Ratatosk twitched his whiskers. “No,” he glared at Thomas with the face of someone caught in a lie. “I just went for the golden acorn,” he said, “but it might have been predestined to happen! You are connected to the Oracle! You think anybody can find one of its signs? That anyone can have that kind of connection?”
“My gramps is connected too...” Thomas said. “He's also deciphered a sign. Two signs actually.”
“Duh!” Ratatosk hunched his shoulders as if Thomas had proven his point. “What the hell are we waiting for?”
Thomas sighed. “I wouldn't even know where to begin.”
“I'd begin by doing something about your hand there,” Ratatosk pointed at the wasp's sting. “That looks nasty.”
Thomas had already forgotten about the sting. The black veins had resolved into a fractal-like drawing, like something he had seen in computer art, and his brain had decoded the message within them once they had been complete.
“It's actually like a tattoo,” Thomas said. “Each one has a meaning.”
“Do tell, please,” Ratatosk said, centering his gaze on the back of Thomas’s hand.
“This side means Show me,” Thomas said, extending his hand toward Ratatosk. There weren’t any words in the design, but they contained a meaning, and 'Show me' was the most approximate his brain could decipher. After a second he turned up his hand to show the palm where another image had resolved. “And this one means: Friend.”
“Nahh...” Ratatosk smelled the tattoo. “Friend and Show me? Come on.”
“Really,” Thomas said.
“That's it?”
“That's it,” Thomas said. “Nothing more.”
“It doesn't hurt anymore?”
“No.”
“Interesting...” Ratatosk said, sitting back down on the bed.
“So what’s next?” Thomas asked. The squirrel was right; he had all this time. It was better to use it than to wait for it to resolve like Bolswaithe wanted him to do. There was something strange about Bolswaithe, and not only what he had told him about becoming a serial killer. Something else was going on. Thomas felt that Bolswaithe was hiding something from him.
Ratatosk said, “If I were you, I would go looking for a sign.”
Thomas craned his neck.
“Or for your grandfather!” Ratatosk shouted. “From what the talking box told me, this place has eyes everywhere, even up in the air. I'm sure someone has seen him somewhere and you can find out.”
That actually didn't seem like a bad idea. While Gramps always knew where Thomas was, the Guardians’ surveillance had spotted him only a couple of times close to magical flux lines, flux wells, and ruins looking on his own for signs.
“He's bound to be close to a sign,” Ratatosk said as if reading Thomas’s mind. “Two birds with one stone. You check out that he's fine, and you find a sign and steal one from them as he has done to you.”
Now that was a plan to look forward to. If Thomas could steal one of the signs from Gramps they would be even, and with the one in Ethipothala, the Guardians would be ahead in the race again.
A little victory, he thought, looking at the Doctor and making up his mind. He turned away toward the door.
“So?” Ratatosk asked.
Thomas tapped his shoulder, calling on the squirrel to perch on it. “I think I know where we can look for him,” Thomas said and Ratatosk climbed on his shoulder. The squirrel couldn't stop smiling as they left the Medical Ward.
“If the Norns can control time like this, why did they send me back after seven months?” Thomas asked.
“That one I don't know,” the squirrel said. “But knowing them, we are bound to find out sooner than later.”
Precious Time
“You’re moving too fast for even the camera in the wristpadd to detect you,” Bolswaithe told Thomas. “My capabilities are very limited right now.”
“You can interface with the Control Room computers. I’m sure we have been keeping Gramps’s movements under surveillance.”
“Of course we have. He’s been very active. We think he’s deciphered another sign in the city of Quito. About three months ago.”
“That puts him at four while I only have one. He has a big advantage.”
“Three, if the one in Quito was truly a sign,” Bolswaithe said. “Ethipothala Falls is yours; he hasn’t touched it.”
“And how close is he to finding another?”
“We disregarded orders when you went to the Aesir,” Bolswaithe said. “I don’t think we should do it again.”
“Tell me, Bolswaithe,” Thomas said. This compact version of Bolswaithe was beginning to annoy Thomas. It was too careful, too limited, and by its own account it was because it had to simplify or completely stop most of the processes that the humanoid body could do. Thomas couldn’t help but think of this version as the “fake” or “mini” Bolswaithe.“I’ll find out, even if I have to read all the screens in the Control Room,” Thomas said. He knew that the Control Room was the intelligence heart of Guardians Inc. He was sure that a group of techs were gathering surveillance of his grandfather somewhere inside it.
“He’s actually in a town right now,” Bolswaithe gave in. “By the Leman Lake in Switzerland.”
“In a town?”
“Yes, we detected the Oracle’s signature increasing in the area surrounding the city of Versoix, and a dangerous storm developed.”
“Dangerous?” Ratatosk asked. “How dangerous?”
“The temperature dropped to almost 10 degrees Fahrenheit in a matter of minutes, and there are winds of 110 miles per hour. The city is in a state of emergency right now.” Bolswaithe displayed a map of the lake with the weather information. A mini tornado was raging by the side of the town over the lake, its winds striking Versoix’s waterfront head on. “It’s an extreme weather condition—lots of debris in the air and very dangerous,” he finished.
Thomas sensed that Bolswaithe was being an alarmist on purpose. “I move faster than the winds, don’t I?” he asked.
“Yes,” Bolswaithe said.
“Way faster. To me, the debris will be just hanging in the air.”
“But temperature is a constant,” Bolswaithe said.
“We’ll dress warm.”
“Thomas, I'm under strict orders to keep you safe in the Mansion during this transition,” Bolswaithe said.
“So…” Thomas said, “are you coming or not?”
After a couple of seconds, the map of Lake Leman on the wristpadd was replaced with a map of the inside of the Mansion. A green dot appeared in his room and then a red line ran through the Mansion’s corridors as multiple doors needed to be opened. “First get the sub-arctic gear from your closet and then follow this line. We will use the door at the Palais des las Nations in Geneva, then walk to Versoix approximately six miles. It should take about four hours and a half with the present conditions.”
“Isn’t there anything closer?” Thomas wasn’t scared of walking, only of walking through snow and ice.
“The Pillar activity has increased and is interfering with many of the doors systems. The Palais des las Nations is one of our most important and has been upgraded.”
When Thomas left for the Aesir, the door system was still fully active. Only a couple of major and very high-tech systems had been affected by the influx of Magic. The Atomic Clock, the usual thermostat for measuring the way Magic was affecting technology, was still the most accurate thing in the world, even though it had been greatly affected.
“Any major technology breakdowns?” Thomas asked. He hadn’t bothered to check the printed reports Mrs. Pianova had left by his bed. Instead he had devoured Under the Hard Sea, the fifth book about Captain Nemo and the Nautilus. Chronologically the book was set in-between 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea and Mysterious Island. But Jules Verne had written it after Mysterious Island, and it spoke about the adventures of the Nautilus under both the Arctic and the Antarctic Ocean as Captain Nemo searched for the supposed
survivors of Atlantis.
It was an amazing read.
“Fermilab has been having problems ionizing the hydrogen, and without those negative ions its Tevatron cannot function,” Bolswaithe said, bringing back Thomas from his book with his usual high tech words.
“And the Mansion's system?” he asked. He didn't want to know anything else about a “Tevatron.”
“It's beginning to feel the effects. Minor connections outside of Guardians Inc. satellite companies are unstable. We still have all major doors functioning, but at some point they will cease to work too and you already know about the Mansion gate and small towns.”
“But right now it still works, right?” Thomas asked.
“Yes, Thomas,” Bolswaithe said. “Right now it works.”
“Well then, let’s go.”
Versoix
Thomas unzipped the neck of his winter jacket. After walking for three and a half hours he was sweaty, even though the air was cold and the ground was covered with snow.
It had been a strange walk through the Palace of Nations. They hadn't gone to the lower levels where the League of Nations and all the Fauns assembled, but the silence cast an eerie sensation throughout the building. Even the guards, frozen in their posts, seemed more like part of the décor than human beings.
Outside the air was cold, and the sky looked like a surrealistic painting—all the clouds seemed to have been pulled toward a specific point, like foam on a bathtub as it was being drained.
Even at this distance Thomas could see the whirling storm over Versoix.
“It has the same conditions of a hurricane,” Bolswaithe said, “only very localized.”
“How long has it been like that?” Thomas asked. Ratatosk seemed to like the snow and ran toward the nearest tree, waggling his tail as he jumped.
“Just under two hours. We dispatched a Fire Team from the Palace of Nations to the site and they alerted us of Morgan.”
“Is Tony with them?” The only one of his teammates Thomas hadn’t seen yet was Tony. He had checked out Henri, who was perched on his usual column at the entrance of the Mansion.
“No, he’s on another assignment,” Bolswaithe answered. It seemed that Tony had been drafted by one of the Fire Teams and kept away from actions against Morgan and the Azure Guards.
“Where is he again?” Thomas asked, knowing that Bolswaithe would just give him the runaround as he had before.
“On a site in Africa,” Bolswaithe said. “I know you’d like to see him, but we don’t have an active gate close to him for the moment.”
“And how is he?” Thomas asked casually. He sensed Bolswaithe was keeping something from him, but he wasn’t ready to confront him directly about it.
“He’s Tony,” Bolswaithe said. “He’s the same as he was when you left him, maybe gained a little weight.”
“He’s not gone crazy and gained three hundred pounds, has he?”
“Oh, no, just five. Although he doesn’t like to acknowledge it.”
It was a mystery; conversations about Tony were just too casual, too vague for Thomas’s taste. Bolswaithe was definitely hiding something.
The cold wind whipped at his face as he continued walking. It was as if he had stepped into a walk-in fridge. “It got really cold just now,” he said as he closed his jacket.
“We’ve entered the outskirts of the storm. There is a variance of 18 degrees, and it will drop even more as we approach the center.”
“Okay!” Ratatosk came jumping toward Thomas. “Open up!”
Thomas opened his jacket and Ratatosk jumped in. He moved around until he found a comfortable position, and Thomas closed the zipper leaving only Ratatosk’s head peeking out from the jacket.
“You’re really warm,” Thomas said. “And don’t waggle your tail, please.”
“You ticklish, Thomas?” Ratatosk waggled his tail frantically.
“No, but it’s kind of coarse.”
“Pfft! Tell me when we get there.” Ratatosk snuck his head inside the jacket and snuggled into a ball.
Thomas began to see the first snowflakes. They were frozen in mid-air, but they seemed to be moving almost horizontally to the ground. It was like walking through a picture of a blizzard. He walked through them, leaving behind a hole, a void, as he passed through the snow. The snowflakes disintegrated as he touched them. The blizzard was getting thicker and thicker as he approached Versoix. Then, a snowflake landed on his cheek and he felt the touch of ice.
It was hail.
“The winds are picking up water from the lake and turning it into ice,” Bolswaithe said. “It occurs naturally at Versoix and other cities by lakes every couple of years.”
“Is it dangerous?” Thomas asked. He’d been in hailstorms before and knew that some of the droplets hurt when they touched exposed skin.
“It would be if we weren’t faster than them.”
Thomas kept on walking. About ten minutes later he called Ratatosk out. “You might want to see this,” he said. They had approached the streets of Versoix.
“Oh wow…” Ratatosk peered out from the jacket. “You want to walk through that?”
In front of them was a wall of twirling snow and hail so thick Thomas compared it to a milkshake as it twirled in a blender. The wall of a building was peeking out from the storm. Icicles as thick as a forearm had formed horizontally in the corner.
“We can still go back,” Bolswaithe said.
“Let me try first,” Thomas said as he approached the wall of ice. The snow under his feet had increased its thickness, the layers of ice cracking with each step he took.
He pushed on the wall expecting it to be firm, but his hand went effortlessly through the hail and snowflakes.
“Do you know what’s on the other side?” Thomas asked Bolswaithe.
“If it is anything like the hurricane it resembles from orbit, it has an eye at the center. This is the eye wall, the most dangerous zone.”
“How thick is it?”
“Maybe a couple of hundred feet.”
Thomas drew in a deep breath and walked in.
It was like walking through cereal. His hands pushed aside the hail and snowflakes, and the air became cold and humid. A couple of times he breathed in snowflakes through his mouth and his clothing became covered with ice. Cold sweat ran down his face, chest, and back. It was becoming harder to go through as the snow under his feet became a sheet of ice and the ground took on a downward angle.
The only sounds in the storm were that of his breath and movements. Suddenly, he hit something and a sharp pain ran through his right hand.
His glove was perforated and blood stained his palm from a small cut. Thomas stopped moving to check his hand.
“Probably glass,” Bolswaithe said. “There’s bound to be a lot of debris in this area.”
“Great!” Thomas said. “How longer do you think…?” He slipped and fell on his butt. He tried to grab the ground, but his hands found no purchase on the thick coat of ice.
He was basically on an ice slide and gaining speed very rapidly.
“What!” Ratatosk peered out through the jacket, then dove back in. Thomas felt the squirrel running down his chest, and then he saw the head and pointy ears peeking out from the other side, between his legs.
“Whoaaaah!” Ratatosk ducked and Thomas saw a piece of wood in front of him, a beam from a house that was flying through the storm, followed by glass, curtains, and other debris. He flattened his feet and arms as much as he could and missed the beam by a couple of inches.
“You can stop now!” Ratatosk yelled. “We are through!”
The wall of ice and snow opened to clear skies above, and they were finally in the eye of the storm and sliding down a street toward the waterfront.
“I said you can stop!” Ratatosk yelled again.
“You stop!” Thomas tried to dig his heels into the ice, but nothing worked. He just kept spinning and sliding down the slope.
Ratatosk and Thomas yell
ed loudly in unison.
At the bottom of the street, they went through a thin wall of ice that was covering a mound of snow and disappeared inside of it. Thomas choked on the snow as he tried to breathe, and he twisted around until his head was facing the ground. Ratatosk scurried inside his jacket, trying not to get crushed as Thomas twisted.
Thomas pushed up with his hands and broke through the ice with his back. He coughed up snow and water and took in long breaths of air.
Inside the eye of the storm everything was covered in glittering ice and he immediately sensed the Oracle’s Magic present.
“Can we do that again as we go out?” Ratatosk yelled as he popped up from the snow. “I haven't had this much fun in a hundred years!” Ratatosk smiled as he cleaned his fur of snow.
“Maybe later,” Thomas said, looking at the waterfront. “Look.”
There, standing in front of an ice-encrusted building, was his grandfather, surrounded by the Azure Guards.
Statements
“This one is Nardir,” Thomas said, pointing at the mountain lion faun, and then at his cheek. “He’s the one that gave me this scar.” The mountain lion had his arms crossed and was frozen in a snarl behind his grandfather’s back.
“He looks fierce,” Ratatosk whispered. “What about the other ones?”
“That one is a witch,” Thomas pointed at the girl, who was about to sit on a little retaining wall encrusted in ice by the waterfront. “The other two are warrior elves, but I don’t remember their names.”
“That one is Joran,” Ratatosk said, pointing at one of the elves. Unlike Ethipothala, were they had just worn leather, both of them were now dressed in the blue-and-black Azure Guard armor, and both had intricate green-and-blue tattoos on their faces and arms. Joran wore his hair in a ponytail and his armor had many red designs etched on its surface, like patches of honor. His eyes were clear blue, and he also had an earring that looked to be made of rock crystal.
“That’s right,” Thomas said, remembering his grandfather saying the name in Ethipothala. “Joran, how do you know him?”
Guardians Inc.:Thundersword (Guardians Incorporated #2) Page 29
