The Prophecy (The Guardians) - By Wendy Owens Page 0,6

of his life forever.

“I’m sorry, is this upsetting to you?” Rachel inquired seeing Gabe’s discomfort.

“No, of course not, why would it upset me?” Gabe snapped instinctively. Gabe couldn’t admit, even to himself, that any part of his history at Rampart still bothered him.

“I don’t know, but you seemed to get pretty tense when I asked about the carving. It’s no big deal. You don’t have to talk about it. I just thought it was pretty amazing, that’s all.” Rachel replied, walking past him and picking up the bucket she had set down earlier. Pouring the water into the larger container, she turned to walk back to the stream.

“It’s none of your business. Perhaps as a guest you should learn to respect people’s privacy.” Gabe took a deep breath, studying the clumps of dirt around his feet. He wanted to tell Rachel that she wasn’t welcome, that her presence was just an annoyance. Though, no matter how much he wanted to tell her that, he did not.

Rachel yelled over her shoulder as she continued to walk away, “Fine, you don’t have to worry about me getting in your way. So sorry!”

Rachel’s tone made it evident to Gabe that his response had outraged her. Looking back to the earth and continuing his work, he was determined not to chase after her. She was a guest in his home. He was not about to feel bad about correcting her for snooping. It was bad enough her mere presence was putting him in danger, now she was going to pry into his personal life. The thoughts racing through Gabe’s mind only served to aggravate him more.

CHAPTER THREE

Gabe wiped the sweat from his brow with his forearm. He had managed to keep his thoughts on his work rather than the argument he had earlier with Rachel. She had disappeared from his presence hours ago and since then, he had not seen a trace of her. He smirked, pleased with himself and the fact that it took such little effort on his part to enrage the girl. He saw her as silly, and insignificant. Her reaction simply solidified his opinion of her.

No matter how much she irritated him though, he had agreed to watch over her until Uri’s return. Reluctantly, Gabe walked to his cabin to ensure Rachel was tucked away safely inside. He was not looking forward to the conversation that would inevitably ensue. She would want to discuss the argument, her feelings, and how they could correct the problem with their relationship. The problem was that Gabe wanted no sort of relationship with her, friendship or any other kind. He simply wanted her gone.

Scooping a handful of water from the rain barrel that was positioned at the corner of the cabin, Gabe attempted to cool himself before entering the door. He did not know Rachel very well, but assumed her behavior would be similar to most women he encountered. As soon as he stepped foot inside she would attack, not allowing him to get in a word, at least that was what he imagined.

Gabe inhaled, his hand hovering over the door handle for a moment before reaching out and pushing it open with a huff. Stepping inside, Gabe quickly glanced around, a look of surprise filling his eyes. Rachel was nowhere to be found. He looked under the table, the butterflies filling his stomach. He had not desired to have an argument with Rachel, but this was so much worse. Losing her was not an option; he could not let Uri down this way.

Confirming she was not in the cabin, Gabe raced to the door. Gripping the frame firmly as he leaned out, he shouted. “Rachel! Rachel!”

Waiting a moment, listening, he heard nothing. Gabe’s stomach began twisting, he feared initially it was one of his auguries, but instead discounted it as nerves. Clearly if something really was wrong, I would have felt it when it happened, right? He tried to convince himself.

Gabe raced to the table. Pushing it aside, he grabbed a small latch that was tucked away on the floor, pulling up to expose the hidden compartment. Inside rested his family sword; a piece he had not laid eyes on since he had hidden it away nearly a year ago. Gabe grasped it tightly in his hands as he rescued it from its dark hole. The sword began to glow a brilliant blue and a warmth rushed over his body. He had forgotten the feeling, the way that when he held the weapon,