With a grimace he shut the thoughts out. They were exactly why he didn’t want the sword with him. If someone hurt Celia, and he had Justice in hand, there was nothing that would stop him from burning the world to the ground.
“No, no,” the Guardian said, turning his back and moving on. “You keep it until we’re back to the storeroom.”
Solomon took his hand off the sword, letting the feelings it inspired drift away into nothingness.
“That wasn’t much of a challenge, you know. To get in here, I mean,” he said to the large, hairy back in front of him.
“No? Then why are you all sweaty and sandy? Seemed like a lot of effort to me.”
“Sure, but anyone could have done it.”
“Maybe so. But the question is, would anyone have done it? Or would they simply have given up?”
“Why would someone do that? If they came here looking for you, then why would they stop before they found you?”
“The fact that you even ask that is what makes you who you are, Solomon. And is why I believe you when you say that you will return Justice here without me having to take it from you.”
They reached the end of the tunnel and the Guardian shoved a heavy wooden door. It creaked as it opened into a room filled with treasure, lit by a glowing stone set into the ceiling. Coins, gems, jewelry, plates, cups and weapons of every type. It was here that the Guardian kept items of value for safekeeping, either for someone, or to keep them from someone.
He swept his arm across his body, indicating that Solomon should go first.
“Now,” the Guardian said, when they were both in the room, “Justice can go right there.” He pointed to a blank spot on the wall, the same place it had leaned when Solomon came for it a few short weeks ago.
Solomon nodded and walked to the area, unbuckling his sword belt. He took Justice, still sheathed, and set it against the wall. For a moment, his fingers lingered against the hilt, a small taste of that indescribable feeling of power flowing into him.
Then he took his hand away, stood, and turned smiling back to the Guardian.
“You’re the only one,” the giant said. “The only one to give it up willingly. And you’ve done it not once, but twice now. How?”
Solomon shrugged. “It doesn’t mean that much to me.”
Really, he was downplaying it. It meant a great deal to him. Just not as much as other things.
“Oh,” he said, “I almost forgot.” He set his pack down, took out the lantern, and looked at it sadly. “Did you know what it would do?”
The Guardian shrugged. “Not really. I knew it would help, that it was linked to your sword somehow. As for how it worked, or what it would cost Jediah? No, that I didn’t know.”
Solomon carefully set it down.
“Well,” he said, “with that, I’m off.”
“Take care of yourself, Solomon,” the Guardian said. “There are things in the worlds beyond the Greenweald that can test even you.”
“You sound like you know something.”
“I know a great many things, my friend. But what you’ll face? No, that I don’t. Still, be mindful of your surroundings, and look for friends in strange places. Sometimes, that’s where the best ones are hiding.”
Solomon smiled, and reached up to pat the Guardian’s shoulder as he passed.
Chapter 5
Shireen felt like screaming. Solomon had been gone for less than a day, and already she was tired of being Head of House. Leading was different when Towering Oaks was in the midst of a crisis, with an army at the gates and living nightmares coming near. Then, it had been a matter of stepping up because someone needed to.
But this? This was bureaucracy at its worst. The desk was snowed under in paperwork, and shuffling through it, trying to make sense of it all, was illuminating. Mostly what it revealed was how little of it Solomon had been paying attention to.
Accelerated training schedules to try to rebuild their numbers quickly. Promotions for acts of valor on the field of battle. Requisitions for supplies from other Houses, or from outside the Greenweald. All of it apparently ran across this desk and needed to be signed off on by the Head.
How had Jediah done it all?
She dropped her head into her hands and closed her eyes.
“That bad?”
She looked up and almost smiled as Orlando sat down across from her. “Yes,” she replied. “It’s that bad. I don’t think Solomon even looked at most of this stuff.” She pushed a few papers around despondently. “Although, maybe I’m being too hard on him. I don’t even know where to begin, and he probably felt the same. Honestly, I don’t know how Jediah did it.”
“He had help,” Orlando said. His tone was matter-of-fact as he picked up a requisition form and read it over.
Shireen stared at him. She loved him, but there were times she was ready to kill him. He thought he was hiding it, but she knew perfectly well that he knew Solomon was leaving that morning and didn’t say a word to her about it. She assumed Solomon had asked to break the news to her himself.
And now this.
“What do you mean, ‘he had help’?” she asked, her voice quiet.
Orlando looked up from the form. “He had help. An assistant. You knew that, right?”
“No. I didn’t. Who was it?”
“Samuel. He worked for Jediah for years.”
Shireen rubbed her eyes. “And where is Samuel now?”
Orlando shrugged. “No idea. He wasn’t killed in the fighting, but where he’s been since then, I don’t know.”
She pursed her lips and glared at her lover. After a moment, he got up and headed for the door. “I have an idea,”
