oh, I agree. It should have happened years ago, but better late than never, eh? It wasn't the way we envisioned it, but it all worked out in the end. I never planned that you should die by my hand. It was a decision made in the heat of the moment and I have regretted it ever since. Rest assured you are remembered as a hero, my Lord, but then again, so am I. It was poor Mendoza who took the blame, but you know this of course. I tend to forget how often we talk."

  The brujo bent at the waist in a low bow. "You'll have to excuse me now," he said, "I must attend to my pet. He becomes testy when he isn't fed. Stupid creatures, really, but they have their uses."

  He went back to the farthest reaches of the cave and marveled once again at his discovery of it. It was another sign that this was his destiny. There was no other way to explain it.

  He smiled at the thin man tied and shivering in the corner and then at the small scaled creature watching them both with greedy eyes. The brujo unhooked the mirror from his belt and hung it from the peg affixed to the post just outside the circle of salt that confined the demon.

  "Call your master, Athabastin, and you can have your dinner while we talk."

  *****

  Agdta's arm and foot remained swollen. Faith did what she could to minimize the discomfort, but there were limits to her powers. Agdta's body was reacting to the trauma it had suffered and while the break in her arm was mended and the torn tendons in her ankle were repaired, there would still be some residual swelling until her body adjusted to being so quickly healed. The best thing for it was rest. Agdta didn't take well to sitting still.

  "I can't sit here all day. There's too much to be done. The rooms still need cleaning, the meals need to be made, the dishes need to be washed and who will do the laundry?" she huffed when Faith insisted she sit in the chair and put her feet up. "It's my day to go to the village and pick up supplies."

  "Vasco can handle breakfast," Faith told her while the old man stood behind his daughter shaking his head back and forth and waving his hands in a definite no. "Yes you can, Vasco. Agdta will tell you what to do and you will do it. Let the boys handle the dishes, both setting the table and washing up. I'll take the van, pick up supplies, and be back before dark. Who do I talk to about hiring some women to come and help out?"

  Supply day was also time for Agdta to visit with friends. If Agdta couldn't go to the village, then Faith would bring the village to Agdta.

  "Briza, but it's not time," Agdta protested weakly.

  "It is now," Faith told her. "I'll see to the laundry and one of them can do the ironing. You can sit in your chair and visit while you supervise."

  "What will the Patron say to all this," Agdta asked worriedly.

  "You said it yourself, Agdta. He has declared me to be mistress of this House. If he doesn't like it, he can fire me."

  "Then the battle is won before it is fought," Vasco cackled. "If he fires you, he'll have to sleep alone."

  "Papi!"

  "What? You women have always had more power than we men like to admit."

  Faith wasn't sure that was true and she would never refuse to share Lucien's bed. She was finding too much pleasure in it. Still, if having Vasco on her side helped convince Agdta her ideas would work, she wasn't about to disagree.

  *****

  Mendoza's was almost empty so Faith didn't have to endure the stares and whispers as she had before. She waited for the few remaining customers to
leave before approaching the counter and heaved another sigh of relief when she saw Laura behind the register.

  "You're just in time," the girl said in greeting, "I was just about to cash out the till. What can I get for you?"

  Faith told her what she needed and the girl held up her finger. "Let me finish up and I'll help you load." She motioned to a younger, dark haired boy who was stocking shelves. "We're done for the night, Pirro. Run home and tell Mama I'll be along as soon as I finish helping a customer load her order."

  The boy grinned and took off at a run, leaving his half empty box in the aisle.

  "My brother," Laura laughed. "I guess I should have said after you finish with that case. Tonight's my stepfather's poker night so Pirro and I watch the store. Your stuff is over here."

  "How are you doing?" Faith asked before she picked up the first box. Life would be so much easier if she could use her voice instead of her hands.

  There was a name for her condition and in the beginning doctors assured her that her voice would return within a few months. It had been over two years. Psychotherapy was suggested, but was out of the question unless she wanted to be relegated to the company of those who thought they were George Washington or Joan of Arc. Lucien thought her voice would be fully restored in time, but Faith wondered just how eager he was to have that happen. He seemed so pleased that her few words were only for him. Still, she tried, but her efforts brought no results.

  "I miss Rosie, but there's nothing I can do." Laura slid her box into the van and returned for another. "They've searched, both men and shifters, and there's no sign of her. She hated it here and she made sure everyone knew it, so maybe she did run away. In which case, I'm really PO'd that she didn't wait for me. At least I could have said goodbye."

  Faith slid her box in next to Laura's and shifted them a little to make room for two more. "Maybe she knew you didn't really want to leave and she tried to make it easier for you."

  It was small consolation and Faith didn't really believe it. Teenage girls might put their own wants front and center, but they took best friends forever seriously.

  "My stepfather says she probably hitched a ride with some travelers. Maybe he's right. Maybe they wouldn't wait for me. All I know is her mother's really torn up about it. I never thought about that part before," Laura admitted, confirming Faith's self-centered theory. "I know the memory is going to fade. It's already started. That's part of being Forgotten, but I think her mother's always going to feel like something's missing. I couldn't do that to my mom."

  Laura's insight made Faith think of what her sister must have felt after Faith ran away. She'd written, but their father had destroyed her letters leaving Hope wondering and worrying about the sister she'd pretty much raised. Faith had so much to atone for and she wasn't sure if she could ever make it right.

  "And your gift? Any more signs?" Faith asked after closing the van's back hatch securely.

  "I think it's something to do with fire," Laura whispered after looking around to make sure she wasn't overheard. "Yesterday I was breaking down boxes out back. You know, making them flat. I hate that job and it's supposed to be Pirro's, but he was off playing somewhere and my stepfather told me to do it. I was really pissed. I mean angry," she corrected, remembering she was talking to an adult. "And then I cut my thumb on the stupid box cutter and wham! The boxes started to smolder. It scared the shit, uh, stuffing out of me."

  "Just tell it. I'm not your mother," Faith laughed. "How bad was it?"

  "It just smoldered a little. I stamped it out with my foot. Guess I'm going to have to watch my temper, huh?" Laura didn't seem too concerned.

  "Try thinking happy thoughts. My sister said it helped… most of the time."

  Faith would have liked to talk more but dusk was falling faster than she'd anticipated. The bright sun and warm temperatures made it easy for a northerner to forget there were season's here, too, and the days were becoming shorter.

  Briza was her next stop. The shop was already closed, so she climbed the stairs at the side of the building and knocked on the apartment door. The door opened into the kitchen which was dark, but Faith could see candlelight flickering from one of the rooms beyond the kitchen. She could hear soft music playing. Briza was home. Faith knocked again, ready to apologize for interrupting a relaxing after work bath.

  After the second knock, Briza came hurrying into the kitchen tying a silky robe with the sash at her waist. Her hair was disheveled and when she opened the door, Faith noticed her lipstick was smeared. She was surrounded by the sweet smell of gardenias.

  Seeing who it was, Briza closed her eyes and smiled a very satisfied smile.

  "Not a good time," she said in a low voice.

  Apparently Briza wasn't holding her breath waiting for Álvaro to come around. Faith felt a little sorry for the Vigilante, but it wasn't any of her business. The two had been feuding for twenty years and Agdta was right. One was as foolish as the other. She did wonder, however, if husband number three was hiding behind door number one.

  "Sorry," she said, coloring a little, "I won't keep you." She quickly told Briza what she wanted.

  "Done. Now go away, I'm busy." Briza closed her eyes, smiled serenely and closed the door.

  *****

  Laura finished stocking the shelf with the rest of the cans from the case her brother had left in the middle of the aisle. He was only ten and easily distracted and he sometimes drove her crazy, but on nights like this when she was alone in closing the store, she missed his company.

  After locking the front door and flipping the sign from open to closed, she gathered the money she'd collected and counted from the register and turned off the lights in the main part of the store. Putting the store to bed her stepfather called it and she supposed that fit because when she left the main floor, she always did it quietly on tiptoe just as her mother tiptoed away from Pirro's bedroom after kissing him goodnight.

  In her stepfather's office, she put the money in the safe, checked twice to make sure it was locked and set the big account ledger in the center of the big oak desk, ready to be checked in the morning.

  She was glad she'd seen Faith again. After her crazy performance the first time they met, she was afraid the healer would avoid her like the plague. She still missed Rosie, but she was beginning to think that maybe the others were right and her fears were unfounded. She was happy to have the chance to show Faith she was no longer so afraid.

  Her last acts before leaving were to make sure the back door would lock behind her and to shut off the lights to the storeroom. That done, she stepped out the door and waited for it to latch shut before taking the first steps of her short walk home. Here was where she missed Pirro's chattering company the most.

  She jumped and screeched when the hand closed on her shoulder and then felt like a fool when she saw who it was.

  "Oh! You scared me," she said breathlessly, "Is your poker game over already?"

  *****

  Since she planned to spend time visiting with Briza, Faith found herself with time to spare. Her business concluded, she knew she should head straight back, but once she was in the van and headed toward the road that would take her back to the hacienda, she changed her mind.

  She wanted to see more of the landscape. There were few roads and Faith was sure she could find her way home. She'd listened while the others talked and thought she could find the Paenitentia enclave. She simply wanted to see it and had no plans to stop in and say hello. She was sure her welcome would be no better there than it was in the village. She just wanted to get her bearings.

  She also wanted to see the Hills of the Dead up close. She'd heard them mentioned several times, but had only seen them in the distance. The idea of haunted land fascinated her. Faith laughed at the thought. After having spent two years in the company of demons, she had no fear of ghosts. It was time she got the lay of the land.

  She was no longer a visitor. Her stay here was no longer temporary. This place was now her hom
e. That idea made her smile, too, until she thought about breaking the news to the others. Grace would be happy for her. JJ would be proud. Hope… well… Hope was Hope. She'd be worried. No, she'd be more than worried. She would want to fly to Faith's rescue, sure her baby sister had gotten herself into another situation she couldn't handle. Faith needed to write another letter soon.

  Since coming to the hacienda more than Faith's body had changed from child to woman. Others might not see it, but she felt it inside. Laura trusted her and looked to her for advice. Briza thought she was strong enough to right the things that had gone so wrong in the village. Even Agdta followed her instructions that morning. She was acting like a competent adult. They no longer saw her as a child.

  The Paenitentia enclave would be pretty hard to miss, though Faith couldn't see much of what was inside. If the tile rooftops showing above the high brick walls were any indication, the homes were large and expensive.

  It was no wonder they didn't see too many demon attacks. The place looked like a modern day fortress with towers set at even intervals along the walls. Faith wondered if they were manned or just for show. The road, which was paved about a mile out from the compound, led to a set of massive iron gates which were closed against unwanted visitors. There was an intricately designed seal in the center of the gates that would be split in half when they were opened, but Faith wasn't close enough to see what it depicted. Fortunately, the road also curved to the west and Faith drove another mile before turning back.

  Two dark blue vans, much larger than the one she was driving and marked with the same symbol as the gate, were waiting at the gate when she passed by a second time. A uniformed guard was at each driver's window and each looked up as Faith passed. Judging by the hour, she assumed the vans contained the nightly workers Agdta had spoken of.