He looks at Dimitri to make sure he is saddled and ready to ride. When it seems all is in order, Gareth turns his horse. “You needn’t worry. I believe you will be in the open from here.”
And then we are moving, though once again, my destination is a closely guarded secret.
We pass the rest of the day in pleasant camaraderie. Our brief time by the stream seems to have reassured Dimitri, and he is friendlier toward Gareth as we make our way across several fields, some planted with crops and others swaying with wheat or grass.
The sun moves across the sky and is beginning to cast long shadows by the time we come to yet another stream. This one is much bigger than the last and winds through the verdant hills and a small grove of trees at its bank. Gareth reins his horse to a stop and jumps to the ground.
“Right on schedule,” he says. “This is where we make camp for the night.”
We find basic supplies inside the packs strapped to our horses and set about making a small camp. Gareth lights a fire, and as he and Dimitri raise the tents, I put together a simple dinner. It is not at all strange to share a camp with Gareth. Already he is like an old friend. He and Dimitri entertain me with tales of common acquaintances from Altus. They grow rambunctious in their familiarity and it is not difficult to do my part by laughing in all the right places. The fire has burned low when Gareth finally rises with a yawn.
“We should sleep if we are to make an early start tomorrow as we must.” He nods toward Dimitri and me. I am sure I catch a glimmer in his eye even by the failing light of the fire. “I’ll leave you to say good night in peace.”
He heads for one of the tents, leaving Dimitri and me alone in the chill night air.
Dimitri’s chuckle is a low and knowing rumble. He holds out a hand and helps me to my feet, pulling me against him. “Remind me to thank Gareth later.”
I do not need to ask him why he wishes to thank Gareth. He lowers his mouth to mine, his lips tender but insistent, and my mouth opens under his until everything else falls away. In Dimitri’s arms, I find the peace that eludes me in every coherent, thinking moment. I allow myself to be lost, to fall beneath the power of Dimitri’s body against mine and the tenderness in his kiss.
When we finally pull apart, it is Dimitri’s doing.
“Lia… I must escort you to your tent now.” He rubs his cheek against mine, and I marvel that the soft stubble can feel both prickly and sensuous.
“Can you stay?” I am not ashamed to ask. Not anymore.
“I should like nothing more, but I will not sleep in these strange surroundings.” He lifts his head, gazing at the darkness that becomes total beyond the light of the fire. “Not while we are on our way to the pages. It would be wise, I think, to keep watch outside your tent.”
“Can’t you ask Gareth?” I am being bold, and I do not care.
He looks into my eyes, before leaning in to press his lips, hard this time, to mine. “I trust no one else with your safety, Lia.” He smiles. “We have all the time in the world. As many nights as you wish in our future. Come now, let’s get you to bed.”
But while I am comforted all that night by the shadow of Dimitri’s presence outside my tent, I still cannot sleep. His words ring through my mind and I know that he is wrong.
We do not have all the time in the world. Only the time the prophecy allows us. The time we take from it. And the time between now and the moment when I will have to reconcile the promised future with Dimitri and my past with James.
Our camp is small and packed quickly. In no time at all, we are back on our horses, making our way through the fields once again.
After the fog at the beach where we first landed, the sun is a blessing. I close my eyes to it for long moments at a time, tipping my face back and letting the warmth of it seep into my skin. I feel the presence of those who have gone before me in the prophecy. I feel the oneness of us all, though we are not together in this world. It fills me with serenity, and for the first time in days, I feel at peace with my fate, whatever it may be.
It is just such a moment when I realize the total silence surrounding me. No horses’ hooves. No chuffing of their great mouths. No easy banter between Gareth and Dimitri. When I open my eyes, we are amid a grove of trees so small that it does not even block out the sun.
Both Dimitri and Gareth have reined their horses to a stop, though neither has dismounted. I pull on Sargent’s reins.
“Why are we stopping?” I ask.
Gareth’s gaze takes in the surrounding field and trees. “I am afraid we must say goodbye, though I wish a more sheltered location had been arranged as a meeting place for your next guide.” He shrugs. “I suppose out of the confines of the woods, this is the best that can be done.”
I try to hide my disappointment, for I have grown to trust Gareth.
“When will our next guide arrive?” I ask him.
He shrugs. “I imagine he will be here shortly, though I cannot say for certain. Our identities and schedules are kept secret from one another on tasks such as this one.” He digs around in his pack, tossing two extra bags to the ground. “Remain here until your guide arrives. The packs are well supplied and will last you a couple of days at least.”
“Will we ever see you again?” This time I am sure my disappointment can be heard.
He grins. “One never knows.”
“Gareth.” Dimitri looks up at him. “Thank you.”
He smiles. “You’re welcome, Dimitri of Altus.”
He trots his horse over to me and holds out a hand. I place mine in his. “Regardless of whether you accept the title in name, in my eyes, you will always be the rightful Lady of Altus.” He bends his lips to my hand, kissing it gently before he turns his horse and gallops away.
Dimitri and I stand in the stillness left by Gareth’s departure. It happened so quickly, neither of us is immediately sure what to do. Finally, Dimitri dismounts, leading his horse to a tree before coming back for mine.
We pitch the tent and create a makeshift dinner from the odds and ends found in the packs. By the time darkness falls, we have come to accept that our new guide will not arrive this night. Dimitri once more stands guard outside the tent while I, too cold to be comfortable, huddle under the blankets and pass a fitful night.
Several times, I believe I hear rustling amid the trees surrounding the camp, boot steps on the hard-packed ground. Dimitri must hear it as well, for he rises from the ground, his figure casting eerie shadows over the tent as he paces outside. I call to him several times, asking if everything is all right, but after a while he tells me sternly to go to sleep. To let him do the guarding without the distraction of my worry. Chastised, I will myself quiet.
I lay in the dark, my body tense for a long while before blackness finally claims me.
30
Our new guide is nothing at all like Gareth.
The first thing that catches my eye is his brilliant red hair. When he turns to greet me the sun sets it on fire in a blaze of gilded rust.
“Good morning.” Dimitri tips his head without introducing himself.
“Emrys, your guide.” He appears to be significantly older than Gareth, though not as old as Edmund.
“Good morning. I’m Lia Milthorpe.” I extend a hand and Emrys briefly shakes it before stuffing both hands back into his pockets.
I expect him to make conversation, to get to know us before we depart, but he does no such thing. He simply turns and heads for his horse, a chestnut mare tied to a tree near Sargent and Dimitri’s mount.
“We should be going,” he says as he unties the horse. “We have a long day ahead of us.”
I look at Dimitri, raising my eyebrows in silent question, and he shrugs and heads to the tent. Together we break camp, shoving the tent haphazardly into Dimitri’s pack and the blankets into mine while Emrys stays atop his horse with not an offer of help. I look at him once and find him gazing off into the woods. We’ve only just met, and already it is difficult not to think him as stran
ge.
The camp cleared of our debris and looking as if we were never there at all, Dimitri strides to his horse, tightening his saddle and placing a foot in the stirrup. After a quick check on Sargent, I do the same.
Emrys nods and spurs his horse forward, and so begins our second day, with little fanfare and even less conversation.
I don’t know if it is because we are growing closer to the missing pages or if it is simply paranoia, but I spend the day with a growing sense of foreboding. I cannot explain it or blame it on Emrys who, though not as talkative as Gareth, is not unpleasant.
As we make our way over a large hill, a town comes into view, nestled into the bowl of a valley. In the distance, elegant spires reach, it seems, nearly to the sky. It has been a very long time since I have seen a town of any sort, and I feel a sudden urge to continue on, to sleep at an inn with a soft bed, to eat hot food prepared by someone other than myself, to walk the streets and purchase something from an inviting shop or take tea in a quaint hotel.
But we do not continue toward the town. Instead, Emrys hesitates briefly as if considering his options before veering to the left. We continue through a field of wheat, haloed in the golden sun, and travel toward a charcoal smudge in the distance. As we come closer to it, I realize it is a stone farmhouse sitting at the edge of a forest. Age-old trees seem to touch the sky beyond the house and barn.
As we continue toward the farm, I wonder if it will be one of our stops or perhaps a meeting place for a more talkative guide. It is neither, and we continue past the house and a small boy who stands outside it, feeding chickens that strut in circles, pecking seed from the ground beneath his feet. He watches us curiously as we pass.
“Bonjour, mademoiselle.” A smile touches the boy’s mouth as his eyes meet mine.
France, I think, smiling in return. “Bonjour, petit homme.”
His smile widens to a grin, and I am grateful for even my questionable ability to speak French.
The shadows begin just past the house, and the sun disappears almost entirely as we enter the wood. It is not as dense as the one through which we traveled to reach Altus. The light finds its way through the trees, creating a lacy patchwork over the forest floor. It is beautiful, but even still, my chest grows heavy with anxiety. This is too much a reminder of the dark trip to Altus, of those few days when the world seemed to stand still and I lost all sense of time and myself.
We come across only one point of interest — a moss-covered stone pillar that rises bizarrely from the forest floor. It is not unusual, really, for stone tributes and sacred sites are plentiful throughout Europe. But this one reminds me of Avebury, the ancient stone circle mentioned in the prophecy.
My eyes follow it as we pass. Emrys is as quiet and uninterested as ever, and Dimitri is silent behind me. I do not bother asking them about the stone.
Some time later, Emrys slows, looking back over his shoulder at us. “There’s water up ahead. It will be a good place to break.”
It is the most he has said since departing camp this morning, and I nod in agreement. “A break would be lovely.” I add a smile for good measure, and though I think he means to return it, it seems almost painful for him to do so.
Unlike most of those we have come across in our journey, the stream is not in a clearing but is half-hidden within the shade of the forest. It is rather small and winds through the trees not with a roar or a rush but with a merry gurgle. We dismount, drinking from the stream and filling our canteens.
I am surprised when Emrys looks over and speaks directly to me. “I would be happy to care for the horses while you take a rest, Miss. I imagine the journey leading to this day has been long. We will make our destination by nightfall. There is time for a break.”
“Oh! Well… that is all right. I can care for my horse. I shouldn’t like to be a burden.” I don’t tell him that a rest, even a small one, does sound lovely.
Dimitri’s surprise gives way to agreement. “Emrys is right, Lia. You look tired. We can manage the horses.”
The energy seeps out of my body, seeming to leak into the ground at the simple thought of a rest. “If you’re certain it’s okay…”
Dimitri leans over and kisses my cheek. “It is. Close your eyes for a bit while we water the horses.”
I wander over to a patch of sun not far from the water and lower myself to the dry grass growing there. Lying back, my restless night’s sleep soon catches up to me, and I am sung to sleep within moments by the river’s lullaby.
I am not aware of anything until the touch of Dimitri’s hand pulls me from slumber. The stroke of his fingers is gentle on my wrist, and I smile, wanting to delay the moment when we will have to mount our horses once again.
“This is no way to get me moving.” My voice is still lazy with sleep.
He picks up my hand, and I feel the slide of something soft against the soft underside of my wrist.
“You’re not listening,” I tease.
The voice, when it answers, is quiet, as if trying not to be heard. “It will be so simple, if only you will do as they say.”
This voice is not Dimitri’s.
I open my eyes, pulling my hand back as I see Emrys, on his knees and holding something in his hand. Something trailing black velvet. The medallion.
“What are you… what are you doing? Give that to me! That doesn’t belong to you.”
I look down at my unmarked wrist to be sure, but, yes, it has been removed while I slept. Glancing around, I try to find Dimitri without taking my eyes off Emrys, but the riverbank behind him is empty.
“I don’t want to hurt you. I’m only doing what I was told.” Emrys doesn’t flinch, and his lack of concern over the possibility of being interrupted by Dimitri scares me more than anything.
It makes me wonder what Emrys has done with him.
I scramble backward over the hard-packed earth until my back comes up against a tree trunk. For all its solidity, I do not feel safe. There is nowhere to go from here.
“Please leave me alone.” I sound weaker than I intend but am too frightened to be angry at myself for it.
I have a moment, only a moment to curse myself inwardly. It is only then that I remember Gareth’s words: You will be in the open from here. And yet we are not in the open. We have been in the forest for most of the day and even now are well-shielded by its ageless trees.
We should have known.
Emrys stands, advancing on me with a purposeful stride. This time, there is no talking. This time, he grabs ahold of my wrist with force, falling to the ground beside me and leaning over my body as he tries to place the medallion on my marked wrist. Pulling back with all my might, I try to keep it from him. But he is too strong, even as I kick and struggle.
He has my wrist in his hand. The dry velvet crackles against my skin and the medallion, as cool and terrifyingly inviting as the sea in which I almost drowned, pushes against my flesh. Emrys’s big hands fumble with the clasp, locking it into place even as someone comes into view behind him, racing toward us with single-minded fury.
I almost don’t recognize Dimitri for the rage in his eyes and the trail of blood dripping from his forehead, but I know it is him as he pulls Emrys away, dragging him from me and dropping him into the dirt. I do not have time to feel shock as Dimitri strikes Emrys with more anger than I have ever seen displayed from one human being to another.
I am too busy pulling the medallion from my wrist.
It takes me a moment to get it off. When I do, I am so shocked that my body begins to shake, and I drop the medallion where it falls. I do not worry about losing it. It is mine. Only mine. It will find its way back to me whatever I do.
Leaving the medallion on the ground, I rush to Dimitri, pulling at his shoulders as he continues to kick Emrys, now sprawled on the ground, moaning and holding his stomach.
“Stop! Stop it!” I scream. “Dimitri! We don’t have time for this!”
His breath comes so fast that his back and chest heave wi
th the effort of it. When he turns to me, his eyes are filled with things wild and dangerous. He looks at me as if I am a stranger, and for one panic-filled minute I wonder if he has lost his mind completely. If he will not remember who I am at all. But then he pulls me to him, holding me tightly against his body and burying his face in my hair.
When his breathing finally slows, I pull back, looking at the gash that drips blood at his hairline. I reach up to check it, but pull back before touching him, afraid of causing him pain.
“What happened?” I ask.
He lifts a hand to his temple, wiping away some of the blood and looking at it as if he does not recognize it as his own. “I don’t know. I think he hit me with something. I was by the river and the next thing I knew I was waking up on the bank and hearing your scream. I came as fast as I could.”
Before I have time to say anything, the rustle of leaves a few feet away catches our attention. We turn our heads to the source of the noise and see Emrys, rising from the ground and making his way to the horses. He moves quickly for a man who has taken such a beating, mounting his horse and tearing off into the forest without a word or a glance back.
We do not try to stop him. There is nothing to be gained, and clearly, we can no longer use his services as guide.
I look up at Dimitri. “Was he one of the Souls?”
Dimitri shakes his head. “I don’t think so. If he had been, he would have been far more dangerous. It is more likely that he intercepted our original guide to do the Souls’ bidding for a far simpler purpose. It would be an easy matter to offer a peasant money in exchange for leading us astray.”
I remember the words of the man who called himself Emrys: I’m only doing what I was told.
Taking a deep breath, I look at the surrounding forest. “Do you have any idea where we are?”
He shakes his head. “Not really, but I think it is safe to say that Emrys was probably not leading us the right way all this time.”
Guardian of the Gate Page 22
