Guardian of Honor

“Joan of Arc,” Alexa croaked.

Sinafin’s entire being flashed humor. “Yes. But you can do it. You are stronger than you think. Stronger than they think. They cannot coerce you in any way—remember that.”

“You’re not one of them?”

She gave a tiny fairy snort. “Do I look like one of them? No. I sensed you were here and came. I am here for you.” She launched herself into the air, dipping and whirling, wind chimes rippling with her movements. Alexa got the idea she was too impatient to sit still. Sinafin hovered before Alexa’s nose, just far enough away that Alexa didn’t have to look at her cross-eyed.

“Deep in your heart you need Lladrana. It can be a home for you. You can find your place here.”

“Argh,” was all that came out of Alexa’s mouth.

A teeny fairy finger wagged at her. “So don’t get scared, or depressed. Take it as a challenge.”

“That’s what they always call awful problems nowadays, ‘challenges,’” Alexa muttered.

The fairy beamed. “I’m here to help you.”

Alexa wasn’t sure how a little pink fairy in her dreams could be of use.

Sinafin flittered around the bed, grabbed the fringe on the hangings and swung from it. “Don’t think of going back. Accept your fate here and you’ll live a long life of great fulfillment.”

“You sound like a fortune cookie.”

A laugh rippled from Sinafin. “I am good fortune. Now, I know you aren’t good with languages. So listen!” A delicate wand with a star on top appeared in her hand. She waved it, and the whole evening rolled like a movie before Alexa’s eyes. Only this time, she could understand what the people were saying. At least the words, but some of the meanings and concepts were beyond her. When it ended, she had a million questions. She opened her mouth to ask Sinafin, but with fairy capriciousness, the little magical woman had disappeared. A feeling of dark destiny crept over Alexa.

Now she shivered from toes to head as she remembered the dream and the night before. She clutched a pillow almost as big as her. Her arms sank into it and she knew it was made of the finest down. Everything around her was the finest.

“Hard to go back,” she muttered to herself, and knew that there wasn’t much of a life to go back to. She’d have to start all over on Earth as well as here in…Lladrana? “Find my place here.” Tears welled in her eyes and she was helpless to stop them. All she’d ever wanted was to fit in, be normal, know she was the same as everyone else who had a family and friends and a good home.

In Sophie she’d found a good friend, as close as a sister. Sophie had been outgoing and charming, had expanded Alexa’s circle of friends. She and Sophie had graduated law school, passed the bar, and started their own firm specializing in domestic law. They’d had three clients.

Then Sophie died and the plans were shot to hell. Before Alexa had had time to regain her balance, she’d heard chimes and music and had gone through the silver arch to Lladrana.

She had chosen to go through the gate of her own free will. She knew that. But she sure hadn’t known the consequences. Alexa was certain that in Colorado “ensorcellment” wasn’t a valid defense for stupid decisions. What about here in Lladrana?

She uncurled from a fetal position and looked around her. Everything in the room—her own room—was of the highest quality. She had passed “tests” and been granted the status of Marshall. Alexa shuddered at the thought of the tests. She’d thought a month of studying for the Colorado bar had been bad!

That was then. This was now. And now was an entirely different world.

Tests. She’d focus on that. The little star-ball—atomball—had been a test. Partis had said so before he sent it to her. Many had been surprised she could handle it. The test was a measure of what they called “Power.”

The next test was obvious. Did she have the compassion to save the baby? Then, she’d asked for help in keeping the baby alive. Had that been a test too? Alexa thought so. She wasn’t too proud to ask for help. She could work with others to achieve a goal. She made a disgusted noise. Oh, their tests had been clever, all right.

The memory of how she’d flung her assailant against a wall with her sheer will burned in her heart. She couldn’t sit in bed and face that fact so got up to pace the room. What could she have done differently? She wasn’t trained in martial arts. She hadn’t hurt him on purpose, had only defended herself. Self-defense was acceptable in Colorado and apparently in Lladrana too, since she hadn’t been punished. But that she’d hurt, maybe killed, shook her to the core.

A sour taste coated her tongue, so she went to the bathroom and rinsed out her mouth. On the way back, she stopped at the windows and finally looked out. She was about five stories up!

Glancing down, she saw her Tower was built on the edge of a cliff. She flinched back, then looked out onto an expansive landscape. Before her were fields showing a fuzz of spring green, then wooded, rising hills.

She followed the window to the far left curve—in the distance was a large, tidy walled town. She looked down and saw a hedge maze just within the castle walls, and just beyond it a small garden centered around a tall, lovely white-barked tree. A sweet murmuring, almost beneath her hearing, beckoned to her. She pressed close to the window. The low music must come from the growing things, maybe even the land. Rocks? Who knew?

From what she’d already experienced, anything was possible.

She frowned, trying to separate the attractive lilt from other notes, and finally figured out that it came from the tree. She smiled. The tree had caught her eye, so it was logical that she’d hear its tune more clearly.

Alexa moved to the center of the window to once again study the vista of multihued greens. Her heartbeat picked up. This is home, a bone-deep feeling whispered. This is what you’ve been searching for all your life.

She shook her head and backed away, bumped into a piece of furniture she hadn’t noticed before—a mirror on a stand. At her reflection her mouth dropped open and she stared. Her hair had turned silver in the night. Her eyes appeared very green—as deep and green as her jade baton.

Alexa ran to the bed, leaped on it and burrowed into the covers. She’d decided. She wasn’t getting out of the bed, or out of this room. She’d wait for the Snap.

Alexa slept most of the morning, until the strings attached to her door rippled and Marwey called out. Alexa buried her head in the pillows and ignored her. After a while the girl went away.

Alexa dozed again until Thealia came and made demanding noises. The woman was impatient, not even denting Alexa’s willpower to hold out before stalking off—Alexa could feel her irritated energy and hear hard footsteps.

Just as Alexa was beginning to relax, Partis chanted at her door, comforting, soothing. Lulling, Alexa thought with a snort. She wasn’t moving.

Partis sang for about half an hour, then left.

The doorharp sounded again and Marwey spoke. She knocked. Alexa heard noises out in the hallway and wondered if they’d starve her out. Then the baby cried just beyond the door.

It went on and on. Alexa couldn’t bear it. She got up and stood by the door, calling softly to the child, murmuring endearments. That only worked once.

She opened the door and scooped up the baby, who broke into a smile. Alexa smiled back, and a couple of women nabbed her.

Marwey, eyes wide, advanced and touched the ends of Alexa’s shoulder-length hair. “Argent,” she whispered in awe.

Alexa grimaced. She’d forgotten the color had changed from brown to silver.

“Alyeka, Alyeka, Alyeka.” The women called her name. With a swirl of jewel-toned robes, Marwey and Thealia and the rest, laughing and coaxing—and cuddling the baby—took Alexa down long, curving stairs.

It wasn’t a dungeon, but a big bathing room tiled in white and turquoise with slim graceful pillars. There were three pools of light blue, and lush greenery. The whole room was like something out of a harem. To one side hung a rich robe of dull gold. It looked Alexa’s size.

She allowed herself to be led to a pool. Narrowing her eyes she examined the liquid. It appeared to be water. Thinking it would be easier to test the stuff than to try to ask what it was, she bent down and cupped some in her hands. It felt like water. No stinging. Alexa let it trickle through her fingers.

Lifting her hands to her nose she inhaled the scent the liquid had left. Herbs. Nice and somehow sweet, not astringent. As she scooped up the “water” again and lowered her mouth to taste, she watched the others. They looked amused but didn’t protest or stop her. She darted the tip of her tongue out to lap at the water—again, it tasted of herbs.

Alexa stood and straightened her shoulders. She gestured for others to bathe before her. Thealia lifted her eyebrows, but moving a little jerkily, she disrobed and sank into a steaming pool. She leaned her head back on what appeared to be a padded cushion that rimmed the pool, shut her eyes and hummed. Alexa eyed the older Marshall and decided to follow her example.

Walking to the hot pool, Alexa summoned the courage to drop her bathrobe, and, ignoring embarrassment, trod the shallow steps into the pool. The hot water caressed her arches and Alexa knew why Thealia had moaned. It felt so good! The water lapped silkily at her as she submerged; the heat banished the aches and stings the liquid the night before had burned. Thealia sat on a ledge at the deep end of the pool. Alexa judged that if she joined the woman the water would rise to Alexa’s mouth. She found a spot and a ledge where it reached her shoulders—ignoring the twittering of the other women, probably about her height—and flopped her head back on the pad. Oh yeah! The only thing better would be jets.

“Alyeka,” Marwey said.

Alexa opened one eye. The teen offered a tray of soaps. One was green and Alexa had seen it in Marwey’s mind the night before, one was oatmeal colored and textured, one peach. Alexa sniffed them all and took the green one that reminded her of the ocean. A pang went through her. Oceans. She wondered if she’d ever see one again.

“Shh,” Marwey said, joining her in the bath and patting her shoulder.

Battling the ache of tears, Alexa looked at the girl. Marwey stared into her eyes and frowned. Then, slowly, an image took shape in Alexa’s mind—a rocky coast with a gray-green ocean frothing spume. She closed her eyes and turned her head away.