Giselle stopped before the plinth and looked from side to side. "Join me," she said. Shadow fingers wrapped around her arms and then she reached out, placing her hand on top of the sphere.
Light flashed and a scream tore through the world. It was all Shoftiel could do to keep from dropping to his knees. He felt Giselle tremble and wobble, and he slid his arms around her to keep her upright. Her head lolled forward. Magic crackled over her skin, lighting her on fire. Shoftiel felt her heart stutter as she whimpered.
Without thinking, he pulled her tighter to him, encircling her in his aura. The fierce magic jumped into him. It burrowed, trying to pull him apart. He fought it, burning it out and shearing off the tentacles that returned. His power melded with Giselle's and together they pushed it back, putting up a wall between them and the invasion.
Abruptly the attack stopped.
"Who are you?" The voice chimed like a bell, reverberating through their bodies and sending spiderweb cracks across their shield. As one, they reinforced it.
"A witch. An angel. Your wardens."
"You were not invited."
The condemning words hit his heart, squeezing it in a deadly grip. Shoftiel's arms tightened on Giselle as he spread his wings. Could he get her away? Fly her to safety? He told himself it was because of the binding, because he didn't want to go back to the Mistlands. It was true, but he feared she might have infected him with her peculiar brand of honor, one that put sacrifice above self-preservation. It seemed he didn't want her dead.
"You must hear me," Giselle said, her body shuddering, blood trickling from her nose and ears.
"What do you want?"
"Your imprisonment ended the Guardian war against the humans," Giselle said. "The truce has been celebrated by magic-kin and humans alike. No one wants the return of the war, except maybe the other Guardians."
Other?
Her statement was met with silence. Eventually the voice spoke again. "This is true."
"You are dying," Giselle said baldly.
Another silence. "This may also be true. I am growing different."
"If you die, the world will burn as the other Guardians take revenge."
Another considering silence. "It is likely."
"The same will happen if you are freed."
The light around them shimmered and turned a shell pink. A figure emerged. She was slight and small, perhaps four feet tall. Her form blurred and shifted, then concentrated together to solidify, then shifted again, much in the same way Shoftiel's wings did.
She was lovely, but not human. She was like nothing he'd seen before. One moment she looked like a woman. Then a bear, an eagle, a praying mantis--it was like she was everything and nothing. A Guardian.
Shoftiel felt a mix of awe, fear, and anger. The Guardians had much to answer for, both good and bad. But to imprison one--that was pure evil. "How did they capture you?"
She smiled and melted into a silver-winged moth. "I came because I was needed."
"You're not a prisoner," Giselle said, and shook her head. "I am supposed to steal you from yourself," she said. "The universe has a rotten sense of humor, doesn't it?"
"I hoped my sisters and brothers would decide they'd done enough," the Guardian said. "War hurts those we wanted to save and protect the most. But the others have not changed. I cannot leave."
"You can't stay," Giselle said. "I've seen what happens. It will make war look like a kid's ice-cream party."
"I must stay."
"Oh, for fuck's sake. You guys are all alike. You, too," she said, casting a disparaging look over her shoulder at Shoftiel. "You all know better than anyone else. You never make mistakes, except when you do. The rest of us aren't idiots, you know. Sure, we make mistakes and we're going to make a fuckton more. But that's our problem, not yours. Your problem is that you need to back off and keep your superiority to yourselves. You need to go home and leave us the fuck alone."
Shoftiel growled and suddenly the labradorite binding fell from his wrist. He was free. Despite his shock, he wasn't so befuddled that he lost contact with Giselle when she lunged forward and grabbed the Guardian by the ankle.
The world went nova. Shoftiel held tight to Giselle as reality shattered and every molecule in his body separated from the rest. He shielded himself, extending the spell to hold Giselle and the Guardian. Not that the latter needed it, but he couldn't close the spell around Giselle without cutting the Guardian's leg off.
Guardians were elementals of the universe, physical expressions of the creation magic that had formed the worlds and everything on them. They were shepherds and police. They couldn't die, and he wasn't sure he actually could cut off her leg, but there was a fragility to her that he didn't want to test.