Guardian of Honor Read online

  She hadn't wanted fame, but she did want to make a difference. Even if the memory of her deeds was never recorded and lost in the mists of time, she'd know that she'd made a difference. Her life, her struggle to be the woman she was, would be validated. The result was more important than any acknowledgment or fame.

  Sliding off the volaran, her knees gave way, and she would have fallen if the flying horse hadn't shifted to support her. Oh boy. This was reality. And did she have any incredible deeds within her? What happened if she didn't? Would they throw her out of the Marshalls, just as she'd begun to think of them as her peer group?

  The other Marshalls approached. Reynardus smiled that nasty smile of his. "Now, let's see what you are made of." He jerked his chin at the boundary line, then waved an expansive hand at both the downed fenceposts.

  Alexa wanted to frown, but sucked in her breath and nodded. She was circled by sober-faced Chevaliers and people planting fields who'd stopped to watch. The two fallen posts were relatively close together, no more than a few hundred feet apart. This too was something that had no explanation—how far apart the magical posts were. Thealia was of the opinion that it was determined by their creation, and that circled back into the complete lack of knowledge of how to make the fenceposts, how to revive them, how to regenerate the boundaries.

  Deciding to start at a logical place, Alexa walked to the first dead inland post. Wind whipped her tabard over her surprisingly comfortable chain mail. She clinked as she walked.

  With one last glance at the gathered onlookers, she pulled her Jade Baton from the loop at her hip and curled her hands around it. As always it warmed to her touch and began to glow. A sigh escaped her. She could only do her best, and hope that it would prove her to be a true Marshall.

  Placing one foot on the boundary, she walked it like a tightrope. Her cares fell away and she was conscious as never before of the world around her. Whatever expectations others had of her, she was free to enjoy this moment of lambent sun behind pearly clouds and a brisk sea wind that left the taste of salt on her mouth. Her nose twitched and the light scent of brithenwood came with its tune. She glanced around and found a copse of trees nearby. Clouds blew away and left a dazzling sky. Sunlight caressed her face and warmed her tunic. The earth beneath her feet felt soft and welcoming. Lladrana accepted her.

  A simple melody rose from her heart, a melody she'd never heard before, and didn't really hear now. She experienced it. Notes comprised the sun and blue sky and the greenly budding brithenwood and the whiff of rich earth and salty ocean and the susurration of waves and wind. It bubbled through her, giving her peace and joy. She began to dance.

  You have found your Song! The pink-and-silver butterfly danced with her.

  "Salutations, Sinafin," Alexa said.

  Sinafin's eyes gleamed and she curled her antennae.

  Alexa flung out her arms and twirled. The bronze flames at the end of her wand fired into reality, burning strongly in the wind. Her tabard whirled out with her, like petals on a blooming flower, and she almost liked purple again. She laughed, caught her breathand gathered her dizzied senses and continued along the border, weaving dance-steps along the boundary.

  Soon enough she found herself at the next fallen post and stared down at the dimming beacon. It looked a little like a telephone pole. With shock she realized that the deep carvings in the post were depictions of monsters. Various slayers, renders, soul-suckers and other monsters she didn't recognize, including some flying ones, were shown in various death throes.

  She stared. Walked down to the base of the pole that was thicker than the top end, then back to the rounded top. Every inch of the thing was carved, even the ends. Each image was about three inches tall or wide and incised about an inch into the pole. She couldn't tell what the beacon was made of—in some spots it looked like wood, in others like stone. Its color varied from black to deep red to pink, in no design she could deduce. Occasionally a monster image even looked as if it were fashioned from a jewel—ruby, sapphire, topaz.

  Her baton tugged at her hand and she followed it. Acting like a dowsing rod, it angled to the post. About a foot and a half up the thing, pale jade gleamed. Jade, like her wand. Alexa swallowed. Two friezes of dying jade monsters circled the pole.

  She slid her own piece of jade into its sheath and touched her finger to the jade. It flared bright green.

  Sinafin perched on Alexa's shoulder.

  "Watch out!" Screams bit the air.

  Alexa pivoted. Monsters headed straight to her in a jangle of dissonant notes. Time slowed and her mind numbed as she saw the horrors up close and alive, with their sole aim to kill her.

  They carried no weapons, they needed none.

  The slayer was huge. Taller, wider than the render, with long, bilious yellow fur. Two horns curved among the nasty spines covering its head, larger spines marched down its back. Its arms hadspines too. Both legs had a spine-spur on the hock. Tiny red eyes full of kill-lust stared at her.

  Two soul-suckers glided on each side of the slayer, tall and thin, reptilian skin glistening with natural ichor. The long tentacles near their arms writhed as if waiting to hold her and suck the life from her. The huge black eyes of one of them caught hers, and she felt trapped, unable to move. Chill infused her.

  One of the renders slid in front of the soul-sucker and broke the spell. Tall, nasty, steel-bristle hair, fangs dripping. Its eyes too, were red. Its claws were already extended from the paw-hands to kill. It should have lumbered, but when it ran, the motion was smooth and deadly.

  A warhawk's scream broke the moment. Alexa stumbled back, then watched Sinafin, in bird form, dive-bomb the soul-sucker. A tentacle whipped up but missed the hawk. A render jumped at the bird and claws clanged together on empty air. The slayer swiped, and several spines shot from the back of its arm, peppering the air where Sinafin had been an instant before.

  The monsters were a stride away. The Marshalls and Chevaliers were too far away and too scattered to save her.

  Alexa acted as trained, raising her wand, using it as a weapon—a sword with a green blade. Words tumbled from her mouth, and they were the right words, a fighting chant. Blood thundered in her ears. She ducked, slid under the razor-claws of a render, swiping at its middle as she jackrabbited by. Guts and gray ichor spilled.

  Panting, she turned, slipped on gore, fell and rolled. A good thing, because the soul-sucker's tentacle-arm whipped to where she'd been. She kept rolling, cut the feet off another render, scrambled away from more pouring blood.

  She was smaller than what they usually fought, reacted differently, took chances she shouldn't have, jumped through holes that should have been too small.

  She lit on her back, head thunking against the ground. As another render bounded to her, something blocked the sun behind him. He swung.

  "Helleva! Fry, you hulking beast!" Alexa called.

  A burst of jade energy hit his chest. He staggered back, then pawed at himself. Jade fire burned him.

  Shouts. Ground vibrations. Volarans ran like horses into the fray. Marshalls and Chevaliers joined the battle. Thealia, face grim, leaned down, grabbed Alexa and jammed her on the rump of the volaran.

  Alexa's bones jarred. Her jaw snapped shut. A golden bubble coalesced around all three of them as the volaran took flight.

  Alexa wrapped her arms around Thealia and goggled at the iridescence curving around them.

  Partis is my Shield. Now you know what that means. I fight. He protects. We work as a team.

  They rose higher and the bubble thinned. As they circled back and landed, Alexa saw Partis leaning on a staff, watching them, baton ready.

  But the small influx of monsters was dead. A slayer, two soul-suckers and four renders. Their bodies littered the ground. This time Alexa hummed an antinausea spell under her breath. Better to look white and shaking with fear than to stand and puke her guts out.

  Wrong image. Guts already strewed the ground. She breathed through her nose. The spell block
ed some of the stench.

  Partis approached them, round face serious but otherwise pristine. Reynardus had hung back—but his brother and Shield hadn't come along, and it was against the code for a Sword to fight without a Shield.

  Alexa had had no choice. And no one had thought she'd be fighting anyhow. Like most women, she'd probably be a Shield.

  Thealia was an exception in that. Looking at Partis, still fresh, and thinking of her own clothes covered with mud, spattered with nasty stuff, Alexa figured defense work would suit her fine.

  That's what she'd been trained for at home. The only clients she'd had at the start of her career had been those in need of defense.

  Partis lifted her off the volaran. Though he was the smallest Lladranan man she'd seen, he had plenty of strength to toss her around—as he'd proven in their fighting exercises.

  Everyone stared at her, apparently checking her out for wounds.

  "I analyzed her energies. She is fine," Thealia announced.

  Partis lifted her purple tabard and held it up. Huge blotches of mud and ichor caked the tattered garment. Alexa swallowed. She hadn't even been aware that the thing had ripped, had been shredded in the back by render claws. A strange singe darkened the left side near her shoulder. Alexa patted her left shoulder and under her arm. Everything seemed fine. Excellent armor, maybe a little warm to the touch.

  "Well done, Marshall Alyeka," Partis said.

  The Chevaliers nodded.

  Reaction hit. The adrenaline supporting her faded. She needed to sit down...now! Forget about saving face or pride or anything else. She'd almost been killed. By monsters more horrible than any nightmares. She didn't know how she'd survived. Her blood drained from her head at the same time her sweat turned cold.

  "What—" Thealia sounded startled. Suddenly her volaran was steady against Alexa's back, and the horse's big blue eyes studied her.

  Alexa managed a weak smile. Ducking death and fighting overwhelming horrors might be all in a day's work for the Chevaliers and Marshalls, but it was damn new to her, and she didn't care for it.

  Concentrating on keeping her feet, evening her breathing and heart rate, she almost missed the concerned glances and mutterings of the group. She heard her name mangled, and her attention sharpened.

  "Yes?" she said loudly as if a question had been addressed to her.

  Shieldmarshall Faith's mouth thinned. "We promised not to lie to you ever again. Or manipulate you."

  Uh-oh. Alexa was sure she wasn't going to like what was coming next.

  "It is extraordinary that monsters attacked in the same place they'd been defeated hours before." Faith's brow wrinkled. "I can't recall the last time this happened."

  "They came for the Exotique Marshall," Reynardus said coolly.

  He probably wished they'd gotten her too.

  "Yes." Thealia's jaws worked. "We were distracted and not protecting Alyeka as we should have. This whole matter is very odd." She looked straight at Sinafin, who had settled atop the volaran's head.

  "Si—the feycoocu?" Alexa's voice cracked. Horror rose through her. Surely Sinafin wouldn't betray her.

  The butterfly curled antennae in Alexa's direction. You needed to be blooded.

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  Sick with betrayal, Alexa stared at Sinafin.

  You needed to be blooded, Sinafin repeated.

  Blooded. Spilling blood of monsters? Alexa shuddered. Her lips went cold. "We'll speak of this later." When she'd sorted mixed emotions, predominantly hurt, and could think rationally instead of feel...

  Someone cleared his throat. It was a Chevalier Alexa vaguely recognized, a tall, loose-limbed man with a tough face. He wore Lady Hallard's colors. His name was...Marrec.

  "There was a dreeth," Marrec said.

  All sound ended, even the slight swish of Sinafin's wings.

  "It was more shadow than substance, not fully materialized, but it loomed over the last render to attack Alyeka."

  "Impossible," Reynardus said. "Did anyone else see this?"

  "Improbable, perhaps," Faith corrected. "But not impossible.

  The war with the Dark is escalating, the reason we Summoned Marshall Alyeka. That means additional monsters will invade. A dreeth sounds like the next logical step up."

  Worse and worse. The volaran's warm, curved side behind her comforted Alexa. "What's a dreeth?" she asked.

  People stared at her. "A large bat-winged creature with sharp curved beak, poisonous teeth and bloated belly," Luthan said.

  A dragon? She'd always had a soft spot for dragons. Didn't seem like that would survive reality.

  Luthan frowned as if in concentration and an image formed before Alexa. Not a dragon. A flying reptile like one of those during the dinosaur age, only bigger, fatter. A pterodactyl, pteradon. Ick.

  She thought through Marrec's words. It had not completely materialized. Apparently it could come out of thin air, just as the other monsters could rise out of the ground at their last, farthest penetration of Lladrana if there was no magical boundary behind them. The rules of magic in this place were as convoluted as the rules of law at home.

  Alexa recalled the shadow blocking the sun right before she'd killed the last render. She didn't want to think of killing the render, of fighting for her life, of being betrayed by Sinafin. She didn't want to think at all.

  It was all too much. How did she pretend to be normal?

  She paid little attention to the discussion around her as she fought another battle. Terror.

  A small bark came at her feet. Sinafin again. This time as a cute black cocker-spaniel puppy with big brown eyes. That didn't help her fear.

  As a scrawny kid, Alexa had seen such a puppy and yearned for it with all her heart. But it played happily in a pet store window with littermates and the price wasn't even within the realm of Alexa's dreams. No one would buy a puppy for a foster child who'd been in their home for a couple of weeks and would probably move on in another couple.

  Sinafin lolled her tongue and tilted her head with long ears. This was the shape you loved the most in all your dreams. I can keep this shape forever, if you want.

  Alexa sniffed, picked up the puppy, and walked with the shapeshifter away from the group and to the fallen post, then back out to the cliff. Alexa whispered into silky ears. "Why did you do it?"

  You needed to know what it is to fight and fear and kill and survive and know that this could happen tomorrow too. Your training is not a game.

  Maybe Alexa had wanted it to be.

  More, you needed to know that you are a natural fighter. Your body and mind and spirit and magic will meld together and protect you when you fight, and you will win!

  "I don't think so."

  The puppy wriggled in her arms as if impatient, and licked her under her chin. I would never ask anything of you that you could not do.

  "Huh." But Alexa rubbed her face against the puppy-soft fur, wiping the tears that had leaked unwillingly from her eyes.

  Do you want me to keep this shape? Sinafin twisted until her tongue lapped up any trace of Alexa's tears.

  "No. It isn't natural for a dog to remain a puppy forever." Alexa's own words rang to her soul. She had wanted to remain a novice Marshall forever, playing at fighting instead of the real thing. Well, who wouldn't? So she was human. So sue her.

  Sinafin yipped. I thank you, then, for your courtesy. She sounded sincere. I will continue to experiment with shapes until I find the proper one for us.

  Us. That sounded good too. A unit. Alexa looked across the field. The Marshalls were walking or riding volarans in pairs, as usual. "Do Shieldmarshalls fight too?"

  Of course, when necessary, but their primary function is to defend their Swords. Sinafin jumped to the ground.

  Alexa shrugged. Well, now she knew what it was to fight and kill and nearly die, just as she'd known what it was to be part of healing and helping others survive. Someday she'd have a partner of her own, be one of a Pair. Then she'd be integral to the Marshall team.
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  Not wanting to stand alone anymore, she crossed to join the rest.

  "There should be a blooding ceremony," Albertus, the oldest Marshall, said.

  A gleam appeared in Reynardus's eye. "Oh, by all means," he purred. With a negligent wave of his ivory baton, he transported a mangled render—probably the most revolting one—that lit with a sickening thud between them.

  Alexa shortened her breath and stared beyond it, not focusing on her kill. The thought made her shiver. Killing would be a part of her life now. Maybe even daily. She'd have to accept it.

  Though killing monsters, especially those who tried to kill her, was a whole lot easier to justify than any other killing she'd done in her life, renders and soul-suckers were not flies or mosquitoes.

  "Allow me to do the blooding," Luthan said, emerging from the group.

  His leathers looked unstained, and Alexa wondered if he'd been in the short massacre. He wouldn't avoid battle.

  Luthan continued. "As a blood relative to a Marshall—" he nodded his head at Reynardus "—a Chevalier in good standing, and Representative to the Singer, I am a symbol of three of the six communities of Lladranan society."

  Reynardus's lips thinned, but he inclined his head.

  With fascinated repulsion, Alexa watched as Luthan bent to the still body on the ground and dipped his right index finger ina dark messy wound. She gulped. She was not going to like this. She stood soldier straight, eyes ahead. Suck it up, tough it out. If this was the price for being recognized by the Chevaliers, she'd pay it.

  Luthan's finger was warm. And sticky. And it smelled awful. She froze as he dabbed once on her cheek.

  Cheers rose.

  A gentle smile curved his lips. "Very well done, Marshall Alyeka. I salute you."

  Beneath disgust, pride bubbled, triumph even. It was just as fantastic a feeling as being sworn in as a new attorney to the Colorado bar. She was part of a community, had the knowledge and skills that that community valued, spoke a common language. Her mouth turned down at that—not quite, not yet, but she would! She'd redouble her efforts.