EIGHT

“I don’t think we’re going to have to do much. I’m sure I’ve already gained his attention,” Dex said.

“Oh?” Lark queried, eyeing Darius’s brother carefully. He still got a kick out of the fact that Dex was once the famous warden known as Charlemagne. Historically, he had been one of the most respected knights, not only in their society but the human one too. He had been one of the few wardens who had immersed themselves in human affairs – defending humans, wardens and paladins alike in countless battles over the centuries. When he had gone off the reservation, it had been a terrible blow – not just to Darius as his brother – but also to their society. They had lost one of their most noble and powerful protectors of Air.

Dex shrugged his shoulders, now broad and firm with muscles, “Chades usually react to me in one of two ways; either they embrace me as one of their own or they hate me on sight. My differences either comfort them or piss them off.”

“Really?” Ivy asked, saving Lark from doing the same.

Dex nodded and began walking in the direction of the tree-line, “They can feel me just like I can feel them. In the past, I was regarded as similar enough to be accepted or different enough to be shunned. Assuming Max hasn’t gone overboard with her healing mojo, I figure the chade will recognise me on some level.”

Even as he spoke, Lark felt a small shudder beneath his feet. It may have been a subtle disturbance physically but the feeling of wrongness that accompanied it was intense. It was always this way, he acknowledged. Wardens were supposed to be the guardians of nature; protectors, cultivators, nurturers. When one converted to a chade, nature reeled in fear and pain. Even as a paladin he could feel the injustice in his element. A warden felt it on a much grander and much more intense level. And Max being a Custodian? It was an intimate horror to her, Lark knew.

The feeling of unease increased as the shadows near the trees lengthened and the sunlight seemed to sputter and die as gloomy darkness replaced the sunny, light-filled day. The air began to chill and wind whipped up the stray leaves and dirt, creating menacing tiny tornadoes. A dark form began to take shape from the ground up as it made its way steadily closer to him and his two companions. Mere moments later, a very pale, very thin male with black straw-like hair and hollow eyes stood before them. The chade raised his head and sniffed even as the wind continued to kick up angrily around them. He glared in their direction, looking almost disgruntled to Lark, probably because there was no warden with them.

Chades always focused on the largest power source and that was wardens. It wasn’t unheard of for chades to target paladins as well and although they could drain their energy to a certain extent, it never resulted in the complete draining of their life-force as it did with the wardens. Wardens who had their vitality completely drained, withered in on themselves; muscles, skin, and even bones wilting and collapsing like dried-out husks. It was the singularly most disturbing thing he had ever had the displeasure of witnessing. He couldn’t even imagine the horror of witnessing it on a mass scale like many of his fellow knights. And for Ryker and Diana to have lost their lieges to these creatures in battle? It was no wonder Ryker had been such a miserable, mean bastard for so many years.

The chade, having determined no living battery pack was with them, had apparently decided it was pissed enough to take out its frustrations on them, for he began his forward momentum once again. And this time it was swift, gliding – chades never appeared to walk or run – in their direction at a rapid pace, his mouth elongating obscenely.

Hoping they would be able to incapacitate the fallen warden and not have to take its head, Lark readied himself for a fight. He was completely shocked though when Dex stepped up beside him and appeared to become as insubstantial as air for a few seconds. His feet hovered off the ground, his form wavered in and out, and his eyes turned black as night. His shadow also lengthened in a way which was very reminiscent of the chades.

The one thing wardens could not do was literally become their element. That strange ability was reserved solely for chades once they had turned to the dark side. He had no idea what it meant that Dex was still able to perform the action now but it sure gained the attention of the advancing chade, who had stopped in its tracks and was staring hollowly at Dex.

The chade was only metres from them now and it took everything in him not to retrieve his scythe from its leather harness strapped across his back. They were hoping to bring the chade in peacefully. A fact Ivy seemed to have forgotten if the sickle gripped tightly in her hand was any indication.

He wagged his finger at her, “Uh uh uh,” he tsked, “no killy of the creepy – but hopefully redeemable – stick-man.”

Her stance relaxed minutely and she lowered her weapon a few stingy inches, “Sorry. Force of habit.”

He snorted, about to reply when abrupt movement from the chade recaptured his attention. He needn’t have concerned himself. Dex made a few controlled hand gestures and had two of his very own mini tornadoes swirling to life in front of them. Lark watched as they quickly crossed the distance to the chade and seemed to wrap around his ankles. The chade’s mouth opened wider and Lark swore he saw anger in those dark orbs as it struggled futilely against the makeshift bonds. Anger was good, Lark assured himself. Anger meant the chade still had some emotions and was perhaps redeemable as Max hoped.

Lark eyed the chade for another moment before turning to Dex, “You can still transform into a pure element like the chades? How?”

Dex sighed, shoving fingers through the dark locks of his hair, “I’m not a warden, Lark. Despite Max’s magic and the change in my appearance. I’m not a chade either, but something in between. I have abilities from both my lives. And yes – that includes being able to make myself as insubstantial as the wind.”

“Max knows you can still do that?” he asked.

Dex raised an eyebrow at him, “Of course. It’s one of the reasons she sent me with you. Darn woman seems to know every bloody thing,” he muttered, as if in afterthought and sounding much like Ryker did when he was both disgruntled and awed by the little custodian.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Lark laughed, slapping Dex on the back, “It’s one of her charms. You’ll grow to love it – and her,” he assured him.

Dex smiled a little, “Seems I already do. Hard not to.”

Indeed it was, Lark confirmed, silently. Max was so naturally appealing that just about everyone ended up loving her. Either that, or it was the opposite end of the spectrum; they hated her. There weren’t too many people who remained on the fence and were ambivalent. He supposed the curse of being so open and alluring was that she elicited only intense emotions in those people around her; love or hate. The only problem with such extreme feelings? They created extremists – those that blindly followed or those that wanted to destroy.

He was torn between wanting her plan of curing the chades to work and praying there was no need for them to garner more loyal followers. Because that is what Max was aiming for; her squirrel army of redeemed monsters.

He shook himself from his thoughts, glancing from the eerily silent chade to his two companions, “Well, looks like we’ve caught ourselves a chade.”

Ivy huffed, “Now what do we do with him?”

Dex shrugged, “Take him back to Max, I guess.”

“This was just supposed to be a scouting expedition,” Lark reminded them.

“Well, we’ve successfully scouted and identified a chade. No point wasting him. I say we take him with us. Ivy, you have those fancy chade cuffs?” Dex turned to ask the ranger.

She nodded, “Of course. But I’m not sure if they will work on him. He looks too far gone.”

Along with the sickle being the unique weapon of the rangers, they also had specially made shackles that have the ability to bind soon-to-be chades. But once the chades were able to dissolve into an element, Lark knew the cuffs were essentially useless.

“We should at least try,” was Dex’s response. “If not, I can probably maintain my little whirlwinds long enough to get us back to the house. I’ll need to recharge as soon as we get there though,” he informed Ivy. “I can already feel the drain on my powers.”

Ivy shrugged negligently as if that were no big deal when Lark knew that it was. Ranger’s never bonded themselves with wardens. And although they produced the life-giving energy just like he and his fellow paladins, they volunteered that energy sparingly. It was one of the reasons why he had been so shocked when Ivy had offered to be Dex’s semi-permanent keeper – watching him for signs of diminishing faculties as well as providing vitality on a regular basis. That was, until two weeks ago when Max had asked Ivy to reveal her left bicep and the brand of seven symbols etched on it. Then it had begun to make sense. Still, it couldn’t be an entirely comfortable situation for the woman. He wondered why he cared so much – she had made it abundantly clear she wanted nothing to do with him. He should stop worrying about her thoughts and feelings. Too bad his fickle heart wouldn’t listen to his head.

“Well?” Dex questioned, awaiting his answer.

Despite the huge age gap, power disparity, and standing within society between them, Lark was technically in charge of this little operation; he was the sworn knight of a Custodian and Dex was a reformed chade; “I don’t know,” he admitted, “Ryker won’t like us bringing him back.”

Sure enough, seconds later his Captain’s booming voice resonated within his skull;

‘No, I sure as hell do not!’

‘Babe, will you chill? Of course he needs to come here. How else am I going to heal him?’ Max asked, sounding reasonable to herself, Lark was sure. But to Ryker – and the rest of her paladins, including himself – having an unknown chade at their home was anything but.

‘Max, you can’t bring an unidentified chade into the house. Especially not one that is so feral,’ the voice belonged to Darius.

‘Fine then. You don’t want him here? I’ll go to him.’

Lark winced, hearing the stubbornness in his liege’s voice. She was going to get her way sooner or later and he wished Ryker would just give in before they got too pissy with each other.

‘I do not get pissy!’

Lark rolled his eyes – Ryker was right; of course he didn’t get pissy. A more even-tempered man he’d never met.

‘I can hear you, Lark,’ he was promptly informed by the man himself.

‘Yes sir, sorry sir.’

An ill-tempered snort was Ryker’s only response.

“Lark!”

He jumped at Dex’s loud voice, “Huh?”

“You’re spacing,” the ex-chade pointed out.

“I’m not spacing. The Order is discussing the best way to deal with the chade.”

Dex frowned, “The best way to deal with him? I thought we all agreed to help cure the poor souls.”

Lark knew Dex had become a little protective of the chades. The situation was very close to home for him. “And that’s what we’re going to do. I’m just not sure taking this one home to the Max-buffet is the wisest choice.”

“You were the first person to talk to me other than Max, the first person to treat me like a human being instead of an animal,” Dex reminded him.

Lark nodded, “I know. And I truly want to help this chade, just like I want to help all the others. But this situation is different. For one, none of us have the history with this chade as we did with you. He’s not a long-lost brother, an old friend, or a new lover. He’s a complete unknown. What’s more, his degeneration is far worse than yours ever was. Look at him,” he demanded, eying the lank hair, pallid skin, and thin frame of the chade, “He’s so white he looks like an albino, his hair is like limp black straw, and his mouth does that creepy unhinging thing.”

The chade appeared to take exception to his words if the long hiss was anything to go by. So, he wasn’t beyond comprehending them – or personal vanity – it would seem.

“I think you hurt his feelings,” Ivy smiled a little as she cracked the first joke he had ever heard her utter.

Typical, he thought, her sense of humour would have to be twisted just like the other females in his life. Seems he and his fellow soldiers were doomed to be surrounded by warped, independent women who were as mouthy as they were beautiful. He tried for all of a second to be disappointed by that fact but all he could feel was happiness. He loved the whole kooky bunch of them.

Lark rubbed absently at his coat of arms as the thick vines squirmed and wriggled across his forearm. The Order was still ‘discussing’ the situation – probably something that would have been helpful to do prior to coming here, Lark thought with humour.

It was becoming more and more heated and more power was surging through the bond, hence why his brand was practically jumping off his skin. It hadn’t taken them long to figure out that Max’s unique Heraldry was like a conduit for her power. The sheer size of the brand – a full sleeve from shoulder to wrist – and the odd fact that it moved were all testaments to her Custodian status and incredible abilities. He believed it was one of the reasons why the Order link was so strong and they could communicate across such large distances. It was also why Max could now recharge her vitality without actually having to touch them. In fact, Lark bet she could even syphon his endless supply of the power-giving energy from here. She … that’s it! He had an idea!