Darkest Knight

Natalie sat crouched inside, head lowered over a prone figure covered head to toe with a white sheet.

“Natalie?” I climbed up to sit beside her. “What’s going on?”

Head still down, she snuffled before saying, “It’s Rusty. She’s dead.”

“What?” I couldn’t believe it. An immense sadness welled up inside me, but my fury battered it down. My sister knights were dying and I was helpless to stop it.

Hands shaking, I gently lowered the sheet to find Rusty’s pretty, pale face underneath. “How did it happen?”

“Don’t know,” Natalie said. “I arrived at the front line. Found her by a wall of fire. She was backing it off. Using her will to put it out. Then…” She gulped air before going on. “Then she collapsed.”

“Did anyone try to revive her?” I touched my fingers to Rusty’s throat. No pulse, but her skin was still warm. I thought about the boy. “She must have suffocated from inhaling too much smoke.”

Natalie shook her head. “Smoke has never been a problem for her.”

It obviously was now. I lowered my ear to Rusty’s face and listened. Not even the slightest breath.

“The EMTs did try to revive her.” Natalie wiped her nose on the sleeve of her coat. “But she wouldn’t come around.”

So that’s what had taken so long for them to get here. I glanced outside the ambulance to see both EMTs caring for the boy, who cried and coughed but appeared to be okay. I didn’t want them seeing what I was about to do.

“I’m going to try something.” I reached into my coat pocket and tugged out the ox horn charm. “I don’t know the extent of its power, but I have to give it a shot.”

The ugly black horn, no bigger than the width of my hand, was chipped and blackened with age. I’d never seen one used, but I knew it to be an object of magic the Vikings kept with them as part of their battle armor. It enabled them to breathe through smoke as they pillaged the villages they burned.

I didn’t know much about this charm and was hesitant to place the horn between Rusty’s blue lips. There was always a price to pay for using dark magic. If it gave her breath back, what would it demand in return?

“Chalice?” Natalie gulped a breath between sobs. “What are you doing?”

“What Rusty should have done when she had the chance.” I slipped the horn’s tip into Rusty’s mouth.

I waited a full minute. Nothing happened.

I started to withdraw the horn when a wisp of smoke trailed out the charm’s cone-shaped end.

“I think it’s working,” I whispered.

Rusty’s chest began rising slowly, as if being pumped with air. Now I was afraid she’d burst from a breath too big for her lungs. Instead, color pinked her cheeks and her eyelids squeezed so tight it looked like she was in pain, and I hoped she was. That would mean she was alive.

Rusty coughed and the ox horn flew from her mouth and landed in the snow outside. She sat up, gasping, clutching her chest and heaving in gulps of air.

Natalie lunged at her and wrapped her in a hug so tight I thought she’d squeeze the breath out of her again. They cried in each other’s arms. As much as I wanted to join in, I hung back and tried not to feel left out. I was a knight too, and that knowledge would have to be enough for now.

“You scared me to death,” Natalie told her.

Rusty looked confused for a second, then shot me a glance. “Was I dead?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” I said.

She touched her lips. “Was that thing in my mouth? That cursed horn?”

I pulled back my shoulders and straightened my spine. “Yes. It gave you back your life.”

“If not for Chalice you’d still be dead,” Natalie said. “She saved you.”

Rusty frowned, not appearing one bit thankful. Then her frown deepened. “Something took my breath away.”

Natalie nodded. “The smoke. You suffocated.”

Shaking her head, Rusty said, “No, smoke has no effect on me. It was something else.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“It felt so…strange.” She still clutched her chest, her eyes growing distant as if trying to remember. “Like being inside a vacuum. There was no smoke, no air, no nothing. As if something sucked my breath right out of me.”

Natalie and I exchanged looks. She said, “That’s impossible, Rusty. It’s only happened to knights that are asleep.”

“Maybe whatever it was is now desperate enough to prey on us when we’re awake,” I said. “Rusty, what was the last thing you saw before passing out?”

“Fire.”

“You didn’t see anyone near you?” I asked.

“Of course there were people near me.” Rusty bit off each word. “We were fighting a fire. Four fighters stood beside me, each wearing a protective suit and mask.”

“So you couldn’t see their faces,” Natalie said.

“No, I couldn’t.”

“I bet one of them did it,” I said. “The Hatchet murderer disguised himself to get close to you.”

“Hatchet murderer?” Rusty chuckled. “You make it sound like a villain from a bad horror movie.”

I glared at her. “I wasn’t trying to be funny.”

“Don’t worry, you weren’t,” Rusty said, but the corners of her mouth pulled up in a smile. “Thanks for saving my life even if you did use that…thing.”

I looked down at the snow where the horn had fallen. It lay there looking dull and ordinary, its power spent. I vaguely wondered if it could be recharged and if so, who could recharge it. Cursed or not, it was a handy gadget to have around, especially for a fire master like Rusty. I hopped down from the ambulance and snatched it up to shove into my coat pocket.

I gazed out at the sky, wondering if Aydin still watched. He was more of a guardian angel than Rafe, who spent too much time being stubborn about accepting Aydin for the good man he was. He wouldn’t stop criticizing him for becoming a gargoyle, which wasn’t even his fault. Come to think of it, none of our guardian angels had come to the rescue.

“I’m new at all this knight stuff,” I told my sisters. “Can I ask you both a question?”

They had guarded looks on their faces, their eyes shifting attention from me to each other and back again. “Sure,” Rusty said. “Shoot.”

“Where was your guardian angel when you were suffocating to death?” I asked.

The corner of Rusty’s mouth slid up in a smug grin. “That’s not how it works. It’s not like they’re on autopilot.”

Granted, I still had a lot to learn, but I was confused. “Guardians don’t guard?”

“They’re more like guides,” Natalie said. “Once we’re old enough to be knights, our guardians shift roles from protector to partner. They come to our aid only when summoned.”

Okay, I could buy that, but I had to admit the partner thing made me squeamish. I was about to say so when the two EMTs came back to the ambulance with the boy on a backboard. They stood statute-still and stared at Rusty, their mouths gaping like howler monkeys.

“Oh!” Rusty scrambled to her feet and wobbled, but Natalie caught her before she could fall. “The boy! Is he okay?”

“Chalice saved him, too.” Natalie sounded like a proud sister. It gave me a warm feeling.

Rusty blinked. “Cool,” she said as Natalie helped her down from the ambulance.

The EMTs were sputtering something about Rusty being dead, her heart having stopped, blah-blah-blah. I’d been around the supernatural long enough to know death wasn’t always a permanent condition, but these guys had no clue.

I infused my voice with amazement when I told them, “It was so strange. Rusty suddenly sat straight up. We about jumped right out of our skins, didn’t we, Natalie?”

Natalie trilled a nervous giggle that sounded about as real as a sitcom laugh track. She patted her chest. “Oh, yes. Quite a shock.”

The men shook their heads and went on with their work, securing the boy to a gurney. One of them said, “Miss, you need to come with us to the hospital and get checked out. You could be more injured than you think.”

“I’m fine,” Rusty said, waving them off like flies. “You have a more important patient to worry about.”

I tilted my head toward the boy. “Does anyone know where his parents are?”

The EMT who’d expressed concern about Rusty said, “They’ve been notified. The boy was supposed to be in school, but he snuck out to go home.” He frowned at Timmy, who looked no older than six or seven. “We suspect he started the fire.”

Someone was in big trouble. “I’m just happy he’s okay.”

“So are his parents. Thanks for your help.” The EMT nodded at me before slipping into the seat behind the wheel. His partner stayed in back and closed the ambulance doors.

We watched them drive off, siren blaring.

Rusty gave my shoulder a friendly yet firm slap. “Welcome to Halo Home.”

six

“YOU WERE DEAD?” MY GRANDMOTHER asked, her turquoise eyes intent on Rusty.

Rusty nodded. “Suffocated. And not from inhaling smoke.”

“She had the breath sucked out of her,” Natalie said. “Sound familiar?”

Aurora’s face went pale. “That does it. No one leaves this house until the murderer is found and dealt with. Is that understood?”

“The Hatchet murderer.” Rusty waggled her fingers and made a ghostly wailing sound.

My grandmother closed her eyes as if praying for patience. “There’s nothing funny about this. Over forty knights have been picked off like flies, leaving only a half dozen left. That’s counting the four of us.”

Rusty bent her head and mumbled, “Sorry.”

“I think Rusty is still suffering from shock. Death will do that to a person.” I felt my grandmother looking at me and sensed she didn’t appreciate a smart-ass.

Aurora sighed. “Okay, I get it. A little levity in a crisis can be cathartic, but please, let’s not forget the knights we have lost.”

Damn. Now I felt guilty. I was trying hard not to feel anything at all and being a smart-ass usually worked for that.

Rafe and my grandfather stood by the fireplace in stony silence. They hadn’t involved themselves in our discussion, which was probably just as well. I’m sure they grieved in their own way.

“Am I interrupting?” asked a young but strong voice from the foot of the stairs. A teenage girl stood with her arms crossed, her jeans torn in a way that should be fashionable, but I didn’t think hers were like that on purpose. Her razor-cut white hair that was too pale to be bleached hung over half her face and the dark liner around her eyes made her look ghoulish. She tugged at her woolen cap as if trying to hide her eyes. Wise choice. She had so much eyeliner on that I couldn’t tell what part of her face was real and what was painted.

“Xenia, come in,” my grandmother said, making a scooping gesture with her hand. “I want you to meet my granddaughter.”

Oh, another knight. Great, but I wondered why she hadn’t come with Natalie and Rusty to the kitchen this morning. Had she slept in?

Xenia avoided my eyes, and she didn’t venture any farther into the room. If I thought I was out of place, this one acted like she was in a whole other world.

Aurora smiled. “Xenia is a new recruit for the knighthood,” she explained. “She came to us last week.”

“A normie,” Rusty said under her breath.

“A what?” I asked.

“Normie,” Natalie repeated. “Means her father wasn’t an angel. She just talks to them.”

Exactly like Quin Dee, who was an angel whisperer like his father had been, and his father’s father, and so on down the line. Saint Geraldine had been an angel whisperer, too.

“Where do the Arelim find these…normies?” I asked.

“Angel whisperers have a telepathic link with the Arelim,” my grandmother said. “The ones selected to train as knights have been screened based on their willingness to devote their entire lives to serving our order.

“Now that we have to practically start the order over from scratch, more young women like Xenia will be joining us.” Aurora gave each of us a long look before adding, “And I’ll be depending on you three to train them.”

I was almost as new as Xenia and still had a lot to learn myself, but I’d do my part. “What kind of powers will the new recruits have?”

“None,” Aurora said. “Their only gift is an ability to communicate with all Arelim, not just their guardians. Plus they will only die if the Arelim allow it.”

“Normies are immortal?” I asked, stunned by this news.

“Sucks, doesn’t it?” Rusty said. “I mean for us. Not for them.”

“This only applies to those whisperers who become Hatchet knights. Possible immortality compensates for their lack of supernatural powers,” my grandmother explained. “It’s their only protection from the evil they will vow to fight.”

Of course. Quin had sacrificed himself to the enemy, and the Arelim had given him his life back. It made sense that these new knights would be granted the same gift.

Xenia rolled her eyes. She obviously didn’t appreciate her immortal status, or she didn’t believe it. If I were her, I’m not sure I’d believe it, either. Pretty far-fetched if you asked me.

“Does this mean they’re protected from whatever is killing the knights?” I asked.

“We don’t know,” my grandfather said. These were the first words I’d heard out of him since this morning. “The angel whisperers, or normies as you girls like to call them, don’t have to succumb to natural causes of death. At least not permanently. We’re not so sure about the unnatural kind.”

“And I suppose guinea pigs for testing this theory are in short supply,” Rusty said.

“Let’s just say we’re not taking any chances,” Zeke told her.

Wow, what a day. Too much too fast, and I was starting to fade. I stifled a yawn.

My grandmother cleared her throat. “Chalice, you’ll be sharing a room with Xenia.”

Xenia rolled her eyes again. If she kept doing that they’d get stuck staring at the back of her own head. The girl jerked her chin in the direction of the stairs before heading that way herself.

“Hold on, Xenia. I need to give Chalice something first.” Aurora tugged at a loop of thin chain she wore around her neck and pulled a shiny object out from beneath her sweater. She dragged it up and over her head, then held it out to me. “This belongs to you now.”

I glanced at Rafe, who stood still as a mannequin beside the fireplace. He nodded and tilted his head toward my grandmother.

I stepped closer to see what she offered. About the size of my palm, it looked like a talisman in the shape of a shield. An embossed crest was divided in half, with one side the scarlet cross of the Crusades, and the other a silver angel wing. The sight of it brought a lump to my throat. I’d never seen it before, but I knew exactly what it was.

“My mother’s shield,” I whispered.

Aurora nodded. “I gave this shield to your mother on the day she was old enough for knighthood, just as my mother had given it to me, and her mother to her.” She lowered the chain with the shield over my head. “It symbolizes dozens of generations from our bloodline, all the way back to the first Hatchet knights who fought in the Crusades.”

Which meant my ancestor was a knight who had fought beside Saint Geraldine. A chill skittered down my spine and made my ears ring. My chest felt tight with so much emotion I was afraid I’d crumble, but it wouldn’t do for me to show weakness in front of a recruit who already had doubts.

I inspected the old shield and found deep cracks in the metal and evidence of rust or blood beneath a surface of thick, clear lacquer. “Is this the original?” I asked.

My grandmother tilted her head to one side. “Part of it. The original shield was used in battle, where it was nearly destroyed. After the war ended it was broken down and reshaped into what you hold in your hands.”

“Wow.” It felt heavy and I couldn’t imagine wearing this around my neck 24/7.

“It’s a symbol now, Chalice.” She smoothed the hair from my forehead, then cupped my face in both her hands to stare into my eyes. “This shield of knighthood is yours to keep. It’s who you are and who you’ll always be.”

I inhaled a shaky breath and pressed the shield to my chest. “I’ll take good care of it.”

She lightly patted my cheek. “I know you will. Now scoot. You must be exhausted and you have a big day tomorrow.”

“I do?”

“A half-dozen squires are expected here before noon.”

Squires were knights in training. Oh, my God. So soon? I wasn’t ready.

“You’re ready,” Rafe said, as if he’d heard my thoughts.

I shot him a look and narrowed my eyes. Such a know-it-all. He gave me a crooked grin.

Dazed from my surreal day, I robotically followed Xenia up the stairs to our room. A bed never looked so good. My bag of meager belongings sat on the floor beside it.

I think Xenia was talking to me when I trudged bonelessly to the edge of the bed. She could have been speaking Mandarin Chinese for all I knew. My brain was fried and sleep called to me like a siren’s song. I did a face-plant on the mattress, missing the pillow completely, and fell instantly asleep.

* * *

I awakened slowly and thought my bladder was about to burst.

Opening my eyes to a deep darkness that only a moonless night could provide, it took me a few seconds to place my surroundings. My night vision kicked in and a bedroom came into focus.

I padded my way down the hall, following the scent of shampoo and soap. By the time I returned to my bed I was no longer sleepy. My brain had already started buzzing with all that had happened the day before and what I’d have going on today. It was exciting and daunting at the same time.

I wandered to the window and glanced outside at a bluish haze, which was how my eyes perceived night. It looked as I expected until my gaze landed on the snow around the giant ponderosa in the yard. The tree glowed with life, which I also expected, but the area where I’d buried Shojin’s heart glowed, too. So brightly, in fact, that it could easily be seen by anyone without my superior eyesight.

“Oh no,” I murmured. I’d meant to hide the heart, not make it a beacon. If I brought it inside the house, it would glow no matter where I put it. I’d just have to bury it deeper. Then I could cover it with iron to guarantee no one would find it. Iron blocked all magic as well as extrasensory perception.

Since I hadn’t bothered to undress before falling into bed, I didn’t have to worry about waking my roommate by rummaging through my bag looking for clothes. I glanced over at the twin-size bed on the other side of the room to see Xenia still as death beneath a hill of blankets. I fought the urge to shake her and make sure she was alive. The Hatchet murderer had made me paranoid.

I grabbed my jacket from the floor and scurried down the stairs to the kitchen. It didn’t take long for me to find the iron skillet I was looking for. It took a bit longer to find a shovel, which was stashed with a couple of terra-cotta pots and an empty half-barrel planter under the deck outside.

The snow over the buried heart had softened and would probably have been completely melted in a few hours. I scooped away the slush and dug the shovel into the mud underneath. The hole I had made for the heart was even shallower than I thought. Though the stone was probably harder than most rocks, I handled it gently, taking care not to crack or chip its glowing surface. It had to be perfect for Aydin.

I shrugged off my jacket, which had made me too warm anyway, and wrapped it around the heart before getting back to work. The ground became harder the deeper I dug, the frozen mixture of clay and soil solid as a brick. But I hammered at it, swearing under my breath, until I finally pulled away fist-size chunks. Once I got about two feet down, I kneeled to place the heart back in the hole, covered it with the iron skillet, then mounded clods of frozen dirt on top. A generous frosting of snow completed the job. A perfect deep-dish mud pie. And here I thought I couldn’t cook.

I stood to survey my work. No more glow. Mission accomplished.

Shaking the bits of snow and dirt from my jacket, I slipped it on over my sweaty shirt and zipped it closed. My boots were covered in mud, the knees of my jeans caked with the stuff, and my face was undoubtedly smudged with evidence of my secret. I’d have to shower and change before anyone saw me and started asking questions. Aurora and Rafe were the only ones beside Aydin who knew about the heart.

No sooner did his name pass through my mind than I caught a faint whiff of damp fur and sandalwood. A bare whisper of Aydin’s scent trailed on a chilly breeze, and then it was gone. I’d only imagined it. I couldn’t get him out of my mind.

I vaguely wondered what time it was and let my gaze sweep the horizon in search of dawn’s faint light. Instead I found the ghostly outline of a figure just beyond the perimeter of Halo Home’s warded boundaries. Opening and closing his wings, the hulking form paced slowly back and forth across the road.

I could see that Aydin waited for me. The compulsion to run to him grew like a cresting wave that had nowhere to go but forward. My grandmother had forbidden us to leave the property, but she’d surely make an exception this time. Aydin would protect me. He always had.

I ran through the drifted snow, my boots breaking through a crust of ice that had formed overnight. When I reached the perimeter of wards, I stopped. Aydin would be invisible to someone with normal vision, but I could see the particles of his life force. His ghostly gargoyle form turned to face me. I breached the wards and walked his way.

He wasn’t solid in this state, and I knew he couldn’t materialize without the risk of being detected. If I could just get close enough to sense his essence, I could imagine him as he once was and get lost in the fantasy of us being together again. We’d never had a chance to get as close as we had wanted, but it didn’t have to stay that way. We could have a future now, but only if he did the one thing that would make him human.

Aydin came to me. His gait was brisk and I realized then that he had no plan of stopping. That’s what had happened inside Geraldine’s tomb when Aydin’s ghostly body had merged with mine, his thoughts blending with my own before putting me to sleep. He’d had to do it to prevent me from accidentally spilling the secrets Geraldine had told us to our Vyantara master. I doubted sleep was Aydin’s intention this time and so I welcomed the merge. I needed to feel him close and having him inside my mind was more than okay with me.

I closed my eyes, sensing his presence flow into me like water through a stream. My pulse quickened, my skin flushed with heat, and an electric buzz skimmed down my spine. Aydin and I were now one.

I’ve missed you, I told him in mind.

I missed you too, he said, and my heart melted because I could hear his voice, his human voice, inside my head.

You’re not mad at me anymore? I asked.

I was never mad at you, Chalice. He paused. I was hurt. You know how much Shojin meant to me.

Of course I know. His sacrifice was… I couldn’t find the words.

He was a selfless creature. I tried to tell you that.

He certainly had and I’d never believed him until it was too late. But even then, I doubt anything could have stopped Shojin from giving up his heart.

I inhaled Aydin’s familiar scent and it comforted me. Eyes still closed, it was like being in a lucid dream. I stood, semiconscious, on the snowy road. Scents of fresh pine and new-fallen snow filled my nostrils. Then I imagined him big as life right in front of me.

My head felt suddenly too light and I dreamed of Aydin reaching out with human hands to catch me before I could fall.

You look…human.

It’s your imagination. You’re seeing me as you remember. His almond-shaped eyes captivated me, and they crinkled in the corners when he smiled. I knew that smile. I’m inside your head right now. At least this way I can talk to you without snarls and grunts.