Chapter

17

Jake

Wade might have the bulk of a linebacker, but he moved with the speed of a wide receiver, charging through brush and around any obstacle between him and the band of guardians camped at Blue Knoll. We wouldn’t rest there, either. After this blitz, I’d have another long hike as we fled Blue Knoll and the threat of ambush by Cameron’s guards. I looked up at the tall pines so prevalent outside of Braide Wood and tripped on one of the rocks that dotted the trail.

Wade finally took pity on me and stopped near a stream for a drink. “Thanks for letting me see Lukyan before we left.” I wiped my sleeve across my mouth. “He and Linette are—”

“Linette? She was in Braide Wood?” Wade sat up straighter. “Why didn’t you tell me? Was she staying with her family? How did she look?”

I blinked at the onslaught of questions. Wade ducked his head with a shrug. “She was engaged to Dylan. He was a good friend. I’ve tried to look out for her since he was killed.”

My mouth tasted sour, as if I’d bitten into a lemon candy. “She seemed okay. She wasn’t planning to stay. Just wanted to find out what was happening in the clans.”

Wade nodded. “Good. I wasn’t happy when I got back from the River Borders and found out she’d left for Hazor. But it’s safer than Braide Wood right now.” Wade swooped up a large pinecone and tossed it at a low-hanging branch. “Did she still seem . . . you know . . . sad?” He was staring at the stream, and his voice grew quieter. “Do you think she’s getting over Dylan?”

I jumped to my feet, my face turning warm. I did not want to be having this conversation. “I wouldn’t know.”

He hefted himself to his feet and slapped a heavy hand against my back. “Not your concern, boy. I was just thinking out loud.”

“I’m not a boy.” I shouldered past him toward the trail. “I’m almost nineteen.”

“Really?” Wade’s voice was friendly, oblivious to my mood. “You look a lot younger. Must be your size.”

I hunched my shoulders and stormed ahead on the path.

A few miles farther, the rocky terrain leveled out. We emerged from a thick growth of spice trees to see a cluster of log buildings spread out on rolling hills.

“Blue Knoll.” Wade pointed ahead. Waves of blue ferns rimmed the forests like the wide circle of one of Anne’s chalk drawings on our driveway. The fronds bobbed as rain hit them. The mid-afternoon downpour was beginning, and we’d never even stopped for lunch. I adjusted the hood of my cloak and followed Wade as he skirted the edge of the clearing. We moved back under cover of the trees, and Wade pulled up short.

“Jake, about what you said to Lukyan.” He fidgeted with the ties of his pack, careful not to look at me. “Do you really think the One told you those things?”

I bristled. He sounded like he thought I was a crackpot who claimed to be Napoleon. Then again, if Wade had made the same declarations, would I have believed him?

“I know it sounds crazy, but yes, the One wants me to tell people that Cameron’s new Records are a fraud. Lukyan is already contacting the other songkeepers.”

Wade’s head snapped around. “He agreed to that?” I didn’t like the horror in Wade’s expression. “Do you have any idea what kind of trouble that will cause? And what Cameron will do?”

Cold cleats tromped up and down my spine as I thought of Lukyan. Was he in danger now too?

I drew myself up. “Yes, he agreed. And the One also showed me we need to reclaim Rendor.”

Now Wade thudded his meaty hand onto my shoulder. “Jake, I know you mean well. I’m sure you have a good heart, like your mother.” His face drew closer. “I’ve sworn to protect your father’s house, but I can’t protect you if you make claims like that.”

And he hadn’t even heard my most outrageous claim: that I had Restorer signs, at a time when the new Records declared there would be no more Restorers. I sputtered a protest, but he squeezed my shoulder. “Listen”—he was whispering as if the feathered moths and ground-crawlers would eavesdrop—“I’m not saying that things won’t head that way in time. I’d like to get Rendor back more than anyone. I was at the River Borders when we held back the Kahlareans. But for now you must promise to keep your mouth shut about the One talking to you, all right?” Another squeeze.

He took my silence for assent and gave me a wide smile. He released me with a last hearty thump and lumbered forward. I followed, massaging my sore shoulder.

Deeper into the wood, Wade stopped and cupped his hands by his mouth to make a chirping sound, something halfway between chipmunk and tree frog. We listened in silence, and then a call answered. Two cheeps, a pause, and then a third. Wade nodded and led me forward.

It took some maneuvering and a clamber under thick brambles to reach the hidden clearing. The size of the group had grown—more than a few dozen now—or else the numbers seemed larger because the space was smaller. Men sat in tight knots, speaking very little. Some whittled with boot knives, others stitched repairs into gear, and a few were engaged in a game with black and white stones spread in obscure patterns on the packed earth. I spotted Arland right away. He turned from a low-voiced argument with a young guardian and saw us. Relief lit his face for a second, but he masked it and stood to make his way toward Wade. Scanning for other familiar faces, I noticed Ian scowling in my direction. I jerked my gaze away.

Arland joined Wade with feigned casualness. Barely moving his mouth, he asked, “What word?”

“Council guard on the way,” Wade answered him in the same undertone.

“Do we stand now?”

Wade shook his head. “I say we move out. Gather more forces.”

Arland gave a sharp nod and issued quiet orders. A murmur rippled through the clearing. Soundless as ghosts, the men morphed from bored campers to an army ready to move. Game stones were kicked aside, gear was gathered, and camp broken. Arland led the men out through the same small break in the bracken where we had entered. Wade waited until the clearing was empty, scanned it a last time, and signaled me to head out.

The column of men wove along the blue band of foliage at the edge of the clearing, vague shapes against the thick trees. Distant homes studded the knoll. Were families in Blue Knoll facing the same struggles as the people in Braide Wood?

A sharp crack rang through the air. Someone must be shooting bear or other wildlife. Tara had mentioned that her husband was out on a hunting party. The men in front of me twisted their heads, squinting in all directions. It took me two full seconds to remember there weren’t guns in this world.

Or at least there hadn’t been before Cameron’s visit to our world.

Another shot split the air. “Get down!” I shouted, my voice sounding shrill in my own ears.

Wade grabbed my arm. “What is it?”

“Weapons.” I wrenched away from him and ran forward, waving to the men. “Down! Take cover!”

A sharp tear sounded as a bullet ripped through leaves and branches just over our heads. I ducked in reflex. The men closest to me finally grasped what I was shouting. They pulled deeper into the woods, using trees for protection. I jumped up to warn the others but was tackled from behind.

“Jake, stay down.” Wade’s bulk crushed the air from my lungs and the argument from my will. He jumped up and raced along the line of men. I lifted my head just enough to watch his progress. A volley of shots crackled, and my heart raced. One man jerked and fell. I scrambled to my feet to run toward him but was grabbed and pulled back.

“Those aren’t syncbeams.” Ian’s fierce growl came inches from my ear.

“No.” I shoved against him, but his grip didn’t loosen. “They’re guns. From my home. Let me go—I have to help.”

“Wade told you to stay down.” Ian didn’t care about protecting me. He just enjoyed hampering my efforts.

I craned my head around, searching for our attackers. My vision telescoped. Another Restorer gift. I squinted and spotted a flash of rust tunics. We were being fired on from the buildings on the edge of Blue Knoll.

More explosive pops filled the air, stirring memories of firecrackers in July.

“Take cover!” I shouted, straining to get my head above the underbrush before Ian pulled me back. “They’re behind the buildings!” Arland turned in my direction. He jerked, then stumbled back. He’d been hit too. Panic surged through me, and I wrestled against Ian. Wade guided Arland deeper into the woods in a bent-over sprint.

Ian stayed in a crouch as he dragged me back. I lurched to the side, frantic to run to the aid of the man who had fallen, but Ian grabbed me again with a curse. Wade burst from the trees and dove into the deep ferns. He threw the fallen guardian’s arms over his shoulder and dragged him to the relative safety of the woods.

“Pull back.” Wade’s deep voice resonated through the confusion of trees and underbrush. I couldn’t see Wade, but Ian guided me away from the clearing.

“Where are we going?” I panted.

“Just follow me. Can you do that much?” Ian’s voice was thick with disgust.

I was too shaken to respond in kind. “Yes. Go ahead.”

He turned and sprinted deeper into the woods, and I tore after him. Even supporting the wounded, these guys moved fast. I could have used them on my soccer team last year. I struggled to keep Ian in sight. Most of the men were stretched out far ahead of us somewhere. There was no trail. A twig whipped across my eyes, leaving a stinging scratch that began to heal even as I dodged the next tree.

I felt a presence loom up alongside me and glanced over, leading to another collision with a low branch. I shook it off and pushed my hood back so I could see better. Wade was matching my strides.

“You all right?” He was breathing hard.

“Yeah.” I jumped over a fallen tree. “How’s the guy”—I sucked in oxygen—“who got shot?”

“We’ve got him.” Not much information, but this wasn’t a great time for a discussion.

“Wade, the weapons.” I slowed without realizing it, and Wade nudged me to pick up the pace. “They’re . . . from my . . . world.” The words came out in gasps as I pushed back into a sprint.

“You can explain later. Run.”

I dug in and ran.

The terrain grew more rugged. The men’s pace eventually slowed, but we kept traveling until it was nearly dark. Wade stayed close to me, although he jogged ahead a few times to confer with Arland. Two men dropped back to watch for signs of pursuit, but there were no further attacks.

“Where are we?” I asked Wade when rocky cliffs loomed over us.

He rubbed a tired hand over his dirt-streaked forehead. “Along the Hazor border. I doubt they’ll follow us here.”

Ian passed near us. “Why would they bother, when someone can keep them informed of where we are?” He shot me a dark look.

“Hey, I didn’t tell anyone—”

“Cameron already knew,” Wade said firmly. “I found out in Lyric. Jake had nothing to do with this.”

Arland called a halt and directed the men upward. It took some scrambling, but eventually we were all safely hidden in a large cave.

Wade signaled for me to follow him deeper into the cave. When I glanced back, Ian was talking to a cluster of men. Their eyes tracked me as I walked across the cave.

Farther back into the shelter, Arland crouched near the young guardian who had been most seriously wounded. Arland’s own sleeve was soaked in blood, but he ignored his injuries, working to stop the unconscious guardian’s bleeding.

The boy’s skin had the same pale translucence as the heat trivets scattered throughout our hiding place. His eyes were closed, his breathing ragged.

“Jake, you said the Council guard used weapons from your world. How do we help him?” Wade’s voice was quiet, but the words shook me.

“I . . . I don’t know.”

Arland glanced up, his eyes narrowed. “What caused this?”

I stammered an explanation about bullets and the damage they could cause. “If it’s still in there, we should try to get it out.”

Arland didn’t seem happy with that suggestion. He lifted the wad of cloth pressed to the boy’s chest, exposing an angry, gaping tear. Blood pooled thick and black, revealing glimpses of exposed muscle. Nothing like the small neat hole I would have expected. I pushed down the bile rising in my throat.

Wade knelt and stroked the boy’s hair back from his face, making crooning sounds. Before Arland could ask any more questions, the gasping breaths stopped. The body gave a shudder, sagged, became still. I looked away. Wade’s arm slipped around my shoulders, and he steered me out of the cave.

I huddled on a boulder and wrapped my arms around myself, still fighting back nausea.

Arland emerged from the cave and walked over to join us.

I looked up at him. “You just left him?”

“The men will take care of it.” Arland met my eyes, unflinching and cold, but I sensed the fierce sorrow and anger behind his words. I sensed it because I felt it too. I’d never seen someone die before. Everything inside me screamed that it was wrong. Senseless, a mistake, wrong, wrong, wrong. And I hadn’t even known his name.

“I tried to get to him. Ian wouldn’t let me.” It seemed desperately important to explain.

“I told you to stay down. Ian was following orders.” Wade was matter-of-fact.

“But—”

“Jake, we need to make plans. Arland seems to think we should include you in this discussion.” I heard Wade’s thoughts behind his simple words: Don’t lose it now, Jake. Hold it together a little longer.

I took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay.” My voice sounded small, but it didn’t quaver.

Arland settled heavily onto a large stone, bracing his injured arm against his chest. “Can we spare a messenger tomorrow?”

Wade nodded. “Should we set up a base here until we get word back?”

“It’s as good a place as any.”

I struggled to follow the conversation but realized I was confused about something.

“Wade? Who’s in command of this . . . well, whatever this group is now?”

He didn’t answer me, but exchanged looks with Arland.

“Wade is giving the orders.” A crooked smile softened the grim planes of Arland’s face. “But I don’t blame you for being confused. He’s not much older than you, is he?”

Wade made a low sound in his chest in protest. “Arland is the leader of the guardians. Or what’s left of us.”

“But Wade has been bringing us orders from one of the head guardians—the one who kept us together when the guardians were disbanded. The man that these men are here to follow,” Arland said.

It began to make sense. “Tristan?”

“Told you he’s smarter than he looks.” Arland shifted his weight and looked at Wade. “Do we go ahead with the plan?”

Wade shrugged. “I don’t see any other choice. Once Tristan rejoins us and we build our force, we’ll have at least a chance.” Wade cuffed my shoulder. “Every sword arm helps, right, Jake?”

Arland’s eyes narrowed as he watched me. He was waiting for me to tell Wade that I was more than one spare sword arm—that I was the Restorer. I couldn’t do it. Wade didn’t have a bit of guile in him and would never keep my secret. The thought of the men’s response to my claim paralyzed me. I hadn’t been of any use at all in this first skirmish. How on earth was I going to win their trust and convince them to fight for Rendor? Wade had already warned me not to talk about hearing from the One, and he didn’t know the worst of it.

I gave a small shake of my head, and Arland frowned.

“So,” Wade said, “a messenger tomorrow to Tristan. We’ll send out what word we can and keep gathering men.” Wade paced the hard-packed earth with an eager energy that amazed me. “Let’s get some rest.”

“We’ll be along in a minute,” Arland said smoothly. “Jake, will you help me tie up this scratch?” I winced at the amount of blood soaking his tunic sleeve but nodded. Wade called an easy “good night” and headed back toward the cave.

Arland watched him stride away with affection on his face. “I think even when he’s old, he’ll still be young.” Then he turned his attention to me, and the temperature of his gaze dropped twenty degrees. “You, on the other hand—who are you really, Jake?”

His eyes were full of angry questions. A shiver ran through me. I’d told him the truth outside the caves at Braide Wood.
I didn’t have any other answers.