The Story of Pyndingum (Book Three of the Guardians Series)

Judgment

She had ended up on the ground somehow. Her back was pressed against cold dead leaves and she wondered if she would be just as cold, just as dead, before the day was over. Inches from her face was Lucas's, enmity filled his expression. Murder filled his eyes. After seeing inside of his mind she was terrified of the elf holding her down, panicked by the power he held over her and the knife he held at her throat.

Surely she hadn't been that loud? How had he found her so easily, and why had she been unable to pull away?

"Why are you in my head?"

He knew, he had felt her presence. But how? He was from the North, they had no magic. She stared up into his face and knew that he had magic, he was powerful. But he had no control. She could see it playing in his eyes, she could tell that he was losing control. Suddenly he pulled her up and thumped he head back into the hard ground.

"I said why were you in my head!"

Vision swirled as the impact jarred her, he was strong. So strong. She wouldn't live another hour, minute, second, he would kill her. She must not speak.

"What did you see to make you react with such fear?"

His voice was different now, kinder, but she wasn't fooled. He would kill her so that she didn't tell anyone of what she had discovered. He didn't know that every Southern elf faced similar problems, even if they didn't usually revolve around murder. He was a child, a powerful child subject to the whims of his own magic. An adult who had never learned to control his power.

Her cheek stung where he slapper her, then the other. She let her head roll one way then the other listlessly, he must think that she was . . . she didn't know. She just couldn't react to him.

"Are you a Southerner? Are you a Guardian? A soldier? Who are you? Why were you in my head?"

Question after question, each repeated again and again, she wanted him to leave.

"Yes," she whispered, "no, yes, no one, it was my duty."

He must have been shaking her because he stopped.

"Why was it your duty to violate my inner-most sanctum. You dove into my memories as if they were nothing to me. As if they weren't sacred to me. I ought to kill you for that."

She tried to push him away but his knife was again on her throat. She could tell he was tired, weak, cold, she could fight him off. But with his weapon so close such a move would be suicide. So instead she relaxed into the ground, trying not to appear threatening.

"I was to determine your purpose."

He snorted, "There are these things called words. You can use them to make sentences. It's really quite amazing." The sarcasm dripping from his words was as toxic as venom.

She stared at him confused, "Yes, but words can also be used to make lies. I found only the truth in your mind."

The knife pressed closer against her skin, "And what truth was that?"

Shuddering she remembered the memory, piles of corpses wearing the insignia of the south.

"There is only one truth, and you already know what it is."

She could feel his grip weakening, he was tired, he needed rest.

She flexed watching his movements, his response time. Grinding her head back she pushed a shallow dip into the ground, above the sky flashed purple. Swallowing a grin she again stopped moving. Lucas was shivering, perhaps he knew what she had seen, she could see the emotion in his eyes as he remembered the moment. The truth was apparent. She released a short burst of magic, and above her the sky filled with a golden light.