Free Guardians of the Akasha by Celia Stander Page B

her.
    Then there was a small part of her, wishing she could creep back into her little bubble of ignorance and shut the world out. There is a terrible beauty to isolation. You don’t have to accept responsibility for others, or live up to their expectations. You could dip your toe into humanity’s maelstrom from time to time, or sit on the river bank and observe. Keira had convinced herself she wanted to be part of that maelstrom; that she wanted to be a part of something bigger. It must have been a lie, because here she was, thrown head first into the torrent and she felt like she was drowning.
    “We are here,” her aunt announced.
    For the first time, Keira took notice of her environment. The trees opened up to reveal a wide moat glistening like a silver snake, following the curvature of a medieval castle’s boundary wall which rose at least thirty feet into the air.
    The driver slowed down as they drove over a lowered drawbridge held in place by chains, each of its links as thick as Keira’s waist. The chains lead up and disappeared into guard towers on top of the castle’s wall. The car continued on through massive wooden gates, reinforced with iron bars and bolts.
    When she looked back through the rear window, the drawbridge was being pulled up with a rattle and groan from the chains, and the gates closed behind them with a solid thud. The surreal setting brought Victoria’s message home in a way her words couldn’t.
    I am so far out of my league it’s not even funny , Keira thought.
    The car stopped in a big cobblestone courtyard. The driver opened Victoria’s door and Keira slid over the seat to join her aunt and Simone outside. She stood next to the car for a moment and turned in a slow circle, taking in the building surrounding her on all sides.
    She couldn’t begin to guess how old the castle was, but it had that unmistakable weathered look of a fortress that had withstood many centuries. Saw-toothed battlements and evenly spaced guard towers topped the wall, bearing testament to the fact that this castle was built to withstand a war.
    Even in her current state, Keira could admire and appreciate the work of the artists who created this medieval masterpiece.
    The sound of Simone’s low laughter made her turn to the small group a few feet away from the car.
    “You remember Marco?” her aunt asked.
    “Yes, of course.” Keira tried to hide her chagrin at his presence. He was dressed, again, in Levi jeans that hung at just the right spot on his hips, a white shirt unbuttoned to show a hint of tanned skin at his throat and shirtsleeves rolled up to reveal smooth, strong forearms.
    He stepped closer, his eyes flashing blue as he took the hand that she had automatically extended to him. Their skin barely touched when Keira jerked her fingers back and took a firmer grip on her shoulder bag.
    “Well then, let’s go inside,” Victoria commanded.
    Keira followed as Marco led them up the steps of the main castle keep. The tall front door swung open and she had to narrow her eyes as the sun glinted off the brass scales of a dragon set in a panel on the door. For a moment it seemed as if its sinuous form twisted and its huge jaws stretched even wider, then she stepped into the darker interior of the building and she had to blink her eyes a few times to adjust it to the change in light.
    They walked into a great hall. A wide expanse of stone floor was partly covered by rugs woven in rich hues of amber, burgundy, and terracotta. Brown leather couches were arranged at the far side of the hall, in front of a fireplace that took up most of the wall. Thick logs burned and gave off enough heat to warm the cavernous space. All around them, embroidered family crests hung from the high ceiling criss-crossed by a web of black wooden support beams. Keira recognised the Wilde family crest, hanging prominently above the fireplace.
    To their left, a wide staircase curved to the higher levels of the castle, and it was in this