The Guardian (Callista Ryan Series) (12 page)

             
Callie frowned, understanding his ploy now. “Alright, alright. God, I was just kidding.”

             
Alex took another bite of cereal, quiet again. His expression was calm now. Callie felt awkward standing there, and so she slowly walked around the counter and sat next to him in a stool. She felt guilty about teasing him; it wasn’t his fault she was in a bad mood.

             
“So….” Callie said, trying to break the tension. Alex looked up at her briefly, as though expecting her to say something. But she got caught somewhere in his chocolate eyes, and lost her words. When she was silent, he looked back down at his paper. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to recall her ability to think. “That waterfall,” she began, relieved to have thought of a topic for conversation. “The one I saw yesterday in your…mind, I guess. Can I see it?”

             
Alex asked, turning another page, “You would like to practice Perception?”

             
“No,” Callie said. “I mean for real. Come on, there’s nothing else to do around here. Will you show me?”

             
Alex put down his spoon, but didn’t meet her eyes. Callie waited for him to say something, but he remained silent.

             
“Okay,” she said. “I guess that’s a no.”

             
Shay walked into the room then, and wrinkled her nose. “What is that smell?” she asked. Callie blanched. Shay looked at her, and sighed. “Would you like to shower?” she asked.

             
“You have a shower?” Callie asked in surprise.

             
Shay rolled her eyes and disappeared into the back room for another moment, before emerging once more with something white draped over her arm.

             
“Here,” she said. “It may be small on you; your proportions are longer than mine.”

             
Callie took the offered piece of cloth, and saw that it was a dress which matched the one Shay was wearing exactly. She noted the way Shay’s dress fit on its owner; it hung long and loose, cutting off a few inches below the knees. She assumed that such a dress would fall a little shorter upon her own figure, as Shay was half a foot shorter than she was. But the gesture itself was the sweetest that anyone here had made.

             
“Thank you,” Callie said sincerely, unsure why such a small act caused her to feel so grateful.

             
Shay nodded tersely, and said, “The bathroom is through there.” She pointed to the back room. “First door on the left.”

             
Callie didn’t waste a second. She was beginning to smell herself again. She walked through the back door, and saw that the room beyond contained a small bed spread with checkered blue bed sheets, a circular bedside table with an analog clock, and a massive bookshelf covered in tattered volumes and potted plants.

             
She saw on the left a door, and found, to her great relief, a tiny, square bathroom, fully equipped with shower. She closed the door behind her and rid herself of the offensive pajamas, stepping into the shower cautiously. She smiled at the thought that she was showering in a tree.

             
An unobtrusive glass bottle sat in the corner of the shower, and she picked it up before turning on the water. There was an amber-colored liquid inside, which smelled of chamomile. She realized that this was likely soap.

             
To Callie’s great surprise, the moment that she turned the faucet, warm water gushed from the faucet head. She had no idea where they’d installed a water heater, but she barely cared. It felt wonderful, and as the hot water ran across her back, she felt the stress built up over the past two days begin to melt away.

             
She knew that she had stayed in the shower for far too long as soon as she stepped out. But she couldn’t have helped herself. The steam had uncoiled her nerves and unclogged her pores and relaxed her mind. She would have stayed in there for another half hour, if she weren’t so worried about being naked in a tree house.

             
She pulled on the dress that Shay had leant her. It fit as she thought it would, stretching down to just above her knees. She didn’t like the back of it, she felt too bare in the wide, deep V that stretched down to just below her rib cage. But it smelled like tree sap and felt like soft cotton, and so she kept it on.

             
When she emerged from the bathroom and walked back into the living room, she saw that Shay was gathering a box of plants from the cupboard.

             
“Are you going somewhere?” Callie asked. The two people in the room looked at her. Shay’s face was determined, focused on the task that she was performing as she barely spared a glance for Callie. Alex’s eyes, on the other hand, widened for a split second, his eyebrows shooting up on his forehead, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. After the moment had passed, however, he regained his emotionless façade and turned away, back to Shay.

             
“One of the villagers came back from assignment,” Shay said. “He was holding a bomb when it exploded. I am on my way there now to see what I can do to help.”

             
“He was
holding a bomb
?” Callie asked in shock. “How is he still…oh, right,” she said, remembering that they were immortal, and that bombs couldn’t kill them.

             
“I won’t be gone long. Zeke is still asleep right now; his journey wore him out,” Shay said, exchanging a meaningful look with Alex. Alex smirked in reply, and Shay left with her box in hand.

             
“What was that about?” Callie asked, sitting next to him at the kitchen counter.             

             
“Zeke is an old friend of ours,” Alex explained. “Though some people don’t have such good opinions of him.”

             
Callie let that be, though she suspected there was more to the story. “That reminds me of something,” Callie said. “Shay said you’re a protector. The spy kind of Guardian, I mean.”

             
“What?” Alex asked with a laugh.

             
Callie was momentarily stunned by the way his face lit up when he laughed. He was transformed, all the darkness and suspicion vanished from his features. “I—uh,” she stuttered, unable to think. She shook her head. “Shay told me there are two kinds of Guardians. I just figured, I mean from what she said, that the second kind is sort of a James Bond kind of role. You know, missions, and all.”

             
Alex smiled, looking down at the counter. “
Goldfinger
,” he murmured.

             
Callie started at the name. “Wha—yeah,” she said, amazed. “That was my favorite movie growing up. How did you—”

             
“It’s nothing like James Bond,” Alex said, the words a little haunted.

             
Callie suspected that he was remembering the bad missions, that he didn’t like being reminded of them. “Oh,” she whispered. “Do you want to talk about it?”

             
He raised an eyebrow at her.

             
“About a mission, I mean. Come on, I want to know.”

             
He stood up as though the conversation were finished and circled the counter, walking to the sink. “Can’t,” he replied.

             
“Oh, right,” Callie said sarcastically. “Emeric’s rules. Look, Alex, what am I going to do? It’s not like I can tell anyone, anyways. Well, except Shay, but what would she care?”

             
He shook his head as he finished washing his cereal bowl, and then walked into the living room. Callie frowned in determination. “Please?” she asked, getting up then to follow him. She sat next to him on the couch.

             
“No,” he said, scooting away from her. She followed him again.

             
“I promise I won’t tell anyone. Not even Shay. And I probably won’t have any idea what you’re talking about. Global politics has never been a forte of mine,” she persisted. When he was still silent, she said, “
Please
?”

             
He sighed, exasperated, and looked at her the way one would regard an annoying child.

             
“Ugh, fine!” she cried, standing up. She stalked away. “But it’s not like there’s anything else to do. I mean, what, I’ll stand around and look at the trees some more? Work on this weird brain-trick? Try to understand Shay’s medical jargon? And all I really want to do is go home, but you people—“

             
“Thessalonica,” Alex said quietly.             

             
Callie spun around, surprised. “What?” she asked.

             
He turned his head towards her slowly, and said, “If it will make you be quiet.”

             
Callie understood that he was giving in. She smiled hugely and bounced back to the couch, perching herself next to him once more and zipping her lips with her fingers. Alex rolled his eyes.

             
“Back then,” he started, “it was the Kingdom of Macedonia. The city was founded by King Cassander, who named it for his wife, Thessalonike. Generations later, the new king, Philip, began to war with the Roman Republic. At the time, the Republic wasn’t much, but it was a rising force. When Philip died, he left his son Perseus the kingdom and the war. I was to make sure that Perseus lost.”

             
“Why?” Callie asked.

             
“The city of Thessalonica would eventually become a major trading post, connecting Europe and Asia. Emeric predicted this, and realized that in order for this to happen, Thessalonica would need to become a power of the Roman Republic, and thus Perseus had to fail. Therefore, I was sent to cripple the Macedonian armies. Now, at the time, Perseus relied heavily on one of his generals, a man I knew as Milo.”

             
“Wait. Milo—like, the chief of the village?” Callie asked. “The one who was in charge before Emeric?”

             
“No. He had the same name, but it wasn’t the same man,” Alex said, turning his face away. Callie sensed the same sadness he’d felt last night when Milo had come into the conversation.

             
“Go on,” she urged, hoping to make him forget about that sadness.

             
He took a breath, and continued. “To diminish Perseus’ army, I had to render Milo useless. I posed as a deserter of the Roman army by wearing a cape over my shoulders. Back then, hunchbacks were more common, and no one questioned me. On the night that the Roman army was plotting an attack under the leadership of a Roman general named Paulus, I disguised myself and approached Perseus, alerting him to Paulus’ plans. Perseus sent Milo with an army of twelve thousand soldiers to wipe out Paulus’ army. However, even though Milo’s army outnumbered that of Paulus, I was near Paulus’ army and aided the Republic to a victory.”

“How? You couldn’t fight. Not without someone seeing.”

“That ‘brain-trick’ can come in handy, if you learn how to use it,” he said. “I was able to distract Milo’s army so that they were left vulnerable. Milo was driven back into Katerini, defeated. The defeat of his greatest general caused Perseus, the Macedonian king, to act as a general in the upcoming combat. This was a crucial component, as I had planned that Perseus would die in order for Macedonia to fall. I was hoping that the Roman army would kill Perseus in the next battle.”

             
He looked sidelong at Callie, and said drolly, “That is not what happened. Midafternoon on the next day saw the Romans approach the Macedonian army to begin the final battle. At first, it appeared as though the Macedonians would win; they pushed the Roman army back into Pydna, a nearby village. There was death everywhere I looked. Men were falling by the hundreds, and then the thousands. The terrain was stained brown as the blood which soaked the ground. I was sure that so much destruction would ultimately be the downfall of the Roman army, and was beginning to feel nervous. I had not planned on intervening in this battle; there was no way that I
could
without the cover of night to aid in hiding my wings. But then, once on rockier terrain in Pydna, the Romans were able to break through enemy lines and win in hand-to-hand combat. I sat on the sidelines, watching the battle from above. As the carefully constructed lines of the Macedonian army began to split, I kept expecting a Roman to attack Perseus, who sat upon his horse while commanding the right wing cavalry. There was so much chaos, so many swords being wielded in nonsensical directions. The sound of battle is one that never leaves a person’s ears. The cries of the dying intermingled with the vengeful shouts of the liveliest warriors. Before any Roman had the chance to kill the Macedonian king, however, Perseus fled, not even allowing his cavalry to see action. He abandoned his troops, leading the cavalry out of battle. Ever the warriors, despite their king’s betrayal, the Macedonian troops continued to fight until every last soldier lie dying or dead upon the rocky ground of Pydna.