Shared Mercy Book 5 of the Guardians Saga

CH. 20.2 To Remember Or Not

It was a beautiful sunny day, warm breeze rustling the trees, insects fluttering and buzzing, vast forest in the distance, a small river to the east, the campfire across from her. Alex sat outside their tent on Olam, sharpening her sword. The metal rang out in a high, clear note as she worked the file along the edge. Drake sat beside her, gluing fletching to arrows.

"You seem depressed," he said.

"I miss Razz," she replied. "And Trac, Kress, Lok and Zilik." She sighed. "They always treat me like such a hero there. I'm spoiled."

Drake straightened and looked her in the eye. "At the risk of being repetitious, you are a hero, a Guardian."

"Yeah, yeah." Alex waved her whetting stone vaguely. "I bring such joy to the Agama home world: black portals and monsters and the like."

"The brothers said that wasn't your fault." Drake held an arrow up to eye level and inspected the shaft and fletching. The fletching was cut and colored of the finest feathers and the shaft was a straight and true piece of spruce and smelled of tree, fresh air, and water.

"They have to say that." Alex's hand convulsed around the whetting stone. Her sword dropped to the ground. "No, not now." She pressed her fists to her head. "Make it stop."

"What is it?" Alarmed, Drake set aside his arrows and peered in Alex's face. "How do I make it stop?"

"Short circuit in my brain," Alex said through gritted teeth.

"Short what?"

"Brain damage." Alex bent over her knees. "Please make it stop."

"How?" Drake rubbed her back.

"Rile holds me and sings. Cale holds my hands and prays," Alex said.

"I only know dirty drinking songs," Drake said ruefully, "I'm not known for my prayers."

Alex shuddered and her fists turned white. Drake placed his hands over hers.

"Creator of All, please help Your Guardian Alex. You don't have any reason to listen to me, but she serves You, so please help her."

Alex moaned. Drake touched his forehead to hers and a distant roaring filled his head.

Drake continued in an unsteady voice, "Please, Creator, she's helped so many. Help her now. She is precious to me, to us."

"No, no," Alex moaned. Her voice was a thread of sound, barely audible over the pounding in their heads.

Drake heard a harsh voice in the roaring. It spoke a language he didn't understand, but was coarse and insistent. Waves of despair and anger and shame crashed over them, like a tsunami of blackness.

"Just street trash, garbage," Alex whispered. "Worthless."

"No," Drake said, "Guardian, warrior, saved so many, freed so many."

The roaring grew in Drake's head and he heard his father screaming at him and his mother. The words were the same that Alex whispered. He could feel the blood vessels in their heads pulsing, feel the pressure building until it was a physical pain.

"Stop," Drake said. "I won't listen to you, father. Never again." He gripped Alex's fists like they were a lifeline.

"Whore, scum," she sobbed. "Deserved what happened to me."

"We won't listen to you," Drake told his screaming father. "Don't listen," he begged Alex. "He's wrong about us." He pressed his forehead more firmly against hers. The pressure built and built until he thought their heads would explode.