Guardian: Book Two, Feather Book Series Page 16

  I couldn’t help but smile, “Yeah Scott, Margriete is the cat I brought down with me the last time I came and saw you.”

  Scott lifted one finger and pointed at her, his eyes narrowing. “Oh yeah,” he seethed, putting the pieces together.

  Sam refused to step forward as he crossed his arms against his chest, disgusted with being in the presence of a real human. “So this is it huh?” he spoke, directing his remark toward Margriete.

  “This is it,” she replied plainly.

  “Hm…” He grunted with a hint of criticism to his breath.

  “Well don’t you know this place Sam?” I was a bit confused, if it was the City of Angels, he should have been here.

  Margriete stepped forward where she stuck her nose in the air, crossing her arms and looking just as cold as Sam. “Ha, he wishes,” she was arrogantly proud of the fact she had knowledge over something Sam didn’t. “He has to earn his way in,” she sneered in Sam’s direction, “And he simply isn’t good enough yet, so this is his first time seeing it.” She childishly stuck her tongue out at him, causing Sam to leap toward her with a hateful glare.

  “Well, what does he have to do to earn coming here?” I asked, speaking for the whole group, eyeing her in suspense as she backed away from Sam’s advance.

  She leaned against the tower, “This is Guardian Angel retirement, so to speak. Where the angels come after their mission to protect one soul is fulfilled.” Margriete’s eyebrows shot into the air as she chuckled and looked at me, “Looks like you’re going to be a Guardian Angel for a long time Sam, Elle will be here for eternity if all goes right.”

  Sam growled at her, “Shut up Margriete.”

  She let out one explosive laugh, “Oh take it easy Sam, it’s not that great here, remember? You were just criticizing it a moment ago.”

  If Sam could turn red with anger, he probably would, but instead he turned and walked toward the river and away from us.

  Margriete’s face instantly lost all of its humor as she pushed herself off the wall, “He sure is sensitive for someone that pretends to be so tough.”

  I burst into laughter as Scott stood beside me completely lost. “So wait,” he elbowed me gently, trying to follow our conversation through the thick mists of his dream. “That guy, the guy from classes last year…” his face was pursed up as he tried to put the pieces together, “He’s a Guardian Angel?”

  I patted him on the back, not realizing my own strength as I nearly knocked his glasses right off his head. “You got it Scott! I’m so proud of you,” I teased. Margriete rolled her eyes and began down the hill toward Sam and I urged Scott forward, “Come on Scott, let’s make the most of that dream of yours.” he stumbled before regrouping, straightening his glasses and shirt and acting as though he was a renewed man.

  INTO THE CITY

  “Oh look!” cried Scott, “a canoe!”

  Margriete chortled as we all circled the vessel, “Yeah Scott, I think you’ve established that already.”

  He pressed his brows together and rewound his memory. “Oh yeah,” he replied in a sheepish manner.

  Sam looked at him with disgust. “Vile creature,” he hissed under his breath.

  “You didn’t seem to find Jill vile,” Margriete grinned at him.

  “Go hug a tree Margriete,” he spat back.

  I shook my head at them, feeling their attitude toward each other was turning rather sour and childish. “Would you guys please concentrate?”

  They both looked at me with angry glares as we all hoisted the canoe over our heads and marched it the rest of the way to the water. At the edge, I peered into the river’s depths, marveling at how clean it was, and also how blue.

  I looked down at my feet, my toes inches from the water when something I hadn’t noticed caught my attention and I turned and looked behind me. There in the grass were my very distinct and deep foot prints. I knelt down and ran my hand around the indent, admiring the way they had remained compared to the way they had disappeared on Earth.

  Up there, I was something magical, but here, I was finally able to make my mark, a world where I could belong. Aside form the footprints in the mud and grass there was also a lack of blooming flowers trailing behind us. Like everything in this world, it was already enchanted with eternal beauty and life and no longer needed to bloom from our presence.

  I sighed, loosing myself in the feeling of harmony.

  “Come on Elle!” Margriete yelled, “Push!”

  I snapped back to reality as I placed two firm hands on the edge of the canoe that was resting beside me, shoving the large vessel into the river. As the current pulled at the hull, Sam held steady to the back and we all climbed in. Scott was thoroughly lost in his own dumbfounded amazement and was smiling to himself as Margriete manned the oars.

  “Doubt we’ll need those,” Sam yelled over the roaring current.

  Margriete gave him the evil eye and looked away, now ignoring him with silence.

  All at once Sam let go and jumped in as the canoe surged forward. Scott grabbed the sides of the boat, his knuckles white as he held on hard. We were tossed between boulders as we rapidly picked up our pace. Entering the trees, the river dropped over a small collection of rocks, jarring us with a heavy thud and pushing the canoe to the right. Scott began to wildly laugh over the roaring current like a mad man, lost in the mists of his dream and unfazed by the fact that this could possibly kill him.

  As we roared down the river, we struggled to keep the canoe facing forward. Margriete was quick to right us with the oars, smirking at Sam every time he looked back at her, proving that the oars had their purpose after all.

  I could tell they were both excited by the game and the thrill of the moment. I, on the other hand, couldn’t help but feel terror stream through my blood like hot lava. The last thing I needed was to die on my way to save Edgar.

  Sam gave in and assisted Margriete as we narrowly dodged a large boulder that split the river. He shoved us away as we got close, grabbing the sides of the vessel and then spreading his wings so to allow a soft comfortable landing as the rapids continued to bump us forward. Soon the river slowed, twisting to the right as the deafening sound of angry water trickled away behind us.

  Scott was yelling in triumph as he rocked back and forth in his seat, still lost in the dream. The fact that he had been in harms way hadn’t fazed him, as it shouldn’t. Dreams were the only place you could die, only to wake in the real world. It was an interesting concept to think of what would happen to me if I had died, would I wake up from all this? Would I realize that I really am human after all, depressed and alone, abandoned and scared?

  The river began to slow to a lazy roll and I could see our adventures were now over.

  “Well that wasn’t so bad,” I pushed my now dampened hair from my face as Margriete kept her keen sight forward.

  “Yes, but we should probably think of getting out soon,” she pointed forward and I followed her stare.

  Just as I had thought our ride had come to an end, I saw that the gentle flow of the river was just the precursor to what was ahead. I watched in horror as the water ended in a sudden line, giving way to the angry waterfall beyond.

  “Sam quickly, grab Scott,” Margriete threw the oars overboard as they floated away from us. “And Elle, grab onto me,” she climbed past Scott and sat in front of me.

  Sam groaned.

  “Just do it!” she yelled, her words trailing off as she changed into the cat and climbed in my lap.

  “But you’ll be too heavy!” I protested, knowing that as a raven, I struggled enough as it was to keep myself afloat, let alone a cat as well.

  Margriete hissed at me as she dug her nails into my legs.

  Sam tried to restrain Scott as he continued to flail in celebration and I quickly struggled to grasp at my changeling as I heard the telltale roar of water drawing near. It was hard to concentrate with Margriete clawing at my skin and I changed just in time to grab onto her tail with one talo
n, the canoe falling out from under us and down the mountain.

  Margriete hissed and growled as I watched the canoe splinter against the rocky hillside, the water washing it away in tiny pieces the size of toothpicks. Sam and I circled downward, my grip on Margriete’s tail nearly failing as we reached the ground. Exhausted, I dropped her five feet above the grass at the rivers edge. Misty spray matted her fur as she crawled away from the water, her instinctual hatred of it still remaining.

  In a flash she quickly changed back as Sam wrestled Scott to the ground, his hand firmly placed over Scott’s writhing mouth. Sam looked at me as Scott’s face turned as red as a beet in his attempt to scream, “What is your fascination with this breed? Really,” he hissed, throwing Scott to the ground.

  Scott instantly began to roar with a throaty laughter, like a mad man sent to solitary confinement. “Amazing! Absolutely wild!” he yelled, quickly standing and skipping to the rivers edge where he inspected the damage. Being as sheltered as he was, this was certainly new to him. I’m sure there was never a time when he thought he’d fly from a waterfall in the abusive hands of a Guardian Angel.

  Sam snorted in disgust as he walked to the water’s edge and attempted to wash himself of the human scent. I twisted back to my human form, hastily checking my belt hoop to ensure the dagger was still there. I had left it behind when I’d gone into the painting so I hadn’t worried about loosing it, but in the commotion of the river, loosing it would have ruined all my plans and I would have been left trying to negotiate with nothing.

  “Did you have to grab my tail Elle?” Margriete’s voice was full of sass as she shook off the rest of the mist. “I mean, really,” she rubbed her hand against the base of her back, where her tailbone was.

  I shrugged and smiled, “Sorry.”

  She exhaled as her breath dragged between her lips, causing them to flap with annoyance.

  We all took a moment to regroup as I calmed Scott, helping him to realize where he was and hoping he’d find his sanity. After a few minutes, I had managed to get him to stop laughing and look at me, where he proceeded to forget that I had been here the whole time.

  “Remember Scott, we came down from there,” I pointed to the top of the waterfall, “From the river, where you first saw me at the tower.”

  He pointed his finger at me like he always did, narrowing his eyes in recognition, “By gosh Elle, you’re right!” The look on his face was priceless, as though he couldn’t believe he had been so lucky and adventurous.

  Rolling my eyes I stood and joined Sam and Margriete as they went over what to do next.

  “I hope he wakes up soon,” Sam whispered under his breath.

  I attempted to elbow him, but instead I ended up with a bruise.

  “Sam, forget Scott, he’s here for now, so get over it,” Margriete cautioned one hand at him and Sam shut up.

  “Nice job,” I yelped, giving her a high five for successfully beating Sam at his own game.

  “So,” Margriete calmed her laughter as Sam sulked, “back to business. I think it’s safe to say that if we follow the river, it won’t be long until we come across the city.”

  I nodded while Sam refused to give her any acknowledgement. “On our way down, it didn’t seem too far off,” I added, looking in the general direction.

  Smiling to myself, I recalled the works of Jewels Vern, remarking at how truthful the Journey to the Center of the Earth had been. I wondered if he knew, much like Scott would, that this place was real, and I wondered if he had indeed been here in the way his book would suggest.

  Margriete gathered her things, the paint now washed from all of us, leaving a somewhat presentable party. As we made our way along the riverbed, I watched the colorful fish weave beneath the surface, no longer in need of my life, or my attention. For all I knew, this was heaven, or at least what any man would consider it. Everything seemed perfect and healthy, eternally bound to a life of happiness.

  It wasn’t long before the trees began to thin and we came upon a small cottage with a gated farm. The roof was thatched, much like you might have seen from old colonial days, or perhaps the country. The fencing was rather tattered, and in spots, completely torn down. A herd of goats were scattered across the landscape, half within the farm gates, half out.

  “Is there some sort of currency here?” I asked, to no one in particular.

  Margriete nodded her head, “Hmm…” she looked at the worn down house and weighed her thoughts. “Yes I believe there is.” She pulled her book from her back and flipped through a few pages, swiftly finding the spot she was looking for. She smiled, “Yes, it seems the angels earn their retirement…” she paused and eyed Sam with an accusing glare. “You are such a money grubber!” she exclaimed, dropping the book to her side and gawking at him.

  Sam smirked and looked away from her.

  She brought the book back to her face, “It says that Guardian Angels earn various amounts based on whom they choose to protect in their life of duty. Protecting someone like you,” she pointed toward me, her head still buried in the page, “Fetches the largest bounty, something equivalent to royalty.” She snorted, now seeing Sam as greedy, not chivalrous.

  I let out a surprised grunt, my mouth gaping as I looked at Sam wide eyed. “You little sneak!” I yelped, somewhat amused. Sam’s personality certainly suggested he’d be so vain, but I had hoped otherwise. “But why would he get paid so much to protect us when the gods actually want us dead? Doesn’t that seem a little strange to you?”

  Margriete’s brow furled, “You have a point there, but I don’t think I know why.” Her mouth curled into a smile, “Maybe there really is more to us than just being a mistake.” Her eyes glazed as she turned her thoughts inward, now thinking of a rational explanation.

  Sam stuck his nose in the air, “Before you chastise me, you should know I didn’t want the job.”

  “Yeah right,” Margriete choked.

  Sam looked at her with a frightening glare, his eyes now blazing a deep gold, “I did it for Edgar, ok?”

  My smile sank, seeing the tension in his expression.

  “Edgar has done a lot for me in some very hard times. The money is just a bonus.” He looked away, his face stung by the hurtful assumption.

  Margriete looked at her toes, somewhat ashamed. “I’m sorry Sam. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  Sam said nothing as he crossed his arms.

  “What did Edgar do for you?” I pressed, now selfishly intrigued by the conversation.

  Sam turned and looked at me with narrow eyes, the mauve of his dead face darker than I had ever seen. “He helped me get over Jill,” he replied plainly.

  I gave him a polite nod, letting him know that I wasn’t the enemy here, “He helped you forget her?”

  He nodded, “He said that no man should have to endure that kind of torture for all eternity.”

  My heart sank at the words, and for the first time, I wondered if Edgar really had gotten over me, if he had moved on in my absence. I never considered the fact, that perhaps, he had tried to find love elsewhere. I had been gone for three hundred years and I knew nothing about that time, or what he had done.

  Margriete grabbed my arm, seeing my distress, “But not Edgar honey, he always loved you.”

  I looked at Sam but he looked away, as though he were hiding something. What if Edgar had been with another woman, what if he had even loved her? Perhaps he didn’t love her as much as he’d loved me, but at least enough to make life bearable. Whatever it was that Sam hid; I knew he’d never say.

  A sudden feeling of absurdity washed over me and something inside me felt silly for being here, for taking the initiative to find him when he obviously didn’t when I had disappeared. Tears welled in my eyes and I tried to press them back as Scott began to whistle behind me, his feet tracing the edge of the water, dangerously close to falling in. I placed my hand on the dagger that was snug in my belt, a reminder of the sacrifices I’d made for him, for someone I still felt I d
idn’t know, and suddenly wasn’t sure I could trust.

  I had fallen so quickly into the aspects of love and happiness, never questioning his motives, or mine. Was it easier for him to find love and connection when there was no soul to hunger for? Or did it not satisfy that hole inside him, the hole only I could fill, if he let me.

  We were well around the small farm now and another house appeared through the trees. This one had a sturdier tile roof with board and batten siding and a fresh coat of white paint. A plume of white smoke rose from the chimney and a cage of birds was built onto the outside half of the house.

  Margriete again opened her book, a look of recognition crossing her face, “I think we’re here, I recognize this place, as though it were déjà vu.” She ran her hand across the page and smiled, “Elle, you’re going to love this, I promise.” She winked at me as she slammed the book shut and shoved it into the leather ties on her back.

  As we came closer, I was now able to see the birds as they hopped between the branches of the cage, cooing gruffly. “They’re ravens,” I gasped. “Why would someone keep ravens?”

  Sam rolled his eyes as though he knew.

  “You’ll see,” Margriete nudged me, her smile now vindictively annoying.

  OLD FRIENDS

  “Oh hi! Come in, come in dear child!” A man opened the door, his face beaming to the point that it seemed to swallow itself.

  We had knocked several times, waiting for what felt like hours as the banging of pots and clanking of dishes crashed behind the door.

  Scott smiled with a dumfounded expression on his face and I could tell he was beginning to fade from this world and back to his own where he would have to face a test he now had ill studied for.

  “Ah, dear friend,” Margriete leaned in and gave the man a hug, as though she had known him like an uncle.

  “It’s been ages dear!” He patted her back with his old hands, “I never thought I’d see you again.” The man’s smile was so large that his cheeks had pressed his eyes shut, causing him to stumble about like a blind man.