The Word Guardians: and the Twisting Tales

by Lawrence Yarham

  Her dad just looked at her. That was always unnerving, when he said nothing and just stood there bristling. She had no idea what he might do. When she’d observed this in arguments between her dad and Akoni in the past, she’d cowered, feeling afraid. But here and now, she was driven by the need to challenge him.

  “Why do you have this stuff about Akoni?” she asked, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice.

  “You had no right to go looking,” he countered quietly. “It’s confidential.”

  A sense of defiance grew inside Yas. “Where was this taken?” she asked, holding up the picture. She wasn’t ready to be closed down like that.

  “I don’t know,” he replied, flatly. “It’s an old case. I hadn’t looked at it since his disappearance. I hoped it would… answer some questions that still exist.”

  Yas was puzzled. That didn’t explain what seemed to be recent information of Akoni.

  “But you told me you didn’t want this to re-surface the other night. Keep your head down, that’s what you said!”

  “Yes, you do need to keep your head down and no, you don’t understand,” he replied, moving towards her and the table. She felt uncertain and side-stepped, keeping the table in between them, just in case.

  “Tell me, then,” she said, frustration rising.

  The familiar buzzing arose in Yas’s head. She felt sick and dizzy, but she was damned if she was backing down.

  “There are a number of old police cases where the plaintiffs are still seeking a resolution,” her dad explained. “It’s all minor stuff, but given he’s been declared dead, the responsibility for his crimes is coming in our direction. We may have to pick up some of the costs. I can’t be involved in the case, Yas, because of a conflict of interest, but I want to know more.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  He looked at her but didn’t answer.

  Yas thought about the story for a moment. It kind of made sense, from a certain point of view. For a split second she was happy, the buzzing had faded, and everything seemed to make sense. But then she felt the photograph in her hand again. She felt like she was detached from reality in some way, not really present. She stopped and looked down at the picture. It helped anchor her to the here and now. No, the story didn’t make sense. This was a recent photograph, and she knew it. The buzzing became more intense around her again and the irritation returned.

  “This picture was taken recently,” she said, holding it up again.

  “How do you know?” her dad asked.

  “I’ve seen him,” she replied simply, to see what his reaction was.

  She studied his facial expressions. He didn’t seem surprised or concerned. There was no denial or shock as there had been with her mom. It puzzled Yas.

  “He was wearing that same top,” she continued. She watched him. Still nothing. “You don’t seem that surprised?”

  “Where did you meet him?” he asked, taking some steps towards her.

  “In a realm,” Yas replied. The buzzing became more intense. She looked up at her dad. Something hovered behind him, as she had seen for others at the Commissioner’s dinner. There was a shadow or something just out of step, behind him. She stepped away, keeping the table in between them.

  “Dad, do you feel alright?” she asked.

  He picked up the folder from the table and looked at her. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “What’s that buzzing noise?” Yas asked, continuing to back away towards the door.

  “Buzzing noise?” he asked, a show of concern spreading across his face. “It’s not one of your migraines again? Have you been doing too much lately?”

  “Dad!” She held up her hand to cut him off. She was not weak, and she hated it when he expressed this sympathy for her. True, she had experienced migraines when she was younger. She now knew that they were in response to the events that had led to the disappearance of Akoni and her grandpa and the secrets that had never been aired. “It’s not that, okay? I’d know.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, holding out a hand in placation. He moved around the back of the table and back towards her, his body language changing. He softened.

  “You seem a little confused?” he suggested.

  That did it for Yas.

  “I seem confused?” she retorted, raising her voice and backing herself out into the hallway. “You’re not making sense. You say drop it and then you investigate! You seem to know something more and you won’t tell me anything! I want to know, Dad! Now!”

  “I can’t tell you,” he placated. “Not yet.”

  That surprised Yas. It was an admission of something, even if he wouldn’t say.

  “Then when?” she asked, still brimming with irritation.

  “Soon,” he said. “I need to speak with someone first.”

  “Who?” she asked, calming herself a little. “We can help,” she pleaded. “I know people.”

  “Who?” he asked in reply. That shocked Yas and she wasn’t ready to reply. She just stood there with her mouth open.

  “I don’t want you involved,” he said, coming towards her. The buzzing rose in intensity. “You have to understand. You’re still my daughter.” He reached forwards to hug her. She returned the hug but the feeling of discomfort and nausea grew within her.

  “I need to get going for work,” she said, excusing herself and pushing him away. She needed fresh air, and something to eat. She put on her boots, slipped the photo of Akoni into her jeans back pocket and grabbed her bag and her torn leather look jacket. She headed out of the door quickly before her dad could try to stop her.

  She closed the door behind her and took some steps away from the house, then paused. Something about her dad jarred her feelings. She felt uncomfortable. She breathed deeply to try to clear her head. She pulled her jacket around her to keep the cold out.

  “Hey,” called a voice.

  She looked along the road. It was Sam. He had just turned the corner into her street. She was relieved and ran to meet him. They kissed briefly and started walking, holding hands. She glanced back towards her house. She was not sure why, but she felt someone watching her. She wondered if her dad had followed her outside.

  Picking up on her nervous energy, he also looked back towards her house. “What’s up?”

  “I’m not sure,” she replied, honestly. “My dad is acting strangely.”

  “In what way?”

  “He’d left a work folder at home,” replied Yas. “And I sneaked a quick look.”

  “Your dad is acting strangely?” Sam replied, implying that he thought she was the one acting odd. “He’s a lawyer, right? Since when did you become interested in the law?”

  “I’m not,” Yas replied. “He had this,” she said, pulling out the picture of Akoni from her back pocket to show him.

  “See?”

  He didn’t react the way she’d expected.

  “Okay?” he said, not understanding.

  “Don’t you see?” she asked, in surprise. “It’s…” she turned the picture to look at it again, then stopped.

  Sam looked at her. “What?” he asked again.

  “This,” she said, holding the picture out for him to see. “It was Akoni. At night, with someone else. And he was wearing the hoodie that he had on when we met him in the forest.”

  “But now it’s just a picture of two men, in front of a coffee shop. It looks like they are under some sort of surveillance?”

  “I swear it was Akoni,” Yas said again, looking at the picture intensely. Then she looked up at Sam. “I don’t understand any of this.”

  “I don’t either,” replied Sam. “But if you say that was Akoni...”

  “It was,” Yas cut in.

  “I believe you,” he said, turning towards her and putting his arm around her.

  She looked up at him and nodded.

  “Whatever this is, we’ll figure it out, okay?” he reassured her.

  She nodded again, looking into his eyes.
She believed him and felt safe, even when their adventures took them to strange realms and danger. She remembered the rip in the back of her jacket and smiled. It had been torn in Ancient Alexandria when she and Sam had been trying to escape two lions. It was a battle scar of sorts and she was proud of it. It made her realise what was odd back at the house. Being in a battle in an imaginary realm with Sam felt more real and reassuring to her than a brief hug with her dad.

  “Listen,” Yas said finally, as they started walking again. “Do we have time to stop for coffee on the way? I didn’t get a chance to eat breakfast.”

  “Sure,” replied Sam. He knew that was unusual for Yas.

  “After talking with my dad,” explained Yas, “I just had to get out of the house quickly.”

  “Tell me what happened,” he said.

  They picked up their pace a little, heading towards town while Yas described the events of her morning to him.

  In the castle, it was morning. The sun had risen, but fortunately the sun was not directly beaming its light inside. Orfeo moved around the chamber, stopping at individual mirrors, observing scenes. Occasionally he touched a mirror to listen in on events.

  At one such mirror, he pulled on a thread, and it formed itself into a tablet sized mirror in his hand, a single thread remaining that connected it back to the mirror on the wall.

  Orfeo looked down at it. For a moment he could see the reflection of the ceiling, not himself. Then as he smiled, the mirror changed to show a piece of paper. It was blank except for a twisted pair of stalks and flower heads on one side.

  Orfeo looked at it for a moment, then touched the design and moved his finger to create words.

  “Meet me at the Hanging Gardens of Babylon! As soon as you can.”

  Chuckling to himself, he let go of the thread. It flowed from his hand and rejoined the mirror, the mirror’s surface gradually settling back to a steady reflection. Then he moved to another mirror, touched that and pulled his hand away. In response, some of the mirror dropped away from the surface and rolled down onto the ground, splitting into six portions. Then each sprouted upwards, the reflective surfaces giving way to skeletons and human shapes. Once fully formed, Orfeo gave his commands.

  “Find the girl, the detective and Raelinn and bring them to me!” he ordered each pair. “The girl will lead you to the lawyer. I’ll get the boy.”

  The part human, part undead soldiers nodded obediently, then created doorways and stepped through.

  Yas and Sam had made their way into town and had stopped at one of the coffee shops in the square in front of the library and town hall. Yas ordered some toast and they both sipped hot chocolates.

  “Thanks for this,” Yas said gratefully to Sam, who’d paid. “I couldn’t face eating at home after what happened.”

  “Sure,” Sam dismissed, indicating it was no problem. “What do you think is going on with your dad, then?”

  “I really don’t know,” Yas replied, covering her mouth politely with her hand while chewing her food. “When he was being strange about the folder and stuff, there was the same buzzing sensation around him that I felt with the Commissioner and journalist last night.”

  “What do you think it is?” asked Sam. “Eddie said it was like bees or something?” Sam paused while taking a sip of his drink. “I must admit, I didn’t really listen to what he was saying, though.”

  Yas sighed. “You didn’t feel it at all?” she edged. “Not even a little bit?”

  “No,” replied Sam. “Sorry,” he shrugged.

  “Okay,” said Yas, puzzled. She wondered why she and Eddie had sensed it but not him.

  “Do you think your dad is mixed up in something?” asked Sam. “Something serious?”

  “I don’t know,” replied Yas, looking outside and noticing more people than usual gathering in the middle. “The buzzing sound made me feel dizzy, flu-like. Then this morning it seemed to get into my head, convince me that everything was okay when I still had all these questions bouncing around.” She paused and looked outside, trying to make sense of her thoughts. She noticed more and more people heading into the middle of the square.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, taking another bite of her toast. “It’s strange. There’s usually no-one here at this time on a Saturday.”

  “Yeah, I don’t know,” agreed Sam. They watched as two people stopped and unpacked some equipment out of boxes, while others started to gather around them. “Is something happening later on that we don’t know about?”

  They continued watching from the vantage point of their warm, coffee shop window seats.

  Dragging her attention away from the crowd building outside, Yas turned back to Sam.

  “So, what did Janine make of the Commissioner’s fake news last night?” she asked.

  “She was intrigued with what Eddie had said about the Hall of Mirrors,” said Sam quietly, still watching what was happening in the square. “She and Dad met with the Sentinels after we got home. They’ve decided to go and take a look.”

  Yas’s eyes widened.

  “They’re going to try to find Orfeo?”

  Sam nodded and leaned forwards. “The hope is to find out what he’s doing. Get one step ahead, for once.”

  “Or it could be a trap?” stressed Yas

  “Yeah, well,” replied Sam. “They said that the same concern was raised by some of the others too.”

  “We should go with them,” Yas said resolutely. “Help out.”

  “Yeah. I said that to Janine this morning,” Sam said. “They were determined that we sit this one out, though. Until they know more. She said it was a fact-finding mission only and they preferred that we stayed here.”

  “Oh,” said Yas, clearly disappointed. She watched as the two men that had arrived earlier held up megaphones, to address those mingling. She was puzzled. They started to talk but Yas and Sam couldn’t make out what was being said, above the sounds in the coffee shop.

  “Yas,” Sam said, reaching across the table for her free hand. “Like you, I’d rather be doing than not. Janine wondered if we could maybe try to meet with Akoni again?”

  “I guess,” Yas replied, trying to buoy herself up. She was hoping for other clues to follow, rather than having to go and challenge her brother. Given what she’d found this morning, she wasn’t ready to interrogate him yet. She needed to know if there was more to his story than he was letting on.

  She put the last of the toast in her mouth. Given how she felt, it tasted like sawdust now.

  “Besides,” added Sam, seeing that Yas still looked despondent. “I think the buzzing is a clue we can follow up on. Maybe both of us should try to talk with your dad? He might be our best lead?”

  “I don’t know,” said Yas, uncertainly. It was a good idea, but she wondered how her dad would take to Sam asking awkward questions. Her dad wasn’t opening up to her one on one and she was wary about bringing Sam into what was probably a family matter. It felt too early in their relationship to do that. She paused. She realised that, underneath it all, she wanted her dad to like Sam.

  “What is it?” asked Sam, picking up on her energy again.

  Yas finished chewing.

  “No, it’s nothing,” she said. She felt silly for thinking what she had and didn’t want to air it. She wiped her mouth with the napkin.

  “Shall we?” she asked, indicating that they should head to work.

  “Sure,” replied Sam, looking outside the window again. More people were gathering and listening to the two men. “I wonder what’s going on?”

  They opened the door to the coffee shop. As they stepped outside, they were able to hear some of what was being said by the two men. It seemed to be inane dialogue, thanking people for coming and being ready to help.

  “Is it related to the upcoming state governor election maybe?” Yas asked Sam. It didn’t look prepared enough for that, but no other explanation seemed to make sense.

  “I don’t know,” replied Sam. “I didn’t see
anything on the news this morning.”

  “It seems weird. There’s not enough people here for anything too organised, yet too many for coincidence.”

  “I know what you mean,” agreed Sam as they made their way along the raised sidewalk in front of the shops.

  “Can we sneak in around the back?” she wondered aloud.

  “I kind of want to see what’s happening, though,” Sam edged. “Come on.”

  They walked along as casually as they could, while taking glances across to the speakers in the middle.

  “They want to shutdown our social media access,” called one.

  “They want to limit our choice of news,” said the other.

  “They are limiting our freedoms,” added the first.

  There was a muffled jeer from the groups gathered. There were only about twenty people present, but more were arriving as the speakers continued.

  Yas looked at Sam, intrigued.

  “Is this a protest?” she asked.

  “I haven’t a clue,” he replied. “My dad usually has a head’s up on official ones. He didn’t mention this though. It’s strange.”

  The speakers continued calling out to the crowd.

  “Whose to say what news is the right news?” called the first speaker.

  “It should be our choice,” chimed in the second.

  “Our choice!” Called the first, rallying the crowd to join in.

  “Our choice,” agreed some of the crowd, although the level of enthusiasm was dubious.

  “They say there’s a minority that’s poisoning the media outlets,” the first speaker said, pointing at the building behind to indicate that the ‘they’ was the local government. “They want to protect the people.” He looked at the crowd gathered. “We’re the people!” he emphasised.

  “Do we want them to tell us what the right news is?” the second person asked.

  “No!” shouted the group in unison, although with little decisive energy.

  “Whose choice is it?” called the first.