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Page 15


  Abbey was lifting a small bouquet of yellow roses to her nose as she climbed into bed. They had appeared on her nightstand the second day of their arrival to the castle. “I wonder where Mr. Hunky was today.”

  “Who?”

  “Temple. You know, Mr. Hunky? Duh.”

  Lourdie laughed, “Oh my god, don’t call him that!”

  “OMG! How can you not call him that? The guy has some serious hotness going on.”

  “The guy has some serious attitude going on,” Lourdie said. She noticed her voice becoming increasingly snarky every time she spoke of Temple.

  “Ha! I’ve seen you giving as good as you’ve been getting all week. You two have some serious Chem-class going on.”

  “We do not! He just... pushes my buttons, that’s all.”

  “He can push my buttons any day.”

  “Abigail Thorne!” Lourdie laughed, half in shock and half embarrassed.

  “What?” Abbey giggled. The young girl sighed dramatically as she put her arm to her forehead, “I know, sigh... I know, he’s too old for me, but a girl can dream.” She rolled onto her side, “Good night, Sensei.”

  “Good night, Padawan. Sweet dreams.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  Lourdie tossed a pillow at Abbey’s head as a young girl’s bubbly giggle came from beneath it. Heading back to her own room, the exhausted hunter turned off all the lights and climbed into bed. She inhaled the subtle aroma of the pink roses that had been placed on her own nightstand. Good dreams, only good dreams. No more nightmares, she willed herself to sleep.

  The next morning, Lourdie came out of the adjoining bathroom dressed head to toe in motorcycle leathers.

  “See, I told you they would fit. You look smashing,” Luke handed her the matching gloves.

  “Thanks for the loan and the invitation. Are you sure it’s ok?” Lourdie asked, tugging at the red and black jacket. She was itching to get out and ride, but didn’t want to impose.

  “More than okay. They’ve just been collecting dust waiting for someone to put them to good use. Maybe someday Louie will grow into them. Well, we hope,” Luke teased.

  “I heard that,” Louie said without looking up from his and Abbey’s online game. The two were hitting computer keys frantically side by side, consumed by their online world of quests, gear, and loot.

  “Honestly, brother, we won’t get many more warm sunny Sundays. Come out with us.”

  “I’ll bring Abbey out in the Bowler shortly. We are just so close to downing this last boss. I promise, we will only be thirty minutes behind you,” Louie said still not looking up from the monitor.

  Abbey did look up at her mentor, “Is that okay, Lourdie?”

  Lourdie shrugged, “It’s your day off, too. Come out when you’re finished.”

  “Thanks, Sensei.”

  “Shall we go then?” Luke held the door open for Lourdie.

  “You kids have fun,” Lourdie said to the computer zombies.

  Luke mockingly scoffed, “Don’t encourage them. Then they’ll never come out into the light of day.”

  “Heard that too, brother,” Louie retorted.

  “Don’t forget your helmets,” Luke said to his younger sibling.

  “I already found a pink one for Abbey.”

  “And don’t forget to wear your harnesses. I know you’re a brilliant driver, just be…”

  “I’ll be careful,” Louie interrupted. “Later, brother,” he looked up and smiled adoringly at his older brother.

  Luke smiled back, “Later, brother.”

  Lourdie followed behind Luke on the trails while she got used to the feel of the dirt bike. Deep gorges, ravines, and wide open straights had been cut into the landscape near the Cloak’s water treatment facility. The paths were well worn. Apparently four wheeling, off-roading, and flipping dirt bikes was a regular thing around the Cloak. Mounds and hills were spread throughout the trail for the more daring riders to do flips on.

  Farther ahead was a long straight away for speed. Lourdie gunned it and took the lead. The sun and wind felt good, even through her leathers. The claustrophobic feeling of her latest nightmare dissipated with every hill she jumped.

  Far in the distance several guardians were doing elaborate flips and simultaneous jumps. Lourdie stopped to admire skills that far exceeded her own.

  “Who is that?” Lourdie pointed to the rider that was ahead of the pack and doing the most unbelievable maneuvers, all while maintaining his lead.

  Luke smirked as he pulled up beside her, “That would be my cousin.”

  Of course. Lourdie grumbled to herself.

  Another rider further back in the pack seemed a bit reckless to Lourdie, cutting people off and physically nudging others, attempting to make someone crash. The reckless one finally caught up to Temple and attempted the same barbaric stunts on the knight. Temple was the more experienced rider and gave the other man a taste of his own medicine. The latter ended up with a mouth full of dust as he crashed into the dirt while Temple sped off with confidence. Spotting his cousin and Lourdie, Temple circled around and headed towards them, leaving the pack behind.

  “Nice riding, cousin. Who was that?” Luke asked gesturing to the angry rider picking his bike up out of the dirt.

  “One guess,” Temple scoffed.

  “Bloody Lint!” Luke shook his head. He obviously knew the aggressive rider.

  “Good afternoon, Ms. Reese,” a warm smile crept across Temple’s lips. He seemed unfazed by the physical altercation.

  “Hello,” she said, a little dryer than she meant to. Still holding a grudge because he deceived her about his identity, Lourdie kept her sinister thoughts to herself. Temple is so not the type that will ever eat crow, so a nice dirt sandwich would have been awesome! Hell, a mud pie would have been like Christmas! Luke had begged and pleaded for Lourdie’s forgiveness every afternoon before training, repeatedly saying he had no idea that she had already met his cousin. He had even volunteered to be her personal shadowskin target to make it up to her if she would only forgive him. They had both laughed uncontrollably at the prospect and all had been forgiven ever since. Temple on the other hand had yet to apologize.

  Luke seemed preoccupied by something off in the horizon. “Excuse me a moment,” he took off like a rocket, dirt and pebbles spitting out from his back tires.

  No, don’t leave me with... him! Screamed Lourdie’s brain. Thanks, Luke, I will so get you back for this. Lourdie busied herself watching the horizon above the cliffs, the silence was surprisingly not awkward, but she didn't know what to say either. Lourdie suddenly rolled her eyes as a few guardians came around a bend doing more flips and acrobatics. Two were performing what she knew was called a superman and a bar hop, their feet touching in midair. She thought back to how Temple had described her fighting style as ‘flashy’ and how he preferred force to ‘flair’.

  “Those were some pretty sweet moves out there, Temple.” She used air quotes to emphasize her annoyance, “Dare I say they were even a bit flashy? I see that you’re not totally opposed to some flair in your life. Maybe there’s hope for you yet.”

  He guffawed, “Let’s hope so.”

  Far in the distance three figures were gathering what looked like long sticks from their nearby vehicle. “What are they going to do with those?” she asked Temple in a nicer tone this time.

  “I seem to have bruised their leader’s ego, so now it appears they plan to joust atop their dirt bikes to prove their worth,” Temple’s anger began to surface. The rivalry between the two men was palpable.

  Lourdie couldn’t believe what they were about to do. Someone could easily get killed. “Are they insane?”

  “No, just bloody idiots from the Bellows who apparently think rules are just suggestions here,” he said watching the impending collision intently.

  “So why aren’t you putting on your big knight pants and going over there and telling them what’s what?” She couldn’t believe he was just going to sit there with her
.

  Temple looked at her, arched his brow, and nodded back to the horizon.

  Just as Lourdie turned, Luke appeared over the last hill and stopped dead center in the trio’s makeshift list, knocking the rope into the ground. He got off his bike and was feverishly reprimanding the ‘bloody idiots’ on either side of him. They dropped their lances.

  “Do you have any younger siblings or cousins?” Temple asked as he watched his own cousin proudly.

  “You’ve done your homework on me, so you know that I don’t. But I get it. You don’t want to undermine your cousin’s authority by stepping in.” She was quiet for a minute, “It’s got to be rough on Luke and Louie, the Vicereine for a sister and a court knight for a cousin? Always battling to be seen as their own person, an individual, unique, not cloaked by someone else’s shadow.”

  Temple gave her a heartfelt smile as the disaster was averted.

  “What?” she scoffed at the strange look he was giving her.

  “You’re not what I expected,” he said sincerely.

  “Is that a compliment?” she knew it was, but his unexpected admiration was making her uncomfortable. She liked being mad at him.

  “The highest.”

  Lourdie was not going to admit that he wasn’t what she had expected either. She had assumed the British knight was going to be more like Marcus, rigid and a bit standoffish, or possibly even fatherly like Bishop. She was not expecting him to be young, and witty, and so damn sexy that her heart raced every time she was near him, “Yeah, well, I didn’t expect to be fooled into believing you were someone else either. I’m a straight shooter Temple and I don’t like bullshit. If nothing else, remember that.” She revved her dirt bike’s engine in preparation to drive off.

  His devilish grin returned, “Understood, Ms. Reese.”

  Lourdie left a pack of riders far behind on the dirt track. She wanted to alleviate some of her frustrations and do some solo jumps before meeting up with Louie and Abbey in the Bowler. With every jump she went higher and higher and her confidence and spirit lifted. Boldly, she closed her eyes on one jump and felt the world and her worries disappear around her. On her last and highest jump, she closed her eyes and released the handle bars. Spreading her arms wide like wings, she soared. For that brief moment she wasn’t a guardian any more. She wasn’t anything, she was free. A speck of dust floating in the air, a bird catching a current without a care, a darter flying.

  Lourdie’s eyes flew open. The room was still dark. She didn’t think a nightmare had woken her, that she could remember, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep anytime soon. Her cell phone beamed brightly, showing her that it was only 4 a.m. Oh come on! I just want some sleep. Like a grumpy teenager on a school day, she shoved her blankets aside and got out of bed. Her apprentice was still snoring quietly as she headed to their adjoining bathroom. She closed the door and, for fear of waking her apprentice, relied only on the light of the moon to see her way.

  Lourdie looked up as she washed her hands and was startled by what she saw. A stranger stared at her; desperate sunken eyes, thin parched skin, muscle barely attached to bone. Then, green eyes pierced the darkness with beautiful, depths so vivid and pure. She frantically fumbled for the light switch. The immediate brightness caused her to blink several times. She couldn’t seem to focus on the image in front of her as her eyes slowly adjusted to the bathroom lights. Her own green eyes stared blearily back at her, tinged with red from lack of sleep. Lourdie gripped the sink as she continued to stare at herself, trying to make sense of the strange image she had just seen. Dark circles had begun to form under her eyes recently. Standing in front of the mirror staring at her own image she was now having a difficult time recognizing herself. Lourdie shook her head. I need more sleep and no more nightmares, she thought as she turned to leave the room. Who was it, though, that stared back through the mirror? Lourdie’s instinct was to hurry away and not turn back. She did not believe it was her own reflection, didn’t want to believe that her nightmares were taking such a physical toll.

  The hunter hugged herself as she explored the sleeping castle barefoot. Her stun baton was weighing her shorts down exposing her waist, and the cold metal of her relics chilled her skin. She could have kicked herself for not changing out of her flimsy sleep shirt and shorts. It was freezing, but she thought the brisk walk would wear her out enough so she would be able to get back to sleep. She walked down an unfamiliar corridor on the first level of the castle and stopped at a pair of old narrow arched doors. The doors looked like they were hand carved from very heavy solid oak, their panel details worn down from years of use. Gouges and scrapes were everywhere. They looked like they had been through hell. They also looked like they could possibly hold an interesting new treasure to discover. She expected the ancient doors to be difficult to open, so she gave them a hefty push and ran smack into a wall of a man as he opened the doors from the inside.

  “I’m sorry, I thought the doors...” she said as her hands landed on the man’s chest, “Oh, it’s you.”

  He grabbed her wrists to help her as she regained her balance. All her nerve endings where their skin made contact electrified and her relics warmed under his touch. She tried to ignore it.

  “Sorry to disappoint you again, Ms. Reese,” he released her arms. “We really must quit meeting like this. Secret encounters? People may begin to gossip,” Temple said with that damn devilish grin of his.

  “And who am I meeting this morning? Evel Knievel, Lord of the castle, a poor country boy out for a run, or the court jester?” Lourdie said in the snarkiest tone she could muster so early in the morning.

  He laughed, obviously amused by her temper, “Well I do like to ride. However I only have time for a bit of a run this morning so, the country boy it is.” He looked thoughtful for a sliver of a second, “If I had the luxury, I’d be him every day.” His devilish grin widened. He must have noticed Lourdie shivering, “Care to join me?”

  “Are you crazy? It’s like minus twenty degrees out there,” Lourdie cringed at the thought of going outside. It looked like winter was going to hit quick and hard.

  “A slight exaggeration, but it’s the weather I am accustomed to hunting in. If it’s too much for your delicate American sensibilities perhaps you would care to warm yourself in our church instead. Maybe it will be more to your liking.” Temple opened the wooden arched doors wider and exited.

  The warmth from the space beckoned her in.

  “Good morning, Ms. Reese.” He closed the doors behind her.

  Oomph! That man is so infuriating. Lourdie looked into the room and gasped, “Wow.”

  Temporarily forgetting her frustration with Temple, she stood in awe as heat soaked into her bones. She couldn’t believe her eyes. She was standing in a slightly smaller version of the Pantheon in Rome. Ah-mazing! The majesty of the church hall deserved unimpeded adoration.

  Five rings of coffers gently rose up to meet the oculus at the dome’s apex. The cloud filled night sky was all that was visible through the opening as a column of snow gently fell through. Recessed lights highlighted the sunken panels of each row of coffers, dimming as they gained in altitude. The lighting created an eerie yet mesmerizing play of shadow and light. The column of snow became brighter and more reflective as it neared the ground. Flakes of snow turned to droplets of water as they touched the heated marble floor. Water slowly wept towards the circular ring of copper, inlaid seamlessly into the sloping floor, and disappeared into the hidden drainage system. Drops of water chimed and dinged underfoot as they traveled down a system of channels and tubes. As the snow continued, a chorus of droplets in different octaves joined in. The music they created was soft and serene.

  The church seemed intentionally devoid of specific religious objects. Lourdie thought the spiritual space was meant for all to feel welcome, to all religions, to all courts, to all her brothers and sisters around the world.

  After a quick change of clothes, Lourdie pulled up a wooden cha
ir beside Mum B and began helping her snap the tips off the endless mountain of green beans. The sun still hadn’t risen, but the kitchen’s fireplace lit the vast space and drenched it with its warmth.

  “Och, child you sleep less than this ol’ girl.” Mum B passed Lourdie an empty bowl to fill. “But I do enjoy your company in these wee hours of the morn. Tell me, what new treasures have you discovered in our fine castle?”

  “I found the church. The snow was falling through the dome. Mum B, it was so beautiful.” Constantly looking at her partner’s progress, Lourdie tried to snap the beans as efficiently as Mum B and was failing miserably.

  “Aye. Our little piece of heaven. Ain’t it grand?” Mum B wiped her hands down the front of her apron. The old Irish woman was excited to share her love of the castle’s history. “My Logan boy designed it himself, after the old one burned down. Did you know? Tis how he got the nickname Temple.”

  Lourdie just sat there stunned and slightly impressed. Though she would never admit it.

  “Aye, nearly ten years ago, after the netherwalker attack. After...well, that’s a sad tale for another time. Let’s just say I saw a boy become a man that day.” Mum B got a little teary eyed, “That family is the mortar between our stones. The earth that holds up these ol’ walls, strong ‘n true. And m’ Logan boy is the window that lets the sun shine through.” She pounded on her heart, “Them is why I stay.”

  “Wait. You’re talking about Temple? Logan Templeton? Prince of picking verbal fights?” Lourdie said sarcastically. All she mostly got from the man was a cocky attitude.

  “Aye, one in the same. Och! He has a stubborn streak as vast and wide as the day is long.” Mum B gave Lourdie a sly sideways glance. “As I suspect you of havin’, too, child.”

  “Mum B, me? Never!” Lourdie playfully exaggerated.