White Orchids {BOOK 1 COMPLETED}

Chapter 12

It's not a corridor. No orange lamps with crystalized spirals. No ceiling made of darkness and footprints. I've never been here before. It's a medium-sized room with stone walls, the only furniture is a large, round marble table in white with no chairs. There's no doors nor windows. The gate that Clover created now lies in the form of a stone in his pocket. In Blomst's personal room the door had still been there on the wall, it seems like the only way to get here is through the gate stones.

In front of us aren't just Blomst but two other guardians. In the air hangs a thick, forceful atmosphere. The male guardian looks to have an African ethnicity, while the woman looks south Asian. Her well-maintained, wavy hair is pearl-white and she's a tad shorter than me. On her forehead she has a mark of a spiral, right above the space between the eyebrows. The other guardian has a mark of a wine-red rhomb at the same place, but what catches my attention the most is the large scar where one of his eyes should be.

"You're here," says Blomst and she is staring straight at my aching throat. "How could you let her run off by herself?"

Before Clover can answer, the female guardian marches over. She grabs my chin and forces my head up to study the throat. While her free hand touches the blisters I can feel the burning sensation spread through me in away I haven't felt in a long time. She pushes one of her finger into the hole where the wraith's nails dug into my skin. I have to push my lips together and bite down to not scream. Once she pulls away I take a step back. It's like I can feel the wraith's long nails deep in my throat again.

"You were lucky," the guardian says. "It almost reached into the core."

She takes a step back.

"Couleur," Blomst begins and points her whole hand – with the palm upright – at the woman, she moves it towards the man who stands further back and watches us from a distance, "and Cerberus."

I can see something gentle in his gaze. Cerberus bows with his hand against one of his shoulders. He won't let go of us with his only eye. It has a shine to it and the color reminds me of the liquid floating down the well in the Eleven.

I force myself to break eye-contact with Cerberus.

"You'll have to excuse us, we've been through a lot in a very short time," says Blomst and gives Couleur a glance with a hint of a warning.

Couleur takes a few steps to the side, the dark and judging feeling is still present in her eyes. Of what she judges us of I haven't the faintest clue.

"We can get you a salve. For your throat," Cerberus says, the words seem carefully thought out.

"Your hand," says Blomst.

I extend it and she carefully put her hand over mine but leaves a small space between them. A small, round box falls down in my open palm.

"Lubricate your throat every time it starts burning and stinging. Until it completely disappears."

"Thank you."

The box is wine red with a symbol of a chamomile flower on its lid.

Clover takes a step forward. "We're not here so you could give her the ointment while the other guardians watch, are we? What are we actually here for? You wouldn't take us here for only this. You had us wait for almost two days."

Clover stands with his back straight and his hands in his pocket, but his posture looks unnatural. He's not as confident as he likes to seem.

"That is true," says Couleur and grimaces. "The fact that you saw, spoke with one of the Fractured is the reason you're here."