“Do you want some?”
Alistair glanced to the side to see Rima offering a small container of light pink lip salve.
“It’s made of beeswax.”
He ran a finger over his lips; they were a little chapped since the wind was drier and colder than before. His gaze dropped down to her lips; they looked soft and were a pleasant coral color. A sudden urge to kiss her again came over him.
Her cheeks turned a lovely shade of peach as she turned away. “You can’t kiss it off of me,” she murmured.
Alistair smirked and purred, “Didn’t know you thought of me that way.” He paused for a moment before continuing somewhat bashfully, “How did you know?”
She turned back to him and exhaled softly. “Do you want the salve or not?”
“I’ll take it, thanks,” he said, plucking it out of her hands and swiping some over his mouth.
He handed the container back to her when he heard Laurel, who was just up ahead, say, “There it is!”
Alistair looked up and the air rushed from his lungs in a small cloud of vapor. The steely mountain that towered above them ended in the tallest, sharpest peak he had ever seen: Mount Pari. Thick blankets of snow covered most of the mountain, and only scant areas were bared to reveal the flinty stone beneath. Before he had any chance to hold it back, a shudder ran through him.
“What do you think will be up there?” Caleb asked.
Birds? Dragons?
“I don’t know, but it’d probably be nice to have a bow,” Rima said.
“But we don’t have one.” Alistair noticed Laurel sounded worried.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got my elemental magic.” His Guardian put her hands on her hips as Shaheen, who was on her shoulder and surprisingly, not shivering, chirped, as if in response. His lips twitched.
“How about you, Shan?” Alistair asked, turning to him.
The monk drew to his full height and regarded the Protector carefully. “What do you mean?”
Alistair blinked. “You have no weapons.”
Shan smiled and simply replied, “My body is my weapon.” Then he tapped his forehead and said, “As is my mind.”
Laurel was doing a terrible job of hiding her admiration for the monk. Alistair felt an odd twinge of jealousy at Shan's words but ignored it.
He forced what he hoped was a passable smile to Shan and said, “Both will serve you well, then.” The monk simply nodded in his direction, keeping his face blank. Alistair had no doubts that both the monk’s mind and body were likely sharper and stronger than his own.
He glanced over at Rima, who was preoccupied speaking with Laurel.
I need to do a better job protecting her this time.
They slowly made their way up the snow-covered stone steps. Upon reaching the top, the only thing that greeted them was the side of the mountain. The Three Guardians debated amongst themselves for a moment before Rima came up with the idea that Shan should be able to open the door next since the test was for him.
Alistair watched as the monk walked up and held up an outstretched palm in front of him. For a moment, there was silence. He swore he could see a faint golden glow from Shan’s hand. Then the monk curled his hand into a fist and rammed it against the side of the mountain.
YOU ARE READING
Guardians of the Prophecy
FantasyOn her eighteenth birthday, Rima left her hometown to embark on a journey, as prophesized by two people. She is one of the Three Guardians chosen to protect a mythical source of magic in her world... magic that has been rumored to have the ability...
