Guardian of the Gate Read online

  Ridiculously, I feel the sting of tears once again, and I try to gather my composure by turning to look at the room that has been mine while at the Sanctuary. I commit to memory the simple stone walls, the warmth of the well-worn floor, the smell both musty and sweet. I do not know if I will ever see it, any of it, again.

  I want to remember it always.

  Finally I turn to Una. She smiles, holding something out to me.

  “For me?”

  She nods. “I wanted you to have something… something to remember all of us and your time on Altus.”

  I take the object from her arms, surprised at its softness, and shake it out. My throat goes dry with emotion as the violet silk unfurls. It is a riding cape made of the very same fabric as the Sisters’ formal robes.

  Una must take my touched silence to mean something else, for she breaks in hurriedly. “I know you did not care for the robes when you first came to us, but I simply…” She looks down at her hands, sighing when she looks up to meet my eyes once again. “I simply want you to remember us, Lia. I have grown used to your friendship.”

  I lean in to embrace her.

  “Thank you, Una. For the cape and your friendship. Somehow, I know we will meet again.” I pull back to look at her with a smile. “I will never be able to thank you enough for taking care of Aunt Abigail in her final days. For taking care of me. I shall miss you terribly.”

  I pick up my bow and knapsack and tie the cape around my neck, wondering if I will ever have the heart to take it off. Then, as it seems I always must, I turn to leave.

  The island is lit only by torches along the path as Dimitri, Edmund, and I make our way from the Sanctuary down to the harbor. I have only the vaguest recollection of landing there when we arrived on Altus. Those first moments on solid ground are nothing but a blur followed by the two lost days when I did nothing but sleep.

  As we make our way toward the water, my trousers pull at my thighs and my shirt scratches against my chest. Already the world of silk robes and bare skin on sheets seems very far away.

  Dimitri wears a cape similar to mine, though his is black and more difficult to see in the fog. When I came upon him and Edmund in the early morning darkness, Dimitri’s gaze lit immediately upon the soft fold of silk about my neck.

  A smile touched his lips. “Still lovely in violet.”

  I know our boat as we arrive at the dock, for a robed Sister sits at either end with an oar in hand. The sleeping island has silenced us, and we climb in without speaking. The Sisters begin to row away from the island as soon as we are settled, Dimitri and I toward the front of the boat and Edmund just behind us.

  Aunt Abigail’s whispered words float through my mind as if on the mist rising over the ocean. I hope our guides will be trustworthy and that Dimitri and I will not be required to find our way alone, but I feel a renewed commitment to do whatever is necessary.

  As I watch the silent Sisters row us farther out to sea, I suddenly remember a question, half-formed and unspoken in the haze of my exhaustion on the way to Altus.

  “Dimitri?”

  “Hmmm?” His eyes are on the water.

  I lean closer to him, keeping my voice low so as to not offend the Sisters rowing the boat. “Why are the Sisters silent?”

  He seems surprised, as if he has only just realized how odd it is that we are being transported across the sea by silent women. “It is part of their vow. They promise silence as protection against giving away the location of the isle.”

  I look back at the Sister rowing from the front. “So they cannot speak?”

  “They can, but they don’t do so outside of Altus. It would be a violation of their vow.”

  I nod, recognizing, perhaps for the first time, just how devoted the Sisters are.

  Watching Altus grow smaller, I feel as if something should be said, something to mark its significance and the significance of my time there. But in the end, I say nothing. In the end, speaking of it will only dilute the memory of the jasmine-scented air and the soft breeze drifting off the water and the night spent in Dimitri’s arms with nothing to worry over save being thought inappropriate by those who occupy a different world entirely.

  I do not take my eyes from the island until it fades into the mist. One moment it is there, a small, dark speck in the distance, and the next it is gone.

  The trip across the water is uneventful. I remain close to Dimitri, my leg touching his, and this time feel no compunction to put my hands in the water.

  As before, I lose all track of time. At first, I try to gauge our direction in the hopes of gaining some idea of where we are going. But the mist feeds the voracious apathy brought on by the rhythmic rocking of the boat, and I give up after a while.

  The adder stone is a comfort against my skin, its pulsing proof that the power of Aunt Abigail’s protection is still with me. That the Souls cannot make use of the medallion even as I wear it in such close proximity to the mark. I let my mind wander as I doze in and out of sleep against Dimitri’s shoulder.

  We do not speak, to each other or to Edmund, something I regret when the bottom of the boat bumps up against a beach I do not see until we are upon it. Dimitri and I step into the water and make our way to the shore, Edmund right behind us as the Sisters remain in the boat. Only now do I realize Edmund does not have a single piece of gear. Most notably absent is the rifle that was ever-present in our journey through the woods leading to Altus.

  “Where are your things, Edmund?” My voice, too loud after the long silence of the boat ride, is a bell ringing through the early morning.

  He bows his head. “I am afraid this is where I must leave you.”

  “But… we only left a few hours ago! I thought we had time to say goodbye.”

  His answer is simple. “We do. There’s no need for goodbye now. I will return to Altus and see to the other girls. When Miss Sorrensen is well, I will escort her and Miss Torelli safely back to London. I will see you there again in no time at all.” He sounds cavalier, but I see the ghost of sorrow in his eyes.

  I don’t know what else to say. The fog is still thick, even now that we are off the water. The topography of the beach is lost; it is all I can do to decipher the swaying grass somewhere in the distance.

  I glance back at Edmund. “What are we to do now?”

  He looks around, as if the answer to my question might be found in the thick gray haze blanketing the beach. “I suppose you should wait. I was told to get you to this beach and then return to Altus. Another guide will find you here.” He looks back at the Sisters in the boat and seems to catch a signal that I do not. “I must go.”

  I nod, and Dimitri steps forward, extending a hand. “Thank you for your services, Edmund. I look forward to seeing you again in London.”

  Edmund shakes his hand. “I trust you will see to Miss Milthorpe’s safety?” It is the closest he comes to acknowledging his concern.

  Dimitri nods. “With my very life.”

  There is no goodbye. Edmund simply nods, making his way down the beach and through the shallow water with hardly a splash. He is back inside the boat in moments.

  The sadness that settles around my shoulders is no longer unfamiliar. It is like an old friend, and seconds later, Edmund and the boat fade into the mist. Yet another person gone as if he never existed at all.

  29

  “Where do you suppose we are?” I ask Dimitri.

  We are sitting on a sand dune, gazing at the gray nothingness. Dimitri studies our surroundings as if he might determine our location by the thickness of the fog that surrounds us in every direction.

  “I think we may be somewhere in France. I believe the boat ride was too long to have carried us back to England, but it is impossible to know for sure.”

  I think about what he said, trying to guess where the missing pages might be hidden in France. It is no use, though. I haven’t a clue, and I turn to matters of more immediate importance.

  “What will we do if the guide doesn’
t show up?”

  I try to keep the whine out of my voice, but I am already tired, cold, and hungry. We have the meager supplies packed for us in Altus, but neither Dimitri nor I is anxious to make use of them if we can avoid it. It is only wise to preserve our resources as long as possible.

  Dimitri speaks from the sand beside me. “I am certain the guide will be here soon.”

  Though the utter faith of his statement and the conviction with which he makes it gives me some confidence, it is not in my nature to offer blind trust. “How do you know?”

  “Because Lady Abigail said the guide would meet us, and while she might not be able to guarantee the results of our journey, she would choose none but the most trusted for such an important task, to say nothing of the safety of her great-niece and the future Lady of Altus.”

  “I have not said I would accept the appointment,” I remind him.

  He nods. “I know.”

  I am pondering the merit of challenging the smugness in his voice when a low huffing comes from somewhere ahead in the mist. Dimitri hears it, too, and he lifts his head in the direction of the sound, placing a finger to his mouth.

  Nodding, I listen, peering through the fog until a figure begins to take shape there. It is monstrous, huge, and many-headed. At least, I think it is before the figure breaks through the haze and comes closer. Then I see that it is just a man on horseback leading two other horses behind him.

  “Good morning.” His voice is strong and confident. “I come in the name of the Lady of Altus, may she rest in joy and harmony.”

  Dimitri rises from the beach, approaching the man cautiously. “And you are?”

  “Gareth of Altus.”

  “I have not heard tell of you on the isle.” Suspicion is evident in Dimitri’s voice, at least to me.

  “I have not lived on Altus for many years,” the man says. “Yet it remains my home. It has that effect on one, does it not? In any case, there are those of us in service to the Sisterhood who are best used with discretion. I’m sure you understand.”

  Dimitri seems to give this some thought before nodding. He gestures me over, and I scramble off the sand, eager to have a better look at our next guide.

  I don’t know why I expect him to be dark, but it is with surprise that I see he is very fair. His hair is not the spun gold of Sonia’s but a shade so light as to be nearly white. In contrast, his pale skin is unnaturally tan, as if he has been taking too much sun. I imagine, then, that he has not been here long, for it would be nearly impossible to get any color in a place like this.

  He tips his head in my direction. “My Lady. I would bow if I were not atop this beast.”

  I laugh, put at ease by his informal manner and obvious good humor. “It’s quite all right. I am not the Lady of Altus yet.”

  He raises his brows. “Really? That shall make for interesting conversation on the journey ahead.” He pulls the two horses forward and I nearly squeal with happiness when I realize it is Sargent and the horse Dimitri rode on the way to Altus.

  I hurry forward to pet Sargent’s smooth neck. He nuzzles my hair, making the chuffing noise I recognize as one he makes when content.

  “How did you get them here? I thought I wouldn’t see Sargent again until I returned to London!”

  Gareth leans down. “A gentleman never tells his secrets, my Lady.” Rising straight in the saddle once again, he grins. “I’m only trying to be clever to detract from my own ignorance. I really have no idea how the horses came to be here. I didn’t even realize they were yours until just now. They were simply waiting right where I was told they would be.”

  Dimitri approaches his house. “Shall we depart then? This fog makes me wary. I’d like to get out into the open.”

  “Quite right,” Gareth says. “Come along then. Mount up and let us begin. We need to make our first stop by nightfall.”

  “And where is our first stop?” I put my foot in the stirrup and lift myself onto Sargent’s back.

  Gareth turns and calls out, “A river.”

  “A river?” I ask. “How very descriptive.”

  We follow Gareth off the beach and up a steep sand dune. My fears are unfounded that Sargent will have trouble with such unfamiliar terrain. He performs as if he were born on this very beach, and before I know it, we are back in a meadow and traveling through a field of tall grass. The way ahead looks to be mostly flat with occasional rolling hills, and I am grateful to see not a wood in sight.

  The fog lessens as we move farther away from the beach and, miraculously, the sky is at last blue overhead. It is impossible to imagine that it has been there the whole time we were enveloped in the mist on and near the water, and my spirits lift immediately as the sun casts its gilded light over the tall grass.

  It is a luxury to have so much open space after the confining forest that led us to Altus. Now we ride abreast of one another, making it easier to converse.

  “So, if you are not the Lady, then who is now that Lady Abigail has passed?” Gareth asks.

  “It is a rather long story.” I am stalling, unsure how much I should say.

  “As it happens, I have time.” He smiles. “And if I may say, Altus would be very lucky to have such a beautiful Lady at her helm.”

  Dimitri breaks in. “I am not sure Miss Milthorpe wishes to speak of such a private matter.” The note of jealousy in his voice causes me to stifle a giggle. Miss Milthorpe?

  I look at Dimitri. “Is it all right to speak of it? Or is it forbidden?”

  Surprise wars with hostility on Dimitri’s face. “It is not forbidden, per se. That you are the heir to the title of Lady is no secret. I simply imagined you might not want to share such private details with a stranger.”

  I force myself not to smile at his boyish petulance. “If it is no secret, then surely it cannot be very private. Besides, it sounds as if we have a long ride ahead. We may as well pass the time in conversation, don’t you agree?”

  “I suppose,” he says, his tone grudging.

  When I turn back to Gareth, he is not even trying to stifle the victorious grin spreading across his bronze face.

  I attempt to keep my explanation as abstract as possible. “This business,” I say, gesturing to the fields around us, “is such that it supersedes my appointment as Lady. I cannot accept such responsibility until it is resolved, so I have been given the privilege of time to finish this journey before I make my decision.”

  “Do you mean to say that you might not accept the appointment?” Gareth’s voice is incredulous.

  “She means — ” Dimitri break in, but I stop him before he can continue.

  I try to make my voice gentle. “Pardon me, Dimitri. But might I speak for myself?” He looks chastised, and I sigh, turning my attention back to Gareth’s question. “I mean that I cannot even consider it until I finish what must be finished.”

  “But that would mean Sister Ursula would rise to the position, would it not?”

  “That is correct.” I wonder how privy to island politics the average Brother and Sister are.

  “Well, I for one shall never return to Altus if Ursula is in charge!” I think he might spit, so obvious is the disdain in his voice.

  “And might I ask why you feel so strongly about Ursula?”

  He glances at Dimitri before answering, and for the first time I see a thread of kinship between them. “Ursula and that power-grubbing daughter of hers — ”

  “Astrid?” I ask.

  He nods, continuing. “Ursula and Astrid don’t care about Altus. Not really. They seek their own authority and power. I don’t trust either of them for a moment, and neither should you.” His expression grows serious as he gazes out over the fields. When he meets my eyes once again, all humor is gone. “I believe you would be doing the island and her people a great service if you were to assume the role of Lady.”

  My cheeks grow warm under the scrutiny of his gaze, and Dimitri sighs beside me with something like annoyance. “You honor me with your words,
Gareth. But you don’t know me at all. How do you know I would be a wise leader?”

  He smiles, tapping his temple. “It is in the eyes, my Lady. They are as clear as the sea that cradles the island.”

  I smile in return, though I can practically hear Dimitri roll his eyes.

  The fields stretch on and on, morphing from grass into shimmering wheat as the day passes. We stop only once at a small brook that babbles over smooth, gray rock. Drinking from the icy water and replenishing our canteens, we ensure that the horses, too, have their fill. I take a moment to close my eyes, stretching back onto the grassy bank and sighing deeply with pleasure as the sun warms my face.

  “It is nice to feel the sun again, is it not?” Dimitri’s voice comes from beside me, and I open my eyes, shielding them from the sun as I smile at him.

  “Nice is too mild a word, I think.”

  Dimitri nods, his face brooding as he stares out over the moving water.

  I sit up, leaning over and kissing him full on the mouth. When we pull apart, he is pleased, if a bit surprised. “What was that for?”

  “It is a reminder that my feelings for you are far too strong to falter in the short time since we have been away from Altus.” I smile, teasing him. “And far too deep to waver in the face of a handsome man, however charming and friendly.”

  For a moment, I wonder if I have wounded his pride, but it soon passes and his face breaks into a wide smile before faltering just a little.

  “Do you think Gareth handsome then?”

  I shake my head in mock exasperation, kissing him once again before rising and dusting off my breeches. “You are very silly, Dimitri Markov.”

  His voice drifts to me on the breeze as I make my way to the horses. “You didn’t answer! Lia?”

  Gareth is already atop his mount, and I double-check Sargent’s bit before lifting myself onto the saddle. “This was a beautiful place to stop. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he says, eyeing Dimitri as he makes his way to his horse. “I imagine you’re tired. It is said you have had quite a journey.”

  I nod. “I’m quite happy now that we are out of the woods. It was harrowing, traveling through so dark and closed a forest to get to Altus.”