Seventeen-year-old Alisha Howard is having a rough day. Sheâs had to rescue her headstrong little brother from getting eaten by a monster from another dimension, her mom has put her on dish duty as punishment for bringing her sword to the table (again), and her lifelong enemy, snarky rich girl Belladonna, is starting to look like both a real human being and someone Alisha would like to kiss. To make matters worse, it looks like the world is about to end.
Alisha is a Guardian, a sworn protector of life on Earth, but is she up to the task of saving the world?
Seventeen-year-old Alisha Howard is having a rough day. Sheâs had to rescue her headstrong little brother from getting eaten by a monster from another dimension, her mom has put her on dish duty as punishment for bringing her sword to the table (again), and her lifelong enemy, snarky rich girl Belladonna, is starting to look like both a real human being and someone Alisha would like to kiss. To make matters worse, it looks like the world is about to end.
Alisha is a Guardian, a sworn protector of life on Earth, but is she up to the task of saving the world?
My brother Jake lay unconscious on the cave floor, his favorite denim jacket torn in three places and his cell phone a cracked mess of plastic on the ground. If we actually survived this, he was going to be pissed.
âAll right, look,â I said, giving the giant snarling insect monster my serious face. âI know I donât look like much, but you should know I am fully capable of kicking your big buggy butt straight back to where it came from, not only for hurting my brother, but for whatever unholy reign of terror youâve got planned here.â
The monster was nine feet tall, jet-black, and scaly, with hundreds of spindly legs, like a centipede on steroids. Savage mandibles gleamed in the light from the cave mouth, and I tightened my grip on my sword hilt. And because times of stress often led me to incredible feats of word vomit, I kept talking.
âI mean, letâs face it: guys like you donât generally show up in our world without some kind of nasty plan for world domination, so I think itâs pretty safe to say youâre up to no good. So are you gonna go peacefully, or do I have to start shoving my boot up random orifices until we find the one that hurts the most?â
The centipede monster reared back, its legs fanning out, its mandibles openingâ
And then it tilted its scaly head to the side as if regarding me in puzzlement. âYou speak great volumes but say very little,â it said in a thin, whistling voice.
Which, okay, was fair. Iâd always had a tendency to babble, particularly when I was in imminent danger of being devoured by the Godzilla of centipedes. Generally, the centipede didnât take the time to inform me of it though.
âI do not wish any harm upon you,â it continued, deviating even further from the Evil Monster Intent on Taking Over the Earth speech. âNor any human. I came here only wishing to be left alone, but your companionââ It swung its head toward Jake. ââattempted to steal one of my children, at which point I was forced to defend them. I have not seriously harmed him, only caused him to lose consciousness to neutralize him as a threat.â
âHe tried to steal one of your kids?â That didnât sound like Jake.
The centipede-thing tilted its head toward the other end of the cave, where I could just make out the glittering of a number of round, pearly, head-sized spheres. Eggs? They looked like the kind of pretty, decorative objects people would pay a lot of money for, bringing them much more firmly into the realm of things Jake would totally try to steal.
I sighed and slid my sword into its sheath. The magic triggered the instant I did, and sword and sheath shrank to being a decorative golden clasp on my belt. âI apologize for my companionâs rash actions,â I said, bowing my head slightly like we were supposed to do in these situations. âIf youâd allow me to remove him from here, I swear to you that heâll never come near you or your children again.â
The centipede bowed its head too, its pincers snapping and clicking together in a way that I tried not to be too creeped out by. âThat would be acceptable. I thank you, Guardian.â
I blinked. âHowâd you know Iâm a Guardian?â
âWell, for one thing, the sword.â
âAh.â
âBut even had you come unarmed, I would have known. You wear your status like a cloak. It seeps from every ounce of your being, every word and action. Though you look a frail female thing, there is power in you.â
âFrail female thing,â I said in a flat voice and decided not to be offended. If the worst thing a giant centipede monster had to throw at me was sexism, I could probably count myself lucky. âYeah, well, guess Iâd better get Jakeâerr, my companionâout of your hair before he wakes up and starts trying to make off with your kids again.â
I started forward, hoping the centipede monster would move out of the way, but it stayed where it was, its black eyes glittering in the dimness.
âYou have shown me respect and kindness, and so I shall do something for you in return. My species have a unique ability that appears only between laying our eggs and the birth of our children.â
âOh, yeah? What kind of ability?â
âThe ability to glimpse the future. It allows us to provide extra protection to our young when they are unable to protect themselves, for instance if a young human is attempting to steal one of them.â
âFor instance,â I said dryly.
âSomething lurks on the horizon, Guardian. An age of darkness and danger is coming to you and those like you.â
I frowned. âTo the Guardians, you mean?â
âTo all beings of your world.â
âWhat kind of danger?â
Its legs rippled, and it dropped down onto them and made its undulating way over to the row of eggs. Its last word hissed through the cave, seeming to echo louder and louder in my ears: âExtinction.â
I suddenly felt very, very tired. âAgain?â
*
The second Iâd dragged Jake out of the cave, I pulled out my phone and sent a quick message to Lettie at Guardians HQ. Iâd hoped for some acknowledgement of the fact that I was actually following procedure for once and reporting a creature encounter right after it happened, but all I got in return was Lettieâs usual businesslike âUnderstood. Tagging team is on its way.â
Which really should not be a personâs reaction to a text reading: âGiant centipede monster in cave at these coordinates.â But since Lettieâs whole job was taking in reports from Guardians on whatever dimension-crossing creatures weâd found creeping into the world, I figured shock wasnât an emotion she did anymore. Giant centipede monster? Okay. Sentient mushrooms have infiltrated the farmerâs market? Sure. Those dark clouds rolling in are actually mist creatures trying to blot out the sun and destroy all life on Earth? Why not?
I had a moment of wondering if I should mention the centipedeâs weird prediction to Lettie, but in the end, I decided against it. Whatever my scaly new friend might say about the clairvoyant powers of its species, the truth was that the end of the world was always being predicted somewhere by someone, and none of them had been right yet. It seemed pretty unlikely that a nine-foot centipede hiding out in a cave in Western Pennsylvania would turn out to be the true prophet of the end times.
Jake woke up when we were halfway to the edge of the woods. Iâd been dragging him along behind me, and despite the fact that Guardian training kept me in pretty decent shape, it was still no easy task hauling my unconscious, not-so-little little brother across the forest floor. It was late September, but the weather still clung stubbornly to warmer temps, and I was definitely sweating under my T-shirt and light jacket. I kind of hoped Jake felt every rock from the dark depths of unconsciousness. And maybe he could, because one minute he was a 145 pound rag doll, and the next he was fighting his way out of my grasp and letting out an inventive string of curses.
âWhat happened?â he said after heâd run out of swear words. He sat on the leaf-strewn ground, one hand pressed to his head.
âOh, I donât know. Maybe you tried to steal a giant bug monsterâs eggs and it almost killed you?â
He winced and scrubbed his hand over his eyes as if to block out the memories. âDamn, those things were eggs? No wonder it was so ticked off.â
I shook my head and gave him my best older sister glare.
Jake Howard, sixteen years old to my seventeen, was currently wearing a tattered denim jacket, baggy T-shirt, and jeans. Like me, he had Momâs dark-brown skin and Dadâs big, curved nose, but while my hair sprouted outward and upward in a voluminous pouf, his was cropped closer to his head in loose black curls. Where I was tall and long limbed, Jake was solid and compact, four inches shorter than me and about ten pounds heavier.
And while I had made a sacred vow to protect the world from whatever evil crept in from the fringes of the dark dimensions, heâd apparently made a vow to be as big a pain in my ass as possible.
âOkay, look,â I said, dropping down onto the dirt next to him. âIâm not Mom. Iâm not going to give you a lecture. But this was pretty nuts, even for you. Whatâs going on with you lately?â
He glared at the ground. âNothing.â
âVery convincing,â I said. âCome on, seriously. Talk to me.â
He scowled at the dirt for a few more seconds, then sighed. âItâs Guinevere.â
âGwen? What about her?â
âI thoughtâŚâ
âYeah?â
There was a long pause, and then the words rushed out. âI thought sheâd like it. One of those glowy globe things.â
âOne of the eggs, you mean?â
âYeah.â
I tried not to laugh, as that probably would not have been well-received by my grouchy, love-struck little brother. âWell,â I said, âthat was a nice thought. And I bet sheâd have really appreciated that. You know, until the egg hatched into a baby centipede monster and tried to eat her face.â
âI know. I know!â Jake slammed his fist into his thigh. âI get it, okay? I screwed up. Iâm a loser, just like Mom and Dad are always saying.â
âTheyâve never said that.â
âMaybe not, but I bet theyâre thinking it. I mean, jeez, Alisha, youâre out there saving the freaking world, Aggieâs getting straight As at college, and what am I? Just some freakishly handsome loser with no girlfriend and no life.â
My lips twitched upward. âI was wondering how long itâd be before you mentioned how handsome you were.â
He managed a slight grin. âI can only hold it back for so long.â
âLook,â I said. âYou know damn well that youâre an awesome guy. And while you might not have Gwen as your girlfriend, half the school is in love with you. Itâs disgusting.â
This time, the grin was nearly full wattage. âIt is disgusting, isnât it?â
âHorribly, vilely disgusting.â I patted his shoulder and got to my feet. âNow, if youâre feeling better, can we get out of these woods and get back home? Momâll kill us if weâre late for dinner. Aggieâs girlfriendâs coming over, remember?â
âOh, man, is that tonight?â He searched his wrist for the watch he wasnât wearing. âWhat time is it?â
âAlmost five now.â
âCrap.â
We hustled through the trees and managed to skid in through the front door of our little white house just as Mom was setting the table. She looked up when we entered the dining room, and she was smilingâprobably in deference to Aggieâs girlfriend, who didnât yet know this woman was capable of Old Testament levels of wrathâbut I could see the rage simmering in her eyes.
âJust in time,â Mom said. She arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at us. âJust.â
Mom was beautiful, with smooth dark skin, big brown eyes, and high cheekbones. Her hair was buzzed close to her head, both for style and so it didnât get into whatever she was painting. She wore her silver hoop earrings, a silky patterned shawl, and her favorite black dress with chunky heels. Fun but formal and showing off that whole innate sense of style that had absolutely not passed on to me.
Evidence: while Mom looked ready for the runway, I was wearing scuffed sneakers, jeans, a black Return of the Jedi T-shirt, and my favorite worn brown jacket. I far preferred them to any fancier duds, but it did sometimes make me wonder how sure we were that Mom and I were actually related.
âSorry weâre late,â I said. âWe lost track of time.â
âAlmost late,â Jake said, apparently not sensing his extreme danger in saying this. âItâs five twenty-nine. Weâve got a whole minute to spare.â
Mom gave us a sweet smile laced with poison. âOf course. A minute is more than enough time for you to get cleaned up, changed, and back down here in time for dinner, isnât it?â
Yep, she was pissed.
âAnd Alisha, what have I said about bringing that to the table?â
Out of sheer habit, Iâd deactivated the magic of the sword clip the second I got into the house, and thus sword and sheath were now both eminently visible hanging from my belt. âWhoops.â
âPut it away.â She threw a meaningful glance toward the living room, where I could hear laughter and voicesâDad, Aggie, and Aggieâs girlfriend, I assumed. âAnd Jake, take off that torn-up old jacket and put on something fit for company. Weâll talk about this later.â
Jake and I exchanged wincing glances, but in the end, there was nothing for us to do but obey our mother. Sometimes, no matter how old you were or how many dimension-hopping hell-beasts youâd booted off the planet, that was all you could do.
*
Our older sister, Agnes, despite having been my first instructor in the ages-old art of sarcasm, was also one of the nicest people in existence, fully ready to do anything for the people around her. As such, she tended to attract two kinds of peopleâjerks who wanted to take advantage of her, and other poor souls who were as tragically, helplessly nice as she was.
Thankfully, Mabel seemed to be one of the latter. She was plump, half-Pakistani, and absolutely adorable, with a cute, upturned nose and freckles. And for all that she was having dinner with her girlfriendâs weird family, she was smiling and laughing and managing to make charming small talk like a pro. And not once had she dropped her fork or spilled gravy all over the place, which I definitely wouldâve done in her position.
âSo,â Mom said in the honeyed voice she reserved for company, âyou two met in art class, then?â
âWe got paired together for portrait drawing,â Mabel said with a grin at Aggie.
Aggie returned the grin with interest. âYeah, at which point we discovered that we both have old-lady names. It was the first thing we bonded over.â
Dad let out a guffaw and choked on his potatoes, while Momâs smile went frigid.
âAgnes was your great grandmotherâs name, as you well know. Your father and I decided to honor her memory by giving you her name.â
âHey, donât drag me into this,â Dad said, using his napkin to wipe some potatoes out of his sandy mustache. âI wanted to name her Sarah Jane.â
Mom rolled her eyes. âHonestly, Barry, wanting to name your daughter after some character in a bad sci-fi show.â
Dad and I both bristled, as the word âbadâ should never tread within a hundred yards of Doctor Who.
âNow, listen,â Dad began, but Aggie, with her usual flair for peacekeeping, cut in before he could continue.
âMom, you know I love my name. Great Grandma Agnes was a great lady, and I love that I get to carry on her spirit with my name.â She reached over to cover Mabelâs hand with her own. âAnyway, if you hadnât named me Agnes, Mabel and I might never have gotten together, so that just makes me love it even more.â
The two of them shared a sappyâbut adorableâsmile, and the tension at the table evaporated.
âWell,â Mom said, and her smile actually seemed genuine this time, âmore potatoes, anyone?â
High school is already bad enough without adding in body-snatching aliens, a job as a defender of a whole planet, and partner at said job that's the "it" girl you love to hate. A very solid young adult fantasy, Guardians hits many of the tropes of the genre with enough unique elements to keep things interesting. If nothing else, the world building alone helps elevate this novel above many I've read in the same field. And the organization whose name is shared with the title goes a long way toward helping that.
The main character's voice and personality from the very first pages drew me to read this title in the first place. The banter, both with others and within her own head, were some of the highest points of the novel. That humor and the familial relationships many of the characters share help keep the darker elements and plot in a great balance. Once I started reading, it was hard to put down because the author did a great job of making me care about the fictional people in his novel. Despite the fantastical, they felt real with distinct personalities and motivations. Even the enemy is fleshed out despite not actually having flesh of their own.
Only one thing really held me back from giving this a "must read." Plots often remind me of a line of dominoes. Multiple, criss-crossing lines. You have the catalyst that starts off the chain reaction, one tile falling after another. Sometimes though, it feels like there's a hidden hand that mysteriously blocks one or skips a domino to strike another down later on. Maybe even a gust of wind to help bridge the gap between one line and the next. Those mysterious benefactors make it hard to suspend disbelief when they show up in a story. Like narrowing the scope to the power of just one limb after showing us the body. There were just a few instances where plot points felt too convenient to me to be realistic.
If you enjoy LGBTQ+ fantasy with a strong cast of characters and a dash of humor to light up the dark, I highly recommend taking Guardians for a read.