by Alex Carter
Ordinarily we would have killed him without a second thought however we still did not have any information on the Guardians. We needed the archaeologist to review the contents of the book and uncover any clues or hints that could lead us to the Guardians. We had asked him nicely and he refused to be sensible. We therefore decided to opt for an alternative method of persuasion.
We asked him to watch a short movie that we had made.
The movie started with a large van driving along an ordinary road. After initially looking unimpressed the archaeologist suddenly became interested as he recognised the location; it was the road that he lived on. The next scene started with an external view of the archaeologist’s house and the footage then took us through the front door and into the kitchen. Sitting around the kitchen table were the archaeologist’s wife and his two grown up daughters. Alongside them were two ‘police officers’. The ‘police officers’ were showing the archaeologist’s family a variety of photographs. All three of the women were visibly upset and crying. One of the ‘police officers’ held up a photo to the camera and as the shot zoomed in it became clear that it was a graphic image of a dismembered dog. The camera zoomed back out and the final shot was of the ‘police officer’ dragging his hand across his neck in a threatening manner whilst shaking his head at the camera. The screen then went black.
We advised the archaeologist that if he did not comply with our demands then next time it would not be his dog that we dismembered. He agreed to help and immediately set about searching the book for references or clues to the identity of the Guardians.
We gave him three days to find something.
By the end of the first day he had found nothing. He also found nothing on the second day. On day three he declared that there was categorically no reference to the Guardians in the book and pleaded with us to release him and his family. We refused and reminded him that his family would suffer the same fate as his dog unless he provided some information on the identity or whereabouts of the Guardians. He returned to his office crestfallen. He had analysed the text on a word by word basis multiple times and simply could not find any references to the identity of the Guardians.
As he sat staring futilely at the open book a mosquito flew past his ear. He attempted to swat it and missed. The mosquito continued to fly around his head and the stress of the situation combined with the intermittent buzzing noise started to drive him insane. He reached into the bottom drawer of his desk and took a novelty fly swatter that his granddaughter had given him as a birthday present. The swatter was the shape of a miniature tennis racket but instead of strings the head had an ultra-violet mesh designed to zap bugs on contact. The archaeologist switched on the swatter. The room was filled with a bright blue light as the ultra-violet head illuminated. The archaeologist held the racket in front of him as he waited for the mosquito to fly past him again. It buzzed his ear again and he flashed the racket round frantically to swat the mosquito. He continued to miss the troublesome bug but suddenly noticed something astonishing. As the ultra-violet light of the swatter passed over the open pages of The Legend of the Albedo Prism it revealed a hidden image. The archaeologist instantly forgot about the mosquito and moved the ultra-violet light back over the book. Beneath the page was a watermark drawing of a creature that he instantly recognised. The image was that of a mythical creature. One that had never been proven to exist. A Phoenix.
Chapter 18
I am brimming with excitement for another day of discovery and adventure as we drive back over the bridge to the Isle of Skye. We are on our way to Portree, the main town on the island, to meet Arty’s friend Angus.
Portree harbour is the perfect image of a quaint fishing port. The quayside is made up of a long row of multi coloured fishermen’s cottages and in front of them is an old fishing trawler. Surrounding the trawler are a myriad of small fishing boats, all bobbing around in the harbour water. The scene is picture-postcard perfect. It feels as though we have been transported back in time. I’m still admiring the view as Arty executes a handbrake-turn. The tyres give off a loud, screeching noise as we skid to a halt alongside the fishing trawler. The entire harbour stops what they are doing and turns to look at us in disgust. I genuinely want the earth to swallow me whole. Arty is oblivious to the upset she has just caused, as usual, and bounds out of the car with youthful enthusiasm. A large fisherman in chest-high orange waders approaches the car.
“I see you’re still driving like a teenager” he says jovially in a strong Scottish accent.
“There isn’t a teenager alive who could park a car as expertly as that” Arty replies with a smile. “It’s lovely to see you Angus” she says as she gives the giant man a hug and kisses him on the cheek.
“It’s always a pleasure to see you Arty” Angus replies as he gives Arty a welcoming hug. “I’m guessing that this is the granddaughter that you are always talking about”
“Yes, this is Angel” Arty says as she gestures for me to join them. “Angel, this is Angus.”
I nod my head to say hello however before I know it, I am enveloped in a giant welcoming bear hug.
“No need to be shy with me lassie” Angus says as he releases me and pats the top of my head.
I smile politely in response. There is a strong smell of fish coming from Angus’s waders and I’m pretty sure that the nasty fishy smell has rubbed off on me during the hug. I give my top a discrete sniff.
“So, what business do you have over on Rona?” Angus asks as we walk towards the fishing trawler.
“Angel wants to visit some places that represent real Scotland whilst she is staying with me. I thought I would start by taking her to a place that very few people have ever been to” Arty says.
“Well Rona certainly fits that bill. Of course, the reason that nobody goes there is because there’s very little to see and nothing to do!” Angus replies as he breaks into a booming laugh.
“Is there anything to see?” I ask.
“Let me think…. There’s the lighthouse, the Church Cave, the remains of a 14th century chapel where a Danish Princess is rumoured to be buried and a few holiday cottages” Angus says with a thoughtful look on his face. “Yep, I think that’s about it.”
“Does anybody live there?” I ask.
“The island was populated a long time ago, but I think the last of the locals left some time before the Second World War. After that the lighthouse keeper was the only permanent resident but he left in 1975 when an automated system was installed in the lighthouse. They built a Lodge and a handful of holiday cottages a few years ago, to try to promote tourism. I think that the couple who manage the holiday cottages live part-time in the lodge, during the holiday season. We take holidaymakers over there during the summer but apart from that it’s mostly resident to birds, seals and a few deer” Angus replies. “Anyway, I think we should probably get going. It looks like the weather is closing in and it can get a wee bit rough between here and Rona.”
“Let’s go then!” Arty says enthusiastically and we all head off towards the boat.
As soon as we set off from Portree Harbour an icy wind blows up and heavy rain sweeps in. Angus was right about the changing conditions although ‘a wee bit rough’ doesn’t feel like the correct description as I watch the water thrash against the side of the boat. A sea fog closes in and within seconds visibility is reduced to virtually nothing. It feels like we are in a scene from Moby Dick as the boat is thrown around by the massive waves and lurches up and down. The cold damp mist that has enveloped us gives me the shivers. My stomach feels like we’re riding a roller coaster as the boat bounces up and down on the undulating water.
“Chew on this Angel” Angus says as he hands me a squishy dark orange cube.
“What is it? I ask.
“Crystallised ginger. I make it myself. It’ll settle your stomach” Angus replies.
I pop the small chunk into my mouth. The sweet powerful flavour certainly takes my mind off the churning water and my churning stom
ach.
“Land Ho!” Arty shouts as the sea fog subsides and the Isle of Rona appears in front of us. The whole island looks slightly unreal and magical as we sail towards it. Angus steers us into what is called ‘Big Harbour’ but in reality, looks tiny. Angus casts a lasso over one of the bollards on the small quayside and pulls the boat into the jetty.
“Welcome to the Isle of Rona ladies” Angus says as he cuts the engine.
Arty and I both give a mini cheer as we grab our gear and climb onto the jetty. It feels great to get off the boat and back onto solid ground, although my legs still feel as though we are on the water.
“It’ll take you a few minutes to find your land legs again” Angus says as he notices me swaying around on the jetty. “How long do you want to stay here Arty?”
“I imagine that four hours will be long enough” Arty says as she pulls her backpack on.
“Four hours?” Angus says with a frown. “Are you sure? The forecast isn’t looking too good. There might be a storm on the way.”
“Yes, we’ll be fine.”
“Take this, just in case” Angus says as he throws a large yellow bag onto the jetty alongside me.
“What is it?” Arty asks.
“A tent and a few other essentials” Angus says as he turns the wheel and the boat turns back out to sea. “If the storm does move in then I won’t be able to come back to collect you today.”
There is a strong stench of fish coming from the Angus’s yellow bag and the thought of camping in a fishy tent on a deserted island in the middle of a storm makes me feel sick.
We stand and watch as the fishing trawler heads back towards Skye. Angus waves goodbye without turning around. We wave back, even though we know he can’t see us.
Chapter 19
The archaeologist uncovered images of seven different creatures hidden in the pages of The Legend of the Albedo Prism. He explained that all seven of these creatures were mythical and derived from human folklore. It was obvious to us that the seven mythical creatures depicted in the book relate to the seven Guardians of the Light. We instructed the archaeologist to investigate whether there were any historical sightings of these creatures.
The archaeologist set about researching all seven of the mythical beasts he had uncovered in the book. There were many ancient stories about humans encountering strange beasts and winged creatures. The overwhelming majority of these stories were pure fiction however he undertook painstaking analysis of every single rumoured sighting. He plotted them both geographically and by the type of creature that the witness claimed to have seen. The first correlation that he found was that most of the sightings had taken place on the mountain sides.
We instructed the archaeologist to focus his attention on reports and sightings within the past fifty years. The number of modern sightings were far fewer. There were a handful of reports however one case caught his attention. A climber claimed to have seen a Phoenix whilst attempting to climb Pica Cristobal Colon in Columbia. The man had been climbing with a Guide when they got caught in a blizzard and got into difficulty. The Guide advised the man that the conditions were so bad that they needed to turn back. As they began making their way back, they crossed a frozen section and the ice beneath the Guide collapsed. He instantly disappeared as he dropped down vertically into a deep chasm. The climber was some way behind the Guide and rushed to see if he had survived the fall. Visibility was poor, due to the conditions, but even through the snow the chasm looked far too deep for the Guide to have survived. The man considered attempting a rescue however the sides of the chasm were sheer and it was too deep to be able to climb into safely. He decided to continue down the mountain and to raise the alarm once he was back at the Base Camp.
As the man slowly made his way down the mountain a giant red bird suddenly appeared directly above him. This bird was like nothing he had ever seen before. It was larger than a fully-grown man, had enormous feathered wings, a magnificent long tail and most remarkably of all it was glowing bright red. The man stood staring at the massive bird in amazement. He had never seen a bird like this before but instantly recognised it as a Phoenix. The Phoenix hovered in the air silently for a moment before flying off at great speed towards the bottom of the mountain.
The man was utterly shocked but continued his journey to the foot of the mountain. As soon as he reached Base Camp, he went to raise help. As he did so he stopped dead in his tracks as he came across his Guide, who was laughing and joking with another climber. The Guide was completely unharmed and appeared to be in good spirits. The man couldn’t believe that the Guide had survived the fall into the chasm without incurring any injuries and asked what had happened. The Guide explained that he had fallen all the way to the bottom of the chasm and landed flat on his back. His backpack absorbed the impact from the fall and remarkably he had escaped without any harm. He had then found an opening at the bottom of the chasm which had led directly to the bottom of the mountain. The man was flabbergasted, as he was sure that the Guide had died, but was delighted to see him safely back in one piece. The man told the Guide about his encounter with the Phoenix and asked if he had also seen the amazing bird. The Guide claimed not to have seen or heard anything.
News of the Phoenix sighting spread rapidly. Reports appeared in the local press and the story soon appeared all over the world. People came to the area to see where the Phoenix had been spotted and multiple hoax sightings were soon reported. The climber was famous for a short time. However, as no evidence of the Phoenix was found and without any corroboration from the Guide the man was later labelled as a fantasist.
This story was the best potential lead that the archaeologist found. There was no tangible evidence, but The Legend of the Albedo Prism included images of a Phoenix, so it was worth investigating whether there was a link. If there was any truth in the sighting of the Phoenix it could be linked to one of the Guardians of the Light. This was the first possible lead that we had on the location of the Guardians.
We sent one of our Hunters to Columbia to investigate.
Chapter 20
“What shall we do with this tent that Angus gave us?” I ask as I inspect the large yellow canvas bag lying on the floor. The stench is much stronger close-up and I gag involuntarily as I accidentally inhale the fishy aroma. Arty doesn’t reply and as I look up, I see she is already halfway up the hillside.
I abandon the fishy tent and run after her.
“What shall we do about Angus’s tent?” I shout as I try to catch her up.
“There’s no point carrying that stinky old thing around with us” Arty shouts back without turning around or breaking stride. “You’re not in London now Angel; it’ll still be lying there later if we need it.”
“It’s exciting being dropped onto a remote island for the next part of our adventure” I say as I finally catch Arty up.
“Yes, I suppose it is” Arty replies. “I just hope that Angus is wrong about that storm and we don’t have to spend the night in his pongy old tent.”
“Me too” I reply as I sniff the parts of my hands that touched the tent. They smell horrible. “Where are we heading?”
“Angus mentioned that the couple who manage the holiday cottages live on the island full time during the summer. I’m hoping they might be able to give us a clue as to where we should start looking” Arty says as she continues marching at top speed.
“What is it that we are looking for?” I ask.
“I have absolutely no idea” Arty replies with a grin.
“Are you sure we’re going the right way?” I ask.
“On this island there is only one place to land a boat and one path dear. The only place that anybody needs to go to these days is the Lodge where the couple live, so putting two and two together I would say that this is the right way” Arty says as we continue striding along the path.
Fifteen minutes later a small building comes into view. We make a beeline for it and a few minutes later arrive at the Lodge. Arty gives the fron
t door a hefty knock. We stand waiting for a while until we eventually hear some movement from within the building. A man wearing a suit opens the door.
“Hello” Arty says in her customary friendly manner. “Do you live here?”
We have just travelled an hour by boat to a remote island, followed a single path to the only house for miles around and the first thing Arty asks the guy is if he lives here. I burst out laughing at the absurdity of her question.
“Yes” the man replies with a puzzled frown. He’s clearly not used to unexpected visitors. “How can I help you?”
I have no clue what Arty is going to ask the guy and from the look on her face it appears that she has no idea either.
“Well, erm, yes, I hope so” Arty mutters as she struggles to phrase her question. “I don’t suppose you’ve ever heard of the Blackout Comet, have you?” She says with an inquisitive look on her face.
“The what?”
“The Blackout Comet?”
The man looks even more puzzled than before as he continues to stare blankly at Arty.
“It’s a Comet that is rumoured to orbit the earth every two hundred years” Arty continues. I can see from the expression on her face that she is trying to encourage the man to speak.
He continues to look at her blankly.
“It causes a global solar eclipse; hence the name” Arty says, slightly less enthusiastically.
“No. I can’t say I have heard of it” the man replies with a shake of his head. “Why? Is there something urgent that I need to know about it?”
I chuckle to myself. A few moments ago, this man was going about his everyday business on his uninhabited isolated island. The next thing he knows there is a knock on the door and a crazy old woman is now asking him if he has ever heard of the Blackout Comet.
