25

Jake

The strength of my words startled me. Hard to believe this pledge had come from my mouth. I didn’t even know how to get to Rendor. Yet fire burned in my bones, directing the words. I felt their power. I saw their impact.

Men lounging on the ground rose to their feet. Others shifted uneasily and looked away. Sneers transformed into cautious attention. Their faces showed the transition in their thoughts: Is it possible? If the One has sent a Restorer, maybe we can dare to hope again.

They waited for Arland to answer me. Scores of eyes darted between us, measuring, weighing.

A grumbling voice piped up from behind me. “High time someone did something for Rendor.”

I whirled to stare at Ian. Talk about an unlikely ally.

He shrugged gloomily. “After all, what difference will it make whether we die by the king’s new guns or by Kahlarean syncbeams and venblades?”

At that cheerful assessment, the men began to mutter and argue again.

Arland shot an annoyed glare at Ian, then stepped forward. “Prepare to move out.” He didn’t enter the debate, didn’t indicate which destination he would choose. Every guardian in the clearing leapt into action.

I watched the organized chaos with admiration.

Arland grabbed my arm and pulled me off to one side of the clearing. Although he’d been stoic as he spoke to the men, his eyes blazed into me now. “This is your plan? Stir up mutiny? Cause the men to debate the best of hopeless options?”

“No! Arland, I’m just telling you what the One has called me to do.”

He jerked my arm. “What if you’re hearing wrong? You’ll ride to Rendor and die. Your death would be a waste.” His eyes burned, not with anger but with his passion to protect every life: the People, the guardians, even the Restorer.

I faced him with absolute conviction. “I belong to the One. My life is His to waste.”

He made a harsh sound in his throat and let go of me, then paced a few steps away. When he turned back, frustration drew his hand by instinct over the grip of his sword.

My fingers tightened around my own sword, but I was careful not to lift it even an inch. “Please, Arland. The men will follow you anywhere. Can’t we at least try? You have enough guardians now to make a difference. If we follow Him, the One will protect us.”

He walked back to me, his words low and intense. “How? What is His plan?”

A reasonable question. I was begging Arland to lead his men into danger based on my word as a Restorer. Trouble was, I didn’t have the answers. “I don’t know. He’ll show us in His time. All I know is that we need to follow Him.”

Arland rubbed his shoulder and moved it stiffly—the same shoulder I had once bandaged for him. Wade had hovered near, pretending not to listen. Now he shuffled forward and ducked his chin, approaching Arland like a puppy expecting to be swatted in the nose. “What would it hurt? It would have been part of the plan eventually. We haven’t had word out of Rendor in weeks. We could at least scout the area—find out what’s happened to the families that were left.”

Arland gave Wade a level look. My house protector stepped back a pace and added quickly, “Of course, it’s up to you. You’re the head guardian.”

“Yes”—Arland jabbed his chin in my direction—“and he’s the Restorer.” Was that bitterness in Arland’s voice?

He still didn’t know what to do with me. I still didn’t know how to convince him. “Please,” I said simply. “I’d rather fight by your side than alone.”

He absorbed that and raked a hand through his hair. “Wade, I want you sticking to him like brambles to lehkan fur. Understood?”

Wade snapped to attention and nodded eagerly.

“And you.” Arland pressed his lips together and shook his head, already showing regret for his decision. “I want you to keep me informed of anything the One tells you. No taking off without explanation. No throwing yourself into situations you don’t understand.”

My head bounced, and I grinned until my face hurt. He believed me. We were finally heading onto the road that the One had nudged me toward since I arrived. And I wouldn’t have to face the Kahlareans alone.

Arland gave a short whistle. Ian and several other clan captains made their way to him. In a low voice, he issued new orders. I had expected him to shout to the whole clearing, “We ride to Rendor,” but Wade quietly reminded me that the guardians’ only defense was secrecy. Each group would be told the minimum, and only when necessary.

I had also expected we’d mount lehkan and charge across the plateau toward the River Borders, like the cavalry in a Wild West movie. Instead, the guardian band split into units. Most would hike to a transport stop beyond the lehkan plateau. We couldn’t use the nearest station because we’d run smack into Cameron’s guard on its way from Lyric. After a long hike, we’d board the automated cars in shifts, twenty-five men to a car. A second, smaller group would take the remaining lehkan pastured near Braide Wood, planning to arrive a day later to patrol outside the city and provide a secondary defense if we were forced to retreat. The piecemeal procedure quelled some of my naïve visions of riding at the head of a vast army.

Arland gave terse orders but still took time to speak with each captain about his supplies, the status of any injuries, and the morale of his men. A young messenger drew close and listened to Arland’s orders to one captain. He stepped forward. “I want to volunteer. I’ll take word into Hazor and let Tristan know our plans.”

Arland clapped a hand against the boy’s back and smiled. “It’s a rough journey these days. Zarek isn’t making it easy to get a message into Sidian. But if Tristan does find a way to join us, it will be vital that he hears the plans. Go with the One.”

The boy nodded and turned to leave.

A sudden warning shrieked in my head—inaudible, but as insistent as the burglar alarm Dad had installed in our home. “Wait!”

Wade looked at me, eyes wide. Arland fired a frown in my direction.

The impression of danger flared into a physical pain in my skull, and I winced. My mom had told me about seeing and knowing strange things when she was the Restorer. I thought she meant the enhanced hearing and vision, but this was different. I struggled to explain it to the impatient head guardian. “Something’s not right.”

Arland rolled his eyes. “Wade, why don’t you take the boy and get him geared up.”

“Wait.” I rubbed my temples. I didn’t want to irritate Arland now, when he was just beginning to support me, but something needed to be confronted. “Cameron knew you were at Blue Knoll, and it wasn’t from me. He found out you were camped here. I heard him talk about sending his army. Someone has been bringing him information.”

The messenger was sidling away.

I looked at him and knew. Beyond my ability to know, I was sure of how Cameron kept finding the guardians. “Wade, stop him.”

Wade wrinkled his forehead but clamped a hand around the boy’s arm. Arland looked at the messenger and then back at me. He shook his head. “No, it’s not possible. I’ve known Evon all his life.”

Evon gave Arland a wide-eyed stare. “What’s this about? I need to be on my way to cross the mountains before night.”

I stepped in front of him. “Look me in the eyes and tell me the truth.”

Childhood words—words my mom used to say, with the claim she could always tell if I lied. When I was five and my new red tricycle disappeared from our garage, I ran three houses down the alley and confronted Troy Abernathy in his back yard. “Did you take my trike?”

He shook his head and calmly pushed his Tonka truck deeper into his sandbox.

I pulled myself to full kindergarten height and used the magic words with all the righteous indignation in my soul. “Look me in the eyes and tell me the truth.”

Troy’s lip quivered. He jumped out of his sandbox, frightened by the fierceness of my gaze and the mystical power of those words. “Okay, I borrowed it. I hid it in my garage.”

I was a Restorer now. In a mysterious way, my demand for the truth had compelling strength—at least I believed it did. The messenger believed it too. His chest began pumping like a bellows, and his eyes locked into mine. Deep in the pupils, I saw shifting images. Deceit wove strands that I recognized as Medea’s dark skills. It was the last thing I wanted to see. I felt like I was choking.

“Jake?” Wade’s concerned voice reminded me to breathe, but I didn’t look away from the boy.

“What was the song you sang at Denniel’s funeral?” I whispered the words to Wade. The messenger stood frozen, expressionless, eyes still bound to mine.

Wade cleared his throat and chanted the first lines, self-conscious: “‘In the grey of our despair, the One will bring a light.’”

“That’s the one. It’s from the Verses?”

Wade nodded, a blur on the edge of my vision. I stared into the dark web of Rhusican poison in the boy’s eyes. “Sing the words with us.”

His mouth drooped open, lifeless. I could just as well be ordering one of my sister’s stuffed animals to sing.

Wade began again, and Arland’s strong voice supported the melody.

“‘In the grey of our despair, the One will bring a light.’”

I joined my voice with theirs, the Verses seared into my memory from the funeral. “‘When our battle ends, and we face our longest night.’” Holy One, free this boy.

Evon’s mouth began to move, barely mouthing the words. “‘Sweet life or bitter death, He yet remains our Tower.’”

I sang gently. It was like breathing on tinder, coaxing a flame from a rumor of a spark.

Dangerous threads writhed and knotted in his eyes. I didn’t let myself marvel at the odd images. All my focus was needed to pull him out of their control. “‘Facing our last journey, held by His love and power.’” Coherence glimmered in his face.

“The creed. Say the creed with us.” My parents had once used those words as a test and tool to find councilmembers who were influenced by Rhusican poison. I struggled to remember how it started.

Behind me, Arland sighed at my floundering. “‘Awesome in majesty,’” the guardian said quietly, then paused.

“‘Is the One eternal.’” The messenger gritted the words out, tendons throbbing on the sides of his neck. Wade felt the tension and stepped behind him, still gripping the boy’s arm, more to support him than confine him.

“‘Perfect in His might and power’”—Arland stood like a wall at my back, guiding the boy through the words—“‘the only truth and only source.’”

The boy’s eyes rolled back, and his whole body stiffened. He had been whispering the creed, but now a howl burst from his throat. He went limp and Wade eased him to the ground. Behind us, I heard the activity freeze and questions fly. Arland ordered the men back to their preparations and turned to help me again.

I was afraid Evon had died, but his chest was still moving. In fact, his whole body trembled. I crouched beside him and rested a hand on his head. “It’s all right. She can’t control you anymore. Say the words.” I spared a quick glance at Arland.

He lowered to one knee beside me. “‘He made all that is and loves all He made; His works are beyond our under-standing.’”

The boy’s eyes flew open, filled with panic, confusion, and a growing awareness. He groaned, beginning to understand.

I remembered my own feelings of shame and horror as the fog of Medea’s poison had faded. I had felt so slimy I wanted to find a cave and pull the entrance in after me. “It’s all right,” I said again.

Arland took the boy’s hand. “Say the creed with us.”

The messenger stared at his captain and saw no repulsion, only concern. By force of habit, he followed Arland’s orders. He spoke the words from the Verses with us, and the shaking in his limbs eased. His breathing calmed. When we finished, he sat up and moaned again, rubbing the side of his head as if trying to erase the lies that had held him. “It was me. Arland, each time you sent me out, I went straight to Lyric instead.” His face bunched up with the remorse that tore at him.

Suddenly, he grabbed a dagger from his boot sheath. Wade, Arland, and I tensed.

The boy turned the weapon and offered it hilt first to Arland. “I’ve betrayed the guardians.”

Justice in this world was unforgiving. I knew firsthand how little mercy these men would show someone they thought was a traitor. I opened my mouth to plead with Arland.

“Jake!” Wade said sharply. He gave a small shake of his head. It wasn’t my place to tell Arland what to do, especially when we had just formed an uneasy alliance.

Arland turned the dagger in his hands, lost in thought. He sighed and handed the knife back to the messenger. “I don’t want your death. At least not here where it won’t do our cause any good.”

Evon curled in on himself, the answer making him feel even more defeated. Arland stood up, and Wade helped the boy to his feet.

I rose and then wobbled from sudden light-headedness. The encounter had drained me.

Arland looked behind us at the men, who were assembling and waiting for his orders. He turned back to the boy. “If you want to pay for your betrayal with your life, then spend it fighting Kahlareans.”

The boy’s head lifted and took in the words. He straightened. Despair gave way to determined purpose.

“Go on, join your group.” Arland waved him away.

The boy thanked him in a choked voice and hurried off. Gratitude chased away my fatigue. “Thank you. You did the right thing. I’m sure—”

Arland snapped his head toward me. “Jake. Enough.”

I sagged and stepped back. I had kind of hoped he would thank me for finding out something so vital. Why wasn’t he happy that we had freed the messenger from enemy mind control?

The guardian checked his sword belt, adjusted his sheath, and set aside his temper with effort. “I thought we’d agreed you’d check with me before doing crazy Restorer things.” But the side of his mouth twitched.

Before I could answer, a man raced into the clearing, panting for air. He spotted Arland and jogged over. “The scouts say the first transport has arrived from Lyric. Twenty of the king’s guards. With the weapons they used at Blue Knoll.”

Arland gave a terse nod. “And there will be more to come.” He dismissed the man and turned to me. “We have no way of knowing who else in our band is controlled by Cameron. And now we have no time to find out.”

No wonder he hadn’t been thrilled with our one little victory. I looked at the large group of men. Any of them could be traitors. We were about to set out to battle a powerful enemy nation, and Arland didn’t know who he could trust.

The head guardian gave his orders, and the men moved out. Arland looked at me one more time, then turned to Wade. “This isn’t a game of Perish. Keep an eye on him.” Then he charged out of the clearing to join the first group of men, leaving Wade and me to fall in behind.

I’d felt exhilaration when Arland made the decision to come with me to Rendor. I’d been awed at the powerful experience of watching poison’s hold break away from the messenger. Now reality crashed in.

We were on the run again—running from Cameron’s army and heading straight into a battle with the Kahlareans, who had killed my Restorer grandfather and had tried to kill every Restorer since then. My brave words came back to haunt me, and I whispered them again to give me courage. “I serve the One. My life is His to waste.”