Guardian of the Vale Page 8

  The familiar voice painfully lashed against her eardrums. “Kyle.”

  Kyle smiled sadly at her, his usual bright grin nowhere to be seen. He stood in the street behind them, his arms loose at his sides, his hands open as if prepared for anything.

  Four EA soldiers stood behind him.

  “Run, Alayne!” Daymon snapped. Before another second could pass, he hurled himself at Kyle, and the two of them hit the ground in a tangle of arms and legs.

  Alayne stared at them, shock freezing her limbs. She shook herself free from it and stumbled up the alley, but all four of the guards swarmed her, one yanking her arms behind her back.

  In desperation, she reached for the elements, but realized too late why the element harp didn't hum with its usual quiet energy. Kyle had brought four guards with him—four Elemental guards—one guard for each element. The element strands hung high out of reach, firmly in their grasps, and no matter how she strained, she could not reach them.

  It was a difficult thing to do, keeping the elements out of reach. It took careful coordination and skill. Each Elemental had to hold their element strand with exactly the same amount of tension as the other Elementals, or the elements would slip back into place on the harp. Likely these men had received specialized training. It wouldn't have been much easier for Alayne, even with her Quadriweave skills. It was like pushing the same magnetic fields together: the closer the strands moved to each other, the harder they were to grasp. She'd done it once, at the end of the previous year, but it had been hard to maintain her grip on it.

  If Alayne could distract them enough, she might make one of them lose their hold on the element and bring one strand back into her control.

  The guards who held her were too strong physically, though, and too skilled. The strands wobbled a little when she yanked hard against the soldiers' grips on her arms, but they didn't release.

  A grunt of pain pulled her attention back to Kyle and Daymon. Kyle's nose bled freely, and Daymon's fist smashed his cheek, splitting the skin. Kyle threw a punch at Daymon and missed, but twisted to the side and threw Daymon onto his back.

  With athletic grace, Daymon whipped his legs under him and landed upright again. A powerful kick connected with Kyle's stomach, driving him backward with a gasp. Daymon tried to follow, but three of the guards left Alayne and converged on him. Two of the guards pulled his arms behind his back, and the other crushed him to the ground. Strong as Daymon was, he was no match for three trained soldiers, and in another moment, he lay flat on the ground, his arms bent behind him. He looked up at Alayne. I'm sorry, he mouthed.

  She shook her head. She tried to jerk free once again, but the soldier's grip was too strong.

  Kyle slowly pushed himself off the street and spit blood. Anger resonated from his frame. He approached Daymon and crouched before him. “Nice try, Guardian.”

  “Crawl back under the rock where you were spawned, Pence.” Daymon's voice seethed.

  Kyle stood upright, hatred distorting his face as he stared down at Daymon. “You think I don't see the way you look at her?” he snapped. “That every morsel of attention she throws your way is like a bone for a love-sick puppy? You think I didn't know that all last year at Clayborne you were edging into my territory, bad-mouthing me to Alayne every chance you got to make yourself look good? You want to watch her?” A half-grin split his lips. “Well, watch this.” He turned and strode toward Alayne. When he reached her, he clutched the back of her head and brought his lips down on hers, hard.

  Alayne twisted, fury and loathing filling her. She broke away with a gasp. She could taste the blood that covered her mouth, leftovers of Kyle's struggle with Daymon. Kyle stepped back, a smile crossing his cracked and bleeding lips. “Layne—”

  She spit in his face, the saliva mixing with the red that painted his nose and mouth. “Traitor,” she shouted.

  Anger shuddered across his expression. He took a slow, controlled breath. “Alayne, I'm sorry, I have to do this.” The plea was unmistakable in his voice. “I don't want to, but I have to.”

  Alayne's jaw locked. “I trusted you once, Kyle, but never again. You don't have to do anything. That snake you call a mother has led you down into a deep, black pit. Wake up.” Disgust dripped from her words.

  Kyle stepped closer, lowering his voice to nearly a whisper so the others wouldn't hear him. “Layne, put yourself in my place. Please.”

  Alayne turned away, her dry eyes burning as she stared at the wall. Kyle's fingers forcefully pinched her chin and turned her back to him. His eyes were inches from hers—dark, stormy, and even a little confused. “What else am I supposed to do? What if you hadn't had your parents who loved you from the day you were born? What if when you were growing up, the only time you could see them or rouse any emotion from them at all was when they were angry? What if all your life, you wanted, just once, a smidgen of affection, love, maybe just a little pride from them?” He shook his head and shrugged. “What if they finally offered you that love, but you had to pay a large price to get it? Wouldn't you? Even for your parents, Layne?”

  Alayne’s anger burned in her veins; she wanted to lash out at him, to scream that he had betrayed not only her, but everyone she'd cared about, including himself. He had been her friend, someone she'd trusted, and he had offered her up on a platter to the EA for the sake of distorted parental manipulation that was nothing at all like love.

  She didn't answer, because if she did, he would see how hurt she was, and she refused to ever show him her vulnerable side again.

  “Alayne, please tell me you can understand, even a little, what I'm saying.”

  Alayne ignored the tight grip of her soldier behind her. She pulled herself up as straight as she could, speaking clearly, not bothering to lower her voice for privacy as Kyle had. “I understand only this, Kyle. A parent's love that costs something is not love at all.” She turned her head away. “Whatever you're going to do, hurry up with it. I can't stand to be near you.”

  Kyle's mouth tightened against silent emotion. After a long moment, he spoke again, his voice gravelly and harsh. “I love you, Layne. I always have. I always will. I know you don't believe me, but I do.”

  “Your version of love is twisted, then,” Alayne grated out. “I can't completely blame you; your mom never modeled anything better, but skies, Kyle, it's not a hard concept. Don't betray your friends.”

  Kyle flinched beneath her acidic words. His jaw locked as he stared at her, and after a moment, he wheeled, nodding to the other guards. “Bring them.”

  One hand loosened on her arm and the next second, a needle slammed into her triceps. Alayne gasped as she tried to yank away, but it was too late. Her vision blurred and blackness crept into the edges of her sight, encroaching, as the Elemental soldier pulled the needle from her flesh. Daymon still struggled between the guards, and her vision narrowed around him to a pinpoint of light.

  Weakness swathed her knees, radiating upward, and the light disappeared. Alayne drifted into nothingness.

  Voices pierced the stillness, and with the voices came light. Alayne felt the smooth, firm expanse of carpet beneath her, and the discomfort of no cushion. She wondered how long she had been asleep.

  Kyle's voice cut through her consciousness. “How much longer?”

  “Another fifteen minutes. Should be able to see the spire any minute now.”

  The spire? Alayne's mind flashed to Clayborne. Were they returning to the school?

  She peeped through her lashes, dread stabbing her as she realized that she lay on the smooth floor of a shuttle. A steady stream of morning light shone through the windows. To her right, she could see Daymon's long fingers and smooth, tan skin. His hand was relaxed and loose. She could hear his steady breathing. They must have given us both the shot.

  Five figures relaxed on the seats that lined the wall. Kyle was one of them.

  Alayne took mental inventory of the elements. Still out of reach, of course. There was no way anyone would let the
Quadriweave anywhere near the elements.

  She studied the guards who held the elements. Their grasp on the strands seemed firm, but she could see telltale strain at the corners of their mouths. Keeping the elements so balanced was taking its toll. They'd have to trade shifts with other Elementals soon if they were planning to keep the strands out of reach.

  Kyle turned, his gaze sweeping toward her. She shut her eyes again, not ready for him to realize she was awake.

  She thought of the last few moments of her time at Clayborne—the battle in the upper floors with four of the most powerful Elementals on the Continent. Well, five, if you count Jayme. Although he had been controlled by Tarry.

  “She's the one jumped out of the top floor of the spire with the Madame's Shadow-Casted Commander, isn't she?”

  The soldier's reference to Jayme startled her, as she'd just been thinking about him.

  “Yep,” another soldier answered. “I've never seen the Madame so angry. She killed two of her highest ranking officers who had been in charge of the spire's security that night, and then this girl escaped with twenty-three other kids and went on the lam.”

  “Had to have slowed them down, though, dragging along the Commander once he'd lost the Madame's Cast, though,” the first soldier grunted. “I heard they'd turned tail and run, and that they'd wrapped the Commander in a sheet of air and were pulling him along.”

  The second soldier grunted. “He'd been Casted nearly a year. I guess you'd have to have some kind of special resiliency to bounce back from that. He didn't have it.”

  “No, he didn't,” Kyle muttered. “He didn't slow us down, though. We still made it to the Capital without being discovered before I left the group.”

  Alayne shut out the words. They pained her too much. Her mind returned to the dark-haired boy who had been flat on his back for the last several weeks, the one who had held such a prominent place in her life her first year at Clayborne. First her friend and then her boyfriend, Jayme had crept into her heart and carved a space there, making the past year when she'd thought him dead as a result of her slow reflexes pure torture. He had been everything to her. Except... a dark, forbidden thought surfaced, and a mixture of shock and guilt accompanied it.

  He's not everything to me anymore. I—I had no intention of moving on, and yet—I have. This admission to herself immediately set off her much louder conscience. How could you move on, you ungrateful idiot? You pine over him for a year, and when he finally comes back, you can't even wait until he's well again? Skies, Alayne, give the boy a chance! The voice continued, yanking all Alayne's guilt to the forefront. You were the one who missed the knife—you alone, Alayne, and you couldn't even stop his supposed death. It's all your fault that his life is ruined. You owe him big time.

  Alayne squeezed her eyes tightly shut and then jerked as she felt a hand on her own.

  “Hey,” Daymon whispered. “You okay?”

  Alayne opened her eyes and twisted to look at Daymon. His dark hair had grown in the last weeks of running. His blue eyes were alert and concerned. Something tiny and light circled in her stomach, tickling her insides, as she remembered Kyle's accusation. “You think I don't see the way you look at her?”

  Alayne pushed the feeling away. He was wrong. Of course, Daymon watched her carefully. He was her Guardian. His very life depended on her well-being. Speaking of which.

  She glanced up at Kyle, who watched them gravely from his place on the seat. She turned her gaze back to Daymon. “I'm sorry for getting you into this mess.”

  He shrugged. “We'll get out of it.” He glanced down at her belt. “Your knife is gone.”

  Alayne's startled gaze flew down to the empty sheath Daymon had made for her.

  Kyle chuckled. “Obviously, I'm not going to leave you with any weapons, Layne, either elemental or physical. You're far too deadly with them.”

  “I made that knife, Kyle. It's mine.”

  “And it's exquisite. Really. But my mom would kill me if you show up with it on you. Not to mention you'd try to kill me first. So,” he shrugged, “no knife.”

  Alayne's gaze shifted to his belt where a black handle rested. Kyle followed her look and pulled the knife out. He spun it in his palm before sliding his thumb along the edge. “Sure is pretty, though.” He tossed it up and caught it deftly again. “Good balance. Makes a decent throwing blade. I'll have to try it out.”

  Alayne struggled to sit up, and Kyle immediately slid the knife back into his belt and left his seat. He grabbed her hand, pulling her into an upright position.

  Alayne snatched her hand away. “Get off me.”

  Kyle raised both hands, his fingers spread. “Skies, Layne, I was just helping.”

  “That's your trouble, isn't it, Kyle? You're always 'helping.'” Alayne raised her fingers to make air-quotes. “You think you helped me by sheltering me from your mom, by keeping me out of harm's way all the time, by avoiding trouble. You haven't helped me, Kyle. You tried to make me paranoid. I'm done with it, though. I'm finished avoiding danger, taking the easy road. From now on, I'm going in through the main gate.”

  Kyle stared at her, his blue eyes glinting. “I think you meant to direct that speech to Houser over there. He's your Guardian, the one who's supposed to keep you out of danger.”

  Alayne glanced over at Daymon. He'd pushed himself to a sitting position as well. His eyes had darkened to navy as he watched the two of them.

  “No, that's the difference between you and Daymon. You always tried to make me run away from my fears. Daymon's always encouraged me to face them.”

  “Lieutenant?” The pilot's voice broke the tense air between Alayne and Kyle. Lieutenant?

  “Yes?” Kyle didn't break eye contact with Alayne.

  “We've arrived, sir, and I've received the signal for landing.”

  “Go ahead, please.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The shuttle banked to the side. Looking out the window, Alayne could see the familiar spire where she'd spent most of the last two years. A few moments later, the shuttle settled onto the platform, and the door opened.

  Two guards moved behind Alayne and Daymon and pulled them to their feet, securing their arms behind them with actual rope.

  “No elements, huh?” Daymon muttered.

  “Nope.” Kyle smiled. “Best to be on the safe side where Layne and the Vale are concerned.”

  They marched out into the sunlight and immediately into the chute. Kyle pressed the button for the Chairman's office.

  “Great,” Alayne muttered. Of all the people to deal with right now, why did it have to be Tarry?

  The chute car dropped, and the doors opened into the large office, which was set up exactly as it had been only weeks prior, the secretary's desk taking up the majority of the space in the waiting room. Behind the desk, the doors stood open in the Chairman's office.

  Tarry posed behind the secretary's desk, her red fingernails tapping the wood as the chute car slid into view. She smiled as though she were expecting them—Alayne assumed she had been. The Elemental Alliance leader's eyes gleamed as the doors opened. Her lipstick was a perfect red blade across her face. “Alayne. How lovely to see you.”

  “I wish I could say the same.” Alayne tried to step forward, but the guard held her firmly in place.

  Tarry's gaze swept Alayne from head to toe, somehow making Alayne feel overly large and clumsy. Alayne shoved the feeling aside. “You won't get away with this, Tarry.”

  Tarry's red lips tugged upward. She picked up a coffee cup that sat on her old desk and marched back toward the Chairman's office. “Bring him,” she called over her shoulder.

  Daymon stumbled out of the chute, the guards behind him shoving him into the room.

  Alayne started to follow, but the soldier who remained in the car with her tightened his grip on her wrists. “Not you, miss.” The doors slid shut.

  “No, wait!” She stared wildly at Kyle who leaned against the car's railing, his arms folded over his
chest. “What are you going to do with him?” The car dropped as Alayne struggled against the soldier's grip. “Where are you taking me? What have you done with Daymon?” Her shouts grew louder as the chute doors opened onto the ground level.

  Alayne yanked and pulled even as the guard and Kyle marched her inexorably around the spire to the hedge at the back. The door to the underground tunnels stood ajar, its yawning black opening swallowing all light.

  Chapter 7

  Alayne stumbled down the moist stone steps, prodded by the guard. Kyle walked next to her, gripping a lantern he had grabbed from the entrance. The outside light faded completely as they walked, and the only thing Alayne could see was the bobbing, flickering glow from Kyle's lantern.

  Alayne studied the black tunnel and the many doors that lined the way. Moss grew thickly on the stone; water trickled to the floor and ran in rivulets between cracks. The elements were all around her, but the control hung beyond her reach.

  “If you keep the elements out of reach, the Alliance can't use them either, can they?” Alayne asked, not expecting Kyle to answer.

  He surprised her. “The four guys who do it are specialized. Tarry's trained them for conflict situations, so they're good at keeping the elements exactly balanced.”

  “Why were they with you when you arrested me?”

  Sullen silence answered her before Kyle did. “Tarry sent them with me.”

  Apparently, Tarry didn't fully trust Kyle. Alayne filed away the information to consider later. “There are just four? Tarry doesn't have others who keep the elements out of reach?”

  Kyle cut a sharp look at her. “She's got backups, because what they do is crazy hard, so they have frequent breaks. The backups trade shifts when the primary four are tired.” He paused and then muttered, “Probably wouldn't be hard for you, though, Quadriweave.”

  Alayne ignored his undertone. “So those four have to stay together, right? Distance would weaken their coordination?”