The Prophecy (The Guardians) - By Wendy Owens Page 0,10

been his good ear, forward.

“Baylor,” Gabe said louder, glancing around cautiously. “Can you tell me where to find Baylor?”

“Baylor.” The man cackled. “Don’t know no Baylor.”

Gabe felt a panic rush over him. He was certain the entire pub had heard the bartender. Without hesitation or another word, Gabe hopped up from the stool and darted towards the door.

“You don’t want nuttin’ to drink?” the man cried out after him.

Gabe did not respond. He did not even turn to look at the man. He simply slipped from the door he had entered just moments ago, mingling his way into the flow of street traffic. He would ask Kryn, Gabe decided. Kryn would know what happened; he would know where Baylor went.

Cautiously, Gabe made his way to the other end of town. Kryn’s blacksmith shop was at the edge of Baynar. Gabe was confident the oversized, burly man would have answers for him. When he had first met Baynar and Kryn, he assumed they must have been brothers or some other relation. It wasn’t possible for two men to be so large in girth, he had thought, and not be from the same genetics. In fact, they were not related, but they were however the closest of friends.

Gabe was glad he was getting close to Kryn’s shop, he was sure the man would be a comforting site. Gabe felt his lunch rise up violently in his stomach at what he saw next. Focusing on keeping his composure, Gabe continued to walk past the old burned out shell that was left of the blacksmith shop. The earth had long since reclaimed the pile of ash and rubble, wild grass and flowers poking up through the destruction.

Crossing the small wooden bridge, just past the rubble, Gabe ducked off to the left and swooped underneath into hiding. Once sure he was secure, and could not be seen by those that passed overhead, Gabe collapsed onto the dirt and grass. Turning on his side his body convulsed, and relieved itself of any food that had been in his belly. Rachel was right. He was a liability. Anyone who tried to protect him ended up paying a high price. He didn’t know if his old friends were dead, but he was certain whatever fate had found them must have been bad.

Gabe thought of Uri. Maybe that was why he had not yet returned. Maybe Uri was already dead. What was the point? Why stay alive only to be alone? Rachel’s recent company had reminded Gabe of what life had been like when he had friends. He used to laugh. He used to have more of a reason to get up in the morning than to just tend to the garden. Everything in his life now was simple, too simple. It was the basic things he worried about, like having food in the winter. All he thought about was what he would need to survive alone. Winter would come and go. Then next year, still alone, nobody to talk to, nobody to share with, he would do it all again. Why was he running? Why was he hiding? What was the point in surviving when you’re alone? Gabe didn’t have an answer.

“Gabe?” The small voice behind him caused him to jump, his heart skipping a beat.

Gabe spun around to see who had called his name, wiping a bit of vomit from the corner of his mouth as he did so.

“It is you.” the woman said, not moving.

“Clarite?” Gabe asked, unconvinced the frail woman that stood before him was not long ago the sweet girl that had given him aid.

She nodded and smiled, so overcome with emotion she was unable to speak further. Gabe rushed up to her, and as he did he recognized little bits of her face. She had changed greatly, but it was still her. With a sigh of relief, Gabe pulled her close to him for a deep embrace. “I thought you were all—” Gabe paused, not willing to give the words life.

“I’m fine. What are you doing here though? If they find you, well, it wouldn’t be good for anyone.” Clarite said softly. Gabe noticed even her demeanor had changed. She had always been boisterous, even the loud and commanding type when needed. Clarite now reminded him of a weak and feeble mouse. She barely moved and when she did it was obvious it took much effort on her part. She seemed to have aged forty years instead of the four he had been