The Guardian (Callista Ryan Series) (53 page)

             
Callie closed her eyes, pushing herself into the Siren’s mind. The woman’s memory was almost black as she instantly recalled the blow she’d just been dealt, focusing on the way the Guardian had favored her right hand. Before Callie could exit the memory and step into the woman’s other recollections, she was pulled into a more distant memory of the day, one in which the Siren had broken a man’s right hand after he’d shown signs of favoring it. Callie shivered, and leapt out of that particular image as quickly as possible.

             
She found the dark hallway and raced down it, searching to her right and left for a brighter memory. This woman must never have been a very happy person, however, because Callie was having a difficult time locating one.

             
Finally, however, she saw a picture that glowed warmly. It wasn’t of the forest, but it would have to do. Callie stepped into it, and saw that it contained, of all things, a cat. The woman was sitting in a living room somewhere, yet wingless, looking to be only about six or seven years old. She was nursing a small cat from a bottle, cooing to it as it drank.

             
Callie concentrated on the sand beneath her feet to disengage from the memory. The woman had stopped fighting, was staring blankly into space, as the Guardian stepped behind her and proceeded to win that particular battle.

             
Her stomach in knots, Callie felt a familiar discomfort at the thought of killing. Even though the soldier had been a Siren, she’d had a family once. She had shown compassion at one point in her life. Watching her ultimate dismemberment now was sickening, and Callie regretted playing a part in it, even as she knew it was necessary.

             
She shook off the nagging feeling of guilt, remembering Zeke’s training. Such emotions had no place on the battlefield. So she narrowed her eyes and focused her attention on the next Siren, inserting herself into the woman’s mind with practiced ease.

             
For a long while, Callie kept up this act. As before, she effortlessly navigated her way through Sirens’ minds, weaving through their memories and manipulating their thoughts, allowing the Guardians to gain an edge.

             
She was in the midst of exiting an unusually difficult mind, however, when the owner glanced over in suspicion. This Siren hadn’t a single bright memory; it was as though she had spent the entirety of her abnormally long life being miserable. Callie had picked out the best she could—a nondescript day spent on a sunny tree branch—but knew that such a memory couldn’t distract the woman for long.

             
Indeed, it hardly distracted her at all. Instantly, she turned and caught Callie’s eye, understanding what had happened to her. In fury, she quickly killed the Guardian with whom she had been fighting, and marched over to Callie.

             
She swallowed. This was an unusually large Siren, towering at least six inches above her. She had picked this Siren to Perceive upon because of the dozen grown men she had crippled in the past five minutes. And now that Callie had been given a taste of the woman’s mind, she could understand the source of the expertise: the woman lacked all mercy.

             
The Siren approached Callie and, without pause, ripped backwards on her hair, tugging at sensitive parts of Callie’s scalp in such a way that brought tears to her eyes. Her heart began to pound in her stomach, and she was lapping shallow breaths. Remembering something her father had taught her long ago, she curled an arm across her chest, and then whipped it backwards so that her elbow collided with the woman’s nose.

             
The Siren staggered backwards, cupping her nose in both hands, and watching as the blood flowed into her palms. But then Callie forgot the most important thing her father had told her: the part about running away as soon as she’d leveled her assailant.

             
As it was, her attacker looked up, more anger in her eyes than before, her face twisting into a mask of sheer fury.

             
Silver feathers overwhelmed Callie as the Siren flew at her, knocking her into the ground and pinning her down by the throat. Callie clawed at the backs of the restraining hands, feeling her windpipe close even as she did so. For some strange reason, as she was beginning to see stars pop into her vision, the blood vessels bursting in her eyes, she remembered a scene from a James Bond movie. She couldn’t remember if it was
Goldfinger
, nor was she really concerned with the title of the film. What was important was that she remembered Sean Connery digging his thumbs into the eyes of his foe, thus buying himself some time.

             
And so, warring with her instincts, she removed her hands from those which were suffocating her, and reached up, wincing as she watched her thumbs penetrate the eye sockets of the Siren. The feel of sticky fluid upon her skin would have made her gag, save for the restraining hands on her larynx. But the motion worked; the Siren had no choice except to distance herself from her prey so as to save herself.

             
As she did so, however, the Siren grabbed a handful of sand and thrust it into Callie’s face. Callie hissed as the grains fell into her eyes, blinding her. She could no longer tell where the woman was, just that she was no longer choking. She rolled over onto her belly, struggling to crawl away, to hide at least until she had recovered her sight. But that was not about to happen.

             
A pair of large, strong hands, the same which had previously been wrapped about Callie’s throat, lifted her by the hips. Callie folded limply as she was hoisted into the air, and then cried out as the woman flung her body into a nearby tree. She felt the bark tear at the skin on her forehead, leaving a wide gash which seeped blood into her eyes.

             
Callie crumpled at the base of the tree, unable to move. Agony radiated from every pore. She was still for a few long moments, blinking and rubbing her eyes, attempting to regain her vision. When the blurry outlines began to emerge, however, Callie wished for blindness. Because if she was about to die at the hands of the Siren flying directly at her, at least she would have wanted to be unaware of the fact.

             
The woman had launched herself through the air and was almost on top of Callie when Serena appeared. She stood suddenly between Callie and her attempting-murderer, catching the impact as the woman rammed into her. They rolled on the ground, each reaching for the other’s wings, until Serena finally claimed victory atop the Siren.

             
But Callie hardly saw any of this. Instead, as soon as the Siren had been removed from her field of vision, Callie was able to look beyond the silver wings, into the air beyond. It was there that she saw Emeric, suspended above the mass disorder, looking down at her. When he saw her there, broken and bleeding in a pile underneath a tree, and at the hands of one of his soldiers, he appeared to be stunned.

             
Callie saw the astonishment in his grey eyes, accompanied by a subtle yearning which she couldn’t quite place. She blinked as the last grains of sand left her with perfect vision once again, in time to see the vulnerability disappear from Emeric’s face. Suddenly, he was shouting in rapid Italian, though he did not seem to be addressing any one person. His face turned from side to side as he barked what sounded like orders.

             
One by one, the Sirens below him froze, shocked at his sudden viciousness. The war cries continued, though Callie heard the dip in timber as they began to issue solely from the Guardians. With uncanny precision and synchrony, each Siren opened her mouth in silent song. As one began, another followed, until every silver-winged creature on the beach was frozen, listening to the music that only they could hear.

             
The call. Callie realized that this must be what the Sirens used to communicate with each other, the special song that no one else could pick up on.

             
The beach stilled then in abrupt, odd peace. Even the Guardians who should have taken advantage of the situation were frozen in awe at the sight. Slowly the Sirens unfolded their wings, their jaws still lowered as they sang invisible notes. In perfectly timed choreography, every Siren lifted into the air on a sudden breath, suspended for a moment in a single, graceful layer of silver. And then, circling at once, they turned and flew away, their wings disappearing into the faint line of the horizon which separated sea and sky.              

             
Emeric was still watching Callie. She blinked up at him in quiet amazement, unhinged by the intensity of his gaze. The moment stretched on as the silence remained present, the only sound that could be heard was the lapping of the waves upon the shore. Callie thought that she saw something in Emeric’s face as he watched her with a strange sort of tenderness: a truce.

             
And then, before she could draw another breath, he wrenched his eyes away from her and turned, flying into the distant divide.

Chapter Twenty Nine

Home

              “IT must hav
e
been because they knew they had lost their advantage,” Serena said.

             
They were sitting in Shay’s living room. The sun had set hours ago, but Callie doubted that anyone in the forest was going to sleep tonight. As it was, Zeke, Serena, Shay, Alex, and she had been up all this time replaying the war.

             
After the Sirens had left, stock had been taken of who was still alive. The real tragedy came when, after collecting the living, they had needed to name the dead. Sobs broke forth which belonged to family members mourning their common losses, as people who had lived in harmony for centuries were forced to come to grips with a terrible new reality. The grief was overwhelming; and as Callie looked out upon those tear-stained faces on the shore, she knew that this grief would be with them for decades to come. These were a magical people, and she was coming to understand that they loved with a depth particular to the ages. Half-hearted affection was a foreign concept to the citizens of this canopy, a fact which only served to underscore heartbreak which they felt now.

             
In an ancient ceremony, the corpses of the fallen were collected by those in whom they lived on. Their bodies were brought out to the sea at sunset, and laid to rest in the watery grave. To Callie’s surprise, Guardians hadn’t been the only people remembered. The bodies of the Sirens had been carried out as well, and deposited with equal kindness. These people remembered their fallen friends not for what they had turned into by trick of fate, but for the sisters they had been when they had lived atop the canopy.

             
One at a time, the white-winged mourners had faded into the background, disappearing into the forest after saying their final goodbyes. And yet, even amidst the tears, the ceremony had been somewhat hopeful. Victory hung like a bittersweet flag, weighing heavily on their hearts but optimistically in their minds. As the sun set on that historic day, it was as though a horrible chapter had come to a close, and a new one was about to begin.

             
“I don’t know if they
had
though,” Alex argued. Callie returned her attention to the present.

             
She was sitting with Alex, his back against the coffee table, as she sat between his legs and leaned against him. His hands were locked over her stomach, securing her to him. Zeke and Serena were across from them on the couch, while Shay sat in a neighboring chair. Zeke’s arm was around Serena, but she didn’t seem to mind.             

             
Shay looked on dully, as though having expected this outcome the entire time. She stood up when her teapot whistled, and vanished into the kitchen.

             
“They were equal to us in number, and their soldiers had to be just as well trained, if not better so, than our own,” Alex continued. “It is anyone’s guess who could have won had the battle progressed.”

             
Shay shuffled back into the room with two mugs of tea in her hands. She handed one to Callie before turning to walk towards her chair. Callie watched her as she went; there was the barest trace of a scar around her shoulder, the rest of the evidence of her attack having disappeared completely.