The Castle: Prequel to the Guardian Angel Series
Melissa Johnson
The Castle
Prequel to the Guardian Angel Series
By Melissa Johnson
Copyright 2013 Melissa Johnson
Text Copyright © 2013 Melissa Johnson
All Rights Reserved
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Excerpt: IF I STAY, GUARDIAN ANGEL SERIES #1
Chapter 1
The Day before the Castle Grand Opening
A cry of distress hitched a ride on the remnants of a breeze and bounded along the deserted corridors of the Castle. It traveled past doorways of empty classrooms and detoured long enough to send papers fluttering off the teachers’ desks before moving on, lifting the edges of newly hung tapestries. Only when the echo reached the third story alcove did it finally find acknowledgement and fade away.
“Did you hear that?” Heather stopped in mid stride and pivoted on one boot-clad foot toward the sound. She knew what that sound meant. Another child had disappeared. She took a step, but Marigold, walking beside her, held her back with a quick grasp of her elbow.
“Oh no you don’t.” Marigold continued her forward progress and pulled Heather along the corridor, her high heels clattering on the flagstones.
Heather winced as Marigold’s long nails dug into the soft flesh of her inner arm. “Let go, Mari! We must be close.”
“Close? Ha! In this Castle there’s no such thing as close. We just came from that direction. That can’t be the right way.”
But Marigold stopped suddenly and released her death grip like an afterthought. She spun in a circle, her dangly, moon crescent earrings continuing to swing wide beneath her spiky orange hair after her momentum ceased. She pointed an accusing finger at the now familiar view seen through the bay of floor to ceiling windows. “That cannot be right! How did we get back here again?”
“You mean at the alcove?” Heather rubbed her arm and glared at Marigold, fully aware of what was wrong with the view. Not that one could find fault with the beauty of the scene. From this high vantage point within the Castle, the mists floated like gossamer stepping stones across the valley toward the craggy mountains looming in the distance. Beyond the mountains was Dragon’s Keep, their home. But the problem was they shouldn’t be facing the mountains if they were at the opposite side of the Castle like they’d thought they were.
“Yes, I mean at the alcove!” Marigold snapped back.
They were both testy. Tricked by the misdirection of their senses, they’d been chasing sounds and walking in circles for the last half hour. As much as she hated to admit it, Marigold was right. There was no such thing as close when it came to sound and distance in the Castle.
“How do you think we got back here?” Heather bounced back Marigold’s question and stated the obvious answer. “Magic.”
As someone with a modest talent for magic herself, she couldn’t deny a certain amount of bemused admiration for how the Castle held together. It was amazing really. When she’d seen with her own eyes the crooked lines of what she’d thought were the architect’s preliminary drawings, she’d made allowances for a work in progress from a brilliant mind. She’d thought the builders couldn’t possibly replicate such a design, as it was. But they had. What’s more, as she and Marigold wandered through the maze of passages, they’d stepped through doorways that took them, in one step, to another level of the Castle altogether.
It also explained how they were well and truly lost.
Heather raked her fingers through her long, dark hair. “I can’t believe this! We can’t even help in the search because we are lost ourselves. We never should have left the Gathering Room.”
“We hardly thought we’d be gone this long!” Marigold reminded her.
They’d both thought the crisis had passed, otherwise they wouldn’t have left for what should have been a quick trip to Heather’s private quarters. At that time, all of the children had been accounted for and were under careful watch in the Gathering Room, the only room of the Castle large enough to accommodate everyone -- barely. Meant to be a cafeteria for the professors and students to use in staggered increments, the Gathering Room now functioned as a holding pen for everyone all at once, including hundreds of anxious parents.
If all had gone as planned, the parents would have left by now after settling the children in at their new school. But the fallout from the locket collection had changed everyone’s plans.
Heather sighed. They now dealt with the consequences of that ill-conceived idea and everyone had forgotten their initial enthusiasm. But she did understand how it had gathered steam. As the months of construction on the Castle unfolded and the Grand Opening neared, the Guardians had been eager to offer ideas to mark the occasion with something special. They hadn’t yet settled on a particular idea when the Council proposed using their lockets in a dedication ceremony. The idea took hold without the full realization the lockets would be collected a full day before the Grand Opening. But surely they could manage without them for a day?
Today answered that question. As could have been predicted, the Guardian children, especially the younger ones, behaved exactly like Guardian children were apt to do. Their abilities hadn’t been turned off. In spite of being instructed not to wander off, their curiosity got the better of them. Equipped as they were with the ability to teleport wherever in the world they took a notion, not to mention whenever, it hadn’t been long after the collection that they began to disappear. Only without their locket, the children were temporarily without a “homing device” of sorts. They suddenly found themselves without a way to get back home. Thankfully, the Guardians could follow if their trace hadn’t gone cold, and none of the children had remained missing long.
“Listen!” Marigold cocked her head to the side.
As if on cue, the remnant of a cheer reached them.
Heather shared a smile of relief with Marigold. “They found another one.”
“It appears so. Now if only they can manage to keep the children from disappearing right from under everyone’s noses.”
Heather sighed again, but it felt like an inadequate release of the pressure building within her. Inwardly, she wanted to kick something -- hard. She would kick the wall, but the unforgiving stone wouldn’t give nearly enough satisfaction. It was a poor substitute for what she really wanted to kick. Make that someone. Her husband Eric, for one. Then she’d move on to her brother-in-law, Thaddeus, and not spare the rest of the High Council.
Damn their arrogant immortal souls.
Out of habit, Heather lifted her hand to touch her own locket beneath her blouse and felt the deep loss when she found it gone. She shoved her hands in the back pockets of her jeans to keep from searching it out, uncomfortably reminded of her part in how readily everyone had complied to turn over their lockets. When the time had come for the collection she’d been the first to turn hers over in a show of support. As the wife of one of the Councilors, she could hardly have done anything else.
That’s what she told herself, but her participation left a vile taste in her mouth. Now the Guardians clamored to reverse the locket collection and since the High Council had, rather strategically in her opinion, sequestered themselves in their chambers at Dragon’s Keep, they turned to her to get them back. But it was too late and her influence was highly overrated. Truth be told, she’d jumped at the chance when Marigold had suggested a short break. Her presence seemed to d
o more harm than good.
No, the locket collection hadn’t been her idea. But by her actions today, no one, not even Marigold, could guess how bitterly she’d argued against it. It had been Thaddeus’ idea, she was certain of it, although the Council had presented it to the Guardians as a joint decision. The Castle, after all, was his pet project. But all she could think of now was how the Guardians had followed her lead. They had hesitated, she knew they had. In that moment, all eyes had turned to her. She’d thought, did she refuse and ruin the plans? Based on what? Dislike of her brother-in-law? A suspicion of Thaddeus’ motives? In the end her actions had spoken for her.
“This is my fault,” she blurted suddenly.
“Yes, it is.”
Heather sucked in her breath at Marigold’s quick agreement. “You think so too?”
“Well, I’m surprised you don’t know the Castle inside and out by now. You must have been here a dozen times by now.” Marigold plopped down on a nearby bench and slid off her ridiculously high-heeled shoes. “My feet are killing me!”
Heather relaxed a little when she realized Marigold thought she meant it was her fault for getting them lost. She grimaced. That too. As one of the professors, she should have come to the Castle many times before today.
“I’ve only been to the Castle once,” she admitted.
Marigold looked up from rubbing her feet. “Only once? But why?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
She shivered, rubbing her bare arms as a draft coincided with the unnerving memory of her not so long ago encounter with her brother-in-law.
“Don’t blame me if you’re cold.” Marigold misinterpreted the reason for her shiver. “I told you to bring your cardigan before we left your room.”
Too irritated with Marigold’s unnecessary I-told-you-so to be grateful for the distraction, she waved a hand to encompass Marigold’s scanty attire. “Excuse me for not taking advice on staying warm from a hooker in a mini-skirt.”
“I’m on assignment!” Her tone affronted, Marigold tugged at the bodice of her low cut, clingy top.
Heather rolled her eyes. Marigold’s excuse was flimsy. She did not have to continue wearing the clothing she wore on assignment when off duty. But Heather couldn’t help but be curious as to what Marigold planned to wear at the formal dedication ceremony tomorrow.
Putting aside Marigold’s quirks, she walked down the hall and tried to listen for sounds of activity. How could you not hear the hundreds of Guardians in the Gathering Room? Again a distant cry reached their hearing. This time Heather didn’t blindly follow, but the continued pattern reminded them that the situation, and the children for that matter, had not been contained.
She bit her lip. As reluctant as she was to face the Guardians, they needed to get back. But which way to go? From where they stood, corridors branched off in several directions. And sadly, while Mr. Fitzsimmons, the architect, had freely taken the creative license of magic – and likely alcohol too considering his legendary fondness for ale – he had balked at the aesthetically displeasing idea of signs.
As near as her memory could be trusted, behind them the corridor led back to the professors/Guardians’ private quarters and the boarding rooms for the children. Before them, a corridor led to the classrooms, the library and the Archive Room. Either way they went, the route was flanked with more mystery doorways. The question was, which one led to the Gathering Room? If only they could just teleport there themselves.
Marigold read her mind. “Ironic, isn’t it, that the children are free to teleport outside the Castle walls to wherever their little heart’s desire, but can’t teleport within the Castle.”
Heather refused to let her bait her into voicing criticisms. If she started, she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to stop. She was going to be a teacher here at the Castle and might as well get use to saying the words. “No teleporting within the Castle. It’s too disruptive.”
Marigold gave a snort. ”In this place? Is that what you’re going to tell some poor kid looking for the bathroom?”
She had to admit Marigold made a good point.
“At least the adults should be able to teleport! It’s unnatural!”
Again, Heather had to agree. As a Guardian she felt the same way. It was highly disconcerting to be without the ability to teleport, even in a limited capacity. The experience of being lost had also been a foreign concept. Until now.
“I bet, if you tried, you could get around Thaddeus’ spell.”
Heather didn’t miss the less than subtle accusation in her tone that she could get them out of this but chose not to. Marigold thought that just because Heather taught magic she could match Thaddeus’ powers.
“I couldn’t begin to understand how he blocked teleportation within the Castle,” she told Marigold. What she didn’t say was that yes, she had already tried…and failed. A perverse desire to get a rise out of Marigold overrode a twinge of hypocritical guilt and she added, “Besides, we need to set an example.”
As predicted, Marigold scowled. “Fine. Do things the hard way and let me know how that works for you.”
Heather let her hair fall forward to hide a twitch of amusement as she opened a door at random. The deafening roar of cheers, as loud as a crowded stadium celebrating a winning score, escaped into the corridor. Startled, she shut the door with a click.
“Found it,” she called out.
Marigold sat up straight. “Hot damn! By the sounds of it, two problems have been solved. Another child is found and we know the way to the Gathering Room.” She snagged her shoes and padded barefoot across the floor.
Yes, the Guardians were celebrating. But suddenly Heather felt in no hurry to reach the chaos of the Gathering Room.
“You go ahead,” she told Marigold. “I will be along shortly.”
Marigold frowned. “You’re not coming? But why?”
“I just need a few minutes to think of what I’m going to say to all the questions.”
It was true. The Guardians would demand answers. Since she supposedly had the ear of the decision makers, they would probably ask her again if the Council would change their minds and give back the lockets. She had no idea what she’d say – besides no.
“All right.” Marigold bit her lip, obviously uncertain. She opened the door and paused to look back. “But don’t wander off.”
Heather gave her a look that asked ‘how much of an idiot do you think I am?’ The last thing she wanted to do was get lost again. “I promise I won’t.”
Without waiting for Marigold to exit, she turned back to the floor to ceiling windows. She linked her fingers behind her neck in an attempt to ease the painfully tense muscles. Behind her she heard the roar of the Gathering Room abruptly cut off as the door closed.
Her shoulders slumped. She leaned her head against the glass and closed her eyes, shutting out the view. Home. It must be eerily quiet over there, since every child above the age of four was now here, at the Castle - - give or take the one or two who continued to wander off.
She lifted her head. Right now, beyond those mountains at Dragon’s Keep, her husband met with the rest of the High Council. If she stared hard enough, maybe he’d sense her. Maybe Eric would spare her a thought as the Council rolled along with their plans. Or, more accurately, his brother Thaddeus’ plans. That one carried too much influence.
Heather scowled. She could hardly open with opinions like that when she rejoined the Guardians! What would she say? She wouldn’t lie and say the Council had changed its mind. If there was one thing she’d learned about immortals it was that they didn’t like to be told they were wrong. They didn’t change their minds. Ever.
She blinked as the colors of the landscape began to blur together. If she knew how to make the impossible happen she would, especially when there was one imminent change about to happen that even the locket collection couldn’t overshadow.
“Oh, Heather, what is it?”
She jumped at Marigold’s voice.
“I thought you had left.”
Marigold shrugged. “I changed my mind.”
Her deeply concerned face told her she’d have a very hard time convincing her not to worry. Heather smiled weakly and took a deep breath, trying to gather her composure. Marigold had caught her with her guard down and she hoped she had a prayer of distracting her. “You thought I’d get lost. You win, I’ll come with you.”
She grabbed Marigold’s arm to lead her back to the door. Marigold easily pulled away and Heather momentarily regretted not having talons for fingernails. “Not so fast. What is really bothering you? It’s more than the locket business isn’t it?”
Heather turned back to the mountains, wrapping her arms around her waist. “Isn’t that enough?”
“More than enough, but that isn’t it. Is it Eric?”
She glanced sharply at Marigold, who pushed for her to confide in her as she had when they were girls. She wished she could. It had been too long. But even though it was petty and unfair of her to think Marigold had a colossal I-told-you-so stored up for five years, she’d been careful for a long time not to deliver an opening.
No regrets. That was the promise she’d made to Eric. And she’d said the same to Marigold too when she’d shocked her friend by confessing she’d fallen in love with an immortal. Blunt, as always, Marigold had pointed out every pitfall.
Heather bit her lip. She hadn’t quite forgiven her about that. So how could she tell her now where regrets had led her?
“Just spit it out,” Marigold urged.
She opened her mouth to make some excuse. Instead, the truth tumbled out. “I’m pregnant.”
