The Word Guardians: and the Battle for the Peacekeepers

by Lawrence Yarham

  “Running out for who?” Sam asked, getting himself up off the floor.

  Vickers exasperated gaze fell on Sam and she sighed heavily.

  “Its best if you just stay out of my way!”

  Then, she marched over to the door, opened it and slammed it behind her.

  “Holy crap!” exclaimed Yas, looking at Sam. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” he said, brushing himself down. “I’m okay.”

  “Can she get away with that?” asked Yas, looking at the door anxiously, in case she came back.

  “I think she just did,” said Sam. “Its our word against hers.”

  “You never said she was like that!”

  “No,” said Sam, righting the chair. “That was a first!”

  They both looked at each other for a moment. Yas realised that their hope for help was fading.

  “What are we going to do now?” she asked.

  “Well, I’m bloody moving out, that’s what!” he blurted, making a move for the door.

  “What? Why should you? Its your home!”

  “Yeah well, I’m not staying there,” he said, holding the door for her. “I’m not putting up with that crap.”

  “Where will you go?”

  “I don’t know,” he said honestly, as they turned towards the staff exit at the back of the building. He hadn’t thought that far ahead.

  “Stay at my place,” Yas blurted out, surprising herself.

  “What? No? Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about your parents?”

  “They’ll be fine,” Yas replied, expressing as much certainty as she could. “You could have Akoni’s room.”

  “Wouldn’t that be a bit weird though?” Sam asked, uncertainly.

  “No,” she insisted. “Besides...” she smiled, hinting, “...it will give us somewhere that we can try to create doorways from. We’re not going to let her put us off, right?”

  He smiled back. She was right. He wouldn’t have to worry about Vickers if he was at Yas’s house.

  “That’s settled then,” Yas said, as they started to walk to the staff exit. “I’ll call my parents while we’re at your house.”

  “What?” said Sam, surprised.

  “I’m coming with you,” she said, resolutely. “In case she’s there. I can distract her while you pack.”

  “She won’t be there. She’s never leaves this early.”

  “Well, I’m coming anyway.”

  In a large country mansion, seven people were seated reluctantly around a long table. None of them were talking. It was an awkward wait.

  The room was large, with two sets of French doors opening out onto well manicured grounds at the rear of the property. A fireplace crackled and spat, providing warmth against the cold damp fog that was blowing outside. A howl of a hound drew the attention of those in the room. Outside, the lawns and pathways merged gradually into the pervasive greyness. A large stone water feature, that was missing its focal piece sat at the edge of their view, the landscape fading away beyond it.

  A portal appeared just beyond the end of the table, hiding a door that led to the rest of the house. Two men stepped through. Penn wore his trademark long wool jacket and black leather gloves. The second man, Orfeo, glided eerily around the room.

  “Ladies, gentlemen,” Penn announced, taking his gloves off. The portal disappeared as he sat down at the head of the table. “I felt it prudent that we should meet.”

  He looked at each of them and smiled, creating a heavily pregnant pause.

  “Your planned crusades are having the desired effects,” said a woman in business casual attire, eager to fill the gap.

  “Good, good,” replied Penn generously.

  “Ethereal readers are trapped in the events of Victorian London,” she added.

  “And mystery,” added another.

  “Excellent,” replied Penn, his head cocked to one side. “We are quite literally capturing the imagination, wouldn’t you say?”

  “More and more creatures are patrolling fantasy realms,” indicated one of the others.

  “Science fiction too,” added yet another.

  “Erggh,” Penn said, indicating a snobbish distaste. “I’ve never understood the genre.”

  The man nodded, without commenting further.

  “And what of the peacekeepers?” Penn asked pointedly, looking at Wheeler.

  “We found the Custodian,” Wheeler replied. “As you asked.”

  “Really?” Penn asked. “Because Mr. Sleight’s report indicated otherwise.”

  Wheeler glared at Sleight across the table.

  “I was told I would be contacted for my report. I don’t understand...” he said.

  “No, no,” replied Penn. “Mr. Sleight’s report was quite sufficient. I just wanted to see what your version of the events was?” He smiled, indicating that quite possibly this was a trap.

  “The Custodian tricked us,” explained Wheeler. “She was elusive.”

  “Elusive?” asked Penn.

  “Yes,” added Wheeler resolutely.

  “I understand that there were others who had also been looking for the Custodian,” stated Penn. “A girl?”

  “Yes. A girl and at least one other. The Custodian would not say.”

  “Did you find them?”

  “The creatures closed in on two of them,” replied Wheeler. “But they were able to get away.”

  “Indeed,” said Penn. “All as Mr. Sleight reported.”

  Wheeler was getting irritated.

  “Why team me up with Mr. Blunder, here? We needed subtlety to apprehend them.”

  “No,” Penn smiled cruelly in return. “We just needed to know who we were dealing with.” He left the double meaning of the sentence hanging as he stared at Wheeler long after it was necessary. “We knew the girl was important but, from your report, it seems that she knows more than we had anticipated.”

  “The girl?” Wheeler double-checked.

  “Yes, and in fact, she will come to us,” Penn smiled.

  “How’s that?”

  “We have someone she wants,” Penn continued, watching Wheeler’s expression with interest. “Don’t worry. Another agent will be handling it from here,” he continued. “With subtlety.”

  “And my son?” pressed Wheeler. “The deal was he would be returned.”

  “We are well aware of your concerns for your son, Detective,” Penn said looking up at Orfeo. Orfeo made his way around the table to the side facing the French doors. “Mr. Sleight reported that too.”

  ‘Damn’, thought Wheeler. He started feeling hot and uncomfortable.

  “However,” said Penn, standing up and moving around to Wheeler. “While Sleight alerted us to the matter, his intentions were less than honourable.” He paused. “I don’t appreciate people trying to hold me to ransom for more power.” Penn looked at Sleight pointedly.

  Sleight felt uncomfortable. “What are you playing at?”

  “Don’t worry,” continued Penn, nodding at Orfeo. “It turns out you have provided us with... an opportunity”

  Orfeo placed his thin long hands on Sleight’s shoulders. Sleight tried to wriggle free from his grip but was unable to. Orfeo was able to keep him restrained without much effort.

  “What are you doing?” pleaded Sleight, but he already had part of an answer. There was an intense cold on his shoulders, and he looked down. Where Orfeo had his hands on him, he was starting to turn white, his clothes transforming to show enlarged exposed shoulders. “I did everything you asked!” He tried to grip Orfeo’s hands, but he couldn’t quite manoeuvre his own muscles. He wrestled violently in Orfeo’s grip as the magic took hold. His features were unknitting and transforming into something else.

  “What is happening to me?” he asked urgently, in shock.

  The unknitting was working its way down his body from his shoulders, turning him into a stone statue. A gargoyle. Sleight looked down at himself and then up at Penn.

/>   “Tell me…!” demanded Sleight urgently. The unknitting reached his head and he lost the ability to speak, words turned to faint lisped growls.

  “You see,” continued Penn. “Gargoyles are excellent guards and they lack subtlety. You’ll fit the bill perfectly.”

  Penn nodded to Orfeo again.

  “The entrance hall, don’t you think?” Penn suggested. Orfeo took his hands off the creature’s shoulders and it stood, reluctantly. It walked, stone grinding on stone, its face confused and struggling.

  “The confusion won’t last long,” assured Penn cruelly. “You’ll grow accustomed to your new shape very quickly.”

  “Just one thing, though,” Penn added, looking at Orfeo, as the creature neared the door. “It looks a little too... perfect, don’t you think?”

  Orfeo smiled in reply. He touched the creature on the shoulder, and it stopped, then he walked around in front of it. It tried to move but was being held still by something.

  Orfeo looked the creature up and down. The rest of the room’s occupants watched anxiously. Orfeo moved his hands to the creature’s face. There was a snapping sound, followed by a joint intake of breath by the observers. Then there was another snap.

  Orfeo held out his hand for Sleight to see. In it was part of the creature’s nose and talon. Then he waved his hand ever so slightly and motioned the creature to continue walking. Sleight looked down at the broken off pieces and screamed inside his head. Orfeo looked at Sleight and then dropped them on the floor, grinding them down under his shoe. A shocked silence descended on the room.

  “You may go,” said Penn to the room. “Let these events remind you that there are consequences to your actions, or failures. Our work is important!” The others nodded nervously and stood quickly, creating portals through which they then departed.

  Wheeler also stood, but Penn had stopped him, putting his hand on his shoulder.

  “There is one more thing I need from you,” said Penn.

  “What?” said Wheeler, turning.

  “I need some additional insurance.”

  Wheeler grew angry. “This was never the deal!”

  There was a howl in the distance, and Penn looked out of the window thoughtfully in response.

  “If we had not learnt of your little plan, I would not need to ask.”

  “What plan? There was no plan!” pleaded Wheeler. “I did what you asked. You haven’t kept your side of the bargain!”

  “But I question your loyalty, detective?”

  “It works both ways!”

  “You are not a man who plays poker, are you?”

  “What?”

  “You have no leverage and yet you are trying to bluff your way out of this.”

  “I just want my son back!”

  “You have my word that he is safe and he will be returned once we have the peacekeepers.”

  “Yeah, well, that doesn’t hold much water for me!”

  “Interesting that you should say that.” Penn looked out of the windows again. Wheeler suddenly realised he couldn’t move from the spot. Magic started to flow towards him from Penn’s hand.

  “Don’t pull that crap on me!” he shouted, trying to get free. He felt a tingling sensation start to move through his body.

  “I think you will find it quite refreshing,” Penn replied, nodding to the water fountain. “Besides, I need to keep you out of my way for a while. We wouldn’t want you telling anyone of our plans now would we?”

  “No!” shouted Wheeler, realising what was happening. Penn was transforming his body into a lion. He tried to stay upright but found himself being pulled down onto all fours. Magic still streamed towards him.

  “I think this will work well,” Penn replied calmly, that evil half smile present.

  “You’re crazy!” retorted Wheeler, his last word ending in a roar. He tried to lift one of his paws to hit Penn. Immediately it was pulled down again, Penn laughing as he waved it away.

  “Now then, let’s get you into position.” Penn moved over to the French doors and opened them.

  “What do you mean?” Wheeler tried to ask, but it came out as another roar. Like Sleight earlier, he found himself under the control of the magic. Penn commanded him to walk outside, along the gravel path. Together they walked towards the fountain. Wheeler tried to resist but it was of no use. He found himself taking up position with his front paws on the side of the fountain bowl. Then suddenly he felt very cold, as if something was chilling him from the inside. He started to retch. Part of him felt that this was natural, and another part felt like he was about to be violently sick. He braced himself for whatever was rising inside him. Then water started flowing from his mouth into the bowl. He was powerless to stop it. He looked at Penn, trying to roar but gargling, furious.

  Penn laughed. “You know so little of this magic,” he said. “Yet you challenge it!” He paused. “You amuse me, Detective.”

  Wheeler felt himself commanded to look back to the water. For a time, he forgot who he was, feeling the breeze through his fur and a shaft of sunlight break through the fog and warm his mane. Then when he remembered who he was again, he turned to look back at Penn, but he was gone.

  Yas helped Sam pack and they also quickly searched Sam’s room for anything that looked as though it might be relevant to creating a doorway. After talking more on the way to his house, they had decided that if they could find a route to the mansion, they should take it without involving Vickers.

  Yas had reassured her parents that Sam was only going to stay for a few nights, to give some space between him and Vickers following an argument. With his dad missing, Yas’s mom had insisted that either they or Sam call Vickers so that she at least knew where he was. Sam wasn’t keen, but as he was not yet legally an adult, he agreed to texting. Unsurprisingly, the reply was short, just an ‘Ok,’ but at least they knew she had received it.

  After that, dinner was polite and awkward. Sam was refreshingly the focus of the conversation. Her parents drove the conversation and tried their best to avoid anything to do with the earlier argument and his dad’s disappearance. Yas mused at how many questions they managed to ask about schoolwork and his job at the library.

  Finally, upstairs and with the sound of the television below, they were able to return to the events of the day.

  “I keep thinking back to Vickers,” said Yas, as they sat down on the sofa in the spare room. “Its like she was frustrated. Impatient maybe?”

  “Yeah, well, that’s her problem,” dismissed Sam moodily. “As soon as Dad gets back, I want her gone.”

  “I know,” continued Yas, trying to get past his emotional reaction. “But what I mean is, why do you think she’s like that?”

  “God only knows!” Sam replied, resting his head on the back of the sofa.

  “But she said time was running out,” pressed Yas further. “And then she said that she didn’t have time for this. What could be so important?”

  “There doesn’t have to be a reason if she’s just bat crazy,” he said, turning his head towards her.

  “But she looked frustrated,” she said, turning towards him. “She knows more than she’s letting on. She can’t find a key and she’s worried about how long its taking her.”

  “That’s no excuse though. You saw what she did!” He gestured down the hallway, as if pointing to the library.

  “I know,” Yas agreed, touching him briefly on his leg. “The question is, why? What’s she worried about?”

  “Something to do with my dad?”

  “Yes,” replied Yas, sparking an idea. “I think she was pissed at us because we found the Custodian at Alexandria. I think we got there before her.”

  “So, what would she want with the Custodian?” asked Sam, seeing some merit in her argument.

  “Maybe the same thing that they were after in London? And Alexandria?” Yas suggested. “It could explain all her research and books all over your house. Maybe she was trying to get there, and we beat her to it.”
/>
  “So, she’s not really interested in saving my dad then?” he reasoned. “Maybe she just wants to get to the Custodian of that private library she mentioned, and she’s worried that my dad blew her chance?”

  “Maybe?” said Yas. “I’m sorry. Maybe she wasn’t looking for your dad after all?”

  “No, its okay,” he said. “It makes more sense.” He paused. “So, its down to us then. We need to find a doorway?”

  “Yes,” nodded Yas.

  They sat quietly for a moment, letting the realisation sink in that there was no other help available.

  “Any ideas?” Yas asked finally.

  “No,” said Sam, looking a little deflated. “I’ve been wracking my brains to try to think of something my dad had said that could be relevant, but I can’t think of anything.” He looked out of the window. “What about your grandfather?”

  “Yeah,” replied Yas. “Why is that everyone seems to know about him, but me?”

  “I don’t,” said Sam nonchalantly. “What did he do?”

  “I’m not sure.” It was Yas’s turn to look deflated. “Up until recently, all my parents would tell me was that he was involved in stealing parts of stories. Some sort of copyright theft or conspiracy, or something,” she said.

  “Oh,” he said, looking down.

  “Then he disappeared, and we’d heard nothing for so long. Then, out of the blue on Saturday, McVale mentioned a book, a gift from him, and she hinted that they’d travelled in realms together. Suddenly, its like everyone knows something. The Great Oak. Vickers. The thing is, it was two years ago. I don’t remember him telling me anything. Ever!”

  Sam looked at her. “What about something he gave you? I have some bits and pieces from my grandparents at home.”

  “Maybe...? Oh...! Its just a box of stuff though,” she shrugged. She got up and headed to her bedroom. Sam followed and stood in the doorway while she searched in her closet.

  “This,” she said, pulling out a shoe sized box. She sat down on the edge of her bed and took off the lid. Sam joined her tentatively. He was a little unsure about being in her room.

  “Its just garbage, really,” she said, removing some items from the box. “I don’t know why I didn’t throw these out before now. I guess I’d just forgotten about them.”